Where to Next?
The party returned to the keep from the temple of Desri with Braddok in tow. Introductions were made and Haelan attempted to give the warrior an overview of their adventures since he'd "been gone."
Braddok listened patiently and attentively. Some things he recalled...or pieces of things. Others were completely "new" to his ears.
When arriving at the mammoth towered keep of the Dragonmage and their lavish suite of chambers, the swordsman asked, "And you...we...live here!?"
"Oh no no. We're just guests for the time being....until we got you back, actually, I guess." Haelan, who had been doing most of the talking, as per usual.
The man had been clothed in a plain grey robe by the temple. Upon their return, Alaria suggested they all get a good rest during what remained of the night. She roused the young manservant, Quip, and asked that he find Braddok some suitable attire. "Breeches and proper traveling boots. A smart shirt or tunic." Quip nodded his understanding through sleep filled eyes and went on his errand.
"And we can go shopping for some new armor for you tomorrow too, if you want!" Haelan proposed enthusiastically.
"Yes." Braddok replied after a pause. "Some armor sounds...right...would make me feel more...myself."
"We'll go with yeh, Braddok." Duor interjected, indicating himself and Coerraine. "Need to stock up anyway if we're huntin' fer dragon treasure." the dwarf smiled broadly at the idea of piles of riches.
"Dragon treasure?!" Braddok said surprised.
"Tomorrow, Duor. We will discuss our options tomorrow. For now, Braddok, I think it best we listen to the Shaalir and get you some rest." Alaria interrupted before any of the other companions could launch into the tales of what might or might not be contained in the treacherous swamps of the Feldmere.
"I think I'd like to stay up for a while, my lady...erm...Alaria. I've been 'resting' for some time, it seems." Braddok grinned weakly at the lovely wizardess.
"Well," Haelan began with a yawn, "I am happy to keep you company and continue to jog your memory...as long as I can. It is rather late for us." the daelvar priest smiled at his returned friend. "Oh! And we have this!"
The priest went behind one of the large comfortable chairs near the burning fireplace and returned dragging the large triangular shaped shield emblazoned with the black fork-tailed bird.
Braddok's mind swam with dream-like hazy memories of the image he'd seen in the Underworld. The fork-tailed bird....swallowtail!....swallowtail hawk...."Yes! This is the swallowtail hawk! It is the coat of arms of my family!...My family in Denil!" Braddok burst, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.
Haelan smiled broadly. "I'd hoped you'd like it. I think the smith at Bridgetower did a very fine job."
"Yeah. We had it refurbished fer yer expected return." said Duor, stepping up beside the halfling.
"We?!" Haelan protested. But he let it drop. Braddok was back, that was what was important...he mentally apologized to Faerantha for his "pride".
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll let you all catch up." yawned the satyr with a long stretch of his arms. "Was nice to meet you, Braddok. I'll see you all in the morning."
"Thank you...em....friend satyr. Good night to you." Braddok replied. He found couldn't recall the satyr's name...nor anything else about him other than being introduced as the company's newest addition.
"I too require some rest." Alaria stated. "I feel tomorrow may be another long day and we've much to discuss and decide. I will take my leave of you, gentlefolk."
The companions all said their good nights to the magess. Coerraine and Braddok both rose from their chairs as the wizard took her leave.
Braddok questioned his instinctive action, but figured since the paladin had done it, it must have been the right thing to do.
The rest of the men stayed up talking with Braddok for another hour or so. At one point, as Duor was regaling him with his stunning victory against the ogre at Bridgetower, Braddok's stomach made a loud rumbling. The warrior excused himself to his friends and then realized that he was quite hungry.
This, of course, prompted Haelan to grab his new "gift" from the Dragonmage and asked Braddok what he would like to eat? The warrior had no response other than, "Umm....I don't actually know. What do I like?"
"I know! You haven't had any of the Wyvern's Wing mutton pasty before. You'll love it!" without waiting for a response, the halfling touched the pestle/spoon to the side of the bowl and said, "Mutton Pasty from the Wyvern's Wing inn." He then handed the bowl over to Braddok.
To the swordsman's amazement, the bowl was filled with pastry pockets filled with the spiced meat and onions. The odor of fresh baked pastries filled the chamber. Braddok sniffed in deeply and smiled. Yes, he definitely liked that smell.
Duor and Haelan each took one when the bowl continued to supply the things. the three ate hungrily and talked and laughed a bit. Braddok found himself feeling comfortable with these fellows, who apparently had been his "friends." He enjoyed the "new" feelings of comradery very much.
After a while more the swordsman, having finished all of the food the bowl had to offer, had to admit he was in fact actually tired.
The companions all retired even as the sky was taking on its pre-dawn rosy hue.
Braddok laid on the comfortable bed and stared at the ceiling with his hands crossed on his chest. Despite being tired, his eyes did not close at all. He was feeling...something...something that made him not want to close his eyes. A cold feeling. He shivered at the unpleasant sensation.
He laid there for a couple of hours, the satyr and halfling were deep in slumber. He waited when he heard others of the companions rise in the outer chamber. Then he rose to meet them...still tired.
The following day, once everyone had risen, the companions were visited by a black bearded gnome in bright and mismatched blue and yellow striped leggings and a green tunic with orange polka-dots. His feet were contained, somewhere, within the bright blue ankle-height shoes with the gnomish style curled up toes...that rose practically to the height of the gnome's knees.
Haelan was thoroughly perplexed how the gnome made the seemingly soft fabric shoes curl up to such a height and stay there. Gnomish magic, the daelvar presumed.
Perhaps the most shocking part of the outfit was the floppy broadly-brimmed hat the gnome wore. It was nearly as wide across as the gnome was tall of bright pink felt with a large green feather that "matched" his tunic.
He was introduced by the still sleepy looking boy, Quip, as "the Vale's finest tailor, Gnormelligent Quickstitch."
"But ye's can call me Gnorm." the black bearded gnome winked. From around his waist, he withdrew a long ribbon, that seemed to have circled the gnome three times over. He placed the small step-stool he'd brought along and took measurements for Braddok.
"Something in charteuse stars I think would be lovely on such broad shoulders. OO! Or I have a fresh bolt of some lovely pink and orange striped Thelitian silk I got from a trader last month. Can't go wrong with Thelitian silk, me mudma always said." Gnorm suggested, in an attempt to be helpful. <author/DM's note: 1)"mudma", if not obvious, is the gnomish iteration of "mother"...gnomes finding all things related to the earth, including mud, as highly important/venerated. 2) The Orean Gnomish sense of fashion is something of an...acquired taste for anyone but gnomes. >
Braddok looked with some worry to Alaria who had been watching the tailor do his work.
"Something in a pale blue, I think, would be more fitting." Alaria offered to the tailor. "Plain pale blue. Something durable...for travel. Perhaps with the black swallowtail hawk on the chest?" Seeing Braddok smile in thanks and approval, Alaria confirmed. "Yes, with the hawk on the chest. You can duplicate something like this?" She asked the gnome indicating the symbol on the shield.
"My dear, Magess, I am Gnormelligent of Daenfrii. I can duplicate anything...as long as it's fabric. hahahaheeheeee." the tailor replied with a smile and chuckle.
The similarity of the tailor's laugh to Gnobert's was...a bit unnerving.
"But very good. Yeer the customer an' the customer's always tight....er...right. heehee." the gnome smiled and winked. "A blue tunic with a black swallowtail hawk it shall be." the gnome finished and re-wrapped the ribbon-tape measure about his waist.
"Should be ready before six bells. Will you be picking it up or shall I have it sent? Only 2 silver more fer deliv'ry." he asked as he absently scribbled notes and numbers onto a small pad he'd produced from some unseen pocket.
"We'll pick it up. Have to go into town for some armor, anyway." Coerraine offered for the swordsman.
"Very good, my lords. I bid ye, all, a good day." he made a flourishing bow with his broad-brimmed hat before exiting.
As the gnome took his leave, Fen returned and behind him the giant ferret, Buttercreamshadowfeet.
Braddok looked at the half-elf and his eyes bulged open. "You! You're the druid who had my back!" Braddok again burst with satisfied surprise before taking the druid in a big bear hug. "My thanks to you, my brother-in-arms. I bare you no ill will for my untimely fate. The battle was hard won, from what I am told."
"B-Braddok!?" Fen managed to get out before the large man hugged him. "Uh...um...yes. Welcome back. I am pleased to see you...uh...well." he looked over Braddok's shoulder at Alaria and Erevan with a look that said, quite clearly, "what's this all about?"
When the swordsman released the druid, Fen said to the collected heroes with a charming smile, "Seems it worked then?"
"Well, mostly." Erevan replied before explaining Braddok's lapses of memory quickly in the elvin tongue.
"Ahhhhh. That's it then." Fen turned to Braddok, still smiling charmingly.
"And you found Buttercream!" Haelan cried and hugged the fluffy neck of the ferret which made small squeaking noises in admiration and nuzzled the daaelvar priest.
"We have a ferret named 'Buttercream'?" Braddok questioned the others with some disbelief.
"We didn't name her." Alaria replied simply and smiled back at the warrior. "But she's ours now. Or, well, more accurately Fen and Haelan's."
Their company complete, all of the companions noticeably relaxed in each others' company as the servants, Rik and Quip, entered with trays of food for the company's lunch.
Everyone ate and drank casually and discussion of their next move began.
"Seems a no brainer." Duor spoke up through the long drawls of ale from his mug. "We got Braddok back. The Iser Pale is in safe keeping. Adventure and dragon fortune awaits!"
"Ihs Repahl." Erevan corrected. "It's called the Ihs Repahl. And do we truly mean to leave it here, Alaria? Beyond that, I say we head to my homeland and aid in the defense against the goblin army incursion. That is, no doubt, where we will find Treesahd and could put an end to his wickedness." The elf finished and sipped calmly on his goblet of elfvine. The elf felt himself with an uncharacteristic burning to battle again with the dark wizard and give him "what for."
"Well...I mean...do we have to, Erevan? He wanted the orb and we don't have it anymore. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. tresahd will probably want nothing to do with us again." Haelan interjected.
"'Cept kill us all, of course." Duor muttered under his beard. "To the Feldmere and fame and fortune, I say."
The idea of meeting the wizard, who had very nearly slain several of them including Haelan, was not something the halfling Hilltender looked forward to. Festus concurred with Duor and Haelan.
Even Coerraine had to admit, the prospect of eliminating the evil of the dark wizard aside, they did not seem in a position to take him on with any hopeful chances of success. But in time...the Redstar, again to himself, shared Erevan's desire for a "rematch." His own feelings, ultimately, meant nothing. He was duty bound to go wherever the dwarf decided...the young Goldshield just hoped the rest of the party would agree and be with them.
Alaria proposed the idea of "wintering in the Vale." She was not in any rush to leave this intensely magical place. There was much here, she was sure, to be learned. "....and with the snows expected in no more than a month, according to Captain Rynthis, would it be wise to find ourselves in a quickly freezing swamp?"
"We could...I...I should...return to my homeland. I have much to do there." Braddok offered cautiously. The swordsman silently admitted, however, he did have a debt of honor to be repaid to this curious company...his former friends...who had gone to the trouble of raising him from the dead! If he were to retake his ancestral lands, he would do it with honor. Memories or not, his sense of honor was not impaired...if anything, it seemed more intense....more focused.
"But, whatever the group decides. I swear, my blade is yours as long as I continue to draw breath." Braddok added. His gaze had fallen, decidedly, on Alaria when he said "yours." Then chuckled to himself before saying, "And even beyond it seems."
Several of the companions chuckled at the jest.
Alaria smiled and nodded. The humor was good. It seemed, to her, Braddok was more like his "former" self. She hoped such attributes would continue to surface and grow...into the man she knew, yet had barely bothered to "know."
"Fen?" Haelan asked the druid.
The half-elf just shrugged as he bit into a large round red apple. "Whatever you all decide. My order has given me no indication where to go from here. Simply to protect the orb. That seems to be done, as far as I'm concerned."
"A vote it is to be then?" Festus said. In aside to Alaria, the satyr leered, "I get a vote now, don't I? I am a member of the company now."
"Of course, Festus." Alaria confirmed, though she was careful not to meet the satyr's gaze.
To stay in the Vale for the winter, there was only Alaria and Haelan.
That not winning, Alaria placed her next vote for Miralosta along with Fen, and Erevan.
Festus, reveling in his newfound freedom, was anxious to get somewhere out of Daenfrii or the neighboring elvin realm with which he was somewhat acquainted. Between himself, Duor and Coerraine's "forced" vote with whatever the dwarf decided and, to everyone's surprise, Haelan, the decision was made.
"Well, if we're not going to be safe here, we might as well not be safe somewhere Tresahd is not!" the daelvar defended his vote.
They would supply themselves and prepare to make for the Feldmere.
Alaria proposed they remain for a week's time, to gather whatever information they could and give Braddok some time to really "get back on his feet."
Everyone agreed to that.
"AlRIGHT! Dragon treasure hunting wins the day! C'mon Goldilocks. C'mon Braddok. We have some armor and supplies to buy. Leave the brainy types to the research department. Festus, you want to come too? We'll see you lot later." Duor hopped up from his seat, thoroughly satisfied at getting "his" way.
The two human warriors, the dwarf rogue and satyr ranger left for the town (which apparently had no name other than "the Vale" or "Dragonwing Vale").
Alaria, Erevan, Haelan and Fen began discussion of how to go about their researching. Alaria would meet with the archivist Felton at his first convenience. She and Erevan hoped to be able to access the Keep's library or perhaps the temple of Manat, below the actual keep. Haelan said he would consult with the local priestesses of Gilea and perhaps other temples to see what materials they might have. Fen agreed to accompany Haelan, though, himself, had little interest in research and would probably end up wandering the town or surrounding farmlands to see what rumors or myths the local populace might have.
Five days later, the day of Darkveil Night (Braddok's deadline for returning from the Netherworld) the party was entirely prepared to leave the Vale of the Dragonmage.
The party returned to the keep from the temple of Desri with Braddok in tow. Introductions were made and Haelan attempted to give the warrior an overview of their adventures since he'd "been gone."
Braddok listened patiently and attentively. Some things he recalled...or pieces of things. Others were completely "new" to his ears.
When arriving at the mammoth towered keep of the Dragonmage and their lavish suite of chambers, the swordsman asked, "And you...we...live here!?"
"Oh no no. We're just guests for the time being....until we got you back, actually, I guess." Haelan, who had been doing most of the talking, as per usual.
The man had been clothed in a plain grey robe by the temple. Upon their return, Alaria suggested they all get a good rest during what remained of the night. She roused the young manservant, Quip, and asked that he find Braddok some suitable attire. "Breeches and proper traveling boots. A smart shirt or tunic." Quip nodded his understanding through sleep filled eyes and went on his errand.
"And we can go shopping for some new armor for you tomorrow too, if you want!" Haelan proposed enthusiastically.
"Yes." Braddok replied after a pause. "Some armor sounds...right...would make me feel more...myself."
"We'll go with yeh, Braddok." Duor interjected, indicating himself and Coerraine. "Need to stock up anyway if we're huntin' fer dragon treasure." the dwarf smiled broadly at the idea of piles of riches.
"Dragon treasure?!" Braddok said surprised.
"Tomorrow, Duor. We will discuss our options tomorrow. For now, Braddok, I think it best we listen to the Shaalir and get you some rest." Alaria interrupted before any of the other companions could launch into the tales of what might or might not be contained in the treacherous swamps of the Feldmere.
"I think I'd like to stay up for a while, my lady...erm...Alaria. I've been 'resting' for some time, it seems." Braddok grinned weakly at the lovely wizardess.
"Well," Haelan began with a yawn, "I am happy to keep you company and continue to jog your memory...as long as I can. It is rather late for us." the daelvar priest smiled at his returned friend. "Oh! And we have this!"
The priest went behind one of the large comfortable chairs near the burning fireplace and returned dragging the large triangular shaped shield emblazoned with the black fork-tailed bird.
Braddok's mind swam with dream-like hazy memories of the image he'd seen in the Underworld. The fork-tailed bird....swallowtail!....swallowtail hawk...."Yes! This is the swallowtail hawk! It is the coat of arms of my family!...My family in Denil!" Braddok burst, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.
Haelan smiled broadly. "I'd hoped you'd like it. I think the smith at Bridgetower did a very fine job."
"Yeah. We had it refurbished fer yer expected return." said Duor, stepping up beside the halfling.
"We?!" Haelan protested. But he let it drop. Braddok was back, that was what was important...he mentally apologized to Faerantha for his "pride".
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll let you all catch up." yawned the satyr with a long stretch of his arms. "Was nice to meet you, Braddok. I'll see you all in the morning."
"Thank you...em....friend satyr. Good night to you." Braddok replied. He found couldn't recall the satyr's name...nor anything else about him other than being introduced as the company's newest addition.
"I too require some rest." Alaria stated. "I feel tomorrow may be another long day and we've much to discuss and decide. I will take my leave of you, gentlefolk."
The companions all said their good nights to the magess. Coerraine and Braddok both rose from their chairs as the wizard took her leave.
Braddok questioned his instinctive action, but figured since the paladin had done it, it must have been the right thing to do.
The rest of the men stayed up talking with Braddok for another hour or so. At one point, as Duor was regaling him with his stunning victory against the ogre at Bridgetower, Braddok's stomach made a loud rumbling. The warrior excused himself to his friends and then realized that he was quite hungry.
This, of course, prompted Haelan to grab his new "gift" from the Dragonmage and asked Braddok what he would like to eat? The warrior had no response other than, "Umm....I don't actually know. What do I like?"
"I know! You haven't had any of the Wyvern's Wing mutton pasty before. You'll love it!" without waiting for a response, the halfling touched the pestle/spoon to the side of the bowl and said, "Mutton Pasty from the Wyvern's Wing inn." He then handed the bowl over to Braddok.
To the swordsman's amazement, the bowl was filled with pastry pockets filled with the spiced meat and onions. The odor of fresh baked pastries filled the chamber. Braddok sniffed in deeply and smiled. Yes, he definitely liked that smell.
Duor and Haelan each took one when the bowl continued to supply the things. the three ate hungrily and talked and laughed a bit. Braddok found himself feeling comfortable with these fellows, who apparently had been his "friends." He enjoyed the "new" feelings of comradery very much.
After a while more the swordsman, having finished all of the food the bowl had to offer, had to admit he was in fact actually tired.
The companions all retired even as the sky was taking on its pre-dawn rosy hue.
Braddok laid on the comfortable bed and stared at the ceiling with his hands crossed on his chest. Despite being tired, his eyes did not close at all. He was feeling...something...something that made him not want to close his eyes. A cold feeling. He shivered at the unpleasant sensation.
He laid there for a couple of hours, the satyr and halfling were deep in slumber. He waited when he heard others of the companions rise in the outer chamber. Then he rose to meet them...still tired.
The following day, once everyone had risen, the companions were visited by a black bearded gnome in bright and mismatched blue and yellow striped leggings and a green tunic with orange polka-dots. His feet were contained, somewhere, within the bright blue ankle-height shoes with the gnomish style curled up toes...that rose practically to the height of the gnome's knees.
Haelan was thoroughly perplexed how the gnome made the seemingly soft fabric shoes curl up to such a height and stay there. Gnomish magic, the daelvar presumed.
Perhaps the most shocking part of the outfit was the floppy broadly-brimmed hat the gnome wore. It was nearly as wide across as the gnome was tall of bright pink felt with a large green feather that "matched" his tunic.
He was introduced by the still sleepy looking boy, Quip, as "the Vale's finest tailor, Gnormelligent Quickstitch."
"But ye's can call me Gnorm." the black bearded gnome winked. From around his waist, he withdrew a long ribbon, that seemed to have circled the gnome three times over. He placed the small step-stool he'd brought along and took measurements for Braddok.
"Something in charteuse stars I think would be lovely on such broad shoulders. OO! Or I have a fresh bolt of some lovely pink and orange striped Thelitian silk I got from a trader last month. Can't go wrong with Thelitian silk, me mudma always said." Gnorm suggested, in an attempt to be helpful. <author/DM's note: 1)"mudma", if not obvious, is the gnomish iteration of "mother"...gnomes finding all things related to the earth, including mud, as highly important/venerated. 2) The Orean Gnomish sense of fashion is something of an...acquired taste for anyone but gnomes. >
Braddok looked with some worry to Alaria who had been watching the tailor do his work.
"Something in a pale blue, I think, would be more fitting." Alaria offered to the tailor. "Plain pale blue. Something durable...for travel. Perhaps with the black swallowtail hawk on the chest?" Seeing Braddok smile in thanks and approval, Alaria confirmed. "Yes, with the hawk on the chest. You can duplicate something like this?" She asked the gnome indicating the symbol on the shield.
"My dear, Magess, I am Gnormelligent of Daenfrii. I can duplicate anything...as long as it's fabric. hahahaheeheeee." the tailor replied with a smile and chuckle.
The similarity of the tailor's laugh to Gnobert's was...a bit unnerving.
"But very good. Yeer the customer an' the customer's always tight....er...right. heehee." the gnome smiled and winked. "A blue tunic with a black swallowtail hawk it shall be." the gnome finished and re-wrapped the ribbon-tape measure about his waist.
"Should be ready before six bells. Will you be picking it up or shall I have it sent? Only 2 silver more fer deliv'ry." he asked as he absently scribbled notes and numbers onto a small pad he'd produced from some unseen pocket.
"We'll pick it up. Have to go into town for some armor, anyway." Coerraine offered for the swordsman.
"Very good, my lords. I bid ye, all, a good day." he made a flourishing bow with his broad-brimmed hat before exiting.
As the gnome took his leave, Fen returned and behind him the giant ferret, Buttercreamshadowfeet.
Braddok looked at the half-elf and his eyes bulged open. "You! You're the druid who had my back!" Braddok again burst with satisfied surprise before taking the druid in a big bear hug. "My thanks to you, my brother-in-arms. I bare you no ill will for my untimely fate. The battle was hard won, from what I am told."
"B-Braddok!?" Fen managed to get out before the large man hugged him. "Uh...um...yes. Welcome back. I am pleased to see you...uh...well." he looked over Braddok's shoulder at Alaria and Erevan with a look that said, quite clearly, "what's this all about?"
When the swordsman released the druid, Fen said to the collected heroes with a charming smile, "Seems it worked then?"
"Well, mostly." Erevan replied before explaining Braddok's lapses of memory quickly in the elvin tongue.
"Ahhhhh. That's it then." Fen turned to Braddok, still smiling charmingly.
"And you found Buttercream!" Haelan cried and hugged the fluffy neck of the ferret which made small squeaking noises in admiration and nuzzled the daaelvar priest.
"We have a ferret named 'Buttercream'?" Braddok questioned the others with some disbelief.
"We didn't name her." Alaria replied simply and smiled back at the warrior. "But she's ours now. Or, well, more accurately Fen and Haelan's."
Their company complete, all of the companions noticeably relaxed in each others' company as the servants, Rik and Quip, entered with trays of food for the company's lunch.
Everyone ate and drank casually and discussion of their next move began.
"Seems a no brainer." Duor spoke up through the long drawls of ale from his mug. "We got Braddok back. The Iser Pale is in safe keeping. Adventure and dragon fortune awaits!"
"Ihs Repahl." Erevan corrected. "It's called the Ihs Repahl. And do we truly mean to leave it here, Alaria? Beyond that, I say we head to my homeland and aid in the defense against the goblin army incursion. That is, no doubt, where we will find Treesahd and could put an end to his wickedness." The elf finished and sipped calmly on his goblet of elfvine. The elf felt himself with an uncharacteristic burning to battle again with the dark wizard and give him "what for."
"Well...I mean...do we have to, Erevan? He wanted the orb and we don't have it anymore. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. tresahd will probably want nothing to do with us again." Haelan interjected.
"'Cept kill us all, of course." Duor muttered under his beard. "To the Feldmere and fame and fortune, I say."
The idea of meeting the wizard, who had very nearly slain several of them including Haelan, was not something the halfling Hilltender looked forward to. Festus concurred with Duor and Haelan.
Even Coerraine had to admit, the prospect of eliminating the evil of the dark wizard aside, they did not seem in a position to take him on with any hopeful chances of success. But in time...the Redstar, again to himself, shared Erevan's desire for a "rematch." His own feelings, ultimately, meant nothing. He was duty bound to go wherever the dwarf decided...the young Goldshield just hoped the rest of the party would agree and be with them.
Alaria proposed the idea of "wintering in the Vale." She was not in any rush to leave this intensely magical place. There was much here, she was sure, to be learned. "....and with the snows expected in no more than a month, according to Captain Rynthis, would it be wise to find ourselves in a quickly freezing swamp?"
"We could...I...I should...return to my homeland. I have much to do there." Braddok offered cautiously. The swordsman silently admitted, however, he did have a debt of honor to be repaid to this curious company...his former friends...who had gone to the trouble of raising him from the dead! If he were to retake his ancestral lands, he would do it with honor. Memories or not, his sense of honor was not impaired...if anything, it seemed more intense....more focused.
"But, whatever the group decides. I swear, my blade is yours as long as I continue to draw breath." Braddok added. His gaze had fallen, decidedly, on Alaria when he said "yours." Then chuckled to himself before saying, "And even beyond it seems."
Several of the companions chuckled at the jest.
Alaria smiled and nodded. The humor was good. It seemed, to her, Braddok was more like his "former" self. She hoped such attributes would continue to surface and grow...into the man she knew, yet had barely bothered to "know."
"Fen?" Haelan asked the druid.
The half-elf just shrugged as he bit into a large round red apple. "Whatever you all decide. My order has given me no indication where to go from here. Simply to protect the orb. That seems to be done, as far as I'm concerned."
"A vote it is to be then?" Festus said. In aside to Alaria, the satyr leered, "I get a vote now, don't I? I am a member of the company now."
"Of course, Festus." Alaria confirmed, though she was careful not to meet the satyr's gaze.
To stay in the Vale for the winter, there was only Alaria and Haelan.
That not winning, Alaria placed her next vote for Miralosta along with Fen, and Erevan.
Festus, reveling in his newfound freedom, was anxious to get somewhere out of Daenfrii or the neighboring elvin realm with which he was somewhat acquainted. Between himself, Duor and Coerraine's "forced" vote with whatever the dwarf decided and, to everyone's surprise, Haelan, the decision was made.
"Well, if we're not going to be safe here, we might as well not be safe somewhere Tresahd is not!" the daelvar defended his vote.
They would supply themselves and prepare to make for the Feldmere.
Alaria proposed they remain for a week's time, to gather whatever information they could and give Braddok some time to really "get back on his feet."
Everyone agreed to that.
"AlRIGHT! Dragon treasure hunting wins the day! C'mon Goldilocks. C'mon Braddok. We have some armor and supplies to buy. Leave the brainy types to the research department. Festus, you want to come too? We'll see you lot later." Duor hopped up from his seat, thoroughly satisfied at getting "his" way.
The two human warriors, the dwarf rogue and satyr ranger left for the town (which apparently had no name other than "the Vale" or "Dragonwing Vale").
Alaria, Erevan, Haelan and Fen began discussion of how to go about their researching. Alaria would meet with the archivist Felton at his first convenience. She and Erevan hoped to be able to access the Keep's library or perhaps the temple of Manat, below the actual keep. Haelan said he would consult with the local priestesses of Gilea and perhaps other temples to see what materials they might have. Fen agreed to accompany Haelan, though, himself, had little interest in research and would probably end up wandering the town or surrounding farmlands to see what rumors or myths the local populace might have.
Five days later, the day of Darkveil Night (Braddok's deadline for returning from the Netherworld) the party was entirely prepared to leave the Vale of the Dragonmage.