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Story Hour
The Ballad of Hal Whitewyrm
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<blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 5686623" data-attributes="member: 100"><p><u><p style="text-align: center">GM:</p><p></u>Everyone gulps their wine and lets out a cheer.</p><p></p><p>Seats are grabbed up, stew is passed around, a goat is served and ale is poured. The meal is a loud, raucous family affair. The Hunt is an entirely human company, with one illusionist-wizard, three priests and the rest are a blend of thugs, warriors and cutpurses.</p><p></p><p>You catch references to other adventures: a series of connected Barrows in Sembia, a goblin warren in Cormyr and quickly changing the subject when Archendale is brought up.</p><p></p><p>Questions come and go easily, the company relaxes and puts away issues of rank and seniority during meals, it seems.</p><p></p><p>Shasslan the Huntress: “You spoke of adventuring with some fondness, Master Whitewyrm. Are you a part of a company in the Dalelands or is it a life that you look at from the outside?”</p><p></p><p>Orlin the Illusionist: “May I ask what interested you about that particular tapestry, Lord Elf?”</p><p></p><p>Nasharel is embroiled in a conversation about the dragon attacks two winters back, trading stories about where everyone was when the tragedy occur and considering theories about how the attacks were orchestrated and their deeper meaning.</p><p></p><p>Rather than back and forth, you post some questions and conversation seeds, I’ll post some questions and in the end, what we have might resemble a conversation, rather than posting back and forth and trying to talk over the forum.</p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">Player:</p><p></u>“Adventuring was something that fell upon me by the whim of Beshaba,” I say to Shasslan. “In truth I have been a sedentary man only this past year, finally arriving at the hometown of my mother after what feels like a lifetime on the road. Before this, I, we, spent a few years as swords-for-hire in Raven’s Bluff. I tell you, throw a rock in that city and you’ll hit no less than twenty adventurers!” I say with a laugh, signaling for more wine to be poured in my mug.</p><p></p><p>“Still, it kept us fed and warm through the winters. And before that… Well, life on the road,” I mumble into my mug, taking a couple of deep swigs of wine, catching myself before saying too much. “But not, I seem to have stumbled into a new company that sets out into the forest soon enough, so I dine well here today, for who knows what fare the road will bring.”</p><p></p><p>“What about you all?” I ask Shasslan in return. “Where are you headed? Your master haggler spoke of spending winters in warmth but also of return trips into the ruins, so what is it?”</p><p></p><p>A few mugs of wine later…</p><p></p><p>“I am no Lord, Master Orlin, neither am I Elf. I am of two worlds, Elf and Human, and proud of both. As for the tapestry, well, now that I own it I can put aside all cheap talk about weave quality and all that.</p><p></p><p>“The truth is that the scene fascinates me. I have a personal interest in the history of the elven clans of the Cormanthor even as they begin to journey west, and this tapestry is too great a find to not have done all in my power to acquire. It isn’t every day you come across a part of the history of Clan Whitewyrm! I say, I should love to know the story of how that tapestry was recovered from the… wait, Master Blackhand, how did you put it? Ah yes… from the CLUTCHES OF VILE HYENA MEN WHO WORSHIPED A DEMON-GOD OF BLOOD AND MURDER!”</p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">GM:</p><p></u>Shasslan: "The Blackhand talks too much, I think. We are in fact going out into the Cormanthor one more time, hoping to make it to Myth Drannor and back before the winter becomes deadly.</p><p></p><p>“As to dry and safe, I’m afraid that isn’t for us, necessarily but for our goods. Frankly, we have more than we can carry but not quite enough to purchase a proper Chapter House. So, we are renting a warehouse to store our goods, leaving some old veterans with a deck of cards, money for food and a few crossbows.”</p><p></p><p>Orlin: "Well, its a damned queer tale, I’ll tell you. The gnoll pack we tracked on our way south out of the Myth. We’d already had a nice haul from that spring delving, Tymora blessed us on that trip.</p><p></p><p>“We broke the first rule of adventuring and split the party, Captain’s idea, of course. The fastest of us, the ones who are no strangers to the forest took off after the gnolls while the rest got settled in a defensive position around our Myth Drannor treasures.</p><p></p><p>“Lost two henchmen, though, a shame, really; they were good lads. Damned gnolls would not rout. Turns out when the hyena-men panic, they attack, so even when we had them down to a few, there was no surrender, had to butcher ‘em. Felt like we were doing Bhaal’s dirty work than Tempus’ killing when you have to take to slaughtering enemies like that. Bastards would not rout! Powers above and powers below…just run when yer beat.</p><p></p><p>Buried the boys, there, as per the charter states: ‘We bury our dead where they died, as long as it does not endanger the still-living to do so’ about two days ride south of the Standing Stone."</p><p></p><p>With a mouth full of sweet potato, a henchmen named Kiv says, “Those gnolls were as strange as a Waterdahavian doxy on a festival day. I tell ya, something was odd.”</p><p></p><p>The illusionist grows quiet, trying to put thoughts of their drooling fangs and armor-crunching flails behind him.</p><p></p><p>Kiv continues, “No slaves, no one to sacrifice, with elven goods?” Kiv finishes chewing and continues. “Did anyone decode that parchment they had with ’em?”</p><p></p><p>Shasslan shakes her head. “No and a good thing. It looked like Zhent-code to me.”</p><p></p><p>Shasslan asks, “Who are you joining up with? I didn’t know there were that many other companies in town at the moment. What grand adventure do you have planned?”</p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">Player:</p><p></u>“Master Orlinn, that is a most queer tale, I say. I know of the ferocity of the gnolls but to learn these so vicious they would not rout when beaten, that is indeed odd. Foul magics of the forest, perhaps? Some after-effect of a Myth Drannan curse? I shall keep your words in my ears as I journey north.</p><p></p><p>“Which, to answer your question, Dame Shasslan, we shall do with a newly chartered company, the Knights of Highmoon. My cousin, Nethanel, Archivist of Oghma, leads it. We number five, though due to family issues my beloved and I are not full members just yet. My cousin, he’s interested in exploring clues to a pre-elven civilization in Cormanthyr. I go in order to seek more information on Clan Whitewyrm and perhaps a lead to my elven heritage and family.</p><p></p><p>“To family, the one given us by the gods and the one we chose ourselves,” I say, raising another toast.</p><p></p><p>“Something caught my attention, I must say. You mentioned a parchment with Zhentish code?” I sneer the word as if it were sour milk in my mouth.</p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">Player:</p><p></u>Master Orlin shakes his head. “Having asked around, the oddity is not in their inability to run. They are berserkers, it seems, given unholy strength by their demon-god of murder and prone to attack where most folk would stand and drool, beg for mercy or run. The oddity is that they would be transporting elven goods across the Cormanthor. I’m sorry, my emotional state when discussing such matters made my point muddled and unclear.”</p><p></p><p>Shasslan’s eyes narrow when you bring up your cousin and his adventuring party. “I hate to get between a family squabble but I would certainly put in a bid to buy your services from your cousin, take you on as provisional members with a charter vote in a year’s time concerning full membership. In five years, you could be officers, or sooner, Tempus willing.”</p><p></p><p>She continues, "As to the Zhents, yes, I believe they have put out a coded message among the orcs’ Servants of the Black Blood and the gnolls’ demon-god priests. I meant to burn it but also thought I might see if I could get it translated but have not had any luck in that matter and wonder if I should just destroy it so that it does not fall into the wrong hands. You have experience with the Zhentarim?</p><p></p><p>“If you were to join our band, the decoding of that message could be your first job for The Hunt if you can get it done before we leave for Myth Drannor.</p><p></p><p>Voices hush when she says this, a hint as to when they are leaving. She notices and raises her voice just a touch, "That is right Huntsmen, and Hunts-women. We are leaving for the Myth at dawn. I have given no indication because I didn’t want our enemies to know and you lot keep secrets like a pack of drunk sailors.</p><p></p><p>“Someone get the Blackhand off the barrel so he can eat and so that he can see the completion of the tapestry he sold. Vorass, you are welcome to join us in the sitting room too; you were there. The rest of you, I want us packed and ready to go at first light with no indication that we were ever here but the inn-keepers fat coffers and empty larder. I want officers close-by, no father away than the inn’s grounds. Those assigned to the maps, our way into the Myth should be planned and ready to go; I’ll hear your plan as soon as our guests take their leave and I want more emergency exit paths than last time, taking what we know now into account.</p><p></p><p>“Heldorm, anything else?”</p><p></p><p>Heldorm barks like a sergeant, “No more throwing knives at the damned out-house, you devil-dogs! What is wrong with ya’s?”</p><p></p><p>Stools are pushed back from their tables quickly as The Hunt’s members are off to their tasks.</p><p></p><p>The Huntress stands and pats her full belly, “Won’t be eating that well for a while. Will you join us in the sitting room so that we can conclude our deal, or, if tempted by my offer, discuss both of your initiations?”</p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">Player:</p><p></u>To Orlin: “Wait, what would bloodthirsty gnolls be doing transporting elven goods? What do they care in the first place? This is most foul indeed.”</p><p></p><p>As Shasslan calls the party to order and issues her message and commands, I ponder a few things. It is indeed most strange to find gnolls engaged in transportation of goods. It is safe to assume they did so under something/someone’s command, but what/who, and to what end? And Shasslan’s offer! The Hunt is heading also into the forest, into the elven areas, right where I want to go as well. They offer a fair deal, and would save me dealing with my kinsman’s delicate ego. And this Zhentish code, to boot. So much to ponder…</p><p></p><p>As the members of the Hunt file off to make preparations, I take Nasharel’s hand and follow Shasslan and her people into the sitting room to conclude tonight’s business. Once we are comfortably seated, I break the ice at the first opportunity.</p><p></p><p>“Dame Shasslan, first things first.” I present her with the small coffer that holds the 500 gold agreed for the tapestry in a combination of high-value coins, gems, and a couple of solid gold figurines. "It was all counted and measured three times, but please do feel free to make sure the tally is correct. I admit I wanted to have paid a lot less than this, but I am satisfied with my purchase and pleased that this money will be spent well by your group.</p><p></p><p>“Your offer to join The Hunt is a most tempting one, Shasslan. A most tempting one indeed. I do not know you of old, but what I have seen here tonight speaks of great leadership, strong bonds among the members, of honorable pursuit of the trade. I do not doubt for a second that our contributions would be heard and appreciated as if we had spent years together, that we’d be respected and valued. To feel thusly about a group known only for a few strikes of the bell is a great testament to the integrity of the individuals that make up the whole.”</p><p></p><p>I pause a moment, weighing my decision one last time, feeling the pull between my conviction that family is a priority and my acquired instinct to go for the highest bidder. Do I have the luxury to follow my belief to the end? Can I forgo being mercenary once and for all?</p><p></p><p>I hope I’m making the right decision…</p><p></p><p>“Which is why it is honestly painful for me to have to decline your offer, at least at the moment. My word is bond, and my word was given to my cousin already. As much as my kinsman is a true pompous ass sometimes, as much as I know I am going to exercise control and restraint along the way lest I reply in kind or worse, as much as all that is true, it is also true that he is family, the only blood-kin I have right now, and family is something I feel one must fight for. I must stay true to my word.</p><p></p><p>“That said, I would still like to take a stab at deciphering that Zhentish code you encountered. I have a personal vendetta against Zhentil Keep and anything I can do to help destroy their plans and schemes I would do gladly. Perhaps you’d consider it still to our favor should we meet in the future and joining The Hunt was something feasible to do then. Does that sound good to you?”</p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">GM:</p><p></u>Before you go to the sitting room with Shasslan, Blackhand and Vorass, Orlin the Illusionist grabs your shoulder, “Its the oldest mystery in adventuring, who is behind the brutes and what do they really want? The problem is, if you follow that trail, it will lead you away from treasure and into the demon-web pits are worse. I’m not saying drow are behind this, I’m saying its that old adventuring cautionary tale, where the giants were being armed and given guidance by the underdark. If you choose to follow that, be careful and whatever you decide in that room, it was a pleasure. Don’t be a stranger.”</p><p></p><p>The sitting room has a small fireplace and several wooden chairs with well worn, over-stuffed pillows.</p><p></p><p>Shassland offers Moonshae whiskey or tea while Heldorm counts every gold, silver and copper you scraped together. Blackhand is pleased to be in the sitting room with two of the founding officers. Vorass has more experience with mercenary units. The warrior is watching carefully, noting their interactions, knowing that important information is being relayed here should she ever want to be an officer in this company. Pleased with the tally, Heldorm smiles and leaves to put the money somewhere safe after entering the transaction in the company’s financial journal.</p><p></p><p>Shasslan gestures towards the tapestry, rolled up and learning in the corner of the room and says, "It is yours, as agreed and here is a rough map that shows where we met those gnolls, just south of the Standing Stones, heading north as if their demon-god’s whips were on their hides.</p><p></p><p>She hears you state your commitment to your cousin.</p><p></p><p>“That makes perfect sense to me. To be perfectly honest, we’ve grown too big too fast but I’ve learned to trust my gut and my gut said to make the offer. Good luck with your adventures. As to joining us later, if we have room, we’d love to have you with us.</p><p></p><p>“Unfortunately, I cannot hand over Zhent code, in fear that something could happen to it under your care and it might fall into evil hands.</p><p></p><p>“I was a sailor growing up and I found out that a boat I worked on was secretly a Zhentarim scouting ship. My actions or lack thereof can never unwittingly do their work ever again. When we have some more time in the Dalelands, I plan on putting a small group together, perhaps with Blackhand here, to find out the meaning of this code. For now, though, it stays in The Hunt.”</p><p></p><p>Blackhand nods, honored and his captain continues. "If we are both back in Highmoon, perhaps we could pool our resources and seek the code’s meaning together but for the fall, I’m afraid the code stays with me.</p><p></p><p>“If things go poorly for your company, make for the Standing Stone. The elven magicks there keep all but the most puissant evils at bay and if you can hold there long enough, we will camp there both on our way into Myth Drannor and on our way back and would gladly help you in your hour of need. Cormanthor is ancient and contains pockets far darker than anyone would like to admit. My you be kissed by Lady Luck’s blessings and walk strong in the armor of the Foehammer”</p><p></p><p>“Is this it? Good-bye and good luck, then?” Blackhand asks. Blackhand, Vorass and Shasslan look at you and Nasharel, ready to say their polite farewells.</p><p></p><p><em>Do you want to Duel of Wits or try to Persuade her (Persuade, ob 4 and I’d let you FoRK in Slavery-wise as long as you add a bit about your history in with the execution of the persuasion) to give you a glimpse at the Zhent-code or take your leave? And of course, never think that when I present you with a choice that is your only choice. There are plenty of other ways, feel free to discuss other options.</em></p><p></p><p><em>Let me know when you want to take a good look at the tapestry, it tells a story I want to convey to you about the Whitewyrm family history. If you want to write about where and how you lay it out, I’d like to write about what it teaches you.</em></p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">Player:</p><p></u>I shake Orlin’s hand strongly and promise to not be a stranger indeed before heading into the sitting room.</p><p></p><p>I gladly take the offered Moonshae whiskey; it is a rarity in these parts and I openly praise their good taste and generosity.</p><p></p><p><em>(I am going to attempt to persuade Shasslan to at least let me see the code now, assuming she has it on her. I do not have Persuade so my ob is 8; even with my Slavery-wise FoRK it is an impossible task. Nevertheless, I will put it forth if only to start the process of opening it.)</em></p><p></p><p>“Dame Shasslan, I fear you misunderstood my words. I would never request to be entrusted with such a document while not being a member of your company. It would be disrespectful and rude of me, so my apologies if I implied that.</p><p></p><p>“What I did mean, however, is that if you happen to have it on your person, I would ask your indulgence in have a look at it. I realize I am asking you to trust me far beyond what our few hours together would deem prudent, but let me tell my tale and you will understand my interest better.</p><p></p><p>“I begin by stressing that, beyond my beloved Nasharel here, no one, not even my cousin knows this tale. I would ask your prudence with my life’s story.</p><p></p><p>“As I mentioned to Master Orlin earlier tonight, I am Half-Elf. My father was an Elf of the Cormanthor but my mother was a human woman from Highmoon. My mother was captured by slavers and sold to a Zhentish wizard. It was in that oppressive state that I was born. I grew up in the dark caves under Zhentil Keep, one of the few to survive childhood in chains. I do not wish to recount all the horrible things I lived through and witnessed, for I do not think there is anyone here who hasn’t at least heard stories of Zhentish slavery. Suffice to say every story I have heard has paled when compared to the reality I lived.</p><p></p><p>“I bear scars that will be with me till my mortal death from those days, but none more painful than the death of my mother. She sacrificed herself in order for Nasharel and I to escape. When I close my eyes… I can still see her screaming at us to run, run and run until you can run no more, then run more still.</p><p></p><p>“As I told you earlier, family is paramount to me, and for the same reason I would put up with my cousin’s inflated ego and tasteless taunts, I would one day seek Xerez the Mad and put an end to his life; I swore this on my mother’s life, just as I sword that he would only be the first of many more Zhentarim to fall by my hand.</p><p></p><p>“This is why I ask to perhaps have a look. I may not be able to help you at all, but maybe, who knows, maybe I can give you something that will help you. Help us. If not, I fully understand and bear no ill will whatsoever. Whether you show me the parchment or not, I will keep your offer firmly in mind, for there will be a reckoning coming to Zhentil Keep and firm allies are joyously welcomed.”</p><p></p><p><em>(Persuade Roll: 2d6 = 4[d6]+5[d6])</em></p><p></p><p><em>Regardless of what happens next, after tonight’s events we go back home and that’s when I unroll the tapestry and have my first glimpse at the complete piece.</em></p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">GM:</p><p></u>Shasslan’s face grows grim. “Blackhand, summon the officers.”</p><p></p><p>Blackhand blinks for a moment and runs from the room, just as he did as a boy on the streets of Ravens Bluff, running messages back and forth between thieves and thief-catchers, merchants and craftsfolk, sailors and carpenters. They have not gone far; it doesn’t take him long.</p><p></p><p>The first to enter is the illusionist and then the three priests of Tempus, already in their ragged, holy battle-armor. The last officer is Heldorm.</p><p></p><p>While they enter Shasslan is silent. She takes a shot of whiskey, pours another, drinks it and begins. Heldorm draws the curtains closed and Orlin casts a spell while the Huntress speaks, a sound-based illusion to keep eavesdroppers from listening.</p><p></p><p>“I grew up as a sailor on the Sea of Fallen Stars. It was not until I was a woman-grown that I understood what it was that my ship did. Ours was a scouting ship, identifying weak villages for Zhentarim slavers. I vowed to have my revenge but I knew that taking the fight to Zhentil Keep would be no small endeavor and I was only a marine with a wicked reputation for having killed her own father and burned her ship to into the sea.</p><p></p><p>“The time between then and now is just details, what is important is that the Powers brought us here. The Hunt is a group made for one purpose: the fall of Zhentil Keep. We watch our candidates, henchmen, hirelings and hangers-on very carefully. If we find that you are not a worthy candidate or that you have no passion for what will eventually become our work, we pass you over for promotion and edge you out of the company, foster you to another company with a less ambitious goal.</p><p></p><p>“Our goal is the fall of Zhentil Keep. That is our hunt. Everyone here, Vorass and Blackhand included have good reason to fight the Zhents and from the way you said their name over dinner, I could tell you’d had experience with them but I had no idea how deeply they had hurt you.</p><p></p><p>“We are amassing a fortune so that we might fight the Zhentarim. War is expensive work.</p><p></p><p>“Our priests have been having visions for weeks and I believe those visions concerned the two of you. This is destiny.</p><p></p><p>“Now I will do something unprecedented; I will ask again. I asked you earlier in hopes that we might have time to feel you out and see if you are a fit for our organization. Now my offer is more aggressive. Join now and you will both walk into officer positions in the Hunt and join a conspiracy to burn Zhentil Keep to the ground and send its occupants straight to the Hells.”</p><p></p><p>From Vorass’ face, you can tell she had an inkling but Laelin looks shocked. The rest of the officers have gathered around.</p><p></p><p>“I’m so sorry, Song of my Heart,” Nasharel says. She steps forward. “Officers of the Hunt, Nasharel the Wanderer is in.”</p><p></p><p><em>NOTE: I AM NOT TRYING TO RAILROAD YOU. We will have fun no matter what your decision might be. There is no right decision, only fun decisions. If you go Hunt, I’m not going to shaft your cousin and if you go Knights of Highmoon, I’m not going to shaft Nasharel. And remember to mark down that you are learning Persuasion, with 1 check towards learning it, BWG, pg 49-50</em></p><p></p><p><u><p style="text-align: center">Player:</p><p></u>I’m stunned, and I don’t think I can hide it well at all. It is a lot to take in.</p><p></p><p>I look around the room, at the faces of all those assembled. I search their eyes for the truth of Shasslan’s words, for the conviction of their mission, and find it easily, displayed openly now that their leader has pulled back the curtain, so to speak.</p><p></p><p>Well, Hal, I say to myself, this is it. The time you had been dreaming about, when Tymora would finally hear your pleas and open the road in front of you. She has done so and with companions to boot.</p><p></p><p>I gave my word to my cousin, yes. But long before that I gave my word to my mother. Family, Freedom and Love all collide in this goal. And my one true love would be by my side, as is befitting.</p><p></p><p>Nethanel will hate me for this, but then again, he already hates me so no great loss there.</p><p></p><p>I drink down the rest of my whiskey in one gulp, look into Nasharel’s eyes… And smile. "Do not be sorry, my love. It is a day to rejoice.</p><p></p><p>“I, Hal Whitewyrm, of the House of Stephaln and Clan Whitewyrm, am in.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Paka, post: 5686623, member: 100"] [U][CENTER]GM:[/CENTER][/U] Everyone gulps their wine and lets out a cheer. Seats are grabbed up, stew is passed around, a goat is served and ale is poured. The meal is a loud, raucous family affair. The Hunt is an entirely human company, with one illusionist-wizard, three priests and the rest are a blend of thugs, warriors and cutpurses. You catch references to other adventures: a series of connected Barrows in Sembia, a goblin warren in Cormyr and quickly changing the subject when Archendale is brought up. Questions come and go easily, the company relaxes and puts away issues of rank and seniority during meals, it seems. Shasslan the Huntress: “You spoke of adventuring with some fondness, Master Whitewyrm. Are you a part of a company in the Dalelands or is it a life that you look at from the outside?” Orlin the Illusionist: “May I ask what interested you about that particular tapestry, Lord Elf?” Nasharel is embroiled in a conversation about the dragon attacks two winters back, trading stories about where everyone was when the tragedy occur and considering theories about how the attacks were orchestrated and their deeper meaning. Rather than back and forth, you post some questions and conversation seeds, I’ll post some questions and in the end, what we have might resemble a conversation, rather than posting back and forth and trying to talk over the forum. [U][CENTER]Player:[/CENTER][/U] “Adventuring was something that fell upon me by the whim of Beshaba,” I say to Shasslan. “In truth I have been a sedentary man only this past year, finally arriving at the hometown of my mother after what feels like a lifetime on the road. Before this, I, we, spent a few years as swords-for-hire in Raven’s Bluff. I tell you, throw a rock in that city and you’ll hit no less than twenty adventurers!” I say with a laugh, signaling for more wine to be poured in my mug. “Still, it kept us fed and warm through the winters. And before that… Well, life on the road,” I mumble into my mug, taking a couple of deep swigs of wine, catching myself before saying too much. “But not, I seem to have stumbled into a new company that sets out into the forest soon enough, so I dine well here today, for who knows what fare the road will bring.” “What about you all?” I ask Shasslan in return. “Where are you headed? Your master haggler spoke of spending winters in warmth but also of return trips into the ruins, so what is it?” A few mugs of wine later… “I am no Lord, Master Orlin, neither am I Elf. I am of two worlds, Elf and Human, and proud of both. As for the tapestry, well, now that I own it I can put aside all cheap talk about weave quality and all that. “The truth is that the scene fascinates me. I have a personal interest in the history of the elven clans of the Cormanthor even as they begin to journey west, and this tapestry is too great a find to not have done all in my power to acquire. It isn’t every day you come across a part of the history of Clan Whitewyrm! I say, I should love to know the story of how that tapestry was recovered from the… wait, Master Blackhand, how did you put it? Ah yes… from the CLUTCHES OF VILE HYENA MEN WHO WORSHIPED A DEMON-GOD OF BLOOD AND MURDER!” [U][CENTER]GM:[/CENTER][/U] Shasslan: "The Blackhand talks too much, I think. We are in fact going out into the Cormanthor one more time, hoping to make it to Myth Drannor and back before the winter becomes deadly. “As to dry and safe, I’m afraid that isn’t for us, necessarily but for our goods. Frankly, we have more than we can carry but not quite enough to purchase a proper Chapter House. So, we are renting a warehouse to store our goods, leaving some old veterans with a deck of cards, money for food and a few crossbows.” Orlin: "Well, its a damned queer tale, I’ll tell you. The gnoll pack we tracked on our way south out of the Myth. We’d already had a nice haul from that spring delving, Tymora blessed us on that trip. “We broke the first rule of adventuring and split the party, Captain’s idea, of course. The fastest of us, the ones who are no strangers to the forest took off after the gnolls while the rest got settled in a defensive position around our Myth Drannor treasures. “Lost two henchmen, though, a shame, really; they were good lads. Damned gnolls would not rout. Turns out when the hyena-men panic, they attack, so even when we had them down to a few, there was no surrender, had to butcher ‘em. Felt like we were doing Bhaal’s dirty work than Tempus’ killing when you have to take to slaughtering enemies like that. Bastards would not rout! Powers above and powers below…just run when yer beat. Buried the boys, there, as per the charter states: ‘We bury our dead where they died, as long as it does not endanger the still-living to do so’ about two days ride south of the Standing Stone." With a mouth full of sweet potato, a henchmen named Kiv says, “Those gnolls were as strange as a Waterdahavian doxy on a festival day. I tell ya, something was odd.” The illusionist grows quiet, trying to put thoughts of their drooling fangs and armor-crunching flails behind him. Kiv continues, “No slaves, no one to sacrifice, with elven goods?” Kiv finishes chewing and continues. “Did anyone decode that parchment they had with ’em?” Shasslan shakes her head. “No and a good thing. It looked like Zhent-code to me.” Shasslan asks, “Who are you joining up with? I didn’t know there were that many other companies in town at the moment. What grand adventure do you have planned?” [U][CENTER]Player:[/CENTER][/U] “Master Orlinn, that is a most queer tale, I say. I know of the ferocity of the gnolls but to learn these so vicious they would not rout when beaten, that is indeed odd. Foul magics of the forest, perhaps? Some after-effect of a Myth Drannan curse? I shall keep your words in my ears as I journey north. “Which, to answer your question, Dame Shasslan, we shall do with a newly chartered company, the Knights of Highmoon. My cousin, Nethanel, Archivist of Oghma, leads it. We number five, though due to family issues my beloved and I are not full members just yet. My cousin, he’s interested in exploring clues to a pre-elven civilization in Cormanthyr. I go in order to seek more information on Clan Whitewyrm and perhaps a lead to my elven heritage and family. “To family, the one given us by the gods and the one we chose ourselves,” I say, raising another toast. “Something caught my attention, I must say. You mentioned a parchment with Zhentish code?” I sneer the word as if it were sour milk in my mouth. [U][CENTER]Player:[/CENTER][/U] Master Orlin shakes his head. “Having asked around, the oddity is not in their inability to run. They are berserkers, it seems, given unholy strength by their demon-god of murder and prone to attack where most folk would stand and drool, beg for mercy or run. The oddity is that they would be transporting elven goods across the Cormanthor. I’m sorry, my emotional state when discussing such matters made my point muddled and unclear.” Shasslan’s eyes narrow when you bring up your cousin and his adventuring party. “I hate to get between a family squabble but I would certainly put in a bid to buy your services from your cousin, take you on as provisional members with a charter vote in a year’s time concerning full membership. In five years, you could be officers, or sooner, Tempus willing.” She continues, "As to the Zhents, yes, I believe they have put out a coded message among the orcs’ Servants of the Black Blood and the gnolls’ demon-god priests. I meant to burn it but also thought I might see if I could get it translated but have not had any luck in that matter and wonder if I should just destroy it so that it does not fall into the wrong hands. You have experience with the Zhentarim? “If you were to join our band, the decoding of that message could be your first job for The Hunt if you can get it done before we leave for Myth Drannor. Voices hush when she says this, a hint as to when they are leaving. She notices and raises her voice just a touch, "That is right Huntsmen, and Hunts-women. We are leaving for the Myth at dawn. I have given no indication because I didn’t want our enemies to know and you lot keep secrets like a pack of drunk sailors. “Someone get the Blackhand off the barrel so he can eat and so that he can see the completion of the tapestry he sold. Vorass, you are welcome to join us in the sitting room too; you were there. The rest of you, I want us packed and ready to go at first light with no indication that we were ever here but the inn-keepers fat coffers and empty larder. I want officers close-by, no father away than the inn’s grounds. Those assigned to the maps, our way into the Myth should be planned and ready to go; I’ll hear your plan as soon as our guests take their leave and I want more emergency exit paths than last time, taking what we know now into account. “Heldorm, anything else?” Heldorm barks like a sergeant, “No more throwing knives at the damned out-house, you devil-dogs! What is wrong with ya’s?” Stools are pushed back from their tables quickly as The Hunt’s members are off to their tasks. The Huntress stands and pats her full belly, “Won’t be eating that well for a while. Will you join us in the sitting room so that we can conclude our deal, or, if tempted by my offer, discuss both of your initiations?” [U][CENTER]Player:[/CENTER][/U] To Orlin: “Wait, what would bloodthirsty gnolls be doing transporting elven goods? What do they care in the first place? This is most foul indeed.” As Shasslan calls the party to order and issues her message and commands, I ponder a few things. It is indeed most strange to find gnolls engaged in transportation of goods. It is safe to assume they did so under something/someone’s command, but what/who, and to what end? And Shasslan’s offer! The Hunt is heading also into the forest, into the elven areas, right where I want to go as well. They offer a fair deal, and would save me dealing with my kinsman’s delicate ego. And this Zhentish code, to boot. So much to ponder… As the members of the Hunt file off to make preparations, I take Nasharel’s hand and follow Shasslan and her people into the sitting room to conclude tonight’s business. Once we are comfortably seated, I break the ice at the first opportunity. “Dame Shasslan, first things first.” I present her with the small coffer that holds the 500 gold agreed for the tapestry in a combination of high-value coins, gems, and a couple of solid gold figurines. "It was all counted and measured three times, but please do feel free to make sure the tally is correct. I admit I wanted to have paid a lot less than this, but I am satisfied with my purchase and pleased that this money will be spent well by your group. “Your offer to join The Hunt is a most tempting one, Shasslan. A most tempting one indeed. I do not know you of old, but what I have seen here tonight speaks of great leadership, strong bonds among the members, of honorable pursuit of the trade. I do not doubt for a second that our contributions would be heard and appreciated as if we had spent years together, that we’d be respected and valued. To feel thusly about a group known only for a few strikes of the bell is a great testament to the integrity of the individuals that make up the whole.” I pause a moment, weighing my decision one last time, feeling the pull between my conviction that family is a priority and my acquired instinct to go for the highest bidder. Do I have the luxury to follow my belief to the end? Can I forgo being mercenary once and for all? I hope I’m making the right decision… “Which is why it is honestly painful for me to have to decline your offer, at least at the moment. My word is bond, and my word was given to my cousin already. As much as my kinsman is a true pompous ass sometimes, as much as I know I am going to exercise control and restraint along the way lest I reply in kind or worse, as much as all that is true, it is also true that he is family, the only blood-kin I have right now, and family is something I feel one must fight for. I must stay true to my word. “That said, I would still like to take a stab at deciphering that Zhentish code you encountered. I have a personal vendetta against Zhentil Keep and anything I can do to help destroy their plans and schemes I would do gladly. Perhaps you’d consider it still to our favor should we meet in the future and joining The Hunt was something feasible to do then. Does that sound good to you?” [U][CENTER]GM:[/CENTER][/U] Before you go to the sitting room with Shasslan, Blackhand and Vorass, Orlin the Illusionist grabs your shoulder, “Its the oldest mystery in adventuring, who is behind the brutes and what do they really want? The problem is, if you follow that trail, it will lead you away from treasure and into the demon-web pits are worse. I’m not saying drow are behind this, I’m saying its that old adventuring cautionary tale, where the giants were being armed and given guidance by the underdark. If you choose to follow that, be careful and whatever you decide in that room, it was a pleasure. Don’t be a stranger.” The sitting room has a small fireplace and several wooden chairs with well worn, over-stuffed pillows. Shassland offers Moonshae whiskey or tea while Heldorm counts every gold, silver and copper you scraped together. Blackhand is pleased to be in the sitting room with two of the founding officers. Vorass has more experience with mercenary units. The warrior is watching carefully, noting their interactions, knowing that important information is being relayed here should she ever want to be an officer in this company. Pleased with the tally, Heldorm smiles and leaves to put the money somewhere safe after entering the transaction in the company’s financial journal. Shasslan gestures towards the tapestry, rolled up and learning in the corner of the room and says, "It is yours, as agreed and here is a rough map that shows where we met those gnolls, just south of the Standing Stones, heading north as if their demon-god’s whips were on their hides. She hears you state your commitment to your cousin. “That makes perfect sense to me. To be perfectly honest, we’ve grown too big too fast but I’ve learned to trust my gut and my gut said to make the offer. Good luck with your adventures. As to joining us later, if we have room, we’d love to have you with us. “Unfortunately, I cannot hand over Zhent code, in fear that something could happen to it under your care and it might fall into evil hands. “I was a sailor growing up and I found out that a boat I worked on was secretly a Zhentarim scouting ship. My actions or lack thereof can never unwittingly do their work ever again. When we have some more time in the Dalelands, I plan on putting a small group together, perhaps with Blackhand here, to find out the meaning of this code. For now, though, it stays in The Hunt.” Blackhand nods, honored and his captain continues. "If we are both back in Highmoon, perhaps we could pool our resources and seek the code’s meaning together but for the fall, I’m afraid the code stays with me. “If things go poorly for your company, make for the Standing Stone. The elven magicks there keep all but the most puissant evils at bay and if you can hold there long enough, we will camp there both on our way into Myth Drannor and on our way back and would gladly help you in your hour of need. Cormanthor is ancient and contains pockets far darker than anyone would like to admit. My you be kissed by Lady Luck’s blessings and walk strong in the armor of the Foehammer” “Is this it? Good-bye and good luck, then?” Blackhand asks. Blackhand, Vorass and Shasslan look at you and Nasharel, ready to say their polite farewells. [I]Do you want to Duel of Wits or try to Persuade her (Persuade, ob 4 and I’d let you FoRK in Slavery-wise as long as you add a bit about your history in with the execution of the persuasion) to give you a glimpse at the Zhent-code or take your leave? And of course, never think that when I present you with a choice that is your only choice. There are plenty of other ways, feel free to discuss other options.[/I] [I]Let me know when you want to take a good look at the tapestry, it tells a story I want to convey to you about the Whitewyrm family history. If you want to write about where and how you lay it out, I’d like to write about what it teaches you.[/I] [U][CENTER]Player:[/CENTER][/U] I shake Orlin’s hand strongly and promise to not be a stranger indeed before heading into the sitting room. I gladly take the offered Moonshae whiskey; it is a rarity in these parts and I openly praise their good taste and generosity. [I](I am going to attempt to persuade Shasslan to at least let me see the code now, assuming she has it on her. I do not have Persuade so my ob is 8; even with my Slavery-wise FoRK it is an impossible task. Nevertheless, I will put it forth if only to start the process of opening it.)[/I] “Dame Shasslan, I fear you misunderstood my words. I would never request to be entrusted with such a document while not being a member of your company. It would be disrespectful and rude of me, so my apologies if I implied that. “What I did mean, however, is that if you happen to have it on your person, I would ask your indulgence in have a look at it. I realize I am asking you to trust me far beyond what our few hours together would deem prudent, but let me tell my tale and you will understand my interest better. “I begin by stressing that, beyond my beloved Nasharel here, no one, not even my cousin knows this tale. I would ask your prudence with my life’s story. “As I mentioned to Master Orlin earlier tonight, I am Half-Elf. My father was an Elf of the Cormanthor but my mother was a human woman from Highmoon. My mother was captured by slavers and sold to a Zhentish wizard. It was in that oppressive state that I was born. I grew up in the dark caves under Zhentil Keep, one of the few to survive childhood in chains. I do not wish to recount all the horrible things I lived through and witnessed, for I do not think there is anyone here who hasn’t at least heard stories of Zhentish slavery. Suffice to say every story I have heard has paled when compared to the reality I lived. “I bear scars that will be with me till my mortal death from those days, but none more painful than the death of my mother. She sacrificed herself in order for Nasharel and I to escape. When I close my eyes… I can still see her screaming at us to run, run and run until you can run no more, then run more still. “As I told you earlier, family is paramount to me, and for the same reason I would put up with my cousin’s inflated ego and tasteless taunts, I would one day seek Xerez the Mad and put an end to his life; I swore this on my mother’s life, just as I sword that he would only be the first of many more Zhentarim to fall by my hand. “This is why I ask to perhaps have a look. I may not be able to help you at all, but maybe, who knows, maybe I can give you something that will help you. Help us. If not, I fully understand and bear no ill will whatsoever. Whether you show me the parchment or not, I will keep your offer firmly in mind, for there will be a reckoning coming to Zhentil Keep and firm allies are joyously welcomed.” [I](Persuade Roll: 2d6 = 4[d6]+5[d6])[/I] [I]Regardless of what happens next, after tonight’s events we go back home and that’s when I unroll the tapestry and have my first glimpse at the complete piece.[/I] [U][CENTER]GM:[/CENTER][/U] Shasslan’s face grows grim. “Blackhand, summon the officers.” Blackhand blinks for a moment and runs from the room, just as he did as a boy on the streets of Ravens Bluff, running messages back and forth between thieves and thief-catchers, merchants and craftsfolk, sailors and carpenters. They have not gone far; it doesn’t take him long. The first to enter is the illusionist and then the three priests of Tempus, already in their ragged, holy battle-armor. The last officer is Heldorm. While they enter Shasslan is silent. She takes a shot of whiskey, pours another, drinks it and begins. Heldorm draws the curtains closed and Orlin casts a spell while the Huntress speaks, a sound-based illusion to keep eavesdroppers from listening. “I grew up as a sailor on the Sea of Fallen Stars. It was not until I was a woman-grown that I understood what it was that my ship did. Ours was a scouting ship, identifying weak villages for Zhentarim slavers. I vowed to have my revenge but I knew that taking the fight to Zhentil Keep would be no small endeavor and I was only a marine with a wicked reputation for having killed her own father and burned her ship to into the sea. “The time between then and now is just details, what is important is that the Powers brought us here. The Hunt is a group made for one purpose: the fall of Zhentil Keep. We watch our candidates, henchmen, hirelings and hangers-on very carefully. If we find that you are not a worthy candidate or that you have no passion for what will eventually become our work, we pass you over for promotion and edge you out of the company, foster you to another company with a less ambitious goal. “Our goal is the fall of Zhentil Keep. That is our hunt. Everyone here, Vorass and Blackhand included have good reason to fight the Zhents and from the way you said their name over dinner, I could tell you’d had experience with them but I had no idea how deeply they had hurt you. “We are amassing a fortune so that we might fight the Zhentarim. War is expensive work. “Our priests have been having visions for weeks and I believe those visions concerned the two of you. This is destiny. “Now I will do something unprecedented; I will ask again. I asked you earlier in hopes that we might have time to feel you out and see if you are a fit for our organization. Now my offer is more aggressive. Join now and you will both walk into officer positions in the Hunt and join a conspiracy to burn Zhentil Keep to the ground and send its occupants straight to the Hells.” From Vorass’ face, you can tell she had an inkling but Laelin looks shocked. The rest of the officers have gathered around. “I’m so sorry, Song of my Heart,” Nasharel says. She steps forward. “Officers of the Hunt, Nasharel the Wanderer is in.” [I]NOTE: I AM NOT TRYING TO RAILROAD YOU. We will have fun no matter what your decision might be. There is no right decision, only fun decisions. If you go Hunt, I’m not going to shaft your cousin and if you go Knights of Highmoon, I’m not going to shaft Nasharel. And remember to mark down that you are learning Persuasion, with 1 check towards learning it, BWG, pg 49-50[/I] [U][CENTER]Player:[/CENTER][/U] I’m stunned, and I don’t think I can hide it well at all. It is a lot to take in. I look around the room, at the faces of all those assembled. I search their eyes for the truth of Shasslan’s words, for the conviction of their mission, and find it easily, displayed openly now that their leader has pulled back the curtain, so to speak. Well, Hal, I say to myself, this is it. The time you had been dreaming about, when Tymora would finally hear your pleas and open the road in front of you. She has done so and with companions to boot. I gave my word to my cousin, yes. But long before that I gave my word to my mother. Family, Freedom and Love all collide in this goal. And my one true love would be by my side, as is befitting. Nethanel will hate me for this, but then again, he already hates me so no great loss there. I drink down the rest of my whiskey in one gulp, look into Nasharel’s eyes… And smile. "Do not be sorry, my love. It is a day to rejoice. “I, Hal Whitewyrm, of the House of Stephaln and Clan Whitewyrm, am in.” [/QUOTE]
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The Ballad of Hal Whitewyrm
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