Strahd's "RttToEE" CLOSED

Strahd_Von_Zarovich · Aug 9, 2006

Second Starday, Coldeven. 8/3/600

Ahhh.. the beginning of the spring, just two weeks ago the free city dressed in holiday, celebrated Needfest with bonfires and sacrifices in the outskirts of town, but the sky darkened in the last two day, storm is brewing in the north west over Veluna, last night it thundered in the far horizon, above the Treacherous Ironwood, making her way to consume the visvounty and the southern Lortmills.
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You are summoned by a delegate of the Canon of Veluna, a bunch of noble counselors dressed in fine clothes, those arrogant bustards know only to drink wine and flatter to the Canon. They all came here to the Viscounty
A large brown oak table and match carved sits are placed in the center of a decorative hall, fine tapestries and paintings cover the walls, silverware are placed on the table, a large unlit fireplace, an enormous Chandelier hangs from the ceiling and other valuable antiques. The most impressive that you can spot is a large stone statue of a Knight, possibly a former ruler of the region.
2 guards stand on each side of the room, they are well dressed with decorative plate armors and holding glaives, two stands in the south doors, where you came from, and two others in the north finely carved wooden door.
Wine and fruits are served as you wait for your host.

Land Outcast · Aug 10, 2006

As he enters the Viscounty and lighting crosses the horizon, almost as if calling him...
Edirion smiles.
The weather at the horizon suited his mood... precious little things did of late
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The raven black-hair of the elf is unmoving... not as if it would move much, the pace of the elf is firm and calm. He doesn't even move his head to look at the silverware, the tapestries, or the paintings... some time ago he would have allowed himself to be delighted with such delicacy... but today he soberly took his seat.
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The emerald orbs of the elf scan the other persons at the table, more interested in who they were than in whatever the table sported.

The other elf at the table surprises him in a good manner, for altough he wears the trappings of an arcanist, there's a certain something which tells him off from him being the usual mage who stands nearer to fancy nobles than to warriors, or common people.

The dwarf, they've been told to be worthy in battle and smithing... that's got to be seen, as anything else.

The tall, olive-skinned man... looks like a warrior but is somehow absent in his eyes... has he been in any battle?

The gnome, completly alien to him... as brave as halflings? who knows...

The young human sitting in front of him, the most interesting... can stop moving, surely can't help it, they've got short lifespans after all... but the attitude is that of someone ready to action, not yet defined, but the body says more than do words...

No jesters... at least so it appears... not as bad as expected.

Of course, no comparison with the Dusk Riders can be traced

Kafkonia · Aug 10, 2006

Llewellyn casually peels an orange and drops the peel on the table beside him as he eats it slowly, one segment at a time. He watches the other elf eye him and the rest of the group.

"You have a slaver's eye," he says casually before popping the final piece of orange into his mouth.

Land Outcast · Aug 10, 2006

Sincerity is a form of respect

Edirion faces him directly now, showing his clouded eye, the one obviously damaged the same slash that caused a rather young vertical scar which goes from over the brow to under the eye... miraculously the eye remains almost intact, the bright green cluded by a white veil.

He blinks at the arcanist with his right eye... or is closing his eyes, it's hard to tell wether he can or can't close his left eye.

"The eye life gave me..."

Voadam · Aug 10, 2006

Miltiades drinks his wine meditatively, asking the server after its home vineyard and harvest year when the servant first pours. The olive skinned man radiates a calm relaxed aura as his eyes sweep over the hall. Those dark eyes seem to note many details, but it is as if every piece fits perfectly into a broad puzzle and is as it should be. Even the elves' verbal sparring.

Kafkonia · Aug 10, 2006

Llewellyn blinks for a moment, as though registering something he hadn't noticed before. "Forgive me," he says. "I spoke not of your scars, but of the way in which you weigh us with your sight." He plucks the orange peel from the table and places it in a small pouch which he returns to his side. "I assure you, I intended no disrespect."

Tonks · Aug 10, 2006

Lenuran placed a modest amount of food on his plate, more to satisfy the demands of etiquette than out of real hunger, but kept his journal underneath his seat in preparation for the meeting. The summons had brought Lenuran away from Lortmills, as well as a temporary retirement, but his mind raced with the possibilities of what could happen tonight.

Glancing around the room as he took a small sip of his wine, Lenuran listened briefly as the two elves discussed an aspect of one of the elves' eye, the young human male seemed content to enjoy his meal for the time being, and the dwarf was also keeping his distance from the others. The only one who seemed interested in talking to the others was the equally young man who must have been famished from his travels and attacked his plate with the gusto of a starved wolf. His antics brought an honest smile to Lenuran's face and the gnome nodded his head slightly in greeting when the young man caught Lenuran looking his way.

'Brought together yet we stay far apart. It will be interesting to see what the uniting force will be for them...'

Lowering his glass, Lenuran was content to sit back and observe the opening act of this play to record in his journal later.

stonegod · Aug 10, 2006

During the entire trip, the Kid was restless. He did not belong in the calvacade of nobility. He should be on the northern front, waiting for the next incursion of Old Wicked's constantly probing fingers. But, he had his orders. And orders were followed.

Usually.

~~~

The Kid's mouth went agape at all the finery the Canon displayed. Such wealth was the vibrant dream of a former guttersnape like him, and he was oblivious to most everything else for a while---until he saw the food. Then, with little grace, he plopped himself down and started in with a plate of---well, a little of everything.

He had finished his first plate when he noticed the others sitting around him. He blushed, knowing that his lack of manners would probably disgrace the Furyondy officers. Abashed, he sat back, beginning to twirl his father's dagger in his left hand. It was a constant twitch---he did it when nervous. Or hungry. Or anxious. Or, well, whenever he wasn't doing anything else.

Smiling his nervous but innocent smile, he softly says "heya" to the folks gathered around before twirling the dagger faster.

Land Outcast · Aug 10, 2006

"No offense taken, my "slaver's eye" was given to me by life" effective, but probably less dry than he wished his speech to be.

When the young human jumps all over the food, Edirion confirms his thought
Short lives: frantic

Directing himself at the others, uneasy being the one to lead, instead of saying
Given that our hosts have not arrived, I say we make good use of time
he stands from his seat, and states "Athas" while patting the pommel of a sheathed sword at his side, then he proceeds

"Edirion Redilameri" feels something is lacking... and adds"of the Dusk Riders"
that mention stings, even if it is only barely noticeable on the outside.

he takes seat again, expectant

Rhun · Aug 10, 2006

Korbryn downs a glass of wine in one quaff, a look of disappointment on his face. It surely didn't compare to the fine dwarven spirits he was used to drinking. The finery as well, was distasteful to him. Not the residence of a warrior, to be sure.

Stroking his long, blonde, braided beard with a callused hand, the armored dwarf turns his scarred face to give each of you an appraising look, as if sizing you up. At Edirion's introduction, he offers a curt nod.

"Greetings to yerself, elf." Pointing at the scars upon his face, the dwarf smiles. "Looks like we have something in common."