IC: [Gestalt] The Standing Stone - Game 1

[Rayex]

This is the story of four souls, just starting on the adventure of their life.

The party:
Jaqual, Male Human Barbarian 6 // Bard 3/Fighter 2/Dragon Disciple 1. Played by IcyCool.
Uriel "Call me Surefoot" Tindertwig, Male Halfing Favoured Soul of Hextor 6 // Cleric of Yondalla 6. Played by Kafkonia.
Donnor Bluefeather, Male Human Warmage 6 // Bard 3/Human Paragon 3. Played by Velmont.
Yanahl Oathblood, Male Illumian Spellthief 6/Swashbuckler 6. Played by nonamazing.


Players:
Choose a color to be Your color.
"Speak in your color."
Thoughts in italics, and your color.
OOC:[sblock]OOC into in blocks, or in

Spoiler

spoiler tags.

[/sblock]

 

[Rayex]

The messenger

The reign of the mad priestess was finally at an end. Her hoast of fanatics was put to sleep, and the priestess herself brought to justice. The Matriarch of House Mortil had payed wealthily for the magical cloak of the priestess, and each of you had put the reward to good use buying potions, wands, clothes and other things an adventurer needed.
Now you're sitting here in the Merry Dwarf, one of the many taverns in town. There is only a few dwarves here though, and none of them seemed particularly merry. The evening meal is just finished when a small person in a cloak and cowl approaches your table.

"Greetingss brave adventurerss. I, or rather, my masster have need of your sservice." A scaled hand protrudes from the cloak with a heave envelope sealed by red wax. She, because you are pretty certain it is a she, place the envelop on the table and turns to leave. "I will leave you to deliberate my massterss offer, and will come for your ansswer in two hourss." A pair of red eyes looks out of the cowl over the shoulder as she leaves the tavern.

 

[Velmont]

Donnor fix the letter for a moment and leave it on teh table. He take his galss of wine and drink it in one sip. "Barman, give me the bottle of you elven wine." He continue to stare at the letter.

Whose doom is in this letter. Peneloppe had to sacrifice herself to bring that damned priestess before the justice. Why her? It should have been me. Her minion made a mistake, I killed it. Without her minion, she was helpless, but that thing had just the time to kill her.

A tear start to roll on Donnor's visage.

"In the deepness of the night
Shroud by the cloak of darkness
In the middle of the fight
He obeyed the word of his mistress

The minion, drawn by warrior's might
Touch the elven maid to her soul
Now I mourn her lose, day and night
Me, the owner of the heart she stole"

 

[nonamazing]

Yanhal shakes his head. "Come on, Donnor. She wouldn't have wanted you to feel like that."

The middle-aged man tries to smile, weakly, as he looks around at his companions. "Look...I stand by what I said before. I don't think it's over for her." Yanhal holds up a hand as Uriel starts to speak. "Yes, my friend, you've told me before: you don't have the power to do something like that. But there are others who do."

"I know you think I'm crazy. But despite that fact that she'd lived more than twice the span of years I have, she was...she was just a child. She had so much of her life ahead of her. Don't you see what I mean?" Yanhal sighs. "I've given a lot of thought to this. There are those rare souls who have the power to pull back the veil between this world and the next. Penelope can be brought back."

Yanhal takes a long drink before setting his glass down decisively. "And that's what I'm going to try and do. It won't be easy for us--up 'til now, we haven't had a whole lot of direction. We've just been wandering aimlessly, and to be frank, that's suited most of us quite well. But the kind of people who have the power necessacary to bring her back...well, they're not the kind of people who'd pay one bit of attention to a bunch of nobody drifters like us, no matter how much money we have. It's not an issue of cash, it's an issue of reputation--which is the kind of thing we've all been trying to avoid."

"That means our wandering days are over, for now at least. If we're going to do this, we're going to have to settle in and start working to make a name for ourselves." Yanhal winces, obviously troubled by the idea. "Frankly, it's not what I would have chosen. But I'll do it--for my friend. I'd do the same for any of you."

"Unfortunately, that means we can't afford to be as picky about what sorts of jobs we take--even those as suspicious and creepy as this one," Yanhal says, motioning with one hand toward the envelope at the center of the table. "Uriel? Jaqual? What do you think?"

 

[Kafkonia]

Of course, Uriel thinks to himself as Yanhal speaks, it is possible she may not wish to return. He'd seen it before, souls given the chance to return to this world and yet declining it -- but best not to mention it just now.

"I try not to let a person's race colour my perception of them overly, Mr. Yanhal," Uriel says. "Even the scalykind have given birth to noble spirits in the past. I see no reason not to consider this offer."

He takes the envelope from the table and unseals it, but hesitates before opening it. "Does anyone object if I read it?"

 

[nonamazing]

Yanhal laughs at Uriel's comments. "The fact that the messenger had a few scales isn't what bothered me, little Surefoot. After all, one of my best friends is one-third dragon!" Yanhal grins slyly at Jaqual. "The fact is, I prefer to deal face-to-face with employers. Mysterious hooded messengers make me suspicious."

"By all means, though, go ahead and read it. Do try to keep that wax seal intact, if you can...am I mistaken, or does that seal have some sort of crest on it?"

 

[Rayex]

The message

Uriel takes the envelope and opens it, breaking the seal. He notice that the crest is of a draconic-looknig creature biting its own tail.

He takes out the letter, and reads loud:

"Dear Jaqual, Uriel, Donnor and Yanahl.

I have followed your progress with interest the last six or so months. I must say, I was rather impressed with how you handled the mad priestess. And that trick with the undead lion, I applaud you Donnor.
Enough with the praise - for now. I am in need of a group of brave adventurers to travel into the Empty Forest. There is an old Barrow where an ancient Warlord was entombed. He was known to own a weapon of some power. I, being a collector of strange and mystical weapons, would like to look closer at this blade.
Alas, I am too weak for this myself. Hence, I turn to you.
Bring this blade back to me, and I will reward you each with one thousand gold pieces.
Good luck, and stay safe.

Lord Ashaan."

 

[nonamazing]

"Hmph. I note that he chose to list my name last. And why does Donnor get singled out for a compliment?" Yanhal grins at Donnor, showing that he's just joking with him. "Still, this Ashaan fellow seems friendly enough. And someone that wealthy is sure to have contacts here and there, so the job will probably help our reputation, I'd guess."

"The Empty Forest? Hmm... It doesn't ring any bells with me... Jaqual, you've travelled extensively in these lands--do you know anything about it? Oh, and Donnor--have you ever heard of Lord Ashaan?"

 

[Velmont]

Donnor takes a sip of wine and listen to the letter. his mind, distracted by the proposition, seems to have put aside, for the moment, the torment of the recent past."That because you've never enclosed an undead lion in a wall of stone with a flaming sphere... and I am not ready to repeat that. I used the only scroll I had of it." replies Donnor to Yahnal. "Lord Ashaan? An ancient Warlord entomb in an old Barrow in the Empty Forest... A weapon of power? Let me think."

[SBLOCK=OOC]Knowledge (Arcana) on the weapon of power: 29
Knowledge (Local) on a local legend about the Warlord or on the personality of Lord Ashaan: 10
Knowledge (History) on a Warlord buried in the Empty Forest: 19
Bardic Lore on the buried Warlord and his weapon of power: 19[/SBLOCK]

 

[Kafkonia]

"I've never been comfortable with looting tombs" Uriel remarks, "although I suppose I should resign myself to such tasks if I am to persist in my chosen profession." He smiles wanly. "And a thousand gold will buy quite a lot of... well, most things."

He places the letter on the table. "I am not well-versed in your heraldry. Does anyone recognize this crest?"