D&D 5E 5E A Bard's Tale [Recruiting]

My character is ready, pending magic item purchases.

How much do the various types of Seal-Stones cost, and what color goes with which damage type?


Background
According to family legend, Alain Pepper is descended from Sehanine Moonbow, The elven goddess of the moon. It is this ancestry that allows him to summon the light of the moon at will.
In his youth, he served in the lord's army as a healer. It was while performing these duties that he first met Alistaire, who taught him the healing power of music.
As the war ground on, Alain spent much time in Alistaire's company, learning songs of power, and how to make his blades dance. He also received promotions, the last one to Sergeant.
After the war, they traveled together, perfoming in villages and towns, fortresses and seaports, sometimes music, sometimes magic, but most often with their flashing blades.
A brief but harrowing trip to the Shadowfell 2 years ago left Alistaire dead, and awoke something within Alain that makes him think that maybe the family legends are wrong...

Hey Trogdor, did you ever get my PM?


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If there's still room, I have a character to add.

Eshu Kazander Ravid

Far across the sea to the east, where Moradin and Gruumsh once fought so viciously that the earth itself still reverberates with the echoes of their blows, lies the land of Geghar. A rough and craggy land of earthquakes and volcanoes, Geghar is home to an olive-skinned human population, ruled by small freeholds of black-haired, alabaster-skinned elves with eyes like gemstones.

Kazander Ravid was born to one of those human girls, a servant in the house of an elvish noble with a penchant for chasing fairer staff members around the manor. He was not a cruel employer; Eshu's family always had work. In fact, when the boy turned 14, he himself began to work for the noble, unaware that the high-and-mighty lord was in fact his father.

For five years, he served the house of Eshuvenniel with honesty and vigor. Then, the noble lord summoned his daughter home from her decade of fostering. Nobles, you see, would send their children to the courts and palaces of other highborn families, to allow them to gain experience away from the prying eyes and ears of those they might one day rule. When Tobin Eshuvenniel came home, though, Kazander took one glance from her amethyst eyes and plummeted deep into the foolish and ignorant depths of youthful passion.

Of course, this love was fated for disaster from the outset. Was it the watchful gaze of an amused goddess, or the honorable hearts of well-raised children, that protected the unlucky pair? Who can tell? What can be known is that they never touched. Not even on the night Kazander decided to act out his impossible dream and ask his noble master to allow his lovely daughter to marry an honest, but penniless, household servant.

Lord Eshuvenniel sighed and told his bastard son the truth that would shatter his frail young heart. Then he signaled to the chief of his guards, who gave the boy a hard crack on the head, rolled him up in a carpet, and laid him over the back of a donkey. For two weeks, they rode west. One morning, Kazander awoke to find the guard gone. Left behind was a full waterskin, papers of banishment, and a stinging on the half-elf's cheek that turned out to be a tattoo, three wavy green lines that called to mind perhaps wind blowing through a field of grain or the rise and fall of hills on the horizon.

For a week, the boy wandered the steppelands. As luck, or perhaps a now-interested goddess would have it, Kazander happened across a priest of the goddess [insert name from pantheon] just as he swallowed the last drop from the waterskin. For that was whose mark Kazander now bore on his cheek; the sigil of [goddess], the Lady of Luck and Blessed Watcher of Travelers.

For a year, he worked for the priest.
For another year, he learned the magic of wiry sinew and quick reflexes and sharp steel.
For five years after that, he learned the magic of the baglama, the long-necked lute of the steppe peoples. Other instruments he learned as well, but melding his rich tenor to the sweet tones of the baglama made a kind of magic rarely seen in the world.

After seven years of wandering the eastern lands with the priest, building shrines and bringing luck where it was needed, it was time. "Your days as a supplicant are over, Kazander. Your days as a mendicant have just begun. This is my land; go west and find your own.... and perhaps you will find what the Lady lost in a bygone age."

Two weeks later, the splatter of wind-blown salt surf stung his lips as he sailed west.
A month later, he found himself in a squalid port town.
And now, after two warm, dry weeks of travel that would bore anyone but one with a true Traveler's heart... the walls of the city appear on the horizon... and a young, lovelorn half-elf begins to pluck a jaunty tune as chance and fate begin their dance of weaving his reality from future possibility into present action!

Hey, I am sorry I did not get back here sooner. Glad to see you back and okay Trog! While you were gone Fenris and I both went and signed up for a whole bunch of games so while this sounds like so much fun, neither of us can commit to another game right now. I apologize but it looks like you have people to fill the spots, which I am happy for.

Have fun gaming

Almost 3 weeks with no posts from Trogdor1992...is this still happening?