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After a few long days journey, or just a short walk from across the city, you all show up to Istarlingvilla, were you are quickly ushered into to the private study of Lord Istarling himself. The room itself is nearly square but longer than it is wide. Covering almost all the walls are book shelves, that are intermingled with magical armors and weapons, hanging from their displays, trophies of the noble houses past. As you enter you see your employer, Lord Istarling , standing in his exstinsive outfit of jewels and silks, though they looked heavy and dirty, which leads to the assumption that he was up all night. This is theory is helped by the fact that he is standing next to a table that has parchment, books, scattered atop it and long burned away candle still in their holders. Standing next to the lord of Waterdeep was an older gentleman wearing wrinkled robes of a spellcaster. His appearance was explained by the magical items on the table that a knowledgeable practitioner of the art would attribute to divinations, or ďspell-stalkingĒ spells. Nodding as you come in, Lord Istarling waits for everybody to get into the room before he speaks.
Welcome my friends, I am glad you made haste for time we have precious little of.
Gesturing to his the man standing next to him he went on to introduce him.
This is Mistmyr Iroan, a sorcerer of no small prestige, who has graciously decided to help an old friend.
As Lord Istarling paused in his speech, you look around and take a measure of your companions.
Standing close to the haggard looking lord, you are still close enough to the book shelf on the far wall and a window to make a quick escape. Looking just before the lord he saw again the stout dwarf and bald human, the dwarf obviously a hardened fighter, with a battle axe strapped to his back. The human though, radiated the power of a goodly priest, (which afforded him an ugly sneer from you when he glances your way) which was obviously the divine energies of Kossuth, from the leaping flames on his robes than from anything else. The figure in the back was the farthest away from the group, and also the most disguised, wearing her (yes you recognized her gender by her shapelyness) cowl so low you couldnít see any facial features, though from her stance and fluid motions in walking one could guess at her grace, which probably spoke of Elvin heritage. Behind the Goodly Priest and Fighter Dwarf stood a tall half-elf, who was dressed in roguish garb, with a short sword and bow strapped to him, and also wore what looked to be Elvin made chain mail shirt, that meshed like a second skin to the half-elf. But to your trained eyes you spot a lack of wear on the weapons and softness on his hands that bespoke of spellcasting more than weapon wielding. As Lord Istarling begins to speak again you turn your head his way.
As you were the first one to get there you see the respective parties come in, only the dwarf and priestly human come in speaking to each other, the other two just walked in quietly. The dwarf and human walk the closest to the Lord, only about a dagger toss away, as they stop near the table an Aasmir walks in, with the swagger of a spellcaster, smelling of burnt incense and bat guano. Even as the raven haired angel boy settled near a window a half-elf walked in with short sword strapped to belt and bow to back. Skipping over the fighters, (including the half-elf who you right off as a simple rogue) you study the known spell casters in the room. Spotting an arcane component pouch on the Aasmirís belt you file him as a Weave Taper. Your eyes fall on to the bald priest, who jumps out as a Cleric of Kossuth, with burning robes, making it painfully obvious his faith. As your eye falls on the final magic user in the room, the Lordís friend, Mistmyr Iroan, with the deep pockets in his wrinkled vestments, you spot two wands in his belt, and a scroll that leaked shadow essence down his side. Your eyes widen at this, but as the lord begins speaking you turn your attention back to him.
Walking in behind the dwarf and human, you know stand behind them. When the Lord pauses you look first behind you, taking in the feminine shaped person in the back of the room, but past her gender you can tell little. Though you do spot a hand crossbow hanging from her belt, surprised to see such an exotic weapon, you other wise think nothing of it. Turning back around you see the back of the humanís bald head, and the back of his glimmering cloak, sheathed in embroiled flames, identifying him as a Priest of Kossuth. Dropping you gaze and to the left you saw the stout dwarf, whoís notched axe, and itís worn handle spoke volumes of the bearded fellows prowess with the blade. Lastly your eyes spot the Celestial Son, who wore no armor, but a pouch bulging with spell components, correctly identifying him as some sort of spell slinger, though probably that of an arcane type. You feel an immediate connection between you and him, for only the simple fact that you are both separated by your cross parentage, both different in social backgrounds that some times clashed in real life terms. As your eyes slide back up to Lord Istarling when he started speaking again you spot the title of a book and the subject matter of some parchment on the table. It read ďThe Plane of Shadow: Mysterious DarknessĒ.
Walking in nearly the same time as the human cleric, he strikes up a conversation, speaking of his church (Kossuth) and his goals in life, as well as their mutual hope to help the desperate lord. As the lord pauses you look around the room at the guest you hadnít been able to see earlier, or just didnít have time to check over. Spotting the shadowy figure in the back, you recognize her gender by her sway, but the only other thing of interest you spot is that her hair was stark white. Giving a hrmph, you turn, eyes sliding over the roguish looking half-elf with a bow on his back and sword on his hip. ElvesÖ Turning a complete circuit you come to see a plane touched fellow settled in back by the closest window. Smirking with the confidence of a spell caster the dwarf slid his eyes away from the troublesome looking character and back to the now speaking Lord of Waterdeep.
Finding good conversation with the dwarf next to you, you donít find the time to gage your companions until the Lordís pause. When you look to the Plane Touched, son of an angel, who was at the moment giving you a very unhealthy sneer, you see his obvious lack of armor, and pocket of scrolls as the sign of a magic user though you canít tell if he is divine or arcane in nature. Turning from him your eyes flick over the dwarf you have been talking to for awhile know. He was obviously use to the axe strapped to his back, which was clear by the calluses on the rough hands on the end of his strong arms. Turning back your first see a tall half-elf, who had a stack of physical weapons, but what you pick up on is his divine prowess, which seems obvious to you as a fellow cleric yourself. Though he clearly follows different ideals than you he still held similar values. After taking in the sight of him you glance to the back, seeing the hidden figure. At first nothing other than her want to stay unknown was amiss, but as you look harder you see a flash of white hair, dark skin, and a all to tell-tale hand crossbow hanging from her belt. Suppressing your unease and anger, you donít release the purifying fire of your god on this she drow, but merely turn back to Lord Istarling as he speaks again.
Yes well, I wish to hurry; all that you must know is that my dear wife was taken from me late two days ago. The captors showed to be dark elves of a sort, who leaked shadow, the trio grabbed my dear, and took off losing themselves to magic. This is why I have asked my friend here to help use deduce their way of travel. Mistmyr, if you would enlighten them.
Sharply looking at Lord Istarling, as if shocked to be asked to do such a thing, Iroan the Socerer looked the group clearly uncomfortable. He was surely scared to speak in such a public place, even with such a small public.
YesÖ well, through my magical means, I have deduced that the drow, yes drow, captors used a fairly complex spell, known as a plane shift. Which shifted a person or persons from one plane to another, in this case the material plane to what we beli- well, I believe to be the shadow plane, from there I can not be certain were they headed.
Bowing back, Mistmyr let the Lord take the lead again.
Thank you, Mistmyr. Well, I have a guide by the name of Canumbrax, who knows his way around the shadow plane. I do not know much of him, but his reputation is good, and his is the best I could find in such short time. My price is 4,000 gold each for the safe return of my beloved wife, 2,000 gold each if Ėgodís forbid- you return with her body and a promise that her vengeance was earned. Now before we go please introduce yourself, if you donít already know each other, and donít forget to show your face when you do. When you are finished meet Mystmyr and I outside.
With this he nods to each in turn, and walks outside with the Sorcerer in tow.
A heavy, resigned sigh issues from the cloaked figure, who slowly and with obvious reluctance draws the hood away from her dark face ... but not before positioning herself near the exit as a precaution.
"I'm not one of the kidnappers," she explains quickly, hands raised as if in a show of surrender, palms spread and held flat toward them, to show that she holds no weapons. "Just an interested party, much like the rest of you."
Her eyes shift to Pheiros, the one person she recognizes, in an unspoken request for help.
Last edited by Nowhere Girl : 11-05-2007 at 12:50 AM.
"Oh hello, Naenre," Pheiros says jovially, "I should have recognized you. It is good to know you are part of this quest!"
Pheiros turns to everyone else, "Hello, I am Pheiros Solseeker, a 'researcher' for the church of Oghma. I track down hard to find information and untangle sticky situations... and this looks like a particularly sticky one. I thank his Lordship for giving me another chance to meet his charming wife."
Noticing that everyone was still staring at Naenre as he spoke, Pheiros turns to the rogue and gives her a deep bow, "Naenre, I still am in your debt for saving my young friend's life and livelihood. He's a good-hearted lad, but never could have stood up to that gang of thugs without your assistance. You'll be an invaluable ally in tracking down these kidnappers." As he bowed, Pheiros had given Naenre a hidden smile, as if laughing at his own bow.
Turning around to run an eye over the people left in the room he snorts and raises an eyebrow at Naenre before shaking his head and pulling of his helm to show his face.
Elves, Half-Elves, and bloody magic users a plenty, but nobody who looked like they could swing a sword in a stand up fight.
"Name's Dominus Axeshield, and I'm doing this out of respect for his Lordship. Which means that despite any differences that may arise, or any personal problems that may come up, we work together on this. At least until his wife is safe."
His piece said, he slides his helm back over his face.
High Ref and Recruiter for the PvP Arena.
Loft nods to Pheiros, one of the very few in the room that he might enjoy speaking with. He quickly scans the other people that entered the room just a moment ago. A priest, a dwarf, and a drow. Of no small coincidence, the dwarf is speaking to the priest, which a terrible first impression for Loft. He smirks, and thusly winks at the drow, overconfident in his own charisma. He averts his eyes to Mistmyr's books and searches for evidence regarding the Shadow Plane. He doesn't give his name, because he thinks the priest might know of his paladin parents.
__________________ Avatar by Threeshades!
- Hey, now, let's keep things professional. I'm not one of those disgusting biophiliacs.
one thing commoners do well is work and build stuff. - the_tick_rules
It's just RP, and you probably have some components, seeing as some spells components cost more than 1 gp. It's not like haveing them know your a spell caster is gona hurt, you about to tell them anyways. Oh and your introducing yourself right know, the sorcerer and lord walked out, after the introductions you will have a chance to ask your questions.
Balthamore grins broadly (if somewhat forced) and loudly announces
Greetings in the name of the Firelord. My name is Balthamore Brightspark, though friends call me Balth.
Looking over the group he locks eyes with each for a second
I'm a man of plain words and actions, so I'll just say this upfront. Some of you are not what I would expect as travelling companions.
His eyes inadvertantly twitch towards Nanre
However what is important here is the mission. The lady needs our help and if we do not work together not only will we fail, but we may end up dead ourselves. So I swear to each of you by the Sacred Embers that I will treat each here as friend and will protect, heal and defend you all until our mission is complete
I think it is vital for the smooth running of the party that we have clear communication and teamwork, and that requires a leader. Since we don't know each other well choosing such is hard, and would hardly ask you to follow me, but it must be someone, so I elect Phairos
He holds his hands out to either side and you flames dance along one hand, and a soft white glow illuminate the other.
In battle I am gifted with both flames to smite and special gifts of healing. By Kossuth's grace I can heal you more than most of my rank. I fear not the heat of battle, so if you are wounded and in need of aid call and I shall heal thee. Otherwise i will stay on the edge of conflict and call on the Flames of Kossuth to smite our foes. I also have spells to silence or dispel enemy spellcasters, and will make neutralizing them my first priority unless someone is more adept than myself at such things
Naenre actually smiles at Pheiros's response to her and relaxes visibly, pushing up the dark lenses that hide her magenta eyes. She listens quietly as the others speak, acknowledging Loft's flirtation with a coy smile that may or may not be genuine.
She reacts with mixed emotions as the topic turns to electing a leader. The idea of following anyone's orders is less than appealing to her, even somewhat less so those of a male. On the other hand, she realizes, if this group feels there must be a leader, she certainly won't be chosen, and of the others, Pheiros is by far the most advantageous choice for her.
"I suppose I also vote for Pheiros," she puts in after a moment.
Last edited by Nowhere Girl : 11-05-2007 at 12:50 AM.
Pheiros raised his eyebrows in surprise when Balthamore brought up the subject of leadership, HIS leadership. He was even more surprised when the others agreed so quickly. Pheiros enjoyed working on teams, but wasn't exactly the order giving type.
"I'm not exactly the order giving type, " the half-elf begins, " and I have to admit that this... honor comes as a bit of a surprise."
Pheiros pauses for a moment, considering his words, "However, if Sir Dominus also agrees, then I promise to do my best to keep us on track after the Lady's kidnappers. On one condition though, that we each agree to take the lead where we're most capable. I've certainly seen my share of mix-ups, but I doubt I have the battle knowledge of our ironclad dwarven friend. And though I speak the language, I doubt I have a fraction of Naenre's understanding of the drow... or your fiery might Balthamore, or your arcane knowledge Loft. I certainly doubt I can see as far in the dark as half of you!"
"In the meanwhile, much can be learned at the beginning of a trail, and I am curious as to why someone would wish to grab the Lady."
Nodding at each other in turn some people begin to walk out, others stay behind to view the papers and books on the table. The sun alights across the room, highlighting particales of dust that float through the air, showing that the hour was growing past noon; you apointed time of arival, and closer to the fifth your after the suns zenth.
Before leaving the room both you and the half-elf wander up to the table, you both exchange a polite greating, but you and him both seem more intrested in the books, parchment and spell components. You see a old and dark bound book (the leather might have been that of a shadow dragon), which seemed to leak shadow stuff. The parchment is written in a form of local cholaothan, which you don't understand past it's origon. After looking over the papers and finding only a few papers on drow, telling you nothign you didn't know already. Turning away from the table, you walk out with the rest of the group. Into a side room of the grand chamber of the Isrtarlingvilla.
You walk up, and are followed by the semi-sulking aasmir. Glancing over the magical equipment, it follows the path of divination, and most leading towards following teleportation magic. You learn also that the attacking drow had, either magically manifested or natural claws. Learning no more from the scatterd parchement you follow Loft outside.
You wait as the dwarf, Dominus, and the bald cleric, Balth, head out together before walking out in front of the two who lag behind to look over the table filled with papers. As you walk out you spot the pair standing in front of Mistmyr, who is holding the shadow leaking script.
After the introductions and organization of party, you and your newly aquinted dwarf friend walk out together first, and you subconciously catch yourself glancing at the shedrow, feeling a hint of distrust slide onto your face, though your quickly push it away. For the sake of your new team you must come to trust the people around you. Coming into the side room of the grand hall, you see the sorcerer standing in the middle with a look of concentration masking his features.
As you turn with the human at your side, you walk past the drow with an open glare on you face. You realized the benfit of having such a.. creature on your side, but it stills felt uncomfortable. Putting the thoughts aside you walk into the open side room of the Istarlingvilla.
As you enter, you the side room to the Grand Hall of the villa, you see the sorcerer holding a piece of old script that leaked shadow essence. Some of you recognise it as a scroll, others don't. Lost in concentration the old spellslinger doesn't look up for a long time. The Power in the room maginifies, and no one dares to speak. Finally as the room seems to lose it's color and the lights dim, even the sun it's self seems less bright, he looks up, relaxing and goes into what sounds to be a practiced speech.
Ah, welcome. The lord had to attend to other pressing matters around the very unwelcome event. I shall shortly be transfering use to the plane of shadow, were we have our hired tracker already waiting, he says that he has found the trail of the kidnappers, which is no small feat seeing as it was left nearly two days ago.
Though you all seem to notice that a worry line crosses his old face at the menchen of the mercanary. He spots the looks you all give and waves his hand in a dismissive matter.
Oh, I trust him, it's just in the press of time I was not given what I would call "ataquite time" to research him, but from what I've hear he is very good. And a specalist in shadow plane walking and tracking, the only we could find, though. Anyways, using a spell I will transfer us to the shadow plane, and then sadly I must leave you in search of more information on the subject matter. In which case I will inform you via spell of anything important. I also have a feeling he is with holding information on the drow themself, at their description he went sullen, and refused to take the task of rescuing the Lord's wife himself, though I know for a fact that the little half-breed has a contingency of soldiers at his desposal,
Seeing the glares given to him by Pheros and Loft at the half-breed coment. Again waving his hand dismissvily he continues.
Well, he's a different kind of half-breed. Anyways, you may ask him about what he knows now that he isn't going. It will probably be helpful. But alas our time has come to depart, any last minute questions or request for supplies before I wisk us away?
"We're positive they took her to the plane of shadow?" Naenre puts in, frowning. "I would have expected them to take her as a slave or as a sacrifice to Lloth, but the plane of shadow? ... unless they're using it to travel to another location somehow, perhaps."
Addressing Bathamore, she adds pointedly, "This may not be a good thing at all. If they just took her to an Underdark city as a slave, I could likely enter safely, looking like just another commoner, and simply buy her back. It seems this twist might complicate things."
((OOC: I forgot to claim a color. I hearby claim the color of my character's eyes -- magenta! xD))
Last edited by Nowhere Girl : 11-05-2007 at 12:51 AM.
I'm afraid not celestial son, if you were to touch that book you would be turned into a husk of dried out angel, maybe if you were part devil...
Shaking his head he turns to the Shedrow.
Yes we are postive, we found their tracks there, so unless they have somthing else... besides my own spell work led us to that conclusion to begin with. As to your second question, if it was a mater of gold changing hands then it would already happened. Your guide and I are fairly certain the trip ends in a small drow city by the name of Karsoluthiyl, which is a city folowing the normal function of a drow city, being run by Lolth, but the thing about the house that supposedly captured our Lady, is somthing less than devote worshipers. One might even say they kinda ran with the male of the family.
((00C->this takes place before the death of vhauren obviously.))
Yes, well I doubt very much that the Lolth worshipers know of the worship of the other god. We also doubt it is the entire city who went after our dear Lady, just one house. As for Canumbrax description, he declined that he recognised anything unusual abou the abductors, but his stand-offish behavior is different than his reputation suggest, when we go to meet him you may ask him yourself, just don't say I suspected otherwise.
As Mistmyr finishes he starts tapping his foot impatiently so as to put the ergency into effect.
We really must hurry, if you have need of final food suplies, or information make it quick. House sevants will fetch you what you want. My spell will only last for ten hours so you must make it a quick march to the city, which is an swift eight hour march. Once their the spell will were off and you will be placed back into the materail plane, Canumbrax has insured me that he knows a way back to the city of splenders once you have completed the task, again through the plane of shadow. Again Canumbrax knows the city and has said that he will try to help when he may. Lets do try to hurry, I must attend a meeting with Lord Istarling of this matter, and other precautions must be taken on the house.
The spell were wear off with time, so getting there faster doesn't matter, it only matters that we start as soon as possiable, as soon as you get there you should have no trouble getting there in the ten hour deration of the spell.
Foot tapping faster he starts to stare holes into the group.
"It matters if I have to walk nonstop for eight hours," the drow mutters darkly, mostly under her breath. Then her eyes narrow suspiciously, and she looks back up at Mistmyr, more carefully than before. "Why is it so urgent that we leave quickly, yet unimportant how quickly we can then proceed to our destination?"
Active Sense Motive check to try to get a "hunch" about Mistmyr: (1d20+8)
... and that won't do it. Oh well. If he's really lying about anything, maybe he'll still lose on his opposed Bluff. He probably isn't, though. Psh. Paranoid drow.
Last edited by Nowhere Girl : 11-06-2007 at 12:58 AM.
Well, no matter how fast you get there in the shadow plane you still have to wait until the ten yours are up, seeing as I won't be there to dismiss the spell. So even if you take horses, and you get there in four hours, you'll have to wait another six until the spell's duratioin disapates. Yes, well, are there any other questions about the plane of shadow, the drow, or the like?
Pheiros watches the sorcerer carefully, also trying to sense if the man was holding anything back (Sense Motive +7). But then Pheiros shrugs. He didn't like being rushed on a job, but was ready to move on to where he could get more information.
"Yes, we should be on our way soon. We could use a few days of travel rations though, and if you have anything that could help us carry the Lady... in case she is unable to walk and we need to make a quick exit." (Diplomacy +8)
Pheiros decided to try one more time to get a description out of the sorcerer, not sure if the sorcerer was just stressed, absent-minded, or actually dodging his questions, "While we wait, what did these drow look like again? Any idea why this family would want the lady?"
The drow were obviously magicaly asisted, but other than there afinity for claws, we have nothing else to go by. We assume the Lady wasn't a worshiper of Lolth and there for wouldnt be a prudent sacrifice, so we are still not quiet sure what they want with her. No ransom has been set and as far as we can tell there won't be one, hence the rescue team.As for somthing such as a strecher, you'll have to make do we do not have one readly available and you would be semi-bulky to carry, you would probably benifit more for one made on the field, as to any we can provide in the short time given.
Snapping his fingers, a spark of magic leaps from his hand and three days trail rations apear on the floor before you. Seeing it you aproach and seperate it neatly giving everybody their share, as far as you can tell it hasnt been contamanated in any way.
If that's that, then we must be off. On your nods.
"Don't be so certain about her not being a sacrifice were she to fall into the hands of Llothites," Naenre warns. "Surface elves in particular are sacrificed monthly, and those of other races are hardly safe. We can assume she won't sacrificed to Lloth in this case simply because those who captured her can't be devoted to the Spider Queen -- not if they allow their males to lead them."
She shakes her head and sighs, appearing somewhat less than pleased. "But that only means that we have no idea what they're planning to do with her." Wondering whether she's going to end up regretting going along with this, Naenre finally nods. "Fine. I'm ready, I suppose."
Last edited by Nowhere Girl : 11-06-2007 at 04:42 PM.