Anauroch: Empire of Shade IC

[rax]

"Then it seems Lady Luck wished for us to find elves before a portal. Miss Eryn, you speak their language and have a way with words - let us go speak to them," Aubryn suggests with an impish smile.

[Palanan]

Eryn nods slightly, and switches songs again—this time to a wordless melody, elegant and dignified, which has been sung since time immemorial as envoys of peace journeyed forth.

[Nines]

"Yes, a division of labors." Concurred Lune, at the knight's proffering of an envoy, as he resumed his pace on the path, and planning as he went. "It seems we have a volunteer for parley," He said, referring to the Elvish song of peace being sung,
"though her dialect is strange to my ears. It is not the king's elvish, but it will do." Said the northern ranger, elaborating as an aside. "I shall ensure their veracity. If there is duplicity at work, I will signal." He said, addressing the group as they moved to engage.

[Goby]

Hearing Lune’s warning of guards ahead, Doria pauses to see how the group plans to approach. Agreeing with the wisdom of Aubryn and Eryn’s plan to approach openly, she steps aside to allow them to lead the way, as they seem better suited to parley with elves.
She follows behind them, hands at her sides and away from her axe in an attempt to appear non-threatening, and keeps watch to the rear as they approach the sentries.

[Palanan]

Eryn continues singing as she and Aubryn approach the elves, who have likely heard the ancient melody by now.

[paradox26]

Numerous restored roads and well-used trails lead into Myth Drannor now, but access to the city still seems to be restricted. Armed patrols of moon elves are stopping all inbound travelers. “Halt! State your names and business in Myth Drannor!” says an authoritative voice. Two elves armed with swords and longbows accompanied by a wolf have appeared from somewhere in the throng. One of the elves holds a piece of parchment and a pen.

The elves are humming the song that the party is singing, so they have obviously heard your approach. They don't seem overly alarmed, suggesting that the city must be mostly peaceful these days.

[Nines]

From his middle position, Ixtalan used the slight delay in the patrol taking stock of his approach along the trail to study them. Drawing on the empathic link of his watcher's keen senses in the canopy, and affixing his own gaze upon them, he stared into unseen worlds for a few moments to determine what magicks might lay about their heads, like coiling snakes, before silently invoking the Lady of Forests' sight as he sought the truth of their forms.

Once he had his answers, he relaxed into a veneer of casual friendliness, lacking at once the tension of his former bearing, and affecting the posture of the gentle academic the group had met in the Sage's foyer, as he idly waited, without a care to be seen upon his face. It was a shapeshift entirely bereft of Art, but one born of long years of practice, and no less miraculous to glimpse in it's entirety.
*****

"Hafflestir," returned the visibly unarmed, but now ill-attired academic, in turn to the prompting of the patrol. "Belsen Hafflestir. Professor of antiquities, of Her Lady's College." He added, "You can check my credentials with them, if you like. All in order." He said, with adroit perfidy. "I'll merely be assisting these fine folk and recording any archaeological disturbances in the vicinity." He elaborated rather quickly, with a casually well-timed hand gesture to flash the Towerkin Ring upon his hand. "Did you get all of that?" He said inquiringly, looking directly to the sentry with the writing materials. "H - A, two F's — oh dear, you'll never get it right," He began, before stopping to fumble about himself for his own papers and ink, and in some of amount of audible distress. "Ah, here we are." He surmised, withdrawing nearly identical implements, and prattling on as he wrote.

"Apologies for my field dress... I know it's a bit off-putting. Former Silvaeren Guard — you see. Retired, of course. Many years." He continued apace, making seemingly large scrawls upon the page, "I'm sure you can relate. But you can never be too careful on these little excursions," He stressed, as he went on, adding flourishes to his writing for emphasis, and almost in-time as he spoke, "why, this one time — I was accosted by a Chuultan viper! Got me right in my bootheel!" He exclaimed, and hitting the page with his quill, as he punctuated both the tale and the document simultaneously. "Dastardly thing, 'twas a good thing I was wearing them, too. Else, I wouldn't be standing here today." He said, stomping a foot as he finished both the story and the linen square, and handed the parchment to the recordsman amiably.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sense motive: 25 check result (take 10, aid another)
*sense any active enchantments present *SRD

Mielikki's truth (passive): Unerringly identify forest environment creatures by sight or spoor. Automatically know if disguised, altered, what magic was used, and where it was done.

Detect magic (active):
Identify magical auras, number, strength, and school.

Bluff: 29 check result (take 10)
*Fast-talk the guards.

Retrieve items: disappearing ink *T&B, parchment *forger's kit

Craft (calligraphy): 20 check result (take 10)
*hand them an exquisitely crafted parchment containing the info. Ink fades completely in 8hrs.

[Palanan]

When Eryn approaches the moon elves, she will sing a wordless refrain to her song in harmony with their humming, and then will let her voice trail off.

“Uluán-sé qärian ẏn-salán, īlio nal olónorië qi’ilanesse së slára,” she begins, an ancient greeting from the first days of the Orishaar, and then continues in a faintly archaic dialect:

“I hight Erynessë, of the Sisters of Holy Succour of Our Lady Mielikki, and this—” with a gesture to Aubryn— “is his Lordship Sir Aubryn Amcathra, a knight of Cormyr. Our companions and we have been selected by Elminster of Shadowdale for a matter of deep concern to the safety of your realm, and perhaps to all the lands between here and Silverymoon.

“We would respectfully request an immediate audience with the Coronal, to pay our respects and to advise her of Elminster’s concerns, and of the role which he has requested we play. We would ask that you bring us before her as soon as may be possible, since Elminster feels the matter requires urgent attention.”

.

[rax]

"It fills me with joy to see the City of Song restored to its rightful heirs," Aubryn addresses the elves with a respectful bow.

[paradox26]

From his middle position, Ixtalan used the slight delay in the patrol taking stock of his approach along the trail to study them. Drawing on the empathic link of his watcher's keen senses in the canopy, and affixing his own gaze upon them, he stared into unseen worlds for a few moments to determine what magicks might lay about their heads, like coiling snakes, before silently invoking the Lady of Forests' sight as he sought the truth of their forms.

Once he had his answers, he relaxed into a veneer of casual friendliness, lacking at once the tension of his former bearing, and affecting the posture of the gentle academic the group had met in the Sage's foyer, as he idly waited, without a care to be seen upon his face. It was a shapeshift entirely bereft of Art, but one born of long years of practice, and no less miraculous to glimpse in it's entirety.
*****

"Hafflestir," returned the visibly unarmed, but now ill-attired academic, in turn to the prompting of the patrol. "Belsen Hafflestir. Professor of antiquities, of Her Lady's College." He added, "You can check my credentials with them, if you like. All in order." He said, with adroit perfidy. "I'll merely be assisting these fine folk and recording any archaeological disturbances in the vicinity." He elaborated rather quickly, with a casually well-timed hand gesture to flash the Towerkin Ring upon his hand. "Did you get all of that?" He said inquiringly, looking directly to the sentry with the writing materials. "H - A, two F's — oh dear, you'll never get it right," He began, before stopping to fumble about himself for his own papers and ink, and in some of amount of audible distress. "Ah, here we are." He surmised, withdrawing nearly identical implements, and prattling on as he wrote.

"Apologies for my field dress... I know it's a bit off-putting. Former Silvaeren Guard — you see. Retired, of course. Many years." He continued apace, making seemingly large scrawls upon the page, "I'm sure you can relate. But you can never be too careful on these little excursions," He stressed, as he went on, adding flourishes to his writing for emphasis, and almost in-time as he spoke, "why, this one time — I was accosted by a Chuultan viper! Got me right in my bootheel!" He exclaimed, and hitting the page with his quill, as he punctuated both the tale and the document simultaneously. "Dastardly thing, 'twas a good thing I was wearing them, too. Else, I wouldn't be standing here today." He said, stomping a foot as he finished both the story and the linen square, and handed the parchment to the recordsman amiably.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sense motive: 25 check result (take 10, aid another)
*sense any active enchantments present *SRD

Mielikki's truth (passive): Unerringly identify forest environment creatures by sight or spoor. Automatically know if disguised, altered, what magic was used, and where it was done.

Detect magic (active):
Identify magical auras, number, strength, and school.

Bluff: 29 check result (take 10)
*Fast-talk the guards.

Retrieve items: disappearing ink *T&B, parchment *forger's kit

Craft (calligraphy): 20 check result (take 10)
*hand them an exquisitely crafted parchment containing the info. Ink fades completely in 8hrs.

"Greetings, Belsen Hafflestir. You are welcome among our people," the leading guard says, as he writes down the name and purpose.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

You detect no magical items on them apart from each wearing an Elven Cloak, a minor piece of magic that provides assistance in stealthy movement. You appear to have successfully bluffed the guards. And they don't seem to be anything other than what they appear, simple city guards.

When Eryn approaches the moon elves, she will sing a wordless refrain to her song in harmony with their humming, and then will let her voice trail off.

“Uluán-sé qärian ẏn-salán, īlio nal olónorië qi’ilanesse së slára,” she begins, an ancient greeting from the first days of the Orishaar, and then continues in a faintly archaic dialect:

“I hight Erynessë, of the Sisters of Holy Succour of Our Lady Mielikki, and this—” with a gesture to Aubryn— “is his Lordship Sir Aubryn Amcathra, a knight of Cormyr. Our companions and we have been selected by Elminster of Shadowdale for a matter of deep concern to the safety of your realm, and perhaps to all the lands between here and Silverymoon.

“We would respectfully request an immediate audience with the Coronal, to pay our respects and to advise her of Elminster’s concerns, and of the role which he has requested we play. We would ask that you bring us before her as soon as may be possible, since Elminster feels the matter requires urgent attention.”

.

"Greetings, Lady Erynesse and Sir Aubryn. You are most welcome among our number here in the city. Servants of Mielikki are always welcome here. You are welcome to attend the Coronal, if you come here bearing Lord Elminster's good graces," the same guard says.

"It fills me with joy to see the City of Song restored to its rightful heirs," Aubryn addresses the elves with a respectful bow.

"You have the right of that, my friend. The elven people will not be driven from our lands again. I lived in EVermeet for many years, but am glad to be back in our homeland," the second guard says.

[Nines]

"Delightful!" said Ixtalan, continuing to feign his affected enthusiasm, as he moved to the front and turned to address everyone in conference. "Well this has been a splendid day thus far, with the fresh morning dew." he surmised openly, while wiping his brow despite the brief journey, and presenting a flat, upward palm to the morning air, before subtly dusting one shoulder of mild condensation. "Take care to enjoy it." He bade the patrolmen with a hand, as he finished both of his communications. Their minds are free. They wear no faces. read the hand signs blended amidst the pleasantries, as he prepared to depart the sentries' company and continue on.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Bluff: pass simple secret messages DC 15
29 check result (take 10)

[Palanan]

“We wish you joy of your return to these lands,” Eryn answers the elven guard, “but time is short and our need is pressing. Shall you bring us before the Coronal, or tell us where we may find her?”

[paradox26]

The guards appear relaxed, knowing you have come from Elminster, so they don't expect any evil activity from the party. They don't appear to have noticed the secret message, and just wave you through. "We must stay here at our post. You may6 enter the city. Look for the largest tree in sight, and that will be the Coronal's palace," one of the guards says.

[Palanan]

Eryn gives the guards a courteous thanks, glances to Aubryn, and ventures forth in search of the Coronal's mighty tree.

[rax]

Aubryn also offers his thanks before heading for the largest tree in sight...

[paradox26]

The party finds a well travelled path that leads to a huge tree. Many elves are walking in and out of it, showing that it has clearly been hollowed out on the inside.

You show your rings to the guards, and are quickly shown inside. A young female elf, or one you can only assume is young for the timeless elves, sits on a throne. "Greetings, travellers. I understand that you come bearing rings with the arcane sigil of Elminster inscribed upon them. What can I do for him?" she asks, her voice musical.

[Palanan]

“Thank you for your welcome, and the kind courtesy of your attention,” Eryn says in her most respectfully inflected Elven. “We have been chosen by Elminster to seek out a matter of some concern to him.

“He has reason to believe that Shades have targeted Windsong Tower for some unholy purpose, and he has selected my companions and I—” she gestures to those companions who have joined her— “to pursue this matter wherever it may lead us.

“Since this impinges upon the safety of Myth Drannor itself, we thought it best that you should be advised of Elminster’s concerns and our mission in his name—both that you may be on your guard throughout Myth Drannor, and that you may know what has likely happened should we not return.

“It was Elminster’s wish that we enter Windsong Tower as soon as we may, since he felt time was of the utmost urgency in this matter. We would thus ask your leave to enter there forthwith, and we will send word when we are able of what we have discovered within.”

[paradox26]

The Coronal looks disturbed by the news the party provides. "Shades? We have sparred with them in the past, but did not think them to be major enemies we would encounter, especially here in our own homeland," she says.

"You may of course enter Windsong Tower, as it will benefit us a great deal for you to deal with the Shades. Be careful within, as it has not been reclaimed fully by our people, and there could be virtually anything found within. I would appreciate your offer to let us know what you discover within, especially if your investigation later leads you away from Myth Drannor," she adds, her elven voice slightly alien, yet truly beautiful.

[rax]

"I fear the shades are enemies of us all, Your Highness. It is barely three years since they marched on Tilverton and caused its destruction. It would be wise to assume that they will go where they will to achieve their aims, and that they care little what troubles they cause here or in the Heartlands," Aubryn replied.

"We will depart at once, Your Highness, but Lord Elminster instructed us to seek out a portal, and that these rings would then take us to the Tower. It would certainly speed matters up if someone here could show us the way to the nearest portal," he adds with a slightly embarrassed look.

[Nines]

The raven swooped down to return to his pauldron perch as the treetops gave way to the town walls. Ixtalan departed the company of his fellows at the city gates with a knowing nod as they sought the grand tree. He briefly examined the passersby, before cutting through a deserted alley as he mentally accessed his kiira.

He emerged as a well-garbed moon elf, his momentary glamer would afford him privacy as he traversed the city. Taking a northern route through the city to the east, after muttering another small incantation to find an expeditious and less traveled route to the establishment he sought. He slipped through the slim streets deftly, as it's pull guided him unerringly. His auguries delivering him swiftly, he was soon greeted by the newly constructed facades of a great library, adorned by an inscription of a blank scroll above large oaken doors ajar to the morning air, welcoming of travelers near and far. Adjacent the entrance steps, a pair of minstrels conversed between ballads, instruments at rest as a small throng of listeners was departing.

Ascending the stone reliefs, before passing through the doors and the large rotunda foyer, that gave way to a hall of books and scrolls upon wooden shelves that lined the far walls three-men high, with ladders and desks filling the expanse between them. The Namers here had just finished the morning's oblations, and were largely conversing amongst themselves. Ixtalan took a hard left, seeking the local loremaster of this great temple. Finding the office empty, and of a familiar location to other temples throughout the region, Ixtalan retrieved a sealed letter from his satchel bearing a wax seal of the same blank scroll upon its flap. Laying the missive upon the large, carved desk currently devoid of its steward, its skyward face addressed simply as 'Goomlarin OO'.

Departing the library without a word, he descended once more onto the streets of Myth Drannor. Greeting one of the minstrels on his exit with the oblique gesture of the Harpist's Hand, after his briefest notice by the pair, before receiving one in return as acknowledgement. He retraced the steps foretold in his earlier divination, as he once more picked up the sunlit trail of the Binder's golden threads now bisecting the city to the southwest, before taking his leave to scout the rendezvous point in advance of his companions.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Retrieve Allan; stow familiar pocket
access lore gem: prepare spells, partial

cast disguise self
glamer: "moon elf courtier"
Disguise: 34 check result (take 10, +10 spell)

cast guided path
locale: "shortest path to the temple of Oghma"

follow active spell:
find the path "the nearest working portal within five miles of Windsong Tower."

portal arrival: passive Spot 27 Ixtalan

[paradox26]

"I fear the shades are enemies of us all, Your Highness. It is barely three years since they marched on Tilverton and caused its destruction. It would be wise to assume that they will go where they will to achieve their aims, and that they care little what troubles they cause here or in the Heartlands," Aubryn replied.

"We will depart at once, Your Highness, but Lord Elminster instructed us to seek out a portal, and that these rings would then take us to the Tower. It would certainly speed matters up if someone here could show us the way to the nearest portal," he adds with a slightly embarrassed look.

"Of course. The nearest portal is in the Temple of Corallon Larethian. Follow the path outside of the palace to the east, then take the first turn to the north. You will find it there," the Coronal says. "Ask one of the priests there, and show them your rings. They will take you to the portal. Normally it leads to Evermeet, but your rings will direct you to the WIndsong Tower."

The raven swooped down to return to his pauldron perch as the treetops gave way to the town walls. Ixtalan departed the company of his fellows at the city gates with a knowing nod as they sought the grand tree. He briefly examined the passersby, before cutting through a deserted alley as he mentally accessed his kiira.

He emerged as a well-garbed moon elf, his momentary glamer would afford him privacy as he traversed the city. Taking a northern route through the city to the east, after muttering another small incantation to find an expeditious and less traveled route to the establishment he sought. He slipped through the slim streets deftly, as it's pull guided him unerringly. His auguries delivering him swiftly, he was soon greeted by the newly constructed facades of a great library, adorned by an inscription of a blank scroll above large oaken doors ajar to the morning air, welcoming of travelers near and far. Adjacent the entrance steps, a pair of minstrels conversed between ballads, instruments at rest as a small throng of listeners was departing.

Ascending the stone reliefs, before passing through the doors and the large rotunda foyer, that gave way to a hall of books and scrolls upon wooden shelves that lined the far walls three-men high, with ladders and desks filling the expanse between them. The Namers here had just finished the morning's oblations, and were largely conversing amongst themselves. Ixtalan took a hard left, seeking the local loremaster of this great temple. Finding the office empty, and of a familiar location to other temples throughout the region, Ixtalan retrieved a sealed letter from his satchel bearing a wax seal of the same blank scroll upon its flap. Laying the missive upon the large, carved desk currently devoid of its steward, its skyward face addressed simply as 'Goomlarin OO'.

Departing the library without a word, he descended once more onto the streets of Myth Drannor. Greeting one of the minstrels on his exit with the oblique gesture of the Harpist's Hand, after his briefest notice by the pair, before receiving one in return as acknowledgement. He retraced the steps foretold in his earlier divination, as he once more picked up the sunlit trail of the Binder's golden threads now bisecting the city to the southwest, before taking his leave to scout the rendezvous point in advance of his companions.

The Loremaster isn't there. Ixtalan sees a small Oghman symbol on the desk in a box with several others. He takes one to mark that the letter has been delivered.

The minstrel who Ixtalan marks with the Harpist's Hand repeats the gesture, and looks around casually. He seems to be checking to make sure that Ixtalan isn't being followed, and after a brief but thorough check, the minstrel gestures with an all clear signal.

Ixtalan then finds his way to the doors of the Mystran temple. The guards on the door look carefully, and block the entrance. Being servants of the Church of Mystra, though, they likely have anti illusion screens up, and are confused about why someone would be here in a different form. "Halt, pilgrim. What brings a stranger to the door of Mystra's temple? And under false colours at that," one of the guards asks, her gaze stern but not unfriendly.

[Palanan]

Evermeet….

Eryn can’t help but be tempted at the name of the legendary island across the sea; but she gives the Coronal a respectful bow, followed by her most deferential thanks; and with that she will make her departure from the Coronal’s palace, and together with her remaining companions she will shape her course for the temple of the Coronal of Arvandor.

[Nines]

"Oh, you're right. How silly of me to forget my alabaster and azure this highsun." Ixtalan replied cordially, as he stopped to redress the doorsman of the temple sensitively about 'colors', lest someone overhear the exchange. "I must have left them in my haste to find my belt this morning." He said eyeingly, and brushing his cloak aside just enough with the words to reveal a stout chain-link rod affixed to a loop upon it. It was a powerful and purely defensive relic of the Mystran faith, of which nary a handful existed, and entrusted with great care only to a proven defender of the Weave. "Truefriends," He said, giving a watchword of solidarity, "please excuse the indiscretion, as I only needed my head covered against The Night." He circled and ended, referring back to the glamer and the need for protection from The Lady's enemies.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Negotiate passage and overlook the glamer
Diplomacy: 29 check result (take 10)

Pass secret messages to a fellow member
Bluff: 29 check result (take 10)

reveal rod of reversal relic to prove identity
Guards: religion DC 15 to identify the item on sight.

*Note: All Mystran adherents have at least 2 ranks in Religion, and can take 10 on the check.

[paradox26]

The party reunites at the Temple of Mystra, where Ixtalan is already in discussion with the guards. The guards, upon seeing the relic of the Lady, are prepared to permit access. One of the guards leads the party inside the temple with no words but a simple gesture. You are taken to the office of the city's High Priestess of Mystra. You are led inside, and find her sitting behind her desk reading a scroll.

"These pilgrims seek a boon from you, Mistress," the guard tells her.

"Greetings strangers. What brings you to the Temple of Our Lady?" she asks you.

[Nines]

Ixtalan paused briefly in the entryway of the Temple of Mysteries, after being safely ushered inside alongside his newly returned companions. Bowing his head in an act of contrition, beside a brazier of blue flame adjacent to the door, he completed a silent act of will. He released the form of the glamer upon himself to the aether, taking his own form once more, as he offered the remnants of its Art into the fire, and back to the Mistress of Magic in quiet gratitude.

After the oblation, he found himself surmising the temples walls, their faces adorned with countless glyphs and runes, some physical, but many visible only to his arcane eyes. It was a familiar sight of sanctuary to him, that assured him he had no need of deception here. There no doubt lay more worked Will in these walls than anywhere else in a hundred leagues.

Rejoining the group after his brief waylay, he found the head priestess in studious quarters and to be of a comparably casual demeanor. The newly reconstructed temples were still far from the reach of the central church, and thus did not have the air of formality so often felt in the epicenters of commerce and his native North.

"Highsun's greetings, Mistress," Ixtalan began respectfully, and referring to one of the two most auspicious times of day to a Mystran. "my company and I come to you at the behest of Her Chosen, the one called Aumar." He began, as he relayed their mutual benefactor. "He sends his tidings and warmth for Our Lady's renewed presence in the City of Song," He spoke with a stately comportment and without haste, always being one to observe courtesy, even in the face of peril, "However, it is on the heels of dire news I fear." before coming finally to his true intentions. "It is his belief that there exists a plot against Windsong Tower, and we have been tasked with it's undoing." He explained gravely. "We have been entrusted with a portal key", he said, holding up a hand bearing the elven band of the tower's makers, "and would ask for your leave to use this temple's gate to seek the provocateurs directly." He finished succinctly and of a calm, letting the gravity of the news do his work for him.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

dismiss disguise self (D)

perform oblation to Mystra
Religion: 21 check result (take 10)

convey the truth of his words
Diplomacy: 29 check result (take 10)

[paradox26]

The Mistress rises from her seat and moves around her desk to examine the rings each of you bear, and particularly the inscribed sigil of Elminster. She mutters a word, and examines the aura that illuminates the rings. Seemingly satisfied, she nods her approval.

"I see you speak truth here, for in this chamber there is no other means of speech, with the Lady's blessing. But your rings confirm that you come from the Lady's favourite Chosen. You may use the portal that lies within this chamber. It will take you to Windsong Tower. Be cautious of what you find within, for the ways of magic can be treacherous to the unwary," she says. She gestures at what you thought to be a full length mirror in a corner of the room. It is covered in a cloth, but she removes that and reveals that it is indeed a mirror.

"Rub the ring you bear, then step through the mirror and it will take you to the Tower," she instructs.

[Alhallor]

Shraxtrix bows towards the cleric of Mystra. Thank you much, Mystra-speaker. Here, take this for your trouble.

Shraxtrix lays a semi-precious gem on the desk, then the rag-covered brownish kobold rubs the ring as instructed and goes towards the mirror, ready to step through and get teleported to Windsong tower.

Originally Shrax would have liked to lay a Haste on everybody before they stepped through but the warning that magic was still unpredictable hampered her nurturing spirit enough to stop herself.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Give the cleric of mystra a 50 Gold worthy gem (likely a tiger-eye or something).
Don't cast any spells for now but stay in Island of Blades stance.

[BananaPhone]

Faora


Lurking at the rear of the group, her unusual height topped by a crown of long, red-orange hair, Faora had exhibited a quiet wherewithal that had ensured her presence was seen but not heard. Her large, green eyes seemed to peer at her surroundings with penetrating glare that nevertheless seemed to be staring at something beyond whatever was standing before her, as if he mind were in two places at once.

"Grrrrrrrrrmmmhhh....." the deep rumbling from her side drew the druids attention as she pivoted her head on her neck to draw herself eye-level with the enormous dire bear standing next to her. The large, heavyset beast grumbled again softly, its timbre like that of a whiney child that didn't want to eat his vegetables, as he turned his large, lazy eyes away from the shimmering portal before the party. The shoulders of the animal were higher still, its seemingly lumbering, towering frame having to initially squeeze itself together enough just to fit in through the door to enter the room.

"Stop whinging, Cuddles, we're going through the portal," Faora responded with her sonorous voice, sounding like a mother telling her child how to behave.

"Grrmmmphh..." the animal sulked its massive head to the side, a ripple running across the thick ruddy-brown fur across the dire bears shoulders as the slabs of muscle beneath shifted to accommodate the new allocation of weight.

"It doesn't matter if you don't want to; we have to."

This did not seem to lift its mood, as the bear emitted another whining, rumbling sound, tilting its head once again.

"The sooner we get this done, the sooner it'll be over and later, we can find you some nice salmon - would you like that?"

A sparkle entered the bears big, lazy eyes.

"...grrmh?"

"Yes..." Faora smiled, raising her closest hand beneath the bears chin and scratching her fingers against that huge jaw, the animals back reflexively dipping from the sudden enjoyable sensation shooting across its body.

"And if you're very good, I'll let you hunt a wild pig..."

The beasts eyes glittered further as what could only be described as a smile arched its thick, dark lips and a satisfied growl rumbled like soft thunder from within its deep chest.

"Yes, I thought you'd agree!" the druid coo'ed, scratching her pets chin just a little more before retrieving her hand, a look of victory on her face as her lips arched into a smile.

"Good boy! Now come along, we're holding up the line..." she tapped the tip of her finely carved staff against the shoulder of her companion, the bear putting a huge, heavy paw forward as the two would follow the others through the portal and into beyond...

[samduke]

Darla

Sitting upon Ruh, with Sharak upon her shoulder, With her little thieves safetly stowed away. She watched the others as they entered the portal. Looking across at Faora and her bear. as they enter. Now Ruh it is our turn as she urged the large cat through the portal.

[rax]

"We thank you, gracious lady," Aubryn says to the priestess with a respectful bow. He then rubs his ring as instructed and steps through the mirror to join the others.