The Psionicle, Part XI

Continuation of the Psionicle game.

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Osius, Syld, Jansson, Animus, Ruth. The names of those hunting for the pieces of a powerful artifact that will save psionics and prevent those who practice the arts of the mind from certain destruction. But in the distant dark, their enemies plot against them... Jirlai, Ratheqar, and the woman in black still lurk in the world, though where, none can say. Though they have enemies, they also have allies... Shardorn, the goblin cleric of Rashida who has been with them through several of their trials, and the unusual Kloranth, a user of psionics found at the library. Their adventures have ranged from delving into the caverns of Thri-Kreen, to exploring an ancient library far distant from the city of Garanasseur... and certainly stranger places await them on their journey.

Their quest is daunting, their enemies many... but still they continue...

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Having picked up Shardorn, the party heads for the town gates of Garanasseur. As you pass by the Ace of Diamonds, Kloranth is just walking out of the door. He nods to you, his blue hair shifting slightly as he does so, and joins the group.

Thomas apparently knew that you were leaving today, as a young githyanki stands near the gates, holding the reins of your horses. As he spots you, he waves.

The sun is yet low in the sky, having risen in the last few hours. The clouds on the horizon are a blood-red color, though their colorful intensity is accompanied by subdued hues of purple and yellow. The sky above is still dark with the receding morning, a few lone stars twinkling in the morning light.

OoC: Just trying something a little different for an opening post for a new thread.

Always good to do GW.

Animus quitely mounts up onto a horse with what equipment he can manage, a new pewter metal piece hanging from his neck and barely visibile from under his clothing. He nods to the Githyanki, then to the rest of the group, ready to rally in the necessary direction.

Jansson mounts his horse a little more nimbly than before. After two weeks in the saddle, he's becoming more comfortable with riding these tall beasts. He takes the horse's reins from the Githyanki, and nudges the animal forwards out of Garanasseur's gates and onto the road.

"A good morning to start a journey, I feel." He calls back to his companions. "There's nothing worse than setting out into rain or snow."


(OoC: A nice recap of events so far GW, and sets a pleasantly heroic tone for the start of the next part of our quest.)

Osius

Osius clambers on the back of Snack and knees the steed up with the rest.

Enter Cara'nor

The journey to Cara'nor takes two weeks by horse. The weather is lightening, and the ground is firm; spring is in the air. The land between Garanasseur and Cara'nor is mostly flatland, like most of the rest of the country. A few times you spot small forests or groups of hills, but other than that the terrain is easily traversed.

Around noon of the fourteenth day, you crest a hill - and the smell of the sea greets you. In the distance, a few miles away, lies a great city on the edge of a small bay; great walls of stone and steel surround it, similar to the walls at Garanasseur but much grander. Several large ships of varying construction line the docks, visible at this distance; it looks to be a bustling port city. As you watch, a small ship descends from the clouds and slowly drops down towards the city, landing somewhere within.

"Welcome to Cara'nor," Kloranth says, then nudges his mount forward, heading for the city.

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The gates of the wall are open, and you enter easily; a gnome standing guard on the top of the wall above the gate nods at you as you enter, and takes note of something on a piece of parchment he holds in his hand.

Upon entering, Kloranth dismounts, then looks to the rest of you. "Well, this is where we split up. It's been fun meeting you all. Good luck with your journey." He then leads his mount away into the hustle and bustle of the city, disappearing from sight.

Animus ponders what to do next, without a clue he pauses and waits for guidance from the group.

Osius

Osius looks around curiously at this new city.

"I think our first priority is to get equipped for cold weather. Anyone know this city well enough to find the right places or do we need to ask some guards?"

Guiding her steed in front of the rest of the group Ruth checks her saddlebags and faces her compagnions.

If some of you don't think it too grand an idea, after we find a place to stay for the night I'll be seeing if I can find that airship. Call me crazy but passage on that thing would seem faster and err.... safer perhaps then a seajourney.

Ow.. and by the way. Is there any of the council funds you people could spare? I've got some equipment and other things I'd like to purchase. Last time I was here was a couple of years ago to pick up a shipment of rare metals. So I might be able to find you a couple of shops around here... if they are still around and in the same spaces.

"Well, since we are heading to the nest of a dragon, I say we might want to get some equipment to deal with one."

The grandeur of the city lies before you. It takes a moment to adjust to the sights and sounds, but after the initial confusion passes, you manage to take in some details of the scene before you.

The road you are on is cobbled with many stones, rather than simple dirt as the roads were in Garanasseur. The road forks in front of you, one fork heading north, while the other heads northeast in the direction of the docks. At the fork, a stout two-story building stands, a sign depicting a cloaked figure above a door and bearing the words Restless Wanderer in Common. Buildings line the roads, some single-story, while others are built higher; some of their purposes are easily learned from the wares in windows and doors, though most are unidentifiable from this distance.

A multitude of people walk about on their business, and their sheer numbers are surprising - as is the variety. Elves, githyanki, dwarves, gnomes, goblins, humans... even a few races you can't identify wander the streets, mostly in small groups, some mixing and mingling amongst each other, others hurriedly walking to destinations unknown. Some are dressed in the garb common to Kahasal, while others are dressed in more eclectic clothing that seems similar to what Tori'shel wore. The languages you hear being called out from several merchants' stalls down the northeastern road are generally familiar, though some sound as exotic as the appearance of some of the people walking the streets.

Those passing by you give you a quick appraising eye, though they quickly head on their way without attracting too much undue attention to themselves. Members of smaller races shy away from your group, evidently avoiding the horses.