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Story Hour
Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5589518" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p><strong>We're off to see the Green Witch...</strong></p><p></p><p>The following morning, Alaria was the first to rise. She went downstairs and enjoyed a spiced tea and some fresh bread and honey-butter for her morning meal. It was not the flavor she was used to from R’Hathi spiced tea, but warming and pleasantly aromatic. Coerraine was the next to descend the small staircase and, at Alaria’s instruction, eturned to the second floor to rouse the others. The R’Hathi mage hadn’t even let him order a morning meal first. She was a woman on a mission…and that mission was ending today. They fought a goblin horde that afternoon, so be it. But she was dropping off her package and ending her “apprenticeship” once and for all that morning.</p><p> </p><p> Haelan was the next to bound down the stairs, “bright-eyed and bushy-toed” as the daelvar saying went. His armor and shield were gleaming, pinecone-shaped made at his side, a welcome of “Faerantha’s blessing” on his smiling lips as he entered the inn’s lower/tavern level. He joined Alaria at the table she had chosen and promptly, and sickeningly politely, ordered 3 eggs, 2 sausages, toast and some more of “that wonder honeyed butter” which he simply<em> had</em> to get the recipe for to take back home. Grahm’s daughter, Inya, was busy with the few other patrons having their breakfast, but promised Haelan she would get it for him. She was a lovely dark-curled thing…like Alaria’s color, Haelan noted, but significantly more wavey. She was not much taller than Duor and just beginning to get her “woman’s shape”, probably not more than 13 summers, Haelan supposed offhandedly. </p><p> </p><p> Coerraine returned, his face was rather blanched. Alaria noticed but was unconcerned. Haelan also noticed and, naturally, was concerned. </p><p> </p><p> “Did you see a ghost, Goldshield? I do hope it wasn’t in this lovely place. It is a glory of a morning…and I’ve not had my breaky yet. “ Haelan joked. His jest became real concern when the paladin did not answer. “Coerraine? No ghosts, right?”</p><p> </p><p> The paladin nodded and smiled, “Uh, no, Hilltender. No ghosts.” He waved down Inya for a modest repast of toasted bread, a slab of ham and simple flagon of water. </p><p> </p><p> Braddok followed. Then Erevan. Then Fen. Erevan’s face was stoic, yet “handsome as ever” thought Alaria. Fen had his charming smile and casually greeted the company, hoping they’d all had restful nights. He made a special point of throwing an arm over Coerraine and wishing him, specifically, a good morning. The Redstar Knight frowned at the overture. “As well as any.” was his curt reply, quickly taking a giant-sized bite from his toast.</p><p> </p><p> Duor slowly seemed to “climb” down the stairs. He plopped himself into a seat and ordered “Any dwarvish spirit ye got.” To the questioning looks from several of the assembled group he jokingly retorted, “The spirit’s got to bite back.” <a dwarven colloquialism that roughly translates to “I need some hair of the dog”></p><p> </p><p> Braddok explained to Alaria. R’Hath was not known for having many dwarves and the R’Hathi magess did not at all understand the comment.</p><p> </p><p> The company ate quietly and quickly, since Alaria was finished and ready to go find this cottage of the Green Witch. </p><p> </p><p> They thanked Inya and waved goodbyes to Grahm in the kitchen, promising to see them for lunch.</p><p> </p><p> As they moved through town, they caught several stares and none-too-concealed glances from the people of Welford going about their morning business. Travelers were not unknown to Welford, but such an array of mixed races, with arms, was certainly uncommon. Several curious children giggled and ducked from barrel to corner to alley watching the band walk purposefully through town to the path that turned off in the main road where Constable Bertram had directed them would lead up to the Green Witch’s cottage.</p><p> </p><p> They journeyed for nearly a league, far above and away from the town’s main street. The woods had gotten thicker here and the northern mountain which shielded the valley loomed high in the none-too-far distance. After a couple of hours, they came to a sloping glade, the far end of which revealed a large (but not very) thatched cottage seemingly built into and around the trunk of a great bronzewood tree. </p><p> </p><p> The tree’s leaves were already very golden and Fen mentioned that they would fall within the week. </p><p> </p><p> Alaria, unfaltering, led the troupe up to the arched front door of the domicile. The whole of the company stopped and lurched back, drawing weapons, when a booming voice came from a set of lips that formed above the door as Alaria stepped on the thickly woven “Welcome” mat.</p><p> </p><p> “Leave here! The Green Witch is not home. You may not enter. Come back tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Duor gripped his head, "Gads, not so bloody loud!"</p><p></p><p></p><p> Alaria, initially startled by the voice stepped up to the door again and said defiantly to the lips, “I am Alaria Staver of R’Hath on errand for my master, Vertior. I have come a very long way and would see the Green Which now!”</p><p> </p><p> “Vertior, say you?” replied the lips to everyone’s (including Alaria’s) amazement. “You may enter.” And with that the lips disappeared and the door swung open.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria entered without hesitation, Erevan and Haelan close behind her. Braddok entered and the door swung shut. At this, everyone except Alaria began to panic and Coerraine, in particular, began pounding upon the door.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria moved to one of the windows next to the door and motioned for those outside to relax and calm down. When everyone had stopped, she took stock of her surroundings.</p><p> </p><p> The front room of the cottage was much as she expected. A room like any herbalist or apothecary she had ever seen. Countered and tables full of various beakers, bowls, and pots and pans. An array of dried or drying herbs lined the rafters of the ceiling. She recognized most of the plants as being useful for various medicines and potion making. A doorway, with no door, led to another room beyond the one they were in. </p><p> </p><p> Haelan made the sign of protection of his goddess when he came across a row of various animal skulls and bones assembled in many different patterns. “Alaria?” the Halfling asked quietly, “I really had thought before, but…this Green Witch of Welford…she’s a <em>good </em>witch, isn’t she?”</p><p> </p><p> Alaria examined some writing on the parchments strewn across one table with a marble mortar and pestle upon it and replied offhandedly, “Of course she is, Haelan. My master would not send me into harm’s way.”</p><p> </p><p> “Any more than he already has?” asked Braddok. Alaria looked to the warrior without humor in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p> “Hello? Rhea? Are you here?” called the wizard.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria and Erevan noted the charge in the air…magic was afoot.</p><p> </p><p> Suddenly, before and above their heads green light flashed then swirled and eventually took form. The form settled on that of a lovely woman, with long dark brown hair, straight and thick, like Alaria’s. The visage had large brown eyes with long dark lashes and arching brows. The appearance of an emerald green teardrop sat directly in the center of her brows and the whole of the face was surrounded by a bright green glow.</p><p> </p><p> “Alaria.” The face said. “Vertior said you would be arriving. Give me a moment.” And the face disappeared.</p><p> </p><p> Even Alaria was unsure how to proceed. “Don’t touch anything!” she hissed at Haelan who was reaching toward one of the bushels of herbs.</p><p> </p><p> A few moments later, a figure emerged from (what they presumed to be) the back room of the cottage. It was a, presumably, human woman shrouded in a bright, emerald green, high-collared cloak and gown. She had a youthful face…looking no older than Alaria, herself. She wore, most notably, a golden diadem that had at it’s center a teardrop shaped emerald that dangled in the center of her brow.</p><p> </p><p> “Welcome, my dear. Well met.” She said with the same alto voice that had addressed them moments before. “I trust the road was not too difficult, Alaria Staver of Ablidon. ”</p><p> </p><p> “Greetings, Rhea of Welford. I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I must confess, I am a bit surprised. The townsfolk indicated you were not here.” Alaria began. She added, “The road was…a bit inhospitable for my tastes, I must admit.”</p><p> </p><p> “Well, yes. I know.” She motioned to a kettle on a grate that sat over a pile of kindling. The wood sparked into a fire. “Can I you or your company some tea?”</p><p> </p><p> “None for me, thanks.” Answered Haelan. Leaning over to Erevan, the halfling added, "Well, she's not green."</p><p></p><p> </p><p>"No, she most definitely is not." replied the warrior, somewhat spellbound by the woman's beauty.</p><p></p><p></p><p> Rhea smiled at the daelvar cleric.</p><p> </p><p> “Braddok Kar Barforth?” the lovely woman said turning to the warrior.</p><p> </p><p> “How do you know my name?” answered the swordsman. He had all faith in Alaria and understood that “magic happens” but he was uneasy with this admittedly lovely figure knowing him.</p><p> </p><p> Rhea chuckled softly but did not answer.. She collected some small wooden cups near the kettle. “I am sorry we couldn’t help as much as we would have liked.”</p><p> </p><p> “Wha…?” began Braddok before Rhea cut him off.</p><p> </p><p> “I understand you have a package for me, my dear?” she said looking sidelong to Alaria.</p><p> </p><p> Snapped into attention by the direct address, “I, uh, yes.” Alaria fumbled for her scroll case and withdrew the small folded parchment. “Master Vertior bade me deliver this to you….Oh!” she reached into the case again, “Along with this message.” Alaria handed over the rolled up scroll and parchment square.</p><p> </p><p> “My thanks Alaria of Ablidon. You have done your master proud. ” Rhea lifted the top of the kettle and pinched a few fingerfuls of some dried herb into a small metal ball which she then dropped into the kettle. She cauight Alaria's eyes directly, with a knowing look, “And Vertior is rarely proud.” She smiled. “Would your friends outside care for any tea?”</p><p> </p><p> The door unlatched and swung part of the way open. The remainder of the company stood outside, looking unsure. Alaria waved them to enter and passed on Rhea’s offer of tea.</p><p> </p><p> All declined as politely as they could. Duor and Coerraine opted to not enter the cottage at all.</p><p> </p><p> “I assue you, gentlefolk. I have no plans to harm you.” Rhea assured. "Welford is a place of peace and rest. I would not see it otherwise."</p><p></p><p> </p><p> “You still haven’t told us why the townsfolk think you’re ‘missing’.” Braddok asserted.</p><p> </p><p> Rhea calmly poured four cups of tea as she answered Braddok’s inquiry, “My comings and goings are not the townsfolk’s concern….” She looked sidelong at the swordsman, “which I am sure they told you.”</p><p> </p><p> She handed a cup to Erevan and Haelan, Alaria, walked passed Braddok, and handed the last cup to Fen. She returned to the kettle and poured herself a cup.</p><p> </p><p> “It is not my place, lady,” Alaria said, “But I have come a very long way and survived many trials. Might you share what it is I have risked life and limb for to deliver unto you?”</p><p> </p><p> “And is it something we can use against the goblins?” Haelan added.</p><p> </p><p> “Goblins?” Rhea said, turning to the halfling in mild surprise.</p><p></p><p></p><p>She looked to the rest of the party and then spoke again, “Ah. I see. I fear not, friend hairfoot.”</p><p></p><p></p><p>Without another word, she broke the seal of the parchment square and unfolded it, letting the contents slide into her palm. It appeared to be a thick ring of smooth grey stone. A moment in her hand and it expanded to the size of a bracelet. Rhea held the stone circle up to her eye and peered through the hole at the party. She smiled.</p><p> </p><p> “What is it?” asked the ever-inquisitive Alaria. “I’ve never seen such a device.”</p><p> </p><p> “It is a mode of divination, my dear.” Rhea said as if this were explanation enough. “You must return at Sorilorr’s height and I will show you…and you, master Erevan.”</p><p> </p><p> With their travails, Alaria had not really been noting the moons’ movements and realized, almost second nature, that the lesser moon, Sorilorr, would be full that evening. </p><p> </p><p> “My apologies, lady,” said Erevan, “but do you know me?”</p><p> </p><p> Rhea smiled again. “My dears, I am the Green Witch of Welford. I know many things.” The cryptic sorceress took a sip of her tea. She continued before any more questions could be made, “You are welcome to Welford, one and all. Now go rest yourself. I know your journey has been long.”</p><p> </p><p> The party chose to accept this “invitation” to leave. On her way out, Rhea said over Alaria’s shoulder, “You have done well, Magess Alaria.”</p><p> </p><p> The R’Hathi wizard stopped momentarily in the frame of the doorway and a broad grin formed on her face.</p><p> </p><p> On the way back to the town, the smile still upon her face, Duor asked why she grinned so. </p><p> </p><p> “I am free.” Said Alaria.</p><p> </p><p> The Green Witch had addressed her as “Magess”, the full acknowledgement of a fully trained magic-user, free of any apprenticeship, a spell-caster in her own right not subject to any other. Alaria felt she might float through the hills on her joy. She was her own wizard to do as she pleased for the first time.</p><p> </p><p> Her elation would not last long, but for the remainder of that day, Alaria felt as though she were the Archmagus Imerius, himself.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 5589518, member: 92511"] [b]We're off to see the Green Witch...[/b] The following morning, Alaria was the first to rise. She went downstairs and enjoyed a spiced tea and some fresh bread and honey-butter for her morning meal. It was not the flavor she was used to from R’Hathi spiced tea, but warming and pleasantly aromatic. Coerraine was the next to descend the small staircase and, at Alaria’s instruction, eturned to the second floor to rouse the others. The R’Hathi mage hadn’t even let him order a morning meal first. She was a woman on a mission…and that mission was ending today. They fought a goblin horde that afternoon, so be it. But she was dropping off her package and ending her “apprenticeship” once and for all that morning. Haelan was the next to bound down the stairs, “bright-eyed and bushy-toed” as the daelvar saying went. His armor and shield were gleaming, pinecone-shaped made at his side, a welcome of “Faerantha’s blessing” on his smiling lips as he entered the inn’s lower/tavern level. He joined Alaria at the table she had chosen and promptly, and sickeningly politely, ordered 3 eggs, 2 sausages, toast and some more of “that wonder honeyed butter” which he simply[I] had[/I] to get the recipe for to take back home. Grahm’s daughter, Inya, was busy with the few other patrons having their breakfast, but promised Haelan she would get it for him. She was a lovely dark-curled thing…like Alaria’s color, Haelan noted, but significantly more wavey. She was not much taller than Duor and just beginning to get her “woman’s shape”, probably not more than 13 summers, Haelan supposed offhandedly. Coerraine returned, his face was rather blanched. Alaria noticed but was unconcerned. Haelan also noticed and, naturally, was concerned. “Did you see a ghost, Goldshield? I do hope it wasn’t in this lovely place. It is a glory of a morning…and I’ve not had my breaky yet. “ Haelan joked. His jest became real concern when the paladin did not answer. “Coerraine? No ghosts, right?” The paladin nodded and smiled, “Uh, no, Hilltender. No ghosts.” He waved down Inya for a modest repast of toasted bread, a slab of ham and simple flagon of water. Braddok followed. Then Erevan. Then Fen. Erevan’s face was stoic, yet “handsome as ever” thought Alaria. Fen had his charming smile and casually greeted the company, hoping they’d all had restful nights. He made a special point of throwing an arm over Coerraine and wishing him, specifically, a good morning. The Redstar Knight frowned at the overture. “As well as any.” was his curt reply, quickly taking a giant-sized bite from his toast. Duor slowly seemed to “climb” down the stairs. He plopped himself into a seat and ordered “Any dwarvish spirit ye got.” To the questioning looks from several of the assembled group he jokingly retorted, “The spirit’s got to bite back.” <a dwarven colloquialism that roughly translates to “I need some hair of the dog”> Braddok explained to Alaria. R’Hath was not known for having many dwarves and the R’Hathi magess did not at all understand the comment. The company ate quietly and quickly, since Alaria was finished and ready to go find this cottage of the Green Witch. They thanked Inya and waved goodbyes to Grahm in the kitchen, promising to see them for lunch. As they moved through town, they caught several stares and none-too-concealed glances from the people of Welford going about their morning business. Travelers were not unknown to Welford, but such an array of mixed races, with arms, was certainly uncommon. Several curious children giggled and ducked from barrel to corner to alley watching the band walk purposefully through town to the path that turned off in the main road where Constable Bertram had directed them would lead up to the Green Witch’s cottage. They journeyed for nearly a league, far above and away from the town’s main street. The woods had gotten thicker here and the northern mountain which shielded the valley loomed high in the none-too-far distance. After a couple of hours, they came to a sloping glade, the far end of which revealed a large (but not very) thatched cottage seemingly built into and around the trunk of a great bronzewood tree. The tree’s leaves were already very golden and Fen mentioned that they would fall within the week. Alaria, unfaltering, led the troupe up to the arched front door of the domicile. The whole of the company stopped and lurched back, drawing weapons, when a booming voice came from a set of lips that formed above the door as Alaria stepped on the thickly woven “Welcome” mat. “Leave here! The Green Witch is not home. You may not enter. Come back tomorrow.” Duor gripped his head, "Gads, not so bloody loud!" Alaria, initially startled by the voice stepped up to the door again and said defiantly to the lips, “I am Alaria Staver of R’Hath on errand for my master, Vertior. I have come a very long way and would see the Green Which now!” “Vertior, say you?” replied the lips to everyone’s (including Alaria’s) amazement. “You may enter.” And with that the lips disappeared and the door swung open. Alaria entered without hesitation, Erevan and Haelan close behind her. Braddok entered and the door swung shut. At this, everyone except Alaria began to panic and Coerraine, in particular, began pounding upon the door. Alaria moved to one of the windows next to the door and motioned for those outside to relax and calm down. When everyone had stopped, she took stock of her surroundings. The front room of the cottage was much as she expected. A room like any herbalist or apothecary she had ever seen. Countered and tables full of various beakers, bowls, and pots and pans. An array of dried or drying herbs lined the rafters of the ceiling. She recognized most of the plants as being useful for various medicines and potion making. A doorway, with no door, led to another room beyond the one they were in. Haelan made the sign of protection of his goddess when he came across a row of various animal skulls and bones assembled in many different patterns. “Alaria?” the Halfling asked quietly, “I really had thought before, but…this Green Witch of Welford…she’s a [I]good [/I]witch, isn’t she?” Alaria examined some writing on the parchments strewn across one table with a marble mortar and pestle upon it and replied offhandedly, “Of course she is, Haelan. My master would not send me into harm’s way.” “Any more than he already has?” asked Braddok. Alaria looked to the warrior without humor in her eyes. “Hello? Rhea? Are you here?” called the wizard. Alaria and Erevan noted the charge in the air…magic was afoot. Suddenly, before and above their heads green light flashed then swirled and eventually took form. The form settled on that of a lovely woman, with long dark brown hair, straight and thick, like Alaria’s. The visage had large brown eyes with long dark lashes and arching brows. The appearance of an emerald green teardrop sat directly in the center of her brows and the whole of the face was surrounded by a bright green glow. “Alaria.” The face said. “Vertior said you would be arriving. Give me a moment.” And the face disappeared. Even Alaria was unsure how to proceed. “Don’t touch anything!” she hissed at Haelan who was reaching toward one of the bushels of herbs. A few moments later, a figure emerged from (what they presumed to be) the back room of the cottage. It was a, presumably, human woman shrouded in a bright, emerald green, high-collared cloak and gown. She had a youthful face…looking no older than Alaria, herself. She wore, most notably, a golden diadem that had at it’s center a teardrop shaped emerald that dangled in the center of her brow. “Welcome, my dear. Well met.” She said with the same alto voice that had addressed them moments before. “I trust the road was not too difficult, Alaria Staver of Ablidon. ” “Greetings, Rhea of Welford. I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I must confess, I am a bit surprised. The townsfolk indicated you were not here.” Alaria began. She added, “The road was…a bit inhospitable for my tastes, I must admit.” “Well, yes. I know.” She motioned to a kettle on a grate that sat over a pile of kindling. The wood sparked into a fire. “Can I you or your company some tea?” “None for me, thanks.” Answered Haelan. Leaning over to Erevan, the halfling added, "Well, she's not green." "No, she most definitely is not." replied the warrior, somewhat spellbound by the woman's beauty. Rhea smiled at the daelvar cleric. “Braddok Kar Barforth?” the lovely woman said turning to the warrior. “How do you know my name?” answered the swordsman. He had all faith in Alaria and understood that “magic happens” but he was uneasy with this admittedly lovely figure knowing him. Rhea chuckled softly but did not answer.. She collected some small wooden cups near the kettle. “I am sorry we couldn’t help as much as we would have liked.” “Wha…?” began Braddok before Rhea cut him off. “I understand you have a package for me, my dear?” she said looking sidelong to Alaria. Snapped into attention by the direct address, “I, uh, yes.” Alaria fumbled for her scroll case and withdrew the small folded parchment. “Master Vertior bade me deliver this to you….Oh!” she reached into the case again, “Along with this message.” Alaria handed over the rolled up scroll and parchment square. “My thanks Alaria of Ablidon. You have done your master proud. ” Rhea lifted the top of the kettle and pinched a few fingerfuls of some dried herb into a small metal ball which she then dropped into the kettle. She cauight Alaria's eyes directly, with a knowing look, “And Vertior is rarely proud.” She smiled. “Would your friends outside care for any tea?” The door unlatched and swung part of the way open. The remainder of the company stood outside, looking unsure. Alaria waved them to enter and passed on Rhea’s offer of tea. All declined as politely as they could. Duor and Coerraine opted to not enter the cottage at all. “I assue you, gentlefolk. I have no plans to harm you.” Rhea assured. "Welford is a place of peace and rest. I would not see it otherwise." “You still haven’t told us why the townsfolk think you’re ‘missing’.” Braddok asserted. Rhea calmly poured four cups of tea as she answered Braddok’s inquiry, “My comings and goings are not the townsfolk’s concern….” She looked sidelong at the swordsman, “which I am sure they told you.” She handed a cup to Erevan and Haelan, Alaria, walked passed Braddok, and handed the last cup to Fen. She returned to the kettle and poured herself a cup. “It is not my place, lady,” Alaria said, “But I have come a very long way and survived many trials. Might you share what it is I have risked life and limb for to deliver unto you?” “And is it something we can use against the goblins?” Haelan added. “Goblins?” Rhea said, turning to the halfling in mild surprise. She looked to the rest of the party and then spoke again, “Ah. I see. I fear not, friend hairfoot.” Without another word, she broke the seal of the parchment square and unfolded it, letting the contents slide into her palm. It appeared to be a thick ring of smooth grey stone. A moment in her hand and it expanded to the size of a bracelet. Rhea held the stone circle up to her eye and peered through the hole at the party. She smiled. “What is it?” asked the ever-inquisitive Alaria. “I’ve never seen such a device.” “It is a mode of divination, my dear.” Rhea said as if this were explanation enough. “You must return at Sorilorr’s height and I will show you…and you, master Erevan.” With their travails, Alaria had not really been noting the moons’ movements and realized, almost second nature, that the lesser moon, Sorilorr, would be full that evening. “My apologies, lady,” said Erevan, “but do you know me?” Rhea smiled again. “My dears, I am the Green Witch of Welford. I know many things.” The cryptic sorceress took a sip of her tea. She continued before any more questions could be made, “You are welcome to Welford, one and all. Now go rest yourself. I know your journey has been long.” The party chose to accept this “invitation” to leave. On her way out, Rhea said over Alaria’s shoulder, “You have done well, Magess Alaria.” The R’Hathi wizard stopped momentarily in the frame of the doorway and a broad grin formed on her face. On the way back to the town, the smile still upon her face, Duor asked why she grinned so. “I am free.” Said Alaria. The Green Witch had addressed her as “Magess”, the full acknowledgement of a fully trained magic-user, free of any apprenticeship, a spell-caster in her own right not subject to any other. Alaria felt she might float through the hills on her joy. She was her own wizard to do as she pleased for the first time. Her elation would not last long, but for the remainder of that day, Alaria felt as though she were the Archmagus Imerius, himself. [/QUOTE]
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