[3.5] The Refounding [IC]

moritheil · 05-30-2012, 11:03 PM

Goblins, unified by the cunning Grashak into a single horde, pressed the human and elven nations for a land of their own. Months of battle have taken their toll on the surrounding countryside. The Demon Lord Derwydden attempted to seize this opportunity, bargaining with the goblins to open a portal and catch the good armies unawares between them, but an avatar of a greater power took offense at this interference in the war and smashed the plan.

With the goblins in disarray after this failed gambit, there is now a lull in the war. Many warriors gathered by the fighting have decided to take up new causes. One such group has determined that the legendary home of learning for swordsages, warblades, and crusaders, should be re-founded. Their first task is to find the remnants of the old temple where Reshar, the legendary Master of Nine, once lived and taught.

The world of Mori is hazardous. Grashak still dreams of empire. Demons still occasionally appear, survivors of the portal. Bandits, undead, and elementals are said to roam the countryside. Against these, our heroes have their wits, their blades, and a newfound purpose - rebuild the Temple of Nine Swords.

[Dice rolls and in-character actions in this thread. Use spoiler blocks and mark them as DM only, DM and other person, mechanical explanation, etc. Questions, comments, suggestions? OOC thread is here. Character list is here.]

moritheil · 05-30-2012, 11:34 PM

It is early morning in Ferdham, and mists still cling to the ramshackle streets. With its details obscured, the city almost looks like it has proper defensive structures, but the soldiers who have worked and fought here for months – some for years – know that the outer wall is made of at least 27 separate instances of conjured stone and iron, with wooden walkways hastily lashed together and rammed into place. The inner wall and inner city are no better. Hundreds of patch jobs – on the walls, on the roads, on the buildings themselves – give the place an appearance not unlike that of a crazy quilt. Ferdham is a bustling new city, but here in the hours of the morning, without the movement of troops and the sound of hawkers from all over Mori offering their wares, it is possible to see how fragile it is.

At the Feathered Coque Inn, the rooms are spare but clean. A few soldiers gather around a table in a private room, discussing their intentions.

Ithandor · 05-31-2012, 09:15 AM

Cerran the Grey

Ferdham. After days of travel through lands still recovering from war, Cerran found himself at his destination. Mists swirled around his feet as he walked through the streets.

Two steps left. Guard right, incoming sweep. Balance impeccable, likelihood of forcing a misstep low.
Getting through the gate had posed less of an issue than Cerran had anticipated; the wall was reasonably well staffed with armed guards, given the hour, but fortunately one of the halberdmen had recognised Cerran from one of his mission briefings during the Second Battle. Cerran didn't recognise the man - Albert, apparently. He hoped it wasn't his last stroke of luck this evening.

Sweep blocked. Testing weight? Must be trying to force overbalanced swings. Blows misleading - alternating light and heavy, seemingly unfocused but impeccable connection. Feint and *thrust*
Turning into the small square, he found his goal. The Feathered Coque. Although the sun was only threatening to rise, light streamed out several of the decoratively shuttered windows of the inn. So here the roads cross and the swords meet.

Advance now. Weakness in dealing with rapid strikes. Seeks to turn overwhelming blows. Keep footing, keep pressure. Build momentum, break defense, find gap, exploit gap. Build momentum, break defense, find gap, exploit gap.
Cerran entered the inn, drawing few gazes and fewer comments. He allows his mind to pass over the inn's occupants, scanning for non-humanoids. A red-haired bard sits across the common room, tuning an instrument between songs. It would be a private room, yes, where this meeting would occur. Away from prying ears. Yes, there.

The gap! The final strik.. no, what? Slipped away, behind, low. Gripped. Thrown. The ceiling, above. A knife, throat. A whisper, close. "You fought well, visitor. Yield."
Picking up a glass of the house wine, Cerran entered the private room at the back, without asking, and extracted a book from his bag. He picked a chair in the corner of the room, brightly lit with candles, and pulled over a small side table to set his wine upon. Thumbing the pages, he reflected.

Defeated, without effort. A voice, ringing clear. "Elya, Seventh Circle Master of the Setting Sun, victor". Colours and martial symbols adorned the dojo wall. Here is where the best trained. Dragon's, Tiger's, Raven's Land. Sun, Spirit, and Desert Sand. Heart, Mind and Shadow Hand.
The war is over. Perhaps now is the time. He had heard about like-minded warriors, proven in fire and steel. He had heard about plans to meet, here, tonight. About plans to find what had been lost, the place where warriors had once found themselves.

The Temple of Nine Swords

Moritheil:

Spoiler

Knowledge checks about Feldham:
Knowledge(history): (1d20+14)[33]
Knowledge(geography):(1d20+12)[15]
Knowledge(local):(1d20+19)[34]

Cerran will stay here, with the door to the room open. He'll poke through his book, only half reading it, sipping his wine, while continuously keeping an "eye" on the inn using Mindsight. Particularly, he will be most interesting in non-humanoids or high-Intelligence people approaching.

Beowulf DW · 05-31-2012, 11:25 AM

Conner strode through the streets of Ferdham quietly, nervously, and much too quickly to denote any level calmness. Human cities were so hectic, so disorganized, so...human. But you are a human says a little voice. Was that Conner's mind, or his heart? His mind, certainly. Diamond Mind was taught to him by the humans. The hobgoblins had given him Ironheart.

Conner turned a corner toward where he hoped the Feather Coque would be. He'd heard that there were people looking for swords there. No, not looking for swords. Looking for the swords. Were those the swords he'd been told to find? Couldn't hurt to find out.

At last, the Feather Coque was in sight. Conner made a beeline for it and walked right in. Taking a seat, he decided to sit back and let fate do some work for a change. Either the people he was looking for were here, or they weren't.

Aeryr · 05-31-2012, 01:21 PM

Aer the Raven

The bird alerted the man, with a movement of its feathered head it looked to the door when people entered. At first it just observed the man as he went into the common room. It was a grey grey man, alien to colour. The eyes of the familiar closed for a second observing the shiny silver in the stranger and moved on the shoulders of Aer. The bird was curious looking at him with undiluted interest, silver was shiny, and its bird eyes remained on the man till he entered a private room. The bird moved again pushing its beak against the skin of its owner.

Aer shocked his head before going back to his breakfast. Trying to gulp down the hard bread crisps with the help of some watered milk. He could, and in fact had, survive in rations alone for weeks or months in the wild, but having some other food to taste was always nice, after all rations end tasting like wagon's dust after a few weeks. After finishing his milk he crushed one last bread crumb and offered it to the raven, who started biting it greedily. While the bird fed the bard examined the room, it was still clean, only a couple of beer stains on the floor memento of the last night. It had been a passable night, he had listened to some uneventful conversations, danced to his heart content and even had a couple of fencing duels with some soldiers.

The Feathered Coque was just another Inn, Ferdham was just another city. It was just close to a fight, to a good fight, a fight that would let him hone his skills with the blade a little further, a little closer to perfection. In the meantime being close to the soldiers provided a good source of information and some occasional training to keep the basics going. And the best thing of it, it was cheap, the city was on its edge, and its soldier appreciated any kind of entertainment that they could get, a bard dancer and sword fencer was something new and enjoyable. I was not the only one there though, another man, a red haired northerner by the name of Skald played the balalaika and sang strong drinking songs between shoots.

When the second man entered the inn the bird croaked and looked at him. His eyes were looking for shiny stuff with curious innocence and his armor was really shiny. Once the new man sit down the raven opened its wings and jumped down from the shoulder that he was perked. He took a tiny leather bag with its beak and flew towards the stranger. It landed on its table and moved its head to look at him closely. Another light croak was all the bird did before it started... dancing, the raven moved over its small bird claws jumping from one to the other and spinning around.

After a few tumbles and cabrioles it lowered its head in a mute salute before graving the empty leather bag and showing it to the man.

Moritheil and Beowulf DW

Spoiler

Lexin · 05-31-2012, 02:24 PM

Annabel Zarathi

The conflict subsided. Annabel walks around the city looking for the place where she was supposed to meet others.

Many strong warriors died in this war. Many were given a good, befitting death and many died because of treachery. Here, hiding behind pathetic defenses live pathetic remnants of a great army. Women, children, elderly and cowards. So few remained of those worth any respect... a shame.

She finally finds the tavern. She stops for a moment...

At least the ones I will meet here should be worthy. I hope they won't disappoint me.

...and enters.
She looks around and notices a young man with gray hair.

Private room, was it?

She walks to the meeting place, noticing grey-haired young man and other, red haired with a raven on his shoulder. Her face show neither emotion nor recognition, but she gives both of them a slightest nod, like just to acknowledge their presence.

Others are here already

She orders water, eyeing the barman with her icy-blue eyes and takes a sit waiting for others to assemble.

moritheil · 05-31-2012, 02:31 PM

Ithandor:

Spoiler

Ithandor and Aer:

Spoiler

Ithandor:

Spoiler

Beowulf DW · 05-31-2012, 02:33 PM

Conner stares at the raven, then smiles when the raven shows him the leather bag.

"I take that you want something, my friend, but what do ravens dance for? Coin or corn?"

Aeryr · 05-31-2012, 02:58 PM

Aer the Raven

When the raven hears the words from Conner it tilts its head from one side to the other with a dubious expression.

-Corn, coin, corn, coin.- It caws the words, in its beak they almost sound the same, jumps from one leg to the other excited before graving once again the leather bag and moving it around.

Far away in the other table the raven master smiles slightly, the bird doesn't distinguish between food and shiny it loves both things equally. While he smiles he allows himself a glimpse to the female that entered the tavern a moment ago. It moved as a veteran fighter but graceful as a wild cat, it probably is an elf... She seemed to look for other people, so Aer let her be for now. He just moves his hand slightly towards his sword that rests against the table hold in its scabbard.

After a moment of considering it he takes the weapon and walks toward the little bird that dances in front of the armored stranger. He extends his hand and pets the animal, that is still repeating its dance. When the master touches its head the bird freezes and looks at Aer and flies, perking on its shoulder.

-Rev here will gladly take any corn you can spare, or if you can spare some coin he will trade it for corn. Won't you Rev?

With the last sentence Aer looks at the familiar in the eye, slightly scorning him till the bird nods.

Beowulf DW · 05-31-2012, 04:01 PM

Conner chuckles lightly, Haha, well, I'm afraid I don't have corn at the moment, but here's a couple of gold coins." Conner drops the gold into the leather pouch, then looks to the raven's owner.

"That's no ordinary raven. Something tells me the owner isn't so ordinary, either."

appending_doom · 05-31-2012, 04:32 PM

The woman that enters the Feathered Coque is disheveled, a little weary, and dressed in simple clothes, but there is the air of a more violent past about her. The maul, massive, slung over her back. The scars on her forearms, visible around light sleeves. The symbol of Wee Jas, no stranger to conflict, prominent on her breast.

She nods to the barman, familiar, before retreating briefly from the common room. When she appears a few minutes later, she is cleaner, in a new shirt, and watches her surroundings with a keener eye. She purchases a drink before drifting to the side of the small group.

Clean and close, she is now far more visible. Radiant red hair frames a serious, angular face that holds faint resemblance to popular depictions of her goddess. She watches the world through piercing blue eyes, and seems cool, although not unfriendly.

"Tell me, what is the purpose of this little gathering?" she inquires in a rough alto voice.

Oh My God · 05-31-2012, 05:48 PM

" Adventure, of course," says the man entering the private room from the backdoor, clearly returning from some sort of excursion to the privy. He is dressed in silks of an outlandish style, puffs of fabric bunched up at his shoulders and wrists. A weary looking peasant hurries in to the room after him, looking dazed and grubby. The first man continues, gesturing expansively with one hand as he says," If you are after -specifics- then I suppose you could say that we are, metaphorically, going to locate, explore, and God willing restore the Rightwise Temple of Nine Blades, what what."

" I think, that is," he says after a moments hesitation," unless I have the wrong shadowy back room. You sir, you are Cerran the Grey, are you not? And you, miss, are Oro de Wee? The famed knightress? I'm betting I'm in the correct room. Unless this is the damned oddest game of clabberwhats I've ever seen sat, eh what Squire Beans?".

After a moment of the eccentric purple haired fop clearing his throat, the exhausted looking peasant widens his eyes and says in a rough voice," Ah, er, ladies 'n germs, presenting der Imperious Grace, der notion'l king 'o Fehghawawa, Duke Clarence Wilberforce Wallenstein, Third Vissycount 'o Penistone, an' Defender 'or der Reasonably Well Off."

After the peasant finishes this, the fop smiles widely at the assembled. " Please, call me Imperious. Seems to flow better than the full thing when you folk say it. Now, then. I think we're almost all here?"

Beowulf DW · 05-31-2012, 06:08 PM

Conner sits up at the sound of some very outlandish speech.

"Well, Raven Master, I think there's something going on that room over there. Something I mean to be a part of."

Conner excuses himself with a slight bow and walks over to the source of the foppish speech.

appending_doom · 05-31-2012, 06:45 PM

"Knight," Oro corrects sternly. At Imperious' declaration of his belief of this gathering's purpose, though, she watches those around her with slightly more focus - it is almost certainly interest, knowing that they intend to resurrect a lost temple. "If this is a gathering of those seeking to rebuild the Temple of Nine Swords, I would stay. The Favored Scholar Kossa d'Wee commanded me to seek such a quest." She does not elaborate, but drifts closer to the group.

meemaas · 05-31-2012, 07:05 PM

Ran

The young Changeling stepped into the room. Today he had chosen to have brown hair, and brown eyes. He was little under six foot tall, with a spear strapped to his back that was larger than he was. He looked at the various familiar faces, each one a warrior he had fought in the past. None of them would recognize him, of course, for he had used a different name, and a different face when he had fought each of them. Of all those he was among, he knew he was the only one who had not made a name for himself, and for some reason, he was proud of that. "I believe i would be the last. If i held you up, i'd like to apologize, but really, i probably wouldn't mean it." Ran smiled, his smile only halfway sincere, he'd move over towards a wall near the table and lean, feeling his insides twisting a little while he did.

Oh My God · 05-31-2012, 11:16 PM

" Knight! Knight! Indeed! How precarious of me!", chimes Imperious in agreement. He grins like a maniac at Ran and Conner as they step in to the back room, and upon Ran's sincere insincerity he insists," Not at all, old sport, not at all. What's a little bit of tardiness among comrades in arms? Though.. should make sure there isn't anyone else waiting out in the wings."

With that, Imperious walks the several steps to the door to the tap-room, sticks his head out, and announces in a sanguine tone," Anyone else out here for the secret meeting about the quest? Anyone? Anyone? No?" And with that he turns on his heel, returns to one of the tables in the room and plunks himself down in the chair, luxuriating in its cushions. He starts patting himself down, clearly looking for something, and then after a moment very obviously forgets that he was doing so.

" Right then! Squire Beans, if you'll please go wait in the tap room, I believe we all have rather a lot of hush hush to discuss, I daresay, there's a good chappy." The peasant (the presumed Squire Beans) seems only too glad to be getting as far away as he can from the self-proclaimed Imperious, and out into the common room he goes. Once he's absent, and once those out in the tap room what have decided to come in do so, he suggests in his oddly accented voice," I know most of you by reputation, as you no doubt have heard of me, but I think it would be most conductive to our process, speed the wheel if you will, if we all went about and introduced ourselves. Maybe gave a little bit of a spiel on what they're able to bring to the Band of the Nine Blades, any thoughts they have about the enterprise on which we're about to undertake, that sort of thing."

Aeryr · 06-01-2012, 02:03 AM

Aer the Raven

Rev, the raven familiar took flight with the purse and went to the barman. After a few caws and bites it got himself a full bag of corn, almost heavier that it could lift with its beak. It rested there eating peacefully happy that he could enjoy such a great breakfast.

-If you feed him he is going to keep following you for days, doing his little bird dance. He loves corn and shiny things, so you are his favourite person right now. He might be a bit annoying when he is hungry but the rest of the time he is a great company to have around.

Aer was talking like a proud father of his familiar, it had been a long relationship, since he had made a pact to keep the small raven safe feed and sound in exchange for the bird's aid in his quest to knowledge.

-If there is something going on there let's go and see.

The Raven Master gets off the table and moves towards the meeting his step are really soft, almost like he can't hold the urges to dance. Aer poses himself against one of the walls of the room with his sword close and his ears open. Once Rev finishes gorging himself on its breakfast it flies toward the knighty woman and stands on her shoulder.

-Knight, Knight, Knight.

Aer throws a cold glare to the raven that shuts up and flights back to its master remaining quite while observing closely the people gathered there, wondering who has more shinies.

Moritheil

Spoiler

appending_doom · 06-01-2012, 05:01 AM

The knight steps forward at the invitation and gives the group an assessing glance; her lips twist to indicate she is not entirely pleased. "I am Oro d'Wee, the Ruby Knight and faithful servant of the Ruby Sorceress. I am called on my quest as a pilgrimage. My faith is my weapon, and the balm to soothe my comrades' wounds. Every strike I make brings comfort to my allies."

Lexin · 06-01-2012, 07:43 AM

Annabel hears the notion about the secret meeting... like everyone else in this tavern. She focuses on the purple-haired man who called himself Imperious. For the first time people surrounding her could see some slight emotion on her face, surprise.
...maybe it is another secret meeting... She thinks with hope but then others started to gather.

With a mental sight she stands up and goes to the private room. After she enters, she looks others in the eyes, one at the time, trying to judge if they are worthy.

After a moment she says, in quiet, emotionless voice, although loud enough so everyone can hear what she is saying.

"Annabel Zarathi, a warrior and a High Errun".

This explanation is obviously enough for her, she stands with her back to the wall and waits for other introductions.

Ithandor · 06-01-2012, 10:11 AM

Cerran the Grey

Well, so much for secret. Still, Cerran's eyes scanned the room. There was no doubt that the cadre here were seasoned warriors all. Something had brought them here. Somehow, he could see rumours starting from this fellow Imperious' proclamations.

Cerran rises from his seating, neatly replacing a bookmark in his tome and setting it down on the table. "A Treatise on the Rise and Fall of the Kingdoms of the East". He'd known the elven druid, Gallwyn, who had written the first edition of the book. His copy was, of course, a reprint; the original was several hundred years old. It read like it, too. Gallwyn should have stuck to summoning nature's wrath.

Addressing the room, Cerran introduces himself. "Cerran, sometimes 'the Grey', as his Grace here seems to know me - warrior, scholar, arcanist and student of the Lady of Mysteries - a pleasure to meet you all"

Beowulf DW · 06-01-2012, 10:42 AM

Conner looks toward Imperious, "Conducive. You said 'conductive to our process.' I think you meant 'conducive.' Oh, and I'm Conner, some call me the Iron Lotus when they think they're being clever. They're not."

Spoiler

moritheil · 06-01-2012, 04:23 PM

A hulking half-giant, eight feet tall and clad in full plate bearing the symbol of St. Cuthbert, steps into the tavern and peers about. Upon seeing the group of adventurers headed to a back room, he moves to follow you.

"Excuse me," he booms. "I bear a message for Cerran the Grey and his companions." His eyes scan the room, then focus on the book Cerran just put down. "Are you he?"

Cerran:

Spoiler

Aer:

Spoiler

Oro:

Spoiler

Ithandor · 06-01-2012, 07:38 PM

Cerran the Grey

"I am Cerran the Grey. What is your message, sir? And whom, may I ask, do you speak for?"

moritheil · 06-01-2012, 08:43 PM

"I am Luthor, priest of St. Cuthbert," the half-giant says simply, reaching for the thick wooden door and shutting it behind him. It isn't clear that this will cut off the sound of his booming voice, but perhaps it will muffle it somewhat.

"I bear a message from the Duke, who has heard some of the adventurers here were interested in setting out on a quest regarding the ancient Temple of Nine Swords." He slowly pulls out a sealed message tube and turns the end towards the group, showing everyone the official Seal of Antric imprinted in the wax. After displaying it, he offers it to Cerran.

"His Excellency asks you to undertake one last mission before you head off on your quest. In return you will be paid a total of 5,000 gold coins, given letters of safe passage through this and neighboring territories, given letters of marque entitling you to keep any treasure from bandits or goblins you defeat, and released from any ongoing mercenary contracts or army service obligations you may have. You will be given an audience with the Duke himself where he will entertain every question you have regarding this . . . Temple . . . he believes you are interested in. His Excellency wants me to make clear that he cannot promise the actual location of the ruins, but he can point you in the direction of reliable information, as well as the last known location of a few objects from the temple."

Luthor pauses, and at last remembers to lower his voice. "As an added bonus, the Duke knows the location of a legendary weapon, which should prove a powerful boon in your quest. It falls within his lands, and so it is legally his. If you do well on your mission for him, and this weapon interests you, he will give you the location and authorize you to retrieve it and take it with you, with the understanding that another item kept in the same place will be returned to him.

"Some of you are mercenaries. Before giving you the mission, which is sensitive, I personally would like to ask if you are willing to swear oaths to not bear arms against Antric in this generation." He looks at the High Erruni meaningfully. "Only for this generation, while the Duke reigns. I hope this will not be too limiting. The Duke does not ask for this, but my own conscience tells me that to release you from all other obligations and give such power into your hands should in fairness come with a guarantee it will not be used against him."

meemaas · 06-01-2012, 10:30 PM

Ran

Ran nods quietly, listening to the half-giant speak. He sees this as an opportunity to start their quest, and smiles, more than willing to accept the offer. He turns to Cerran, watching for his reaction though.

Beowulf DW · 06-01-2012, 10:34 PM

Conner seems somewhat put off.

"Temple? I thought we were looking for swords."

meemaas · 06-01-2012, 10:38 PM

Ran

"You obviously never paid any attention did you? The temple was where the Swords were made. The swords are the core, but the Temple is just as important." Ran spoke rather mockingly, a hint of disdain in his voice. Why should he have to deal with someone who did not recognize the importance of the Temple itself?

moritheil · 06-01-2012, 10:50 PM

Luthor looks from Conner to Ran and back, his expression unchanging. "If it is swords you care for, you may want this job. One of the relics the Duke has a last known location of is a sword that was kept at the Temple. That information is actually very recent."

meemaas · 06-01-2012, 10:53 PM

Ran

"I heard, i'm sure we all did. Except for him i guess. Maybe he just couldn't grasp the word Temple, and stopped paying attention."

Aeryr · 06-02-2012, 02:20 AM

Aer the Raven

That Imperious man was... strange in fact calling him a man might be a slight disregard to his obvious physique he was not a man. But Aer decided to go along the path that the eccentric marked.

-Aer, called the Raven, if there is going to be a story to tell and fight to take count me in.

The nine blades were not alien to the Raven, he had heard of them while he sword danced under the patronage of Cela, his purpose in fact could be the same, maybe that refounding was his objective. Maybe. Who knows? The way of the sword was a tricky path, a straight path but tricky none the less.

He listens to the name of his companions with interests, noting them down mentally. Annabel the High Errun, at first he had taken her for an elf, but she was not. Oro d'Wee follower of Wee Jas, and probably a combat medic, nice to have someone other than myself to patch me up. Cerran the Grey and a follower of Mystra, by the grace of Cela, how many deities of magic had interests in that small conclave. The next one to introduce himself, was Rev's friend, Conner the Iron Lotus, that might be a clever nickname.

A sound got to the ears of Aer interrupting his interests in the coterie his eyes follow his ears and looks at Luthor, recognizing him pretty fast for who he was. He seemed to have serious business to conduct with Cerran.

When the half giant reaches for the door Aer moves its shoulder so the raven takes places and flies to the common room perching itself in the ceiling, keeping an eye not only on the people there but also in the door, just in case.

5000 gold pieces, total, doesn't seem much, but that might not be the hook, at least not the hook that he was going to bit. He found much more interest in being able to get information directly from the duke. And of course, the letters of marque were really interesting.

-Sir Luthor I can swear to not bear arms against Antric, unless Antric raises arms against me. I might be able to avoid a conflict or two, but won't be able to survive a generation without wielding the sword if I were to fell from the grace of the Duke. I mention this because I am no oath breaker and I don't intend to make an oath that I cannot keep.

Antric was also a too general concept for my taste, I'll make sure to swear to not bear arms against the duke, nor Antric, didn't want to be unable to take my blade to any throat cutter wearing an Antric cloth. A sword, information about a sword, maybe that was indeed the path.

Mori

Spoiler