Amon speaks from the corner of the table, "well," the voice has lost all of its harshness, changing tone even, all eyes turning, they look at the portly man. Grinning with his yellowed teeth, the teeth turn a clean white, and in an instant there is a blond, blue eyed male half-elf in finely tailored clothing, then a masked dark-skinned female elf, then another form, then, wait was that you but its gone, and they seem to shift so quickly it takes you a moment to realize that they have stopped and it is once more the yellowed teeth grinning at you. "I have a mild talent at mimicry as well as a few slight powers of the mind. And if you had heard of me... well, let's not touch upon that subject."
[EBERRON] the Extraordinaries, 'A Terror Awakened, the League Reborn'
- Thread starter Karl Green
- Start date
Keia
I aim to misbehave
Azreal (Half-Celestial) War-Mage Paladin
Azreal ate his dinner with the others in silence, occasionally his lips would move as though he were talking with someone - though it was very subtle. He brooded, wondering of his purpose, and was surprised to hear that very question aired. He pushed his plate aside, and slid his chair back, standing in the cramped (for him) galley . . . the tips of Azreal's wings almost touching the ceiling before he lowered and folded them behind him. He swept his hair back with a hand . . . and it stayed in place.
"My name is Azreal, and I once hailed from Syrania," Azreal replied in a deep clear voice. "While I have some skill as a swordsman . . . '(He paused thinking of his lost scimitar)' I am better equipped to provide covering fire and ranged support. It has been said that I am fairly resistant to magical effects . . . and I have some talents in working magics as well."
Through his speech, Azreal met the gaze over everyone in the room that would as he spoke. When finished, he sat back down and pulled his plate over to pick at his food, his hair again falling over his eyes.
Azreal ate his dinner with the others in silence, occasionally his lips would move as though he were talking with someone - though it was very subtle. He brooded, wondering of his purpose, and was surprised to hear that very question aired. He pushed his plate aside, and slid his chair back, standing in the cramped (for him) galley . . . the tips of Azreal's wings almost touching the ceiling before he lowered and folded them behind him. He swept his hair back with a hand . . . and it stayed in place.
"My name is Azreal, and I once hailed from Syrania," Azreal replied in a deep clear voice. "While I have some skill as a swordsman . . . '(He paused thinking of his lost scimitar)' I am better equipped to provide covering fire and ranged support. It has been said that I am fairly resistant to magical effects . . . and I have some talents in working magics as well."
Through his speech, Azreal met the gaze over everyone in the room that would as he spoke. When finished, he sat back down and pulled his plate over to pick at his food, his hair again falling over his eyes.
Karl Green
First Post
Vathirond, Mol, Third Week of Therendor, morning
After dinner, the League members retire to their rooms to get what sleep that they can... perhaps the last peaceful sleep they will get before entering the Mournland. In the morning, the Endless-Fury comes in high over Vathirond, a small stone walled city of maybe 300 souls.
Landing on the outskirts of town, the first-mate salutes you all "Good luck ta ya Cap'in and ta the rest of ya. We'll be a waitin' here fer ya" while the others unload all the equipment and food that the party had requested.
After dinner, the League members retire to their rooms to get what sleep that they can... perhaps the last peaceful sleep they will get before entering the Mournland. In the morning, the Endless-Fury comes in high over Vathirond, a small stone walled city of maybe 300 souls.
Landing on the outskirts of town, the first-mate salutes you all "Good luck ta ya Cap'in and ta the rest of ya. We'll be a waitin' here fer ya" while the others unload all the equipment and food that the party had requested.
The portly man huffs out of his bunk, having spent a bit of the night having a good crude laugh or two with the few crew mates who would have a drink with him, getting the latest ship gossip, he rests his weight against the rail to catch his breath. He guides himself from the Endless-Fury, such a small "city" if it should even be called anything short of a hamlet was probably explicitly predictable due to its blatant presence next to the Mournlands.
ShaggySpellsword
First Post
Upon reaching solid ground, Marcus kneels to the ground, and prays silently to the Flame Here at the cusp of this mission I stand, grant your guiding light unto me and my companions, so that are steps shall bring us ever closer to thy fiery breast.
After he has finished praying, Marcus gathers together Arrow and the rest of his things, and turns to the others. "I will voyage into the town and see if I can't procure us something of an expert about this near region of the Mournland...surely someone here has crossed the misty veil near here, and I mean to ask him what exactly lies on the other side. If there is anything to find, I should find it before too long...any objections?"
((Gather Information 1d20+9=16))
Assuming there are no objection, Marcus ventures into the city and starts asking around at the typical kind of places adventurers and scavengers would hang out, bars, inns, pawn shops, etc. Asking about the most daring stories of voyages into the Mournland.
After he has finished praying, Marcus gathers together Arrow and the rest of his things, and turns to the others. "I will voyage into the town and see if I can't procure us something of an expert about this near region of the Mournland...surely someone here has crossed the misty veil near here, and I mean to ask him what exactly lies on the other side. If there is anything to find, I should find it before too long...any objections?"
((Gather Information 1d20+9=16))
Assuming there are no objection, Marcus ventures into the city and starts asking around at the typical kind of places adventurers and scavengers would hang out, bars, inns, pawn shops, etc. Asking about the most daring stories of voyages into the Mournland.
Bobitron
Explorer
Fury assists the crew in moving the provisions, taking advantage of his bulk to speed the unloading. He then joins the rest of the party. He nods when Marcus suggests finding a guide, but raises a broad hand in warning.
"Keep in mind, holy man, that very few enter the Mournland and live. Anyone who says they travel the lands freely is either a liar or someone with serious power. One who can pass through the Mournlands and come out alive, especially after multiple trips, could be as much bane as boon." Fury's head turns, gazing out past the city to the dead lands beyond.
"Another warning that all should heed. When I was last here, the Lord of Blades was sending out people into the civilized lands of the world, and some of his agents may very well be watching us as we speak. I am known to him and his agents, and we would do best to avoid them. He will not take well to my presence in these lands."
"Keep in mind, holy man, that very few enter the Mournland and live. Anyone who says they travel the lands freely is either a liar or someone with serious power. One who can pass through the Mournlands and come out alive, especially after multiple trips, could be as much bane as boon." Fury's head turns, gazing out past the city to the dead lands beyond.
"Another warning that all should heed. When I was last here, the Lord of Blades was sending out people into the civilized lands of the world, and some of his agents may very well be watching us as we speak. I am known to him and his agents, and we would do best to avoid them. He will not take well to my presence in these lands."
ShaggySpellsword
First Post
"The word in Sharn is that an underground salvage market for Cyrean goods has opened up in a number of cities near the Mournland...I understand that the Mournland is dangerous, but surely some men of limited power have, through cunning or through luck, been able to get in and out well enough to find this salvage. Unless of course, this Lord of Blades is the supplier behind the salvage market...or some other powerful entity. Anyway, I appreciate your concern, Fury. If your concerns are valid, and I don't doubt that they may be, I'd just as soon know that there is someone of such a vile nature here in this town, how good he is, and what we can do to keep him from following us once we leave...I'd rather know these things than be surprised. I don't like surprises."
ShaggySpellsword said:
With gasping breaths, he hustles up next to Marcus giving the warrior of the Flame a white toothed grin, "I... could be... a bit of help... seeking out someone," he coughs roughly, yellow teeth showing through, "Gherald Preax," he says tapping his forehead with a tobacco stained finger, "is not foreign to the ways of men." If there is no objection the portly man travels with Marcus to seek out some more information.
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taitzu52
First Post
Neville is now changed into his explorer's gear. Much like he boarded the ship, he exits with a worn leather sidebag neatly tucked underneath his arm, and little else. "Come along now, Henry.", he says, as the enormous wolfhound, curled up in the corner, pokes his head up fully awake, and comes bounding after his master. Walking off the gangplank he says, "Beautiful day, eh Marcus? Now, where did I put those letters?" Patting himself down about the waistcoat, Neville pulls an envelope out and reads the instructions within. "If anyone is in need of supplies, I will be procuring them presently. We shall now see if 13's exchequer is as good as his promises of it." Neville reaches to his side, and pulls a large hat out of his bag (almost too large for such a small bag), and strides towards the market. With a grin, he says, "Now, let's see what Vathirond has to offer!"
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