Like Father, Like Son: Kid Charlemagne's Story Hour , PT III
- Thread starter Kid Charlemagne
- Start date
Jovah
First Post
MasterOfHeaven said:
I did not think that story posted on the test boards. I was just messing around / bored.
He also believes there is a fine line between boldness and insanity.
Having played with Jalea for about 5 real-world years I am kind of used to his actions.
To be honest that part that bothers me the most about Jalea going off to do his own scouting is that lately he has had a hard time coming back and making his scouting report.
Jovah said:
To defend Jalea -
When he went off in Ulfang, the only reason he didn't return is because he got turned into a statue by the Retriever - as soon as he saw the thing, he took off running but his luck ran out & he got caught. Had he known there was a big, mean, nasty demon on the prowl (probably looking specifically for him), I think even he wouldn't have been too ambitious to do any solo scouting.
Since that time he's been pretty tame and (grudgingly) stayed put (except for the very short time in Broadleaf forest - and he came right back).
And since I don't want to give away too much before the next updates ...
SPOILER (kind of)...
... he knows that everyone will be joining him the next day so he only has to hide out for a short time (granted, he doesn't know exactly how long). And if he can appropriate any of the necessary items for the impending destruction of the world, all the better.
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Dang.
You're not gonna let me sit back on my butt at all... Now I gotta get working on some updates... First update tomorrow. Find out how many enchantments Gavin can be under before his teeth start to rattle....!
You're not gonna let me sit back on my butt at all... Now I gotta get working on some updates... First update tomorrow. Find out how many enchantments Gavin can be under before his teeth start to rattle....!
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Duke Alfric’s Castle, Kingdom of Caer Sidi, June 25th, AE 420
As they enter the outer bailey of the castle, they take stock of the layout of the place. The main keep is surrounded by walls, and is built on a an area of higher ground. A winding, walled path leads down to the outer bailey, which is surrounded by the second set of walls.
The Captain of the Guard stops the group, nodding to Theodisius, and asks them their business. Aris acts as spokesman. He introduces the party, using their actual places of origin; they have decided that being truthful is the best policy here.
“We’re searching for criminals from our realms who we believe have taken refuge here in Caer Sidi,” he says.
As the Captain listens to their story, Soldago notices a bronze raven that at first he takes to be a statuette. Then, its head turns, looking at the party. When the party has finsihed their tale, the Captain whispers something to the Raven, and it flies off, heading towards the main keep.
“The Duke will be notified of your presence, and will no doubt wish to speak with you soon,” the Captain says. You may avail yourselves of the marketplace in the meantime.”
Near the main gates to the fortress is a marketplace. There are a good number of small shops here, selling everything from pastries and candies to carpets and tapestries. There is an armorer/weaponsmith run by a hobgoblin but manned by dwarves wearing the collars indicating they are slaves. There is an apothecary, run by a group of gnomes. There is even a perfumer, which appears to be owned by a foppish looking kobold. Free hobgoblins and wealthy looking elves mill about the marketplace, making purchases.
Gavin’s eyes are drawn to a practice field where some of the elvish knights are taking jousting practice. Lord Evan is among them, tilting at rings.
“Thinking about challenging someone?” Jovah asks. “I could place some bets…”
“Nah,” Gavin responds. “They’d probably throw me in jail for having steel armor.”
After an hour or so of milling about an shopping, Jovah has ordered a bronze dagger from the weaponsmith, and Brennen has attempted to test the quality of the bronze metal to see if its similar in strength to that back home.
A young elf in long robes bearing the griffon emblem approaches Aris and Jalea. He bows to them, and addresses Aris.
“Duke Alfric requests the pleasure of your presence in court… now.”
Aris bows back. “We would be honored. Lead on.
He glances back at the others with a sly grin.
“Come, underlings.”
Gavin and Corwin glare back at the Bladesinger, who seems awfully pleased with himself. They trudge on up to the main castle, and pass through the gates of the inner walls.
Inside the inner walls lies the main keep, which is surrounded by a wide moat that runs from the keep’s edge to the walls. A bridge crosses the seventy or so feet to the keep. The water appears to be fed by a mechanism that forces water out like waterfalls from the base of the keep itself. The water is crystal clear, with a tiled bottom. It is also populated by a number of immense goldfish, each about fifteen to twenty feet long.
“Well,” Gavin says. “They do say that goldfish grow to the size of their container…”
They enter the keep and make their way up to the Great Hall, which is on the very top floor. The Hall is designed to appear like a forest glade, with stone pillars carved to resemble trees, leaves made of elborate grreen enamel, and semi-precious gems sparkling as flowers. Mechnical nightingales chirp in amidst the gilded leaves. Inside are dozens of elves lounging about with orcish slaves serving them. A solitary gnome flits about the room with a small step ladder, examining and occasionally repairing some of the mechanical nightingales.
At the far end of the Hall, sitting upon a raised dias, are two thrones. An elven man and woman sit upon them, dressed sumptuosly in fine fabrics and rich furs. The elvish page who has brought the party this far leads them up to the dias and introduces them.
“Milord and milady,” he says. “I present you with Aris Lyrell, and compatriots.”
“This is Duke Alfric, and the Lady Meriven.”
Aris bows gracefully, and explains the parties presence and tells the Duke of their reasons for coming here. Duke Alfric listens politely, and when the Bladesinger is finished, he speaks.
“I welcome you to the Kingdom of Caer Sidi, and grant you free right of passage within my realm. While you are a guest here, you are under my protection. Please accept my offer of lodgings for the night, and we would be honored if you would join us for dinner this evening.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Aris says. “I am curious; have you seen these two people that I have described? Their names are Arlen Kentfield, and Quinn.”
“I must confess that all Thendar look much alike to me,” Duke Alfric replies. “I do not recall seeing these individuals.”
The party takes their leave of the Duke and Lady, and goes to the chambers appointed to them, led by the elvish page. As they arrive at the chambers, which are situated in one of the four towers of the inner wall, Aris turns to the page.
“Has there been anyone in the area matchign the descriptions I gave the Duke?” he asks. “Have you seen those two men by any chance?”
The young elf looks up at the Bladesinger.
“Oh, yes!” he responds, and points to a nearby tower. “They’re staying right over there!”
As they enter the outer bailey of the castle, they take stock of the layout of the place. The main keep is surrounded by walls, and is built on a an area of higher ground. A winding, walled path leads down to the outer bailey, which is surrounded by the second set of walls.
The Captain of the Guard stops the group, nodding to Theodisius, and asks them their business. Aris acts as spokesman. He introduces the party, using their actual places of origin; they have decided that being truthful is the best policy here.
“We’re searching for criminals from our realms who we believe have taken refuge here in Caer Sidi,” he says.
As the Captain listens to their story, Soldago notices a bronze raven that at first he takes to be a statuette. Then, its head turns, looking at the party. When the party has finsihed their tale, the Captain whispers something to the Raven, and it flies off, heading towards the main keep.
“The Duke will be notified of your presence, and will no doubt wish to speak with you soon,” the Captain says. You may avail yourselves of the marketplace in the meantime.”
Near the main gates to the fortress is a marketplace. There are a good number of small shops here, selling everything from pastries and candies to carpets and tapestries. There is an armorer/weaponsmith run by a hobgoblin but manned by dwarves wearing the collars indicating they are slaves. There is an apothecary, run by a group of gnomes. There is even a perfumer, which appears to be owned by a foppish looking kobold. Free hobgoblins and wealthy looking elves mill about the marketplace, making purchases.
Gavin’s eyes are drawn to a practice field where some of the elvish knights are taking jousting practice. Lord Evan is among them, tilting at rings.
“Thinking about challenging someone?” Jovah asks. “I could place some bets…”
“Nah,” Gavin responds. “They’d probably throw me in jail for having steel armor.”
After an hour or so of milling about an shopping, Jovah has ordered a bronze dagger from the weaponsmith, and Brennen has attempted to test the quality of the bronze metal to see if its similar in strength to that back home.
A young elf in long robes bearing the griffon emblem approaches Aris and Jalea. He bows to them, and addresses Aris.
“Duke Alfric requests the pleasure of your presence in court… now.”
Aris bows back. “We would be honored. Lead on.
He glances back at the others with a sly grin.
“Come, underlings.”
Gavin and Corwin glare back at the Bladesinger, who seems awfully pleased with himself. They trudge on up to the main castle, and pass through the gates of the inner walls.
Inside the inner walls lies the main keep, which is surrounded by a wide moat that runs from the keep’s edge to the walls. A bridge crosses the seventy or so feet to the keep. The water appears to be fed by a mechanism that forces water out like waterfalls from the base of the keep itself. The water is crystal clear, with a tiled bottom. It is also populated by a number of immense goldfish, each about fifteen to twenty feet long.
“Well,” Gavin says. “They do say that goldfish grow to the size of their container…”
They enter the keep and make their way up to the Great Hall, which is on the very top floor. The Hall is designed to appear like a forest glade, with stone pillars carved to resemble trees, leaves made of elborate grreen enamel, and semi-precious gems sparkling as flowers. Mechnical nightingales chirp in amidst the gilded leaves. Inside are dozens of elves lounging about with orcish slaves serving them. A solitary gnome flits about the room with a small step ladder, examining and occasionally repairing some of the mechanical nightingales.
At the far end of the Hall, sitting upon a raised dias, are two thrones. An elven man and woman sit upon them, dressed sumptuosly in fine fabrics and rich furs. The elvish page who has brought the party this far leads them up to the dias and introduces them.
“Milord and milady,” he says. “I present you with Aris Lyrell, and compatriots.”
“This is Duke Alfric, and the Lady Meriven.”
Aris bows gracefully, and explains the parties presence and tells the Duke of their reasons for coming here. Duke Alfric listens politely, and when the Bladesinger is finished, he speaks.
“I welcome you to the Kingdom of Caer Sidi, and grant you free right of passage within my realm. While you are a guest here, you are under my protection. Please accept my offer of lodgings for the night, and we would be honored if you would join us for dinner this evening.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Aris says. “I am curious; have you seen these two people that I have described? Their names are Arlen Kentfield, and Quinn.”
“I must confess that all Thendar look much alike to me,” Duke Alfric replies. “I do not recall seeing these individuals.”
The party takes their leave of the Duke and Lady, and goes to the chambers appointed to them, led by the elvish page. As they arrive at the chambers, which are situated in one of the four towers of the inner wall, Aris turns to the page.
“Has there been anyone in the area matchign the descriptions I gave the Duke?” he asks. “Have you seen those two men by any chance?”
The young elf looks up at the Bladesinger.
“Oh, yes!” he responds, and points to a nearby tower. “They’re staying right over there!”
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Dinkeldog said:
There for a minute, I was thinking I might have to, but that's not for another update or so...
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Duke Alfric’s Castle, Kingdom of Caer Sidi, June 25th, AE 420
Preparations are made for dinner. The group decides to “dress down” for dinner, leaving armor, and most weapons behind. Jovah glyphs the armoire in their chambers to guard the left-behind stuff. Soon after, they hear the bells signalling dinner time.
They return to the Duke’s Great Hall, and notice, among other things, that the painted ceiling, which earlier showed a day time sky, has now shifted to a night-time, twilight. A long table has been set in the Hall, seating twenty to a side, with Duke Alfric and Lady Meriven at the head of the table.
The party is not surprised to see Arlen Kentfield and the alienist Quinn sitting at the table. The same, however, cannot be said of them. Kentfield nearly chokes on a grape when he sees the party walk in, and Quinn’s eyes get wide in shock.
Jalea waves to them, cheerily.
The party is seated in the last eight chairs on the opposite side from Kentfield and Quinn. Jovah is sitting closest, with Corwin nearby to translate, as the gnome doesn’t speak elvish. Jalea sits at the very far end of the table, as far from Kentfield as possible. He notices Quinn and Kentfield urgently whispering to each other. The elf takes a sip of wine, and chases it with a potion of clairaudience.
“How did they get here?” Quinn is asking urgently. “This is terrible, terrible news! What do we do now?”
“Relax,” Kentfield replies. “They cannot take any action here while we are guests of the Duke, right? We’ll have to move up our plans. We will finish our business here tonight, and then depart at the earliest opportunity. We need to be back in our own world by the Solstice.”
Quinn nods, and tries to relax, but this seems to be a difficult task for the alienist.
Meanwhile, an elvish lady sitting next to Jovah asks him something in elvish. He graciously raises his glass and nods emphatically to whatever it is she said.
Midway through dinner, Jovah is trying to convince Gavin to challenge somebody to a joust in order to drum up some gambling. Kentfield interrupts his conversation.
“I would think that you would have had your fill of pushing your luck,” the demonologist says, in perfect elvish.
“Really?” Corwin responds, also in elvish. “I would have that that it is you that would be concerned about pushing your luck.”
Jovah nudges Gavin excitedly. “I think he’s placing some bets for us!”
The rest of dinner passes uneventfully. The party returns to their chambers and debate what to do next. After some heated discussion, they decide to keep an eye on their foes. Corwin, Jalea, and Reana all head down towards the tower that Kentfield is staying in. Aris’ hawk, Whistlethorne, is nearby ready to call his master if Reana gives the signal. Corwin casts detect thoughts and sneaks to just outside the oaken door.
The wizard identifies the two minds in the room. He can’t read Kentfield at all, but he does worm his way into Quinn’s head. It’s a strange, jarring mind, full of strange associations and add synaptic connections. He gets the sense that Quinn is not completely sane.
The alienist asks for help moving furniture out of the way, and then Corwin sees the image of a protective circle that he intends to scribe on the floor. After a few minutes of this, he hears the beginnings of a summoning spell, meant to call and bind a planar creature of some kind.
That’s all Corwin needs. He has Reana give the signal, and back in the party’s rooms, about a hundred yards away, Aris notifies the party.
“Let’s roll,” he says, and casts expeditious retreat on himself to get there as quickly as possible. Jovah casts fly and zooms out the window.
Back at Kentfield’s room, Jalea begins picking the lock on the door, as quietly as possible.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Reana asks Corwin. “I’m not sure the Duke would like this.”
“Hey,” Corwin replies. “Quinn is in their summoning something, something nasty, I’m sure, and I think that will push things a little in our favor.”
Jovah reaches the room first. As he zooms down towards an open window, he sees Quinn casting a spell near a chalk-inscribed summoning circle. Kentfield stands nearby, and happens to look out the window, seeing the gnome zooming in.
“Quinn!” he yells, pointing at the window. “Look out!”
Quinn breaks off his spell, and turns to the window, seeing the gnome. He gestures with his right hand in a fist, and a ram-shaped force field extends from his hand and through the window, just as Jovah reaches it. The gnome is sent hurtling backwards from the window.
Outside the door, Jalea hears a sound like someone smacking a side of beef with a plank of wood, followed by the sounds of shifting furniture. He finishes picking the lock, and opens the door just as Aris arrives.
They step into the room, swords drawn. The room is arranged a little haphazardly, with a rug over the central area where Corwin believed Quinn to be casting his spell. There is no outward sign of the summoning circle, and Kentfield is standing by one of the windows, calmly latching the shutters closed. There is no sign of Quinn in the room.
“Well, isn’t it nice to have visitors,” Kentfield says, sarcastically. “What can I do for you?”
Preparations are made for dinner. The group decides to “dress down” for dinner, leaving armor, and most weapons behind. Jovah glyphs the armoire in their chambers to guard the left-behind stuff. Soon after, they hear the bells signalling dinner time.
They return to the Duke’s Great Hall, and notice, among other things, that the painted ceiling, which earlier showed a day time sky, has now shifted to a night-time, twilight. A long table has been set in the Hall, seating twenty to a side, with Duke Alfric and Lady Meriven at the head of the table.
The party is not surprised to see Arlen Kentfield and the alienist Quinn sitting at the table. The same, however, cannot be said of them. Kentfield nearly chokes on a grape when he sees the party walk in, and Quinn’s eyes get wide in shock.
Jalea waves to them, cheerily.
The party is seated in the last eight chairs on the opposite side from Kentfield and Quinn. Jovah is sitting closest, with Corwin nearby to translate, as the gnome doesn’t speak elvish. Jalea sits at the very far end of the table, as far from Kentfield as possible. He notices Quinn and Kentfield urgently whispering to each other. The elf takes a sip of wine, and chases it with a potion of clairaudience.
“How did they get here?” Quinn is asking urgently. “This is terrible, terrible news! What do we do now?”
“Relax,” Kentfield replies. “They cannot take any action here while we are guests of the Duke, right? We’ll have to move up our plans. We will finish our business here tonight, and then depart at the earliest opportunity. We need to be back in our own world by the Solstice.”
Quinn nods, and tries to relax, but this seems to be a difficult task for the alienist.
Meanwhile, an elvish lady sitting next to Jovah asks him something in elvish. He graciously raises his glass and nods emphatically to whatever it is she said.
Midway through dinner, Jovah is trying to convince Gavin to challenge somebody to a joust in order to drum up some gambling. Kentfield interrupts his conversation.
“I would think that you would have had your fill of pushing your luck,” the demonologist says, in perfect elvish.
“Really?” Corwin responds, also in elvish. “I would have that that it is you that would be concerned about pushing your luck.”
Jovah nudges Gavin excitedly. “I think he’s placing some bets for us!”
The rest of dinner passes uneventfully. The party returns to their chambers and debate what to do next. After some heated discussion, they decide to keep an eye on their foes. Corwin, Jalea, and Reana all head down towards the tower that Kentfield is staying in. Aris’ hawk, Whistlethorne, is nearby ready to call his master if Reana gives the signal. Corwin casts detect thoughts and sneaks to just outside the oaken door.
The wizard identifies the two minds in the room. He can’t read Kentfield at all, but he does worm his way into Quinn’s head. It’s a strange, jarring mind, full of strange associations and add synaptic connections. He gets the sense that Quinn is not completely sane.
The alienist asks for help moving furniture out of the way, and then Corwin sees the image of a protective circle that he intends to scribe on the floor. After a few minutes of this, he hears the beginnings of a summoning spell, meant to call and bind a planar creature of some kind.
That’s all Corwin needs. He has Reana give the signal, and back in the party’s rooms, about a hundred yards away, Aris notifies the party.
“Let’s roll,” he says, and casts expeditious retreat on himself to get there as quickly as possible. Jovah casts fly and zooms out the window.
Back at Kentfield’s room, Jalea begins picking the lock on the door, as quietly as possible.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Reana asks Corwin. “I’m not sure the Duke would like this.”
“Hey,” Corwin replies. “Quinn is in their summoning something, something nasty, I’m sure, and I think that will push things a little in our favor.”
Jovah reaches the room first. As he zooms down towards an open window, he sees Quinn casting a spell near a chalk-inscribed summoning circle. Kentfield stands nearby, and happens to look out the window, seeing the gnome zooming in.
“Quinn!” he yells, pointing at the window. “Look out!”
Quinn breaks off his spell, and turns to the window, seeing the gnome. He gestures with his right hand in a fist, and a ram-shaped force field extends from his hand and through the window, just as Jovah reaches it. The gnome is sent hurtling backwards from the window.
Outside the door, Jalea hears a sound like someone smacking a side of beef with a plank of wood, followed by the sounds of shifting furniture. He finishes picking the lock, and opens the door just as Aris arrives.
They step into the room, swords drawn. The room is arranged a little haphazardly, with a rug over the central area where Corwin believed Quinn to be casting his spell. There is no outward sign of the summoning circle, and Kentfield is standing by one of the windows, calmly latching the shutters closed. There is no sign of Quinn in the room.
“Well, isn’t it nice to have visitors,” Kentfield says, sarcastically. “What can I do for you?”
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