D&D 5E [IC] Creamsteak's Princes of Elemental Evil

[Steve Gorak]

Thaliss looked in satisfaction at the owl now sitting on his shoulder. He thoroughly enjoyed sending the creature out, high up in the air, and seeing the town from this unexpected angle. He also couldn't help but periodically thump his fingers affectionately on his book of shadows. It now contained more rituals, courtesy of Carradoc. He had spent much time alone with the wizard, and thought he was an interesting fellow. The arcane arts required much discipline, and he respected the wizard for his dedication. He also well understood his motivation, as the search for more and more arcane power was something Thaliss also sought.

It was a beautiful morning, and after having stayed 2 nights in Red Larch, Thaliss was looking forward heading to the Spire.

OOC: I am assuming we all agreed to meet at the local inn the 2nd evening we were in town, prior to our second and final night in Red Larch, and we ironed-out that we are heading to the spire I will also subtract 4gp from Thaliss' wealth for 2 days/nights comfortable accommodations.

 

[Kobold Stew]

Carradoc also appears, compliments Thaliss on his choice of an owl, without irony. He's also settled up at the Red Larch, and bids the two young humans to fare well.

 

[Creamsteak]

By the dawn of the second day, the Knight Captain has managed to acquire a loan, a horse, a suit of studded leather armor, a longsword, a bow, and supplies. He seems intent on riding himself to Mirabar. Such a journey would take at least two weeks, but Romon seems intent. He seems... overly excited... almost chipper.

The dwarven sage seems intent on treking to Waterdeep in a similar manner, though with the next passing caravan.

As evening approaches, the group gathers at the inn. The place is busy, but not overly so. A large rectangular table easily seats the party. The lighting is still fairly good, the sun still shines in through the windows a bit.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Dent went with Romon to acquire supplies for the next leg of their journey. He had less to purchase than did Romon, needing only trail rations. Dent eyed the horses, then turned to Romon and queried him about his intent where the pair would next be traveling. When Romon replied that he intended to return to Mirabar without delay, an argument ensued. Romon pressed to return to Mirabar to inform the Knight Commander about his capture and the threat in the Dessarin Valley, while Dent shouted and sputtered about vengeance on the monastery. Always hot-headed, Dent made the grave error of spouting that Romon's capture had addled his courage, at which point the argument stilled to deathly silence. Words had passed that would not soon be forgotten or forgiven. The Knight Captain's eyes hardened. He turned a courtly bow to Dent, then flatly stated, "You're dismissed. Forthwith, your title shall no longer be Lieutenant Ser. You are Marcus Dent, and your services are no longer required. And don't let me catch sight of you again, or you shall be sorry indeed." Romon mounted his horse and strode off for Mirabar, leaving Dent to gape at his back.

A sour Dent returned to the tavern. He flopped into a chair beside Carradoc and flagged the barmaid to bring a flagon of ale. "I've been sacked. The sooner we blow this joint, the better." The words were more than Dent had offered in idle conversation all the days the pair had travelled together thus far.

 

[Forged Fury]

"Congratulations on your new opportunity," Damien commented over a glass of wine, probably reading the situation correctly but offering up a twisted felicitation to the former Mirabaran guardsman. "So what is our next step? Has anyone checked in with the Guild to determine what more we need to do to complete this assignment?"

The warlock looked around the table, only to appear to suddenly realize they were short a few heads. "I daresay, are we missing a few ear points this morning?"

Archandros had been remarkably quiet for the last two days, the warlock hoped he would remain so for the foreseeable future.

 

[Steve Gorak]

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise; but until you find the disguise, I offer you my condolences Thaliss quietly relays to Dent in a classy manner, but for all to hear in their minds, as he raised his glass of wine to him.

After a slight pause, Thaliss quietly addresses Damien's comments I sincerely hope our friend Aridha has not left us, as she was carrying the magical motes, one of which we need to bring back to the guild as part of our contract, at least I believe. As far as next steps, we also need to recover the remaining nobles from the caravan. On our way back to Red Larch, I learned that two of them, Deseyna Norvael and Teresial, were taken by knights riding griffons and vultures. Likely to the Spire. Another one called Rhundorth was taken deeper into the caverns below the mine in the Stone Temple.

Continuing to communicate telepathically with no pause, even while he sipped wine, Thaliss added I have not been to the guild, as I have spent most of my time in Red Larch with my wizard friend here, dabbling in the Arts. Perhaps we should stop by tomorrow morning, before we head to, say, the Spire?. Thaliss' mannerisms seemed somewhat effeminate, in a way typical of elven nobles. However, these we in complete silence, since all communication was telepathic, which led to an odd an unnatural feeling to all around the table.

 

[Kobold Stew]

Carradoc appears, and is immediately aware that soothing has soured Dent's stew. "Lieutenant," he said, nodding his head in the direction of his companion before moving on and securing the bags.

Carradoc is ready to move on, as are enough of his companions. He runs his long thin fingers through his hair. It looks like he is exhausted with the day, even though light has barely topped the low houses of the village.

"Shall we?" he asks, tossing his chin casually towards the road.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

Dent winced when Carradoc called him Lieutenant. Still, he stood up, quaffed the remainder of his ale in one go and stepped away from the table. "Just Dent or Marcus will do. Or nothing. No need for a name, really." Dent grabbed his pack. He exited the tavern and stood outside, taking a moment to torque down the strap on the shoulder piece of his plate mail. He might not be a Ser any longer, but he had the armor to show for it. Romon could go to hell. Dent smiled, the fingers of his left hand extending by reflex, the joints cracking. Maybe he'd even be so lucky as to be the one to usher Hightower to the Abyss.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

When the others exited the tavern, Dent commented, Ere he left, Romon made a comment that troubles me. He said that before he embarked from Mirabar he received a letter, some sort of warning, he thought. From an old friend, someone he adventured with many years ago. The letter warned of a person the monks called their 'prophet,' Marlos Unrayle, I think he said. Whoever this Unrayle is, Romon knew him from before. I didn't have an opportunity to query Romon further before he left Red Larch." Dent accompanied the group wherever it was they headed next, paying no heed to their destination. He seemed distracted.

 

[Steve Gorak]

Thelepathically, Thaliss responds to Dent's comment, but for all to "hear" I wonder if that Unrayle is the same person we say riding the crocodile.

Thaliss is intent on following up with his comment in the inn, and heads towards the adventurer's guild. He wants to make sure the group received the credit for rescuing part of the Mirabarian caravan. Once at the adventurer's guild, he strikes a conversation to whomever is in charge and relates the partial rescue.