[v.3.5] Realmsian Dragonstar: The Battle of Toril PbP Game [IC] (Game Cancelled)

Campaign Introduction
Toril. Faerûn. Baldur's Gate. 1374 DR, Flamerule 21.

An hour before dawn...
In the Western Heartlands, the city of Baldur's Gate stands as the gateway to 'everywhere else' in the lands known as Faerûn. Standing on the northern bank of the river known as Chionthar, only twenty miles from the coastline, the Sword Coast. The Chionthar originates in the Sunset Mountains far to the east and flows through 'miles and miles of miles and miles', past the other cities of the Western Heartlands, south and west of the Reaching Woods (where it meets the River Reaching) and then south of the Fields of the Dead before flowing past Baldur's Gate and emptying into the Trackless Sea.

The sun of Amaunator has yet to rise, but the light from the world's star has turned the eastern sky a incandescent blue at the edge of the horizon. The citizens of Baldur's Gate have already started their day. There are tinkers, flower maids, local merchants, wandering traders all preparing their wares in the open-air market known as The Wide. The masterful docks of the harbor of the city are in full swing with their unusual crane-like constructs that were put in place by the clerics of Gond and the knowing mind of Elminster of Shadowdale.

Near the Duchal Palace in the western half of the city, the temple of Gond, The High House of Wonders, stands closed to the faithful. It is a strange sight to see the priests of the temple turn away their flock, but they explain that “High Artificer Thalamond Albaier is in communion with Gond in the main hall and must not be disturbed.” The crowd buzzes sensing some sort of major revelation from the clergy. What could it be about?

Elsewhere in the city, a lone man walks the streets decrying the loss of the world. “The world is ending! The world is ending!” He shouts. It is the mad prophet, Haspur. He believes he's touched by the heavens, but most consider him to be touched in the head. His ranting is nothing knew, but his eyes seem more fearful than usual this morning. A lone figure watches the mad prophet from the shadows and then is gone into the crowd. The guards come for Haspur, but he manages to evade them through an alley. A warrior of some renown points at Haspur as he flees the guards as he speaks to a nearby companion, “Boo says, 'that man is crazy'.”

In the Water-Queen's House, Storm-Priestess of Umberlee, Jalantha Mistmyr, faints dead away from divine aftershock. In The Lady's Hall, the temple of Tymora, acolytes find High Priest of the Lady's Favor Chanthalas Ulbright vomiting in his privy. At the shrines to Helm, Ilmater, Lathander, Oghma, and Waukeen, local clerics and visiting pilgrims feel a sense of uneasiness. One cleric of Waukeen is said to have spoken these words to her god, “What has happened? Where are you?” Rumors begin to circulate that the gods have disappeared or have cutoff their clergy's power. No one dares to say what many of them are thinking... Has a god died?

The faithful of Gond fill the streets around The High House of Wonders. They are soon joined by worshipers of the other major temples of Baldur's Gate. All wait for the High Artificer to appear on the steps of the temple, hopeful that he will be able to tell them what their own clergy can't or won't tell them. The crowd is surprisingly silent despite the eagerness of of all those gathered. There is only quiet murmuring and silent prayers for answers. Along the edge of the crowd, members of the Flaming Fist Mercenary Company keeps watch for troublemakers, but even they are nervous.

Several citizens are shocked to see Grand Duke Entan walk through the crowd (with a contingent of Flaming Fists) to the front of temple of Gond. He questions the acolytes and lesser artificers guarding the door to the temple. They shake their head when he demands to be let in. “Open the damn doors!” he yells. Still they refuse and it appears that the Gondites and the Fists are set to exchange blows when the doors to the temple open. The High Artificer stumbles through, nearly tripping down the steps. An acolyte grabs him and helps him down the steps to wear the Grand Duke is waiting. He is pale and shaking in fear. The crowd goes completely silent.

“Thalamond, what is it?” Eltan asks.

“M-myst-tra,” the cleric sputters. “S-she, she is d-dead. The W-weave, it, it is g-gone.”

Murmuring in the crowd quickly turns to gasps of horror and dismay. Fear quickly begins to spread through the populace and the Flaming Fists are soon trying to stop a riot. The High Artificer tries to speak again over the noise but he faints from exhaustion. Eltan and the clerics of Gond flee into the temple closing the door behind them, as the panic boils over into chaos. The Fists push back the crowd and distraught citizens begin to spread out into the city to spread the word.

“The Goddess of Magic has died!” “It is the Time of Troubles all over again!” “I heard that Waukeen has died again too.”

The rumors and madness fill the streets and those merchants who'd been preparing for the morning now either head out of the city or lock themselves away in their homes. The mass of crowds break up into smaller groups, as some people flee to their homes. Angry youths begin vandalizing buildings and the Flaming Fists spend the next hour trying to restore order to the city. The city's jails are soon overflowing just as dark clouds appear on the horizon over the Trackless Sea. The storm blows in like a dire omen and soon the city is awash in a torrential rain. Those still in the streets flee inside as lightning crashes in the sky and large hail fall from the sky.

Only one man stands under the downpour. Haspur the mad seer yells at the sky. “The world is ending!” Then there is a roar like a dragon that cannot be and several dark shapes pass overhead. They are red and metallic with burning red embers for eyes and the metal beasts screech through the sky at a blinding speed. Haspur screams in horror and falls over unconscious in the muddy streets. A large hailstone sits next to his body in the street. No one is there to hear him mumble, “Mystra is dead. The Empire has come. The world is ending. Not even the gods can save us.”

Kethrendil's Introduction
Kethrendil had made good time getting to Baldur's Gate. Considering he had to travel from Semberholme more than half way across the entirety of Faerûn to the Sword Coast in a matter of days, 'good time' was an understatement. Thank the Seldarine teleportation. And a solid network of magically-talented friends, the gold elf mused.

he regretted leaving the Crusade while they continued to reclaim ancient Cormanthyr from the daemonfey. He had joined them when Seiveril Miritar called for it to save Evereska from the daemonfey. Though he joined as an independent fighter, his experiences on the mainland got him assigned with the advance force ahead of the main body, and he was involved in most of the fighting. Friendships were forged in the heat of those battles, tempered by the blood of fallen allies. Kethrendil had made more new friends, and lost them, in those past four months than in the past 2 years. To leave while the fight was still ongoing pained him.

His comrades understood, though, and aided him on his way. They knew that Kethrendil was loyal to his friends, and when one of them reached out to him with an urgent request to meet in Baldur's Gate, they understood that the lone elf had to answer the call. That's how he found himself entering the Gate to the Sword Coast in the middle of the night. How long had it been since he last visited his place? Some five years now; very short for an elf, but after the intense and harrowing past four months of fighting, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Kethrendil wondered what could his old friend G'axir the Seer need him for? His message was vague. "My friend, a doom is coming. Your blade is needed at the Gate. Make haste, but do not worry, you'll make it in time." The elf ruefully shook his head; the half-elf priest was always so vague with his premonitions. But in the past ten years since Kethrendil had first met him by chance (or was it? he mused), G'axir's soothsaying always had enough clues to aid him in his adventures. Any time he found himself on the Sword Coast, Kethrendil made it a point to stop by Baldur's Gate and visit his friend. So when it was his friend instead who reached out to him, Kethrendil absolutely had to answer. He had not told the Seer where he was going to be, but considering the half-elf's vague future-telling, and past experience with him, Kethrendil was not too surprise that he had managed to get the message to him at the right time.

It was well past midnight when Kethrendil entered the Blade and Stars inn, G'axir's favorite haunt. It was late, or early considering the sun will be up in little more than an hour, so the elf had planned to rent a room, rest, and meet with his friend during the day. However, the hearth was already lit when he entered, and he was not quite surprised to see his friend resting in a lounge chair. He was looking up at the door as if already expecting a visit.

Kethrendil could not help but let out a rueful chuckle and shook his head. "And here I'd thought I'd get the drop on you this time, my friend," the elf greeted him as he entered the building and headed towards the hearth. "How have you been, G'axir? What was so urgent that you actually needed to reach out to me?"

OOC: Pale Turquoise

Shazer'a and Nelalwe...
Stepping out in the early dawn hours, the large figure in his 'outlandish' armor and equipment with his small gnomish companion in tow. Adjusting some of his gear, Shazer'a sets his hands on his hips...and looks about with a grimace. Any passers by on the street give him a wide berth, fearful of his monstrous mein, but Shazer'a seems not to notice. "It shapes up to be another warm day my friend. Let us search out this temple of invention and see if we can offer them proofs to my words, perhaps their head priest wields enough influence to get the 'grand dukes' to listen".

With that Nelalwe and Shazer'a head out of their dwelling and make for the temple of Gond. As they make their way across town, they can't help but hear the whispers that flow and surround them as they walk. Some concerned with them and Shazer's scaled appearance, and others over worry about things happening in the city's various temples and shrines. Nelalwe tries to lighten the mood, cracking jokes at Shazer'a's expense and asking him riddles, all of which he correctly guesses or answers due to his own intellect and his draconic heritage. Abruptly he shakes his head, "I am not in a riddling mood this day my friend, too much weighs on me and even the considerable pull of my nature cannot overcome my worries for this place should Mezzenbone find it." Worried as they arrive at the building only to find it locked by priests and accolytes. Standing with the rest of the crowd as the Grand Duke Entar breaks through the crowd and demands entrance, Shazer'a is caught off guard like much of the rest of the crowd as the Gondan cleric utters his words about this world's goddess of magic. Turning to Nelalwe with confusion on his face, "these outlander deities are but nothing compared to the gods of the Unification Church. Would an Aspect have the power to slay such as this, Mystra?"

Nelalwe being at once more clever and thoughtful than Shazer'a ponder for a minute, the sudden chaos of the crowd not nearing their little pocket due to fear of Shazer'a himself. "Most definitely..." color drains from her face as she comes to a realization, "but for one to do that, it would have to have been brought as an Aspect on an Imperial Naval vessel."

A quick snort blasts from Shazer'a nose as his bonded companion utters that prediction. "Then we may already be too late for these people." Turning his keen eyes scanning the crowd, Shazer's roars above even the tulmult of the crowd, "ELTAN! IT IS AS I SAID, THE EMPIRE IS COME! THIS PLANET'S DOOM IS AT HAND...SPEAK WITH ME! WE CAN AID YOU!" As always, Nelalwe settled into Shazer'as shadow as he makes a scene even among the chaos of a near riot. Keeping her eyes roving and her magic near at hand to protect her charge, Nelalwe unconsciously puts one hand to her inner pouch, ensuring it's contents safety and sneaking looks at the sky when she can.

OOC: Golden Rod and Teal.

Rodan the raptorian...
Rodan stopped short his tourist visit of Waukeen's shrine as the ships came out from the sky. "Oh, such a shame. I really liked this planet. With so many strange and diverse things so common I thought I'd be able to hide out here, but nothing lasts forever and it seems it's time to flee once more." The cleric checked his equipment and flexed his wings instinctively as he pondered if it would be best to hide in a nearby building or make a running-glide into the city's outskirts and hide out into the nearby woods. A memory of his mother reached Rodan's scurrying thoughts; when he was young and learning to fly and she said to him, "Rodan, always remember to fly when you see danger. Fly whenever you think you are in danger. You lack the claws of a wild surring cat and the muscles of the four-armed ape. What nature gave you was your wings and your brains, so when trouble comes you flee first, then think on how best to thrive soon after." This was valuable advice on his technological, yet still half-wild homeworld. It became even more important when the Empire invaded his home those short years ago. Out of his clutch, it was his father who didn't survive the initial attack on his city. His youngest brother didn't make it out of the settlement.

The clutch moved on, with his oldest sister that was lost as they fled their country, then the second sister when they found a ship in one of the last Rodarian holdouts willing to take them off planet before the final attack of the soon-to-be conquerors. Brave Pteryl, his oldest brother and accomplished pilot helped get that ragtag fleet of survivors out of their system, but he too was lost so others might live. His mother was the last of his clutch to die, but to this day Rodan couldn't tell if it was her wounds or her broken heart that finished her off. He still remembered her advice to him, "Keep running, Rodan. You are the last of your clutch, and you'll make it out these next tough years as long as you keep running."

She was right. History told him the Empire couldn't expand forever, and would lose energy and fall apart the more it tried. Space was infinite and he could find success and life if he kept moving. But where could he go now? He was nowhere near the ship that brought him here, and these locals wouldn't even understand what space was if he tried to take a moment to explain it. Where should he flee? Where was the best chance for his survival? The loud moans of the injured all around him snapped his mind back to the scene around him. People were hurt, just as he watched his family hurt. He was powerless to help then, but not now. He learned the ways of healing during the Great Flight offworld, and today he was an expert at helping the wounded. He grabbed the crazy man, the one that was yelling about the end of the world. "World's don't end, crazy man. They suffer, they hurt, and they go mad, but they don't really end," he thought to himself.

Rodan made his decision. He was too much of a coward to flee. Too fearful of the night terrors and the guilt that would haunt him if he watched another die when he could have helped. He would do what he could for the injured, then he would run far, fly fast. Flee as far as he could away from the Empire and away from the madness. Rodan grabbed the fallen Haspur by the collar so he could drag him to safety and looked around for those he traveled with that seemed familiar and yelled, "Help me! We have to get the injured inside a building. Bring those that can't help themselves out of the hail and lightning!"

OOC: Turquoise

Dakashi and Hadyri
A human man with ruby red hair, emerald green eyes and the bearing of nobility is seen rushing through the crowd and storm, accompanied by a female xeph towards the collapsed body of the doomsaying prophet, Haspur.

Together they drag the unconscious man out of the downpour and under the cover of a nearby building's awning. The human man gently shakes the Haspur in an attempt to awaken him, "Sir, are you alright?"

The ruby haired human looks towards his xeph companion, "Hadyri, any thoughts?" Hadyri shakes her head, "I have no idea Dakashi but perhaps we should find this man a healer."

They both look around the area for any obvious signs of a cleric or obvious healer wandering by...

OOC: Red and Azure

Soumral Shadewalker
Soumral rises to greet the first glow of the new day's light, and offers up a small prayer to Corellon for a good day. Dressing in the clothes of a traveler that she is, Soumral makes her way down to the common room of the inn that she checked in to. Looking around she notes that the few patrons present seem disturbed over something. Following her habits of observing people first before asking questions she returns to her room, and gathers up her belongings. Heading back downstairs she settles up with the slightly distracted innkeeper before heading out into the city proper. Looking around she notes that it seems that more than just the inn's patrons are distracted by, or worried about, something that's going on.

"What is going on here," she mutters to herself taking note that most of those up and about seem to be going the same way before moving to follow. As she follows along with the growing crowd, Soumral notes that they seem to be heading to what appears to be a massive cathedral surrounded by more citizen of the city, and priests of the god to which the building is for.

"Any ideas what's going on here?" Soumral asks the person nearest to her receiving a shaken head in return. Sighing a little in frustration she settles in to wait and find out just what is going on.

OOC: Green

Originally Posted by KainG:
It was well past midnight when Kethrendil entered the Blade and Stars Inn, G'axir's favorite haunt. It was late, or early considering the sun will be up in little more than an hour, so the elf had planned to rent a room, rest, and meet with his friend during the day. However, the hearth was already lit when he entered, and he was not quite surprised to see his friend resting in a lounge chair. He was looking up at the door as if already expecting a visit.

Click to expand...

Kethrendil had half expected to see the owner of the Blade and Star, Aundegul Shawn, standing nearby chatting with another patron or one of his staff. But there was no one else. The inn was empty like much of the city's streets had been, as he'd walked to the inn. Kethrendil had seen a few Flaming Fist patrols but they hadn't stopped him or even approached him.

And then the rain had come. Kethrendil could now hear that it had turned to a downpour, and he was sure there was heavy hail hitting the roof of the inn. All the windows were tightly shuttered, so the glass windows were safe from the storm. Going back out now would be risky until the storm passed.

Originally Posted by KainG:
Kethrendil could not help but let out a rueful chuckle and shook his head. "And here I'd thought I'd get the drop on you this time, my friend," the elf greeted him as he entered the building and headed towards the hearth. "How have you been, G'axir? What was so urgent that you actually needed to reach out to me?"

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Once Kethrendil comes closer to G'axir, he can clearly see that his old friend is distraught. His gaze almost peers through Kethrendil's soul. He hadn't been looking at the door. He was staring blankly at nothing and there was a tear in his eye.

"You better sit down, Keth," he says. "This is going to be tough for you to hear." G'axir waits for the elven duskblade to sit in a chair placed for him, so that the two can sit right across from each other. "Have you heard of a local trance-prophet named Haspur. No, no you probably haven't. He's considered a nuisance here in Baldur's Gate, but I don't think he's ever been beyond the city's walls. I'd never given him much thought. I was sure he was a false prophet, nothing more than a madman."

Thunder cracks outside, above the inn, the inn and G'axir trembles. He's usually so reserved, so centered. It's unnerving. After the peal fades away, Kethrendil is sure he hears a person crying nearby, but when he looks around, he sees no one.

"Mystra is dead, Keth. I have seen it and felt it. I don't know how she died, but she has and her death took the Weave with her. I cannot sense it anymore." G'axir pauses, letting his words sink into Kethrendil's soul. "Haspur saw it too, which I wasn't sure of until I saw him again today. He was shouting out at the sky. He was shouting that the world was coming to an end. He was more terrified than mad. He saw her death. I know it." He pauses again and grabs his head with both hands bending over in the chair. "What's worse, Mystra's not the only deity who has died. Tymora is gone as well. The high priest of The Lady's Hall had a vision of goddess's death. Tymora turned to ash in his mind. It made him horribly sick. After he told his underlings, one of them threw herself off the peak of the temple to the streets below."

G'axir grabs at a glass of wine sitting on the table next to him and nerly knocks over the bottle sitting next to it. He gulps down the wine, fills it again, and drinks down another glass. Then he guzzles directly from the bottle until cannot drink anymore. His hands are shaking and he weeps openly.

"Gods are dying, Keth! And none of them know why! B-but, I, I do! Or, at least, I think I do! The visions I'm seeing have kept me up at nights! Visions of stars upon stars and flying metal machines that rain down death! An empire beyond our world that spans the stars and conquers worlds upon worlds upon worlds! And Toril is next!"

G'axir leans back and sits quietly in his chair. He sighs once and then screams in anger. He throws the bottle across the room in fit of anger. He laughs and then slides down the chair, slumping nearly to the floor. He can see the questions on Kethrendil's face.

"How many others? How many of them have died? I do not know. Umberlee might be gone too. I heard that Jalantha Mistmyr fainted from some sort of shack this morning. Her own subordinates can't even wake her, although I'm not sure how hard their trying. Clerics all over the city seem to have been cut off form their deities. I cannot see what is happening anymore; all I see are the stars and the sleek ships of metal." G'axir leans in to look directly at Kethrendil's face. The duskblade is astonished to see that the seer's eyes are, gone. It's as if something burnt them from the man's eye sockets. All Kethrendil can see in his friend's sockets is blackness, a blackness filled with endless stars. "Find Haspur, Keth. He knows what is to come. He might this city's only hope. No, he might be the world's only hope. Find him, Keth. Find him and protect him, no matter the cost." Then G'axir shakes uncontrollably; he jolts upright in the chair grabbing at his chest and head. "No more stars," he whispers as a whitish foam appears at the edges of his mouth.

Then he slumps down in the chair dead, a horridly serene smile on his face.

Originally Posted by Deuce Traveler
Rodan stopped short his tourist visit of Waukeen's shrine as the ships came out from the sky. "Oh, such a shame. I really liked this planet. With so many strange and diverse things so common I thought I'd be able to hide out here, but nothing lasts forever and it seems it's time to flee once more." The cleric checked his equipment and flexed his wings instinctively as he pondered if it would be best to hide in a nearby building or make a running-glide into the city's outskirts and hide out into the nearby woods. <snip>

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While Rodan cannot see the ships, he can clearly hear them. He knows that sound well. Imperial Dragonrunners. Small ships that act as scouts for the largest ships in the fleets of the Dragon Empire. The ships pass over the city using the storm as cover. The ships likely seeded the atmosphere to cause the massive storm to hide themselves from prying eyes.

Rodan knew that the Dragon Empire had come to this pristine world and that Toril would change significantly and violently. It would be as it had been on his world and so many others.

Originally Posted by Deuce Traveler
The loud moans of the injured all around him snapped his mind back to the scene around him. People were hurt, just as he watched his family hurt. He was powerless to help then, but not now. He learned the ways of healing during the Great Flight offworld, and today he was an expert at helping the wounded. He grabbed the crazy man, the one that was yelling about the end of the world. "World's don't end, crazy man. They suffer, they hurt, and they go mad, but they don't really end," he thought to himself.

Click to expand...

Originally Posted by tekknowkub
A human man with ruby red hair, emerald green eyes and the bearing of nobility is seen rushing through the crowd and storm, accompanied by a female xeph towards the collapsed body of the doomsaying prophet, Haspur.

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Just as Rodan goes to grab the fallen man, a nearby human and a xeph have the same idea. All three of the heroes converge on the mad prophet at the same time.

Rodan made his decision. He was too much of a coward to flee. Too fearful of the night terrors and the guilt that would haunt him if he watched another die when he could have helped. He would do what he could for the injured, then he would run far, fly fast. Flee as far as he could away from the Empire and away from the madness. Rodan grabbed the fallen Haspur by the collar so he could drag him to safety and looked around for those he traveled with that seemed familiar and yelled, "Help me! We have to get the injured inside a building. Bring those that can't help themselves out of the hail and lightning!"

Originally Posted by tekknowkub
Together they drag the unconscious man out of the downpour and under the cover of a nearby building's awning.

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Working together along with a local emboldened by Rodan's plea, the three heroes mange to get the unconscious man under cover. The few other citizens nearby scatter to various buildings but a few of them don't make it. Large chunks of ice hit pummel them down to the ground. A big man pulls a fallen friend to safety while a lone woman ducks and covers in her armor with her shield over her head for protection. She is taking quite a beating. An armored man tries to rush out to her and gets smashed in the face by a massive hailstone. He goes down in a heap.

The woman with the shield tries to crawl to safety but just as she comes close to an outstretched hand, a bolt of Lightning hits a large shade tree standing at the cross-street. The energy of lightning shocks all those nearby. The woman jerks violently and then she is still. The hand outstretched for hers goes limp as well and two more locals who'd taken shelter under the tree fall to the ground dead, fried to a crisp.

Luckily, the lightning bolt doesn't reach the three heroes or the man they pulled to safety. Rodan can tell from the sky that the storm is definitely not natural. The dragonrunners did this with the cloud seeding. He is positive now.

"Damn us to the Nine Hells!" Exclaims the man who helped Rodan, Dakashi, and Hadyri. "The gods have abandoned us!"

Originally Posted by tekknowkub
The human man (Dakashi) gently shakes the Haspur in an attempt to awaken him, "Sir, are you alright?"

The ruby haired human looks towards his xeph companion, "Hadyri, any thoughts?" Hadyri shakes her head, "I have no idea Dakashi but perhaps we should find this man a healer."

They both look around the area for any obvious signs of a cleric or obvious healer wandering by..

Click to expand...

.
"They're dying. The gods are dying," Haspur mumbles. "The world is ending in a blaze of fire and metal. The Centurion! The Centurion! It has come to win Toril for the Dragon Emperor. The red dragon who rules the stars. So many stars. The gods of Faerûn are dying. Betrayed by a false overlord. Mortals are going to die in the millions! All is lost without the heroes! Where are they, lost mistress? Where?"

Haspur groans, blinking open his eyes. "Y-you, it is you! Praise dead Mystra!" The mad prophet stares directly at Dakashi. "The stars have born you in this place to fight the coming darkness. And," Haspur sees Rodan. "The archangel has come. Soldier of the Merchant. Come to protect the world from the red predator and his armies. Avenge your clutch, archangel! But, but there must be others! Find the others!"

The man falls unconscious again.

"What is he babbling about?" The other man, the helpful local, looks at Dakashi and Rodan, hoping for answers.

Originally Posted by Buddha the DM
Soumral rises to greet the first glow of the new day's light, and offers up a small prayer to Corellon for a good day. Dressing in the clothes of a traveler that she is, Soumral makes her way down to the common room of the inn that she checked in to. Looking around she notes that the few patrons present seem disturbed over something. Following her habits of observing people first before asking questions she returns to her room, and gathers up her belongings. Heading back downstairs she settles up with the slightly distracted innkeeper before heading out into the city proper. Looking around she notes that it seems that more than just the inn's patrons are distracted by, or worried about, something that's going on.

"What is going on here," she mutters to herself taking note that most of those up and about seem to be going the same way before moving to follow. As she follows along with the growing crowd, Soumral notes that they seem to be heading to what appears to be a massive cathedral surrounded by more citizen of the city, and priests of the god to which the building is for.

"Any ideas what's going on here?" Soumral asks the person nearest to her receiving a shaken head in return. Sighing a little in frustration she settles in to wait and find out just what is going on.

Click to expand...

Soumral waits and watches with the rest of the crowd until a priest stumbles out of the temple. He looks like he's going to collapse on the spot. The crowd goes silent and then he says something that makes Soumral's heart sink.

“M-myst-tra,” the cleric sputters. “S-she, she is d-dead. The W-weave, it, it is g-gone.”

The words cause an uproar of sadness and rage and the crowd becomes a mob. The cleric is dragged back towards the temple's door by other priests and several soldiers, which Soumral knows are members of the Flaming Fists. They are guardians of Baldur's Gate. She is nearly caught up in the wave of peoples no caught in the grips of fear.

"What about Gond?" A man yells toward the temple. "Does Gond still live?" as the man hopes for an answer, Soumral notices a strange duo fighting to stay together in the panicking crowd. They are an odd pairing. One obviously has dragonblood while the other is gnomish. And their attire is definitely not local. In fact, they look like they've stepping through a portal from somewhere, else.

Originally Posted by Salthorae
Worried as they arrive at the building only to find it locked by priests and accolytes. Standing with the rest of the crowd as the Grand Duke Entar breaks through the crowd and demands entrance, Shazer'a is caught off guard like much of the rest of the crowd as the Gondan cleric utters his words about this world's goddess of magic. Turning to Nelalwe with confusion on his face, "these outlander deities are but nothing compared to the gods of the Unification Church. Would an Aspect have the power to slay such as this, Mystra?"

Nelalwe being at once more clever and thoughtful than Shazer'a ponder for a minute, the sudden chaos of the crowd not nearing their little pocket due to fear of Shazer'a himself. "Most definitely..." color drains from her face as she comes to a realization, "but for one to do that, it would have to have been brought as an Aspect on an Imperial Naval vessel."

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"Shazer'a, that elf over there is staring at us," Nelalwe points to an elf woman.

She appears to be a native of the world, but Shazer'a senses something strangely familiar about her. The two heroes simply stand there looking at each other for a moment. Yet, if feels like an eternity of time. Shaking his head, Shazer'a turns his attention back to the task at hand.

Originally Posted by Salthorae
A quick snort blasts from Shazer'a nose as his bonded companion utters that prediction. "Then we may already be too late for these people." Turning his keen eyes scanning the crowd, Shazer's roars above even the tulmult of the crowd, "ENTAR! IT IS AS I SAID, THE EMPIRE IS COME! THIS PLANET'S DOOM IS AT HAND...SPEAK WITH ME! WE CAN AID YOU!" As always, Nelalwe settled into Shazer'as shadow as he makes a scene even among the chaos of a near riot. Keeping her eyes roving and her magic near at hand to protect her charge, Nelalwe unconsciously puts one hand to her inner pouch, ensuring it's contents safety and sneaking looks at the sky when she can.

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Soumral is shocked back to reality by the dragonblood's roar and words towards the temple. Is the beast attacking? No, he seems to be trying to get someone's attention.

Shazer'a is dismayed to find that his roar and proclamation fails to gent the Grand Duke's attention. Instead, it simply frightens the crowd more even send a few of the Flaming Fists scurrying for cover. Eltan and the cleric disappear into the temple of Gond and the door slams shut behind them.

Shazer'a and Nelalwe soon find themselves isolated and encircled by members of the Flaming Fists. They seem to see him as a threat.

"That did not go as you'd hoped," Nelalwe says.

The elf woman stands nearby, as the Fists close in. Then the crowd presses back against the guards, as panic drives them to flee in all directions. In the ensuing chaos, Shazer'a, his cohort, and Soumral are forced together in a mass of citizenry. They are ebbed and flowed down several streets before being left behind near a dark alley. The Fists are gone, and the temple of Gond is now several blocks away.

Then the storm hits and the heroes are trying not to be washed away or be pelted by massive iceshards. Then Shazer'a hears them, the dragonrunners roaring through the sky. The Dragon Empire has come to Toril.

KA-BOOM!
The sound rips through the morning like a hurricane. A massive explosion that erupts from somewhere near the docks. The shock wave from the explosion breaks exposed glass windows and knocks over people. It causes ears to ring and eyes to blur. The explosion seems to have come from the city's harbor. A massive black cloud soon rises over the city and the outlander heroes hear a telltale sign. the rat-at-tat-tat of gunfire and powerful bursts from energy weapons. The sounds all come from the direction of the harbor.

And screaming, tons of screaming.