Ferviel takes a few minutes, searching trough various bags and containers, returning retrieved items, setting some aside, then searching once more.
He grunts approvingly and hands Rufus and Thok two suits of armour. One is a suit of matte, grey coloured steel mail. It glows eerily with a dim green light. The other one is a suit of half-plate that looks particularly clean and bright - in fact, it almost seems to shine with its own light.
"Use em' well, they'll protect you. Here, I'll give something to make them better. This is from me."
He hands Thok and Rufus several glass bottles filled with a blue substance that glows with magic. Some glow more brightly then others.
The Cleric then sizes up Zinnerath and grunts, but returns to his chest and in a minute he produces a halberd, glowing with the ever familiar blue glow of magical enchantments.
"This is a good weapon - it's one of the Golden Guard's Halberds of Redemption. There's more of them around Muirlane but this was the only one I could find on short notice. Galen didn't want it, his sword is better he says. Don't - Ferviel shakes his finger at Zinnerath - break it!"
The cleric regards Geryk for a moment and rubs his chin. "Talking to the dead you say. Well I must admit for all my years as a cleric of Lathander, accepted amongst the Radiant Servants, I've never thought of talking to them. Little good will it do to you though. Zombies and skeleltons are as dumb as the dirt they rose from, and shadows and ghosts can't speak.
The only undead thing I've ever decided to take interest in and not smite immediately is the White Lady. She seems to have knowledge and sentience beyond that of a regular banshee. She's never spoken to me however, and I doubt I want to hear her wail haha!" The priest chuckles as he regards his own belt, adorned with yet another sunrise of Lathander made of rose, red, and yellow gems.
"A belt. Well I can give you my old one, I got this one enchanted last year and it's much better. Let me see If I can find it here... somewhere."
He returns to his chest and after a moment produces a belt with a holy symbol of Lathander on it.
"Here you go, use it well Dawnbringer. I have nothing that will let you speak with the dead. As for Divination, I'll give you a pair of scrolls that will aid you with the necessary magical ceremony for contacting our Lord Lathander. As for the rods - I have rods of metamagic. I also have some other items you might want, but that will have to wait. Let's be off!"
[sblock=Items]
Ghost Touch, Light Fortification Chainmail +1
Ghost Touch, Commander (MiC) Half-Plate +1
He gives you two
oils of
Magic vestment +4 and five
oils of
Magic vestment +1
The Halberd of Redemption is not a special item or artifact - they are standard issue enchanted weapons. Knowledge rolls or asking will reveal more information on who they were made for. This one (and most of the other standard issue ones) is a
+2 Ghost Touch, Undead Bane Halberd
Ferviel's old belt:
Belt of Priestly Might (MiC) combined with a
Belt of Battle (MiC) in one item.
He hands Geryk two
scrolls of Commune.[/sblock]
Upon exiting his tent you see that a good deal of time has passed. The sun has already set on the horizon and it's already dark outside. In the darkness, the glow of the magical items is more apparent - especially the auras around Ferviel and the new equipment he gave the party. Ferviel's eyes glow wtih a blue-green hue.
"I can see in the dark, but apart from he half-orc and the elf I think the rest of you are in need of help. Hold on."
He produces a wand and casts a spell from it - a mix of blue and yellow energy creeps up his arm and jolts at a nearby cavalry standard depicting Lathander's holy symbol. It immediately bursts with bright light, as if day has dawned around it. Ferviel grabs the standard and locks it in the slot at his saddle.
He then turns towards a silent, robed figure waiting patiently near his tent. It appears to be a man clad in red and white robes, with the top of his head shaved.
"Brother Tobias, please see to the tents for the vanguard and also let Lazarus know we are checking on the rear before we go to him."
The man bows silently and enters the tent, while the group rides off. You attract a fair amount of attention, with a bubble of light around your horses spreading out for 120 feet, and with Ferviel riding at the head of your column. It seems that some have already went to erect the campsite and you can see torches flickering in the distance, light gleaming off the occasional white tent, and the sounds of shouting and hammering can be heard. The camp seems around 800 yards to your north (you have been traveling east from Angelwatch and are now retracing your steps back)
Some of the riders, at least those who are less organized or have neglected to bring tents and mounts, are still along the road and occasional mercenary companies have decided to light cooking fires at random spots in the meadow between the road and the main camp.
"Hah, Lazarus will have their hides, bloody idiots! Everyone will have to camp together. If anything, the man knows his war and discipline. Now, listen, this flag will serve as a pivot. If you are injured, return back to my destrier an grab a potion from my saddle pouch. Draw the enemy in the light if you can."
The hooves thunder in the night, the horses running well with the guidance of the now magically enchanted standard. Crickets can still be heard, despite the autumn chill that has set in, and the grass rustles with the wind that arises from the north. Up in the sky, you can see the bright constellations sprinkled across the pitch black sky dome.
Suddenly, you hear voices. Many of them, shouting in unison, gruff and deep. In a few moments it becomes clear that this isn't shouting but... singing?
"... AND SO A LADY CAME TA ME, CAME TA ME, CAME TA ME,
AND SO I MADE HER BARE HER KNEE, BARE HER KNEE, BARE HER KNEE,
"I AM BRIMMIR OF MOUNTAINS RED!" I SAID AS I PICKED HER UP,
"I KNOW - THAT'S WHY I'M IN YOUR BED!" SHE LAUGHED AS I FELT HER CUP!
"
Thundering, drunken laughter can be heard from down the road. The groups soon encounters a party of several dwarves, walking towards them, some covered with stains of dried blood, one with a keg of what appears to be ale, tied to his back, all of them grasping filled tankards, and the last two dragging something behind them, tied with ropes.
"Let's do
"The Headsman's Axe" again Bolgrim!" shouts one of the dwarves, a stocky, muscular fellow dressed only in a linen shirt. He laughs as he speaks, and drools ale on his black beard.
[sblock=Spellcraft DC = 18]Ferviel casts
Daylight from a wand.[/sblock]
[sblock=Notification for update]@
Voda Vosa @
Malachei @
Dragonwriter @
Shayuri @
Zerith @
Scotley [/sblock]
