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  1. - Top - End - #931
    Titan in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    @Camus: Good thing nothing valuable was truly lost, right?

    I mean, yes. Kaylin might be here. Might. It’s a coin toss... and few wizards are known for being gamblers. Thresher is far more important- a tool will always outlive the man, reason why it takes priority- any warrior worth their salt will tell you that.

    For all the impressive display of druidic prowess, Daun was slightly less useful today combat wise than back at the Olidammaran temple. Men and women who dabble in the mystic arts of the Natural World are inevitably drawn to its more savage impetus, which reflects in her using extremely powerful transmutations when you have merely crossed the street.

    Can the gunner see the unseen? According to Kalir he can’t. According to Kalir the sleeping Beast was slow too and how did that turn out?

    Time for Daun to reduce her size significantly. You may be an Archmage, but even you have limits to how many you can take with you across Time & Space.

    Also, a piece of rubble from this place might help if you want to come back to this exact place at a later time. How is this piece of rubble different from any other? It isn’t, but best carry it around, just in case.

    And so, taking a good look at the dilapidated room, you have everyone hold hands as the room begins to shake and rumble before it unmakes itself and all of you appear at Oedon’s Tomb, facing the stairs down towards Old Halmathan.

    No sound of beasts... or sight of them.

    No stench filled skies sifting with charnel smoke.

    No Kaylin.

    No Thresher.

    There is a copious amount of blood though- mostly coming out of Ilven’s many wounds.

  2. - Top - End - #932
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    WhiteWizardGirl

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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Daun shakes her head as she returns to her natural form, and lets her many spells drop, not too much of a fan of being a weakling human again. She quietly sets to work healing Ilven's bullet hole with her latent magic again.

    "If the shooter is up high, how is he not affected by the smog of this place? And how can he see through it? Never mind. I still vote that we bring his tower down with T'Nauri's help, then deal with him on the ground. He's situated himself to play to his skills: a gun from long range. If we bring him close to us I doubt he'll have as much success. Then we can move through this place more or less uninhibited. What do you men think?"

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    Ilven is healed back up to half, assuming we have a couple of rounds without combat, which it sounds like is the case.
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  3. - Top - End - #933
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    Thumbs up Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    "I believe I have to meditate", the elf says to Daun and look at the others gathered there, "And you best make sure the gate is locked before you leave".

    Sighing, the archmage close his eyes and starting massaging his temples for a few moments.

    "Thanks for your help, despite our goal was never achieved. Regardless of the results of my divinations we'll return to pick up Thresher although my priority will be finding Kaylin if she can still be saved. But worry not, Kalir. I know how important a wespon is for a warrior, so if we fail to recover it I'll make sure you'll get a new weapon for your precious aid".

    Archmage Camus then turn his back to them and start walking away, "I'll reach you after I'm done thinking, so expect to hear from me in a day or two. Until there...", Do not fall to Bloodlust, "Stay safe".

    He then walk away towards the more busy streets and hail a cab for the Catedral District.

  4. - Top - End - #934
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Quote Originally Posted by El'the Ellie View Post
    "If the shooter is up high, how is he not affected by the smog of this place? And how can he see through it? Never mind. I still vote that we bring his tower down with T'Nauri's help, then deal with him on the ground. He's situated himself to play to his skills: a gun from long range. If we bring him close to us I doubt he'll have as much success. Then we can move through this place more or less uninhibited. What do you men think?"
    "Those that live there are probably immune to the smog. How did he see through the smog and not through my invisibility? Good question, but I doubt we'll draw him down to us where T'Nauri can help. We'll have to go up to him. Auran Masks can help with the smog, an hour at a time if someone could pick up a small stack of them. Once we get in his face we'll have answers. If he's not their leader I'm sure he's in league with their leader somehow having that much power on command."

    "Archmage, you've seen the place down there now. I hope your divinations will be clearer about whether Kaylin is there or elsewhere. Surviving on one's own in there seems... challenging."

    "I'll be at Glendale. Daun will be able to find me. The Temple and Barracks are not for me right now."


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  5. - Top - End - #935
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    BlueKnightGuy

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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Ilven makes absolutely certain that the gate is locked this time, turning the heavy iron key more forcefully than necessary and rattling the chains to make sure the gate is as secure as it ever was. Can’t have any beasts escaping to the City proper, especially now he’d had a taste of their claws. As for Kaylin, were she trapped on the other side... well, if she’d survived days in Old Halmathan, a locked gate wouldn’t stop her.


    “Thank you,” he replies to Daun as her magic keeps him alive for the... fourth time tonight. “While I do think that upstart with a firearm needs to be taught a lesson... there’s no point getting in a fight rigged in his favor, and we can’t get in any fight at all if we can’t find him. Perhaps the magically-inclined among us could scry on him, get a look at his position. If we know where he is, we can better judge which streets will get us shot to bits, and perhaps spot a way up, as flying seems to be a poor choice.”

    For the second time in more than a century, Ilven draws his ornamental rapier for purposes other than cleaning. This time, he offers it to Kalir. “Until we get Thresher. You never know what will go wrong between now and then. Probably don’t want to risk using that blasted axe in the City proper...” Not after what happened the last time that horrible weapon saw blood.

    Spoiler: An offer
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    Nothing special, just +1 rapier. Seems right for the guy with Gascoigne’s axe on his enemies list to offer.

  6. - Top - End - #936
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    @Daun: All this power wasted...

    The sun begins to set through the dead trees of Oedon's Tomb. Your excursion through Old Halmathan has gone longer than expected and yet, it bore no fruit, except loss.

    Flying in that place is dangerous. Even with your impressive sight, you can't pierce through the smoke. And despite these disadvantages, whoever lives there that isn't a beast, is taking you down with ease. However, if T'nauri were to come to this old town with you a third time...

    Few things can stand against T'nauri. He's a dinosaur, for crying out loud- who in their right mind would attack a dinosaur? Go in with T'nauri. Have him trample the whole place down with his sheer bulk. Sooner or later he will knock down the right tower...

    It's a solid genius plan. One only a druid like you could conceive. It's fool proof.


    @Ilven: The heavy chains on the gate rattle as you make sure it's locked up.

    Pretty sure you locked it up last time, but now all doubts ought to be dispelled. Nothing is coming in or out. Not without the key. Key in your possession.

    As for the mission? Failed.

    You went in there to find and rescue Camus' cousin. Instead, you nearly lost your life and Kalir lost his Royal Guard weapon, Thresher. Without it, the raptoran will have to resort to wielding Gascoigne's Hunter Axe, a weapon you'd rather not see again in use.

    Thankfully, you have an extra weapon. Not your best one, of course. But it did put down Daegal- your rapier.

    A weapon best suited for duels and light quick strikes. It doesn't match Thresher's sheer strength and lethality, but Kalir, having your training as well, ought to be able to handle this thin blade just as adeptly. It won't shock, burn or outright kill an opponent, but if used well, in the right hands, it can be a lethal blade.


    @Kalir: You're not leaving Thresher behind in that place.

    If you can somehow get T'nauri in, great. But then what? Old Halmathan is gigantic. He'll probably destroy a few houses and then get shot down and killed. That is if he isn't swarmed by beasts before that.

    The idea of a prehistoric siege engine is good. Make noise. Be loud and destructive. Who doesn't appreciate that? But what else could be very much appreciated?

    Auran Masks. Not cheap- definitely not cheap for you. But if each of you dons one, you might be able to not suffer the toxic effects of Old Halmathan and drop down unconscious. Of course, it's four of you and that's a hefty price to pay, but you can't just walk in there again and get clawed and shot...

    If Camus uses his tricks, you could pop in where you left. That will save you a painful trek. What lies beyond is unknown, but chances are Kaylin is either dead, extremely well hidden... or far more powerful than the archmage wants to give credit for. You are a one man army and had to flee, in the company of a Helguard, a mighty wizard and a druid.

    Camus says his cousin went in alone- how hard is it to reach a conclusion here as to her fate?

    This last thought is kept to yourself as you take to the dusk skies of Halmathan and fly over it, directly towards Glenndale and find your favorite tree to roost.

    The barracks won't bring any fond memories of what transpired today. Your peers will notice Thresher's absence and ask questions. Best avoid that.

    The Blooming Lotus, well... that place may not be welcoming to you ever again.


    @Camus: Enough time with these people.

    You need to have some alone time. Let the soldiers plan their tactics. You need a respite after running for your life in that damn accursed place.

    Walking out of Oedon's Tomb, you look back at the group and let them know that a day or two. That's all you'll need to prepare. IF they want a quick trip to that exact spot, they will learn not to be impatient. Illusions and Conjurations of this sort are not within a druid's grasp. They need you...

    ...and you need them.


    The street lamps are already being lit as you hail a carriage and head towards the Pelorian Church grounds. Your Divination on Kaylin will expire soon, given the traffic at this hour and time spent down there. No sign of your cousin. Not here amongst good people.

    No beast and bloodlust to be found in these streets. Always a good sign.

    The ride towards the Royal District takes over an hour and night time is already set upon you as the carriage stops in front of the massive gates to the Church of Pelor.

    One of the oldest churches in the City of Power, the Pelorian Church has a gigantic following. Pelor, god of the Sun and Good people naturally attracts a bunch of races, since he isn't known to discriminate. The acting Church leader is High Father Jace, the Exalted. Oldest Church Leader to date amongst the Grand Eight of Halmathan. It is said that his divine radiance can be seen here and there, flying atop the highest white spires that make the impressive citadel.

    Not tonight, though. Such is a sight you may have to catch some other day- and who knows when. Church Leaders aren't known for visiting Runestone and wizards aren't a pious bunch. For the most part.

    Bunch of men and women wearing white garb with the sun emblazoned on their backs, symbol of their deity and belief. Who knows the hierarchical order here, but one of them, wearing armor beneath and taller than the other neophytes approaches you and extends his hand with a form handshake.

    "Welcome to the House of the Shining One, master elf! Do you require aid? A wound that we might treat you to?""

  7. - Top - End - #937
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    The archmage walks alone until he find a cab, which he prompty hail and offer the driver only two words: "Catedral Ward" and a mean glare when the man tries to small talk.

    He wanted silence to put his thoughts in order. What to do next? Where to? Old Hamalthan proved to be a huge disaster. During the hour long travel, he decide he want to try once more to contact Kaylin. Maybe she was already dead and he was wasting everyone time and blood going in those adventurous journey, much like Lord Bardak's comments in the gala.

    The motion of the cab make it a little bit annoying, but the wizard was trained to focus his attention despise sudden motion and distractions, and so he writes a small note, using his spellbook for hard surface and then tell the driver to not interrupt him.

    He chant something and the piece of paper (now away from his spellbook) burn as several letters made of smoke float in the air before Camus blow them away through the open windows.

    Spoiler: Sending to Kaylin
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    The Sending is on Elven language.

    "Are you stil alive? I'm looking for and will find you. Please, stay safe until there. Do you know where you are?"


    Once the man drops his by the Church of Pelor, he pay the man for the service and walk into the pelorite catedral. He never specified where on Catedral Ward he wanted to go, but the cab driver was more than wise to avoid pestering him with questions. Taking a good look around, he's surprised there are still people around, since the sun was slowly dissapearing in the western sky. Not so impressive at night.

    When the cleric come to speak with him, he look at the man's hand and give him a slight bow.
    "Good night, gentleman. I'm looking for divine help, but not healing per se, but divination magic. Is there any oracle here that you can guide me to? I'm looking for a someone capable of Communing or maybe Discern Location".
    Ruven Feathers, tengu opportunist with a keen eye for gold and an accute scent for death.

  8. - Top - End - #938
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    WhiteWizardGirl

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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Daun double checks that the gate is indeed locked, then prepares to leave when she hears Kalir's plans.

    "Kalir, if you're headed to Glenndale why don't you stay with me tonight? I can patch us up in the morning. And I can't help but feel like there's strength in numbers nowadays."

    Daun shifts once more into her avian form and flies over to the city park with or without the Royal Guard, her mind churning though the troubling events of the day.
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  9. - Top - End - #939
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Kalir pauses at the elf's offer of a weapon. "I'm honored Sir Ilven. Thank you, but you need to keep a melee weapon of your own too." The raptoran flexes his wrist outward, bringing attention to the gauntlet on it with a finely crafted blade attached. "Even without Thresher and the axe I'm still far from helpless."

    Daun's offer is accepted with a nod. "It's still early in the evening. Plenty of time for the three of us to grab a meal then see Sir Ilven off to his place. A walk then a flight sounds refreshing. What say you two?"
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  10. - Top - End - #940
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    BlueKnightGuy

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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Ilven sheaths the rapier and and then turns his ring, armor and weapons vanishing to leave just a battered old elf.”Suit yourself.” But to be fair, Kalir’s gauntlet looked far more useful to the raptoran than the gilded rapier.

    He smiles at the suggestion of walking him home and rakes a hand through his beard. Did they still really think he couldn’t take care of himself, after he’d unquestionably saved their lives when flight failed? Sure he’d also nearly died to the sniper a few times, but a weapon like that was practically cheating.

    “Dinner sounds excellent, and I think I know just the place if we’re passing my way.” Should the others concur, Ilven will lead them to a cafe or pub near his home.

  11. - Top - End - #941
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    @Camus: Whatever the coachman has to say, you aren't having it.

    The man is paid by the City to drive people, not make stupid idle conversation. Normally, any other would want to pass time chatting away while stuck in traffic, but not you.

    Not after the events of today.

    It's a stern glance from the back seat that causes the coachman to focus on the road and not on starting cheap talk while you look out the window and still wish to catch a glimpse of Kaylin strolling down the streets... with no such luck.

    Even with a few bumps in the road, you focus and take out a piece of parchment, scribbling words meant only for its recipient, in a language both share since birth and blow the embers away out the window, awaiting another response...

    However, like before, there is no one on the other side to answer. There is, however, a feeling of dread that invades your entire body. What it is? Who can tell. But it actually freezes you throughout the ride to the Pelorian Cathedral and vanishes as your hands and legs shake and the coachman has to help you get off the carriage before riding away, eager to pick up a chattier fare.

    Once at the temple grounds, with its immense spires and cherry orchards lining the white pavement illuminated by the lam posts, you greet the man in white robes and a armor beneath.

    It's no secret that each Church in Halmathan, being as old as they are, have their own defenses. War has not broken here since, well... ever. Definitely not when you arrived from Celene, but a City doesn't grow over night. Not one like this. As such, many churches have trained their own to become Holy Warriors dedicated to upholding the tenets of their faith.

    Calling them "paladins" would be a long stretch. Yes, paladins indeed serve many churches here. Especially the one dedicated to Heironeous, but a Holy Warrior could be a priest who has dedicated himself to the blend of the Divine and the Blade. They are not to be underestimated and who knows how many this church alone has for the day- one would pray that it never comes- when Halmathan were at war and these men and women marched out into the streets.

    You have seen what Kalir and Ilven can do, and they are only two. Whatever hierarchy these churches have regarding titles and power, they do not share with non believers. Many would see that as shady secrecy, but then again...

    Doesn't Runestone do the same?

    The man realizes he's not going to shake your hand and returns the bow, walking beside you towards one of the many chapels in this self contained holy City to Pelor.

    "I figured curative aid would not be your request, but I had to ask anyways. The Healing Church provides that service for free and as such, we faithful to Pelor, known for his curative blessings the world over have found other ways to assist the downtrodden.

    You seek an Oracle? The ability to Divine is an art some of my brothers and sisters have attained through intense meditation. Currently, those in the higher echelons who can provide the service your request for Discern Location are already in their private chambers, but we have others here that can Commune for you.""

    The man stops in front of a small white church and places his gauntleted hand on the doorknob and then looks at you from the corner of his eye.

    "Unlike the Healing Church, I am afraid, The Church of Pelor will have to ask for a donation. Communing takes its toll on the caster, you are aware of this, I hope? There is also the materials required- holy water. We have it, but it is factored into the spell you want and is thusly added to the... donation. I am sure you understand this."

    The man opens the door and you find yourself in a dimly lit chapel with the sun disk of Pelor on an altar at the far end. There are no parishioners here at this hour and only a short white robed woman, advanced in years, who can barely see due to the cataracts on her eyes as the man walks up to her and whispers in her ear as he lights up the incense .

    The woman, seated on a simple wooden chair and holding a simple walking stick, taps the floor around her and shakily points at you as the taller man that escorted you here walks back to you with a small piece of parchment.

    "This is what it will cost you for the spell you requested. We will not take offense should you deny it. If you do accept, you may ask her nine questions.""

    Spoiler: Costly Commune
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    975 gold




    @Kalir: A rapier... no.

    A finesse weapon used for those who like to move around the field of battle, quick of feet. Your training requires you to get on your opponent's face and bash him down into a bloody pulp. Excessive use of force, that is how you do battle.

    Even without Thresher, you have a few weapons on your arsenal. None as powerful as your mace, but a lot more efficient. Besides, the day may come when Ilven loses his bow too. The Helguard may be highly skilled, but at a quick glance, hand to hand combat isn't his forte.

    And to relieve some stress from this catastrophic day, you suggest walking Ilven home and grabbing a bite before you and Daun take off to the skies and head to Glenndale Park. Camus may not be with you, but he will likely get back...in a few days, according to him.

    The walk is long. Oedon's tomb isn't exactly close to the busier parts of town, but there is no real hurry as the lamps guide you towards Sir Ilven's Crusade District, a place were many retired soldiers have made it their home.

    Not far from it, Manny's.

    Halmathan, the affluent City that it is, has a huge number of pubs, restaurants and cafes. Manny's has been around for over fifty years, family owned and although the place isn't remarkable by any means, the food is good- there is no menu, which means you get what they have for the day. It's not pricey and they always give high ranking soldiers a generous discount.

    The night wind blows with a cold chill as the three of you walk inside and a dwarf with a stained overall greets all three, looking at Ilven.

    "The Arrow of God...and Halmathan's Winged Watcher...and a lovely lady! Table for three? Tonight we're having roasted spit boar sandwiches with the house special sauce and a side of tots, washed down with a tall pint...

    Three silver for all of you. Because of such fine company and protectors to this City. If you get thirstier, it's an extra copper a pint... plus tip. Heh! Do you want a table? I have one over by the bar."

  12. - Top - End - #942
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    Archmage Camus let the holy warrior guide him through the holy site (almost a city by itself) and listen about this donation. He never understood why they didnt call it by the name of holy services or something along those lines, since a donation would mean gving without expecting anything in return. But who was he to argue? He needed a diviner, and if possible one not linked to Runestone at all.

    It is upon getting sight of their oracle that Camus ponder why he didnt walked to the Tower of Commerce instead: Pelor being a deity of healing and her oracle probably blind. The muquolites (or muquolian?) would see it as a service and maybe give less attention to the questions asked than a pelorite. He consider leaving to the Tower of Commerce instead, but give up.

    "Good night, oracle. And yes, I'm aware of the donation system. Tell me, what is the church policy on the questions asked? I mean, privacy and secrecy? Some of what I plan on asking are personal matters I would prefer not commented around", he says and show the holy man a bag full of platinum coins, "This should cover the costs. I will need a few moments to write down the questions, but I'd rather know about the privacy of the conten I ask".
    Ruven Feathers, tengu opportunist with a keen eye for gold and an accute scent for death.

  13. - Top - End - #943
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    @Camus: With so many churches in town, there ought to be a myriad of diviners.

    Runestone has mages that specialize in that school specifically, but here you are. At the Pelorian church. Could you have gone to any of the other seven churches? Yes, but perhaps one dedicated to the Sun may shed some much needed light into what you're after.

    The term "donation" should be apt- you are giving money to the church for a good cause- in this case, gaining knowledge. Knowledge isn't free. As a wizard, this is something you should know very well by now, given the book you carry and everything needed to produce the vast miracles of arcane power none other is able to manifest through sheer study and diligence over the years.

    The old priestess remains silent while the man addresses your concerns.

    "It is a private affair, but not always. In the end, those who will ultimately know the answers to your questions are her, you and God. Communing is not done publicly and we understand if many who seek knowledge in this manner don't want it disclosed.

    I suppose you also understand that knowledge you seek that may harm good people may not remain private. Pelor does not condone using his sight and infinite wisdom to bring harm onto the innocent. With that being said...""


    The man takes the money and whispers something to the oracle as she hands him a scroll and quill dipped in ink, who then gives the scroll and quill to you as he walks towards the door of the chapel.

    "Write your questions for our priestess and hand her the scroll. I will wait outside and come back once it is over."
    Last edited by AlanBruce; 2019-04-26 at 04:40 PM.

  14. - Top - End - #944
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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Camus listen to the holy warrior's word and nod, "That's fair enough. Thanks".

    He then wait the man to leave the room and take the scroll and quill and start writing a few questions for questions that are bothering hom for a while. At the last few questions he stop and think for a few minutes before writing them down and handling the oracle the questions to be divined upon.

    "These are the questions that are bothering me and that I wish that Pelor or one of his associates can shed some light into. If you dont mind, I would like the questions burned after the spell is done with".

    Spoiler: Questions
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    Those are secret
    Ruven Feathers, tengu opportunist with a keen eye for gold and an accute scent for death.

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    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    @Camus: The door shuts behind you and it's you and the old priestess now.

    Money has been given. Time to seek further knowledge. Maybe where the arcane failed, the Divine shall succeed. And so, you take your time thinking up nine vital questions for this old blind crone to ask her god and write them down as clearly as possible on the parchment as her shaky wrinkled hand reaches out to it and snatches the paper.

    With a wave, she wordlessly instructs you to take a seat on the pews of the chapel and pours the holy water on a small bin in front of her as the burnt incense wafts through the room and she lowers her head, mumbling in a tongue you have never heard before.

    Old as she may be, the priestess immediately picks up the quill and parchment you handed to her and as her blank eyes look up at the ceiling, she begins to mumble in ancient tongues and writing like a maniac, at times ripping the scroll at its edges. It is said that for a brief time, the powers of the Great Beyond take over the Diviner and it is not she who is in the room with you, but who knows how this works between different casters.

    The scent of incense washes away after ten minutes, at which point the old priestess grunts in pain and drops the quill, which spins on the ground and produces a small bell, which she faintly rings as the man comes into the room again and walks towards her.

    She's exhausted. Divinations of this nature can be quite taxing on the body and mind. On someone as old as she, it may have been a death warrant, but the younger man, picks up the piece of paper without even reading it and hands it to you.

    "This will be her last work for the day. I hope you find enlightenment in whatever is written there. Now unless you have any other business, I will have to escort you out of the chapel. You may stay at the Pelorian Church an attend mass in one of the many churches we have here, if you so wish."

    Whether you accept his invitation or not, you unfurl the piece of paper and read what only your eyes are meant to see.

    Spoiler: Communal Answers
    Show
    1) ...Yes

    2) ...No

    3) Yes

    4) ...Unclear

    5) No

    6) ...Unclear

    7) Yes

    8) Yes

    9) ... Yes.


  16. - Top - End - #946
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    With a quick look at the paper, the archmage give the old woman a bow.

    "This helped very much. Thank you", he then let the holy warrior escort him out and wait until he's out of the pelorite grounds to take flight, flying up until he's far above City of Power. With only the clouds as his witness, he read the answers once again and again, until it is written in his memory.

    He then proceed to burn both the questions and the answers with a small feat of arcane fire.

    The answers were interesting as well as disturbing. Sure, some might been unclear and even powerful divinations can fail sometimes, but the answers gave him some confort and clues on how to proceed. Lacking a destination, he drifts in the air for some time before towards Runestone.

    Reaching the reknown Academy, Camus land in front of their statue guardians, ordering them to open the gates for him and leaving toward his quarters, where Thing is more than quick to jump out of his pocket and onto the bed. Taking his robes off, he order his magic quill to scribe for the night and take a long shower before heading to bed and falling into trance.
    Ruven Feathers, tengu opportunist with a keen eye for gold and an accute scent for death.

  17. - Top - End - #947
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    BlueKnightGuy

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    Ilven's spirits lift as soon as he steps through the door. A good meal, that's clearly what was needed to make up for an utter failure of a day. But still, nobody had died this time, that was far better than... honestly the majority of missions he'd been on, to the best of his recollection.

    "A table will do...and a round of drinks to start us off." He returns the waiter's smile, and gives a quick glance to his companions, trying to calculate how much drinking they were likely to do. They were young, and people did talk about how any human could drink an elf under the table. Kalir hardly seemed like a lightweight either...probably better to err on the safe side, especially given the trying nature of the past few days. Ilven counts out five silver and passes them to the waiter. "That should cover it."

    Once stable seating has been secured, he turns to Daun, a terrible thought occurring to him. "You do eat meat, correct? I've heard some rumors about you Glenndale folk."

  18. - Top - End - #948
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    Daun is actually a bit surprised, though not bothered, that she isn't recognized. The change was nice: a freedom from expectation that life outside Glenndale rarely brought. She gives the dwarf a smile and sits next to Ilven. It's not the first time she's been asked Ilven's question, and it probably won't be the last. She leans her chair back on two legs with her foot on the table's leg, and responds.

    "I've heard the rumors as well. People like to assume things about us without actually asking..." She waves away any inkling of being offended at the question. "No, I eat meat as much as the next citizen. Some druids don't, and I can understand that, but... it's complicated. Predators have just as much a claim to life as the prey. You could argue that since humans - and elves and raptorans - can get by without meat, they should. Lots of druids do, particularly new ones: because to hunt is to snuff out life, right? No... that's too much oversimplifying. Besides, that view tends to smack of virtue signaling.

    But we probably didn't come here to have me rant about this sort of thing."


    Daun rolls her staff in her hands more self consciously than normal for her. It's clear she usually has to skirt around this sort of talk with most people when she goes out, but was comfortable enough around the two warriors to let herself get wrapped up in it.
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  19. - Top - End - #949
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    "And I suppose you do favor predators in your..."
    Ilven gestures vaguely, as if releasing a fluttering bird. Is there even a polite term for 'becoming a feral creature and mauling your enemies'? "I shouldn't be surprised that the great bear eats meat."
    But as for the philosophy... that's less simple.

    "You could also argue that there's a difference between people and animals. Well, more than the obvious. I'd assumed you may avoid meat because it could be cannibalism, in a way. I wouldn't eat a gnome or an orc any more than I'd eat an elf. Those who become animals... might not want to eat them."

    He tilts his head to one side. "When you transform, how much of you becomes a beast, anyhow? You speak, fling spells... but do you think in the same way as you do now?"

  20. - Top - End - #950
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    Kalir gives a gracious smile and nod to the dwarf. "Thank you very much. I look forward to the boar." The raptoran lickes his lips. He's equally ingratiated for Sir Ilven beating him to the punch with the silver coins.

    "Daun embraces nature more than I ever will comprehend, but to me eating the meat of animals and avoiding being eaten is part of nature. Hunting is a way of life for raptorans out in the wilderness. Duthila, our goddess of the hunt and abundance, guides us in our hunts so it can't be that off track." Kalir pauses while briefing rolling his lips inward in thought. "Not being eaten is something we need to work on more. We've been meeting our match lately with close calls. I'm glad we're all on this side of life still."

    "Seems we'll be headed back to the soot. Now we need Kaylin and my weapon. Hard to believe that creature got away so cleanly. We should have a basic plan for dealing with that creature and whoever that shooter is before facing them again. For the creature we'll have to cut off its escape routes and be ready to all strike hard together. Perhaps an illusion from the archmage to waste its attacks. For the shooter, if it can't see me invisible I may have to go hunt it myself. See how fearsome it is without the contraption. Illusions for targets can help locate it and waste its time. A pity we can't get them to talk."
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  21. - Top - End - #951
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    Daun shrugs as they talk about wild shaping. "Let's avoid the term beast for now. Normally I wouldn't mind, but with all that's happened recently, I feel like 'beast' has a different definition.

    "But to answer your question: yes... and no. It's hard to describe to someone not in the frame of mind to shift. I suppose I do think and act differently, but that change brings forward a deeper part of my own mind. It's like calling back a mindset from when you were younger. Except farther back than when you were born. Like you lived a hundred lives, and your bringing to mind a specific one."


    She pauses and puts her chair back down on all four legs, pursing her lips in thought. "I can be hard to tell someone about it without getting philosophical. As for casting spells and talking... tapping into magic at the same time is another trick that takes some practice. A lot of druids learn it, but it's more difficult. Like riding a unicycle after learning how to ride a bike. Speaking at the same time, that's just a modern addition: a pearl of speech. Without magic, most animals can't make the same sounds, and that's just biology."

    She listens to Kalir as he muses about the events of the day, and nods along in approval of his own perspective on diets.

    "I agree we need to get you Thresher back before it's gone for too long, but I think we should hunt down that shooter. We can't really search with him taking pot shots at us. Extremely accurate pot shots, at that. He has to be high up somewhere: I still think out best bet is to bring down whatever building he's on and fight him on the ground." She looks at him with a note of uncharacteristic concern. "Even if he can't see the invisible, I don't like the idea of you fighting him without me... and Ilven and Camus."
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  22. - Top - End - #952
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    A corner of Ilven’s mouth twists as Daun calls him out for his slipup in beastly terminology. ”You’re right.” He says a bit sharply. “‘Beast’ should be reserved to the poor souls who deserve it.”

    "Bringing down the tower carries its own set of problems. How do you propose we do that while staying free of falling stones? Besides, I don't think we should actually want to kill the shooter if we can avoid it. He's a brash idiot who would rather solve problems with an overblown, impractical, unreliable cannon-" Ilven cuts off his not at all biased rant on the subject of firearms and sips his ale. "But I admit he's good at what he does. Without him, who will keep Hunters from the Old City? Or keep the residents contained? I, for one, will not be replacing him."

    He turns to Kalir. "Illusions are a much better idea, but I agree with Daun; trying to take him on alone is not worthwhile. For all we know, his nest could be packed full of his allies."

    "Also, keep in mind that we did try this little... escapade during the day. If we were to go again, perhaps on a dark night, he may not have quite the view he used to. He can see through the fog, but night may be a different- and if we are unsure about that, what about magical darkness as well? I'd feel much better about our chances if he were firing blind."
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  23. - Top - End - #953
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    @Kalir: As tasty as the food looks on the table, as well as the tall cold pints...

    You don't really need it. Years of wearing your ring has cheated your mind into making your body believe that food and sleep are for the weak. There are people who use these rings, of course. Their use is mocked not only at Runestone, but in general:

    After all, what benefit is there to be gained from not sleeping and eating? Both mortal pleasures and the few that can be enjoyed by both King and Pauper in equal measure. And so, it comes as little surprise when the scent of boar reaches your nostrils and rather than hunger, you can't help but feel a tad queasy and barely nauseous. Taking the ring off is a possibility, naturally. But then, do you really want to eat and sleep like anyone else? Ludicrous!

    Of course, back in the day. Before joining the Royal Guard. Before Halmathan...

    Hunting in the tall peaks back home was a must. The tribe needed food. Winters up in the mountains are unforgiving. A group of able gatherers were sent year round to take down game, selecting the best time of the year to do so before they would hibernate. Copious amounts of salt were employed by the matrons, who guarded the food reserves. Rest was a must- can't go on a hunt with your eyes barely open.

    But that was then, up in the mountains. No magic shops to enhance your skills and sever others. Here in the City of Power, if you want something- and you have the coin- you will find the oddball walking around 24/7, jacked to no end and refusing a single morsel.

    It's just the natural part of being unnatural, as they say.

    And speaking of unnatural...

    Those Beasts back in Old Halmathan. They gave you and the rest a run for your money. In your case, they left you with very little money. All your wages throughout the years spent on a mighty weapon... now in the hands of some cloaked beast deep in the forgotten and locked district.

    But the solution is simple- gang up on it. It will definitely be waiting for you at the same spot. It has to. Have the wizard do his wizarding, confuse the Beast, beat the snot out of it and pick up Thresher, who is most likely missing you.

    As for the gunner... he can't see you while your other ring is active. While the others keep his sights busy, you could sniff him out. Fly low, maybe catch a glimpse of him from wherever he;'s shooting you from and engage him one on one.

    After all: how tough can he be if he has to resort to shooting you from afar? Up close and bereft of his toy, he's probably a weakling whose neck you can snap like a twig. Yeah...

    That sounds about right.


    @Ilven: Looks like you're paying tonight.

    Given the amount of blood and fire and hailstorm of lead, it is somewhat comforting to be seated close to home, in a place where everyone knows your name. The food here may not be kingly, but it's good and it's cheap.

    Of course, an elf downing a whole pint of beer to wash down boar may seem more of a "dwarf thing", but when you're over three centuries old, who's really going to question your eating habits? You got this far in the Helguard and you're alive to tell the tale... if you could remember any, that is.

    And then there's Daun. About your height, despite being a human. But not too long ago, she doubled her mass and took on the appearance of a fearsome beast. She may not like that term- Beast. But really:

    A ten foot tall prehistoric bear wreathed in flames... can you think of any more apt description? Camus might smugly raise his finger and say:


    It's a dire animal. Found in appendix IV of the Monster Man...


    And nobody would even listen to the rest of his sentence because they'd be running away in panic at the sight of a beast. But past the shock, there is no small amount of wonder to what Daun can do.

    Transforming willingly into an animal- predator or not, is no small feat. Even in a City filled with all manner of casters, druids stand out as the ultimate shapeshifters. But then one has to wonder how much of Daun is in the animal- does she take a back seat and allow the beast to take on the wheel?


    @Daun: Druidic talk... your forte.

    Despite the large druidic community in Halmathan, not everyone can assume the forms you can. It takes years and years of training and communing with Nature to invite the spirit animal into your mind and soul and tame it. Many young druids eagerly train to become animals later on.

    Not known by many, some can actually get lost when tapping into their primal instincts. This isn't found in any tome or guidebook, but rare as it is... it has happened.

    Why does it happen? Who knows. It is said that being in somebody's shoes for too long eventually causes you to adopt their persona. Again, these are rare instances and not even you, a mighty druidess of Glenndale has seen these cases during your lifetime. And chances are you never will. Ever since you walked to Glenndale and met Eari, you have never felt such wild rush when transforming. Not unwillingly, at least.

    As for eating an animal? A matter of choice.

    It should come as no surprise that a large amount of druids in Glenndale are adverse to eating meat- or any living creature. Years taking on the forms of so many animals have given them a sort of insight into the creature's psyche, if you will. As such, these champions of Nature feel silent disgust towards peers who do enjoy the taste of cooked or uncooked flesh and warm blood dripping down their chin.

    In fact, this is far more prevalent within the higher echelons of Druidic Society.

    Lady Silvarel, the most powerful druid in Halmathan and one of the Grand Eight and High Priestess of Ehlonna is said to have never once eaten a live creature. She does not denounce others who do, but as a grugach herself, she is said to sustain her elven body with colorful salads made from flowers, nuts, mushrooms and wild berries. That is of course, on the rare instances when she has been seen- The Lady of the Resting Meadows is everywhere and nowhere around Glenndale. Her presence always masked as a tree, wind or some innocuous animal.

    Many who heard this story would arrive to the conclusion that Lady Silvarel is a "light weight". Add to the fact she's an elf- weak by default and some of vile mind may consider taking her on...

    That would be a mistake.

    There is a reason why she is one of Halmathan's Grand Eight. When it comes to the mysteries of Nature, Lady Silvarel is peerless. In over a hundred years, none have seen her demonstrate her power, like a few other Church leaders do...and everyone is quite thankful for that.

    As for the matter of Old Halmathan... bring those towers down. Each and everyone of them.

    With T'nauri at your side, none of those creatures will dare come close and although Kalir wishes to hunt this mysterious sharpshooter alone, it would be unwise.

    You haven't seen him. Only heard his voice and felt his bullets pierce your body at high speed. There is zero knowledge of what kind of enemy this is and if the Raptoran actually finds him, can he take him on one on one?

    These are ideas thrown at the table while the meal is finished. Whether you decide to go back in there again tonight or head home, that is up to you. But you know that were you to return to Old Halmathan, you will need Camus, who has left all of you tonight and who knows for how many more.


    @Camus: Such a small spark up high in the clouds above Halmathan cannot be seen by anyone.

    The ashes are carried away by the cold night winds, but the answers are etched in your mind. Are they good answers? They are answers. You had none before, now you do. How helpful they are to your questions depends on how you act upon them.

    Divination is a tricky school, regardless of its origin- arcane or divine. A lot is left to interpretation and many variables must be brought into account.

    What today seems possible according to what you were told, may not be the case a week from now. Variables, the one true constant in the world.

    This and many other ideas storm in your head as you fly towards Runestone and stand before the gates, who immediately recognize you and open for you.

    Thing is more than happy to be out of your pocket and back onto your bed. It's late, but not that late that you cannot hear the students outside on campus. They have no idea what you went through...and would they believe you if you told them?

    Success on this mission depends now on your willingness to get them back. Even if Kalir and Daun can fly, they won't make it out in time. Not given the environment in that place. Ilven may be an accomplished archer, but arrows mean nothing when faced against fast burning lead.

    Your familiar coils itself by the pillow and gives you a stare as you look up at Amarille's portrait and light a single candle for the room before taking off the ruined cloak and changing into your PJs.

    There is a lot to reminisce tonight, as you fall into your elven trance, but one thing is clear:

    You need to find her.

  24. - Top - End - #954
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    DAY 13

    Be it trancing and meditating upon answers from the Outer Planes or after a good night sleep after a tavern night drinking and talking about druidic secrets and philosophies, eventually everyone wake up on a new day.


    For Camus, this new day come with a few tasks left for the day. They went to Old Hamalthan unprepared and it had cost them Thresher and time, in Kaylin's case). She was still alive and not beyond saving, if the answers were true. Sure, there was always the possibility that as the days go on, the answers change. If she can be saved yesterday, tomorrow she may not. Same goes for his other questions, except maybe the last one. The most disturbing one.

    Stealing a glance to Amarille's portrait, he sigh and excuse himself.
    I'm sorry love. But there are things I need to do and people I need to help.

    He put the kettle to boil some water for his morning breakfast and while waiting he write a small letter, which he later burn and watch the smoke fly away.

    Spoiler: Sending to Daun
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    Gather the others and meet me in my tower. Master the winds and leave the dinosaur home. We're returning today to Old Hamalthan.


    After the lenghty casting, Camus started eating some fruits and drinking his favorite tea while reading his spellbook and preparing for the day to come. Once he's done reading and eating, he check his pocketwatch and take the time for a cold shower.

    Now in rather simple robes (comparing the ones he usually wear - no point ruining yet another magnific robe), he make a quick walk to Master Sinio's Bazaar and ask for two divination scrolls, which he pay for before retunring to his chambers and waiting for the others to show up. He impatiently check his pocketwatch every few minutes, all the while preparing more tea (this time, not his favorite, in the case they come in and accept tea).

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    Two scrolls of Locate Object.
    Last edited by Chimaera; 2019-05-06 at 05:45 PM.
    Ruven Feathers, tengu opportunist with a keen eye for gold and an accute scent for death.

  25. - Top - End - #955
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    The ring on Kalir's right hand kept him nourished but he still enjoyed having some food occasionally. It would also be wrong to turn down such hospitality and respect freely given. His body and the magic in the ring would adjust.

    "Yes, taking down a building even with Thresher would have its issues. Better to find the building he's in and find a way to approach out of sight, even it is up the stairs within that building. Traveling there at night may give him more the advantage since we'll be in the lit street level while he's up out of the light. Either way we should be prepared to deal with the air there. I suggest picking up some Auran Masks before heading back. Some potions might be useful too- flight, invisibility, so on."

    "Daun, did you ever hear back from the Castafernis after our excursion on their request? Or was the letter from Roland meant to be from them too?"

    "All three of us have seen much better days. I suggest we go find a healer before retiring for the night."


    After a light meal, a single drink, and chatting with the others Kalir will, hopefully with the others, seek out a healer for their skills. Healed, he'll join Daun at Glendale as offered.

    At Glendale, Kalir sets up his bedroll in the suggested spot and is happy for any chat with Daun. In the morning he'll find a small clearing to himself and practices his weapon forms, this time with the Hunter's Axe. He calls upon the Diamond Mind discipline to keep his mind focused. After weapons practice Kalir let's Daun know of his plans. He heads to the market where he sells the masterwork dagger from The Barber (151gp) and use it to buy two Auran Masks (120gp). If nothing else comes up, he flies back to Glendale.
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  26. - Top - End - #956
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    Evening 12

    Perhaps a pint of ale was dwarven... but that was a particular argument Ilven had long since given up having. Yes, he had a beard and enjoyed heartier fare than the average elf. Anyone who had a problem with that could drown the thought in their own pint. Determined to get his money's worth, Ilven has precisely one drink too many.


    "A healer? Right. You know I think I met the Highfather once..."
    Maybe an exaggeration of the mysterious benefactor, maybe not. He hardly cared that he hurt at all, and he'd been clawed, scraped, and shot with what was apparently an entire cannon. That must be the reason dwarves drank so heavily. And with the healing church's intervention, he would not have to deal with the aftereffects in the morning. Probably. He accompanies at least Kalir to a healer before calling it a night.

    The streets feel empty after leaving Manny's, and his home emptier still. Ilven absentmindedly leafs through the mail, trying to focus on the minutiae of correspondence before tossing the stack to the side of the table with a huff. Inconsequential. After spending the majority of the day putting his life on the line in the city of ash, most things seemed inconsequential.

    Day 13

    Ilven is up with the first stirrings of the morning crowds. First order of business was to secure the ability to fly- at least for a short time. Fat lot of good the ability to take to the skies had done the others in Old Halmathan, but he did not want to be left behind in a more favorable situation. Only one, however- over three hundred years with his feet firmly on the ground and that was not likely to change for long. A few elixirs of invisibility... And some to keep that blasted poison away. That should be enough. It'd better be.


    Spoiler: Shopping
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    To purchase, if possible:
    potion of fly (750gp)
    two potions of invisibility (600gp total)
    two of delay poison (600gp total)
    auran mask (60gp)

    Question regarding Delay Poison: it is a cleric/druid/bard/paladin 2, ranger 1 spell. Typically potions are of the lowest level possible, however it is priced obeying the formula for it being a second level spell, therefore CL3? I ask because it affects the duration.
    complete total, 2010gp, to be deducted if purchase is approved.

  27. - Top - End - #957
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    @Kalir: Whether the Castafernis have more rewards for you in store and Daun knows about is, she isn't telling.

    What you do know is that you need some rest. And healing. Daun can provide it, but not enough to patch your entire body. Not after the brutal assault in Old Halmathan. When it comes to treating wounds, providing wellness for the body...

    The Healing Church and its gracious Ministers are always willing to lend a hand, free of charge. As is their sacred duty. They will not, however, provide Healing Ministration at a pub. They view this as a most sacred and private practice. Cathedral Ward is too far away right now and it is after sundown. But Ilven's home, if the Helguard is willing, can be used to treat your wounds, since it is an affair best done behind closed doors.

    And if the Arrow of God agrees, you are welcome to his house and take a seat as the Healing Minister asks you to roll up your sleeve or get rid of any bracer on your left arm as he taps it lightly, exposing the vein before the needle goes in and his attendant, a lowly Healing Church nun, takes the time on an old pocket watch while the reviving nectar contained in the plastic bags concealed within their black cases work their wonder and the needle is retrieved from your arm, followed by a wet padding from a clean cloth by the nun and you are as good as ever.

    It's almost as if the fight in Old Halmathan never happened... except it did, since Thresher isn't with you.

    The Healing Minister accepts no payment and will apply the same treatment to any present who requests it- it is in their dogma to provide assistance to everyone for free, after all. Once finished, he and the nun bow courteously to all present and walk alone into the dark streets of Halmathan, always seeking others in need of much wanted aid.

    And then it's time to bid Ilven good bye, as both you and Daun fly to Glenndale and while the druid may have her sacred grove and T'nauri to keep her safe, you find a tree and roost amidst its cold branches, envelop yourself in your black wings and await the light of a new and promising day.

    The next morning isn't bright and sunshine.

    Overcast and with the threat of rain, scant rays of light break through the thick clouds above as you stretch your limbs and land on the cold dew filled grass of Glenndale, ready to train for the upcoming day as you take out the Hunter's Axe.

    It doesn't take long for several druids, cloaked under the very foliage that makes their home that step up and shake their heads at your actions. You were told before not to practice with an axe at Glenndale. It was true then, and it is true now.

    This should not be confused with Pacifism, of course. You have fought alongside Daun and you have witnessed her diplomatic approach to a fight, but be they war mongers or tree huggers, druids dislike the idea of an axe being swung in their sanctuary, even if it's only to practice.

    This doesn't mean there aren't places for you to swing Gascoigne's bloody legacy around. The royal barracks have ample place to do so- provided the others give you a wide berth if you decide to transform the axe into a halberd.

    If you do not wish to raise further questions from your peers there, Ilven has a rooftop where he practices with his bow. And barring that, you can simply fly anywhere else, land on a high perch and swing away at the cold morning air.

    Just don't do it at Glenndale and no druids will be coming at you with hopefully only a verbal warning.

    Regardless of your destination, you train. Because it is what you must do. Your body is a weapon and you cannot allow it to rust. Not only your body, but your mind as well. Granted, were Thresher in hand, you'd be a lot more confident. But he's not here. That isn't to say you aren't going back to Old Halmathan- Daun and Ilven seem dead set on a return trip.

    And once you are satisfied with your training routine, it's time to shop.

    You may not be swimming in gold and platinum, but you don't need to. Barber left you a souvenir and may as well cash in on it. Downtown Halmathan has a bevy of shops and forges. Finding a buyer for the dagger isn't hard.

    The issue is with the Auran Masks.

    There are over a million people living in Halmathan. Experts state that such a number grows exponentially every year, since the gates and ports are open for trade and they always welcome immigrants, such as yourself, who make of the City of Power their home.

    But to assume that every single man, woman and child in the city has a blade or the need to acquire specific items to breathe noxious gases and have stores display them gracefully on their windows is frankly ludicrous. Many who live here don't have need for weapons. Why would they? Halmathan has the City Guard to protect them. There is also the Royal Guard, of which you are part.

    And were those two groups to fail, the eight churches are known for having abled men and women of the cloth who are quite competent in the martial arts, on top of the gifts granted through Divine means.

    Runestone hasn't even been factored in this argument, but at this point, do we need to? You know where to go and find them as your wings carry you over the City of Power and land at its base:


    The imposing Tower of Commerce, also known as the Temple of Moquol, God of Merchants, Trade and Negotiation. Amongst the eight churches in Halmathan, Moquol is considered to be one of the most if not the richest church of them all. In a City were everyone engages in civilized commerce, like that boar and pints at Manny's or your recently sold dagger, a faith centered around Commerce is going thrive...

    And it's going to thrive a lot. You are not a politician, or high ranking member of any church, but it is well known that these guys oversee EVERY aspect of commerce and wealth in the City of Power. No transaction, no matter how small, is in a way, a prayer to Moquol. And as some say, prayer is power. If that is the case:

    These guys are very powerful. The Temperate Mother, High Priestess of Moquol and on par with people like Sir Randolph of Heiorneous is as a rather obscure figure. You won't find her walking around the City. You won't find her checking wares at the lower bazaar were you are about to go in. No.

    This church leader runs business. Serious business that one can only guess at. Up in her ever expanding tower, one can only guess what ventures and the absurd amount of money that is being thrown around back and forth, all for the betterment of the City.

    This of course, brings up the next issue- Thresher.

    To claim that Thresher was made by someone from Runestone would be very accurate. Wizards like Camus spend years burning their hands at a forge and through diligent study and after one too many failed attempts, the mage walks out with a curved spine and the ability to weld, hammer and shape any item, from mundane to magical.

    It is these specialized mages that make the Royal Guard rightfully feared and respected. After all, a warrior is only as good as his weapon, right? But to claim with absolute certainty that Thresher was crafted at Runestone?

    Might need some fact checking.

    The Church of Moquol, with their seemingly infinite coffers, attract the best crafters around the world. Not only those who dabble in Magic, but they are their prime target. They know people want items of power. These can be found at Runestone, yes, but when the Academy finds that many of their mages have moved across town, well... that's why you're here.

    Security at the Tower- even in the Lower Bazaar- is pretty tight. It's well known that many churches have personal armies, answering the King and City, but ultimately their church and faith. Those who would serve the Temperate Mother are said to be on par with Royal Guards in training. With her cadre of crafters, you can only guess what weapons are concealed in those fancy sheaths, as they nod respectfully to you and keep their eyes out for the real threat in a House made of Money:

    Olidammarans.

    The merchants don't want to misdirect you: the Auran Masks are here. And if you have the coin, they will gladly do business with you, followed by them kissing one of the coins and looking up at the immense tower. Communion has been partaken in.


    @Ilven: That wasn't the Highfather.

    Unless you've been living under a rock, you and everyone here would know who High Father Jace the Exalted is.

    For one, he isn't human... quite. High Father Jace of the Church of Pelor is the most holy union this City may have ever seen between a mortal and a messenger of the Almighty. The oldest Church leader to date, The Exalted does make public appearances- far more than the others. It's in his nature. He can't help it. After all:

    Wings were meant to be used. The man who so graciously greeted you at Cathedral Ward looked as human as they come. And just as helpful.

    And when the others are gone, you browse through the mail and notice nothing of particular interest before setting down for the night in your old dark apartment. Whether you partook on Healing Ministration or not, you can't help but pat the areas where the shots hit you, despite the wounds being gone or partially healed by Daun.

    Once the few rays of the sun seep through the windows of your home, it's time to do some shopping of your own. A bunch of magic items: potions. Of course... potions.

    Captain Ludwig never did trust such potions back in the day. He scoffed at those in the Helguard who relied upon them because some... simply didn't work. And in the midst of battle, quaffing said potion usually meant getting disemboweled. Taking it beforehand (assuming a battle could be anticipated and get the jump on), rarely spelled success.

    But that was then. Out in the untamed wilds. Fighting... whatever your mind has decided to shut down due to age. Now it's an age of "Magic". Everyone loves magic, right? Why shouldn't you?

    The potions, being arcane in nature, should be available at Runestone. You have been there before and simply need to announce your name at the gates or even mention Camus and they will most likely open for you. Chances are some churches and possibly even Glenndale has the Delay Poison one, but bards are known for chanting such incantation as well. If you can find all your eggs in one basket, all the better.


    Campus is already rife with students, many who stare at you with inquisitive looks. They have seen elves with bows before, of course. But a bearded elf? And decidedly not a half elf? That's still a hard pill to swallow.

    It's a balding gnome by the name of Sinio who meets you at the Academy's store and forge, with a dozen or so mages working behind, clanging metal and magic against the anvil.

    They don't have the Auran Masks. They did, but they're fresh out. Being Runestone, potions are definitely in stock. But having been brewed by novices, they aren't the most powerful, which is pretty much what you expected.

    It's expensive, but the potions are all neatly labeled and placed in a wooden box as the money pouch, ready to burst at the seams, exchanges hands.

    Well, you can be invisible now. You can fly... and you should be able to avoid the worst of the poison, should you decide to return to that awful ashen place.

    And then, a few yards away from you, your keen archer eyes spot mighty Archmage Camus and his pet weasel, Thing.

    The wizard hasn't noticed you, as he reads some piece of paper and walks absentmindedly towards his quarters, with the younger students bowing to him, but Camus being Camus, doesn't even return the greeting.


    @Camus: A lot of money being spent... better be worth it.

    Thing jumps off your shoulder and curdles back into the still unmade bed, trying to cold around the warm sheets as you light up the stove and begin heating water for some morning tea and sit down at your desk, placing both scrolls on top and glancing at Amarille's portrait.

    Basic instinct tells you you should not return to that place, but if those answers from the night prior are true... and about them. Some give you hope, others, perhaps not the opposite. But again, Divination isn't an exact science. Nine questions and answers. all ingrained into your mind and your mind only.

    Now how to go about them? Well, for starters...

    Thing snores lightly on the warm bed as you lower your head and write down a message for Daun, just as the kettle whistles and you pour yourself some tea and use the flames from the stove to burn away the parchment, carrying its words directly to her.

    You told them it would be two days, maybe less.

    Turns out it's less. But will the old adage prove true?

    Third time's the charm?

  28. - Top - End - #958
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    WhiteWizardGirl

    Join Date
    May 2016

    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Daun shrugs. "That was the last I heard from them as well. They can be... well, you know the Castaferni's."

    Daun leaves Manny's a bit tipsy, which rapidly wears off as her body's ability to purify poisons kicks in. Between her own healing and wildshaping one last time, Daun doesn't actually need healing from the church, but she goes with Kalir anyway, happy to chat away with the raptoran and old Helguard. When they're finished, they bid Ilven goodnight, and Daun shifts back into her familiar avian form. She perches on a lamppost and eyes Kalir.

    "Hey... race me back to Glenndale." And after just a moment for him to get ready, she shoots off above the rooftops towards the park.

    Spoiler
    Show
    If Kalir agrees to the race, I figure I'll let you decide who wins. I believe ravens and Kalir have the same 40' fly speed, so it should be close even in game terms.


    At home, she leads them back to the spot of woods where she usually stays, not far from her private glade. She shifts back into a human, catching her breath from the exercise and grinning ear to ear. She greets her faithful dinosaur as usual, and sets up for bed. She keeps conversation with the royal guard for a while, for once talking about more normal things than monsters and missing friends, before eventually falling asleep somewhere in the middle of their conversation.

    She's up early the next morning, as usual, and carries out her normal morning business of cleaning off the blood and smoke from the day before in her hidden grove. She's disturbed a bit into meditating by Camus' sending.
    Will do. See you there.

    She watches the overcast sky roll by and meditates on her spells. It seemed even mother nature was preparing Hamalthan for a storm today. Well, Daun could happily oblige. She feels her hair stir with the power of the skies as she prepares for today's fights. She turns to T'Nauri to give him the bad news. "Sorry big guy, you get another day off. It's going to be rainy anyway, you don't want to join..."

    She returns to find Kalir under the gaze of a few other druids, ready to start swinging the ax. Red with embarrassment, she walks up to the raptoran and starts leading him away by the wrist.
    "Why don't we do that... um, literally anywhere else, Kalir. Camus wants to meet up at his place before we head out."
    Spoiler: Small Grammatical Library: use as desired. Please return links to front desk after checking them out.
    Show

  29. - Top - End - #959
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BlueKnightGuy

    Join Date
    Mar 2015

    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Ilven must have had far more than one too many, if the highfather’s appearance was that distinctive. Even living under a rock, wings are not the sort of thing one takes for granite. All the more reason to accept the Healing Church’s ministrations- best not to feel the effects of that one in the morning.

    As much as potions and such sundries stunk of taking the easy way out... the fact was the elves do not fly (Archmages excepted). Nor do they turn invisible, or a thousand other things that could be temporarily fixed through spending far, far too much money.

    Speaking of Archmages... this one apparently dressed somewhat closer to an ordinary person when within Runestone’s walls. Funny, most people would do the opposite, but perhaps wizards enjoyed the attention that ornate robes brought beyond these gates.

    Well, the store here hadn’t had one item on his ever-growing list. Rather than scour every shop in the city (or, more realistically, check one or maybe two and call it a day), he could just ask. Wizards all knew each other, right?

    Archmage,” Ilven addresses... well, the archmage, falling into step beside him. “Still thinking, or do you have a moment...I’m looking for Auran masks on a rather short notice, and the gnome seems to be out of stock. Where can I find more?”

  30. - Top - End - #960
    Titan in the Playground
     
    Chimaera's Avatar

    Join Date
    Mar 2012
    Location
    Porto Alegre, Brazil
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: The Tides that Bind IC

    Archmage Camus was very distracted, so when Ilven call him out the archmage stop on his tracks and turn around to look at the elven archer. "Greetings, Sir Ilven. I was just now hoping to speak with you, Helguard".

    He walk to the living fossil legend and frown at his questions, "I'm no city guide, but if I had to guess I'm sure you can find a legion of merchants whiling to sell all kind of magical wares in the Tower of Commerce: many of Runestone fine craftsman work either there or to the SMC after all".

    Camus motion with his hand for the archer to follow suit, "I have some tea over my quarters and I'm waiting for Lady Daun and Royal Guard Kalir to join us to discuss what I've learned with my divinations. If you wish, we may take a detour and stop by the Tower of Commerce to see if we can find you an auran mask before we go to that place".

    If Ilven follow along, Camus will take him into his quarters and offer him some of his not-so-favorite tea as well as any fruit from the basket in his table, "After last night I've decided to seek the wisdom of the divine and found a few answers to some questions and ended up with a handful more questions than I started with... But I guess I better wait the rest to find their way here so I dont have to repeat myself".

    While waiting, Camus look at the grim covered jar and move it inside the Greater Alarm area where Kalir slept the other night, since his last casting would end soon. "If all go as planned, I'll get rid of this damn thing soon", he says more to himself than to the old elf.

    Seating back at the table, he pour tea to himself and check his expensive-looking pocketwatch. Hopefully Daun and Kalir would reach Runestone soon, so he dont have to waste his time with small talk.
    Ruven Feathers, tengu opportunist with a keen eye for gold and an accute scent for death.

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