Mark of the Raven, Chapter 1 - 'Convergence'

[Kishin]

Sul, Eyre 12, 998 AK

Starilaskur, Breland

An industrial city situated on the junction of two major lightning rail lines, Starilaskur fairly bustles with activity on most days, and today is no exception. Streetside vendors hawk their wares loudly as wagoncart laden with goods brought in by farmers from the nearby countryside rumble past, while slender Zil gnomes weave in and out of the throng, deftly manuevering past the larger inhabitants of the city. Nearby a group of Warforged haul massive slabs of cut stone to the site of construction for several new structures in the city's mercantile district as a garrulous dwarf barks instructions from atop a dappled grey pony. Overhead, a bright midday sun shines down upon the restless city, casting its predominantly grey and white stone buildings into stark relief.​

Ranos' missive was brief and to the point. The Captain had never been one to mince words, after all. After a brief apology for his absence, the letter moved straight on to his request. The commander's words seemed tinged with reluctance. Doubtless he was aware of the difficulty of what he asked. The Last War had been over for two years now, and the Iron Ravens disbanded for nearly twice that. Only a fool would believe that many of his former charges would have already moved on, eager to put a history of violence and bloodshed behind them. For Dhakken Ranos to reach out to his long lost family for help, none of whom he had seen or even written in nearly four years, whatever troubled him must be no laughing matter. What exactly that was, however, was anyone's guess. The letter had been as sparse on details as it was on words. "If you choose to honor an old soldier's request, come to Starilaskur, to The Sword and the Rose. Speak to the proprietor, Ollan d'Ghallanda. There, everything will be explained." Another oddity. The Captain seldom expressed any great flair for the enigmatic.​

The Sword and The Rose. A moderately sized inn located in the western half of the city and owned by the Hospitalers Guild. A sign bearing the establishment's logo, a red rose entwined about the blade of a gleaming silver longsword, hangs over a stout oak doorway engraved with the crest of House Ghallanda, swaying lazily in the breeze. Inside, a large, wood-floored reception area sprawls outward in vaguely rectangular, its walls dotted with numerous framed paintings of varying style and quality. A dining area filled with a dozen or so tables lies east through an archway, while a stairway at the northern end of the room leads upwards to the inn's second level. A long, squat desk of dark teakwood sits in the center of the room, manned by a bushy haired, brown bearded Halfling who appears to be keeping one eye on the door and another on the ledger in front of him. Every now and again he rakes his gaze appraisingly over an entrant to the lobby before quickly directing his eyes back to the ledger in front of him, almost as if he were attempting to cross reference what was seen with what is written.​

OOC Notes:
[sblock]The first person to post is assumed to be the first person to arrive. Anyone who posts afterward, unless they would specifically prefer to arrive some minutes later, will most likely notice that first person (and any subsequent arrivals) in the main room. Also, all the previous members of the Iron Ravens (Galec, Farsis, Ixen and Breyer) would mostly like recognize each other on sight, at least as fellow members of the unit and acquaintances.[/sblock]

((Another thing, which Galec's post alerted me to: All the previous members of the Iron Ravens (Galec, Farsis, Ixen and Breyer) would mostly like recognize each other on sight, at least as fellow members of the unit and acquaintances.))

 

[MrCjeli]

Denihade, Changeling Beguiler

A young man in a dirty traveler's cloak enters the establishment, bumping into an exiting patron as he enters. He mutters a quick apology while brushing back a lock of his unkempt blonde hair. Spotting the halfling sitting alone at the table, his eyes light up and he nearly trips over himself as he hurries across the room. He raps twice on the table and clears his throat.

"Ollan d'Ghallanda? I was contacted by one Dhakken Ranos. My name is Horat Fierlen," The youth smiles and stands at exagerated attention, his palm resting on the hilt of his shortsword.

 

[jkason]

Galec Setou, shifter cleric

Galec's shoulders twitch as he enters the building. He never was a fan of ceilings. He slides down the hood of his cloak and looks about. No one he recognizes, in any case. Maybe he's the first. Or late?

He shakes his head and grunts, rolls his shoulders again to ease his anticipation, then walks toward the counter, waiting semi-patiently for the ill-kept young human to finish his business at the desk.

 

[ByteRynn]

Breyer walks into the establishment, scanning the room, recognizing an old friend.
"Bless my boulders! Galec? Is that you ya' mangy mutt? Ah, still blessin' Dol Dorn up an' down an' back an' forth I see. Come on, let an old soldier buy you a drink."

He moves to a table, sitting, and gesturing at a chair across the way, inviting the cleric to sit down.

"What you drinking these days?"

 

[Hanuman47]

Wen, kalashtar Psychic Warrior 1/Soulknife 1

Still exhilirated by his ride on the lightning rail, Wen makes his way through town, smiling and nodding to everyone he passes along the way. A handsome youth, he is dressed simply, although his clothing and gear are obviously new. He carries no weapon, but the glint of a chain shirt is visible from time to time beneath his tunic.

He pauses uncertainly at the door of The Sword and The Rose. He pulls a letter from his pocket and reads it again slowly. With the parchment sheet still gripped in one hand, he enters the inn and is surprised when Ranos' name is the first thing he hears. Without hesitation, Wen approaches the pair waiting for entrance. "Excuse me for intruding, but I couldn't help but overhear that you are here to see Dhakken Ranos. So am I. My name's Wen." He extends a hand and a smile to the shifter and human.

 

[nonamazing]

Ixen'vaerirlym

"Hail, Master Coldstone!" Breyer looks up from his table as the inn door slams shut and a large, boisterous human male bounds across the floor. "By the Seven Flames, it is good to see my war brother once again! And if my eyes are not decieved, Galec the Raven sits beside you!"

Ixen grins as the dwarf and shifter look up at him in confusion. "Ah, can it be that you do not recognize me?" Ixen removes his heavy dragonhelm, allowing his long brass hair to fall across his shoulders and back. "Heh! It is true that when last we stood together I was but a scrawny child of less than fifteen summers. Do you not recall the boy who used to dance among the campfires for your amusement?"

'The fire boy', as the Ravens knew him, has in fact grown considerably over the last four years, developing into a broad and powerful adult. But his eerie brass-colored eyes have not changed, nor has his child-like and infectious grin.

Ixen takes Breyer's hand and shakes it vigorously. "There is much for us to speak of, my friends. No doubt a great deal has happened to each of us in the last four years. Let us sit and drink together."

Ixen looks at Wen, still grinning. "A dragon's blessing upon you, strange-eyes. I do not believe I have met you before, though in the darkness of your hair you could be brother to Galac here. I am named Ixen'vaerirlym, though you do me no offense if you use 'Ixen' to call me."

 

[Azaar]

Farsis Nightshadow -- Ranger 1 / Warlock 1

The doorway to The Sword and the Rose opens once more, this time to admit a hooded and cloaked figure who steps to the side to keep from blocking the entrance to the building. Quietly, the figure surveys the scene, until unseen eyes settle on the growing group. After a moment, the figure slowly makes his way over towards them.

"Some faces never change," comes an unmistakeable baritone voice from within the folds of the cloak. Lifting back the hood, Farsis Nightshadow -- the Iron Ravens' resident enigma before its' dissolution -- looks over the assorted group. "Some of us, however, change quite a bit." The faint hint of a small smile plays across his lips. "Have we found Master d'Ghallanda yet, so that we can learn more about the Captain's missive... or deciding who's paying for the first round of drinks?"

 

[Kishin]

As the atmosphere of the Sword and the Rose quickly transitions from quiet to boisterous with the arrival of the Iron Ravens, the Halfling at the desk fumbles at his ledger, hastily making a series of marks on the current page. His abrupt, rapid fire movements nearly dislodge the inkwell at his side, though his free hand darts out in a surprising display of reflexes to catch the vial before it smashes against the floor. At the mention of 'Master d'Ghallanda' by Farsis, the Halfling perks up.

"Aye, I'm Ollan d'Ghallanda." He supplies. "So you're Ranos' boys, eh? There were a few more of your lot here earlier. They had a sitting room upstairs put aside before stepping out about two hours ago. You're free to wait for them there, or here, even. They'll have to pass this way anyway to get upstairs. The dark haired Elf was with them, Ranos' old right hand." The innkeeper pauses momentarily, searching his memory. "Izril, if I recall. His half brother's there as well. Haven't seen anything of your captain, though." he shrugs.


((The following is common knowledge to the former Ravens. Wen has probably heard at least the names and maybe one or two stories related to the pair from his father. If Horat/Denihade has done any investigation into the Ravens history prior to his assumption of his present identity, he too may recognize the names. Izril and Arlas are pretty prominent in the history of the unit.))

Izril Deleyr
[sblock]

Despite his position as Captain Ranos' right hand, most of the Iron Ravens know little of Izril's exploits before his time in the unit. That he was a freelance mercenary for some time is almost certain, and that Ranos deliberately sought him out and recruited him into the unit is also well known. His features strongly hint at a heritage amongst the Aereni, though his family has lived in Khorvaire proper for some time now. His magical talent is also indisputable, and his predilection toward evocation has provided the Ravens with ample firepower over the years. This, combined with his overall grasp of tactics has led most of his former companions to trust him implicitly, even if he chooses to share little of his pastwith them. His efficacy speaks for itself. Even his half brother does not have much to offer in way of explaining Izril, though this is perhaps in some part due to the significant age gap between the two (Izril, as a result of his Elven heritage, is several decades older than Arlas). All in all, Izril displays a seemingly genuine interest toward the members of the Ravens (He tutored the regiments other budding arcane spellcasters, and even taught Nakaz, the company's Shifter infantry commander, how to read Common), though he still remains for the most part a private and often distant person. After the Ravens dissolution, Izril is thought to have traveled far afield, perhaps to Q'barra or even Xen'drik.​

[/sblock]

Arlas Eslari
[sblock]

Arlas is something of a rarity these days in Khorvaire: Half-elf born of the union between Elf and Human, rather than two half-elves. He shares a mother with Izril, and it was through his sorcerous half brother's influence that he found himself serving amongst the Iron Ravens. The two siblings' relationship is confusing at best, and both are vastly different in appearance and manner. The wry, silver-tongued Arlas shares both his father's wit and bardic profession (Though the two have never met), while Izril's cool patience and regal bearing is more in line with the pair's mother. Though not much of a fighter, the red-haired half-elf excels at intelligenceand dealing with others. During the Last War, Arlas was in charge of arranging the Ravens contracts and providing logistics on its allies, enemies and destinations. His sources are almost perfectly reliable, and he has at times been credited as being as vitalor the units success during the Last War as the Captain and Izril were. Arlas has been known to quip about this on more than one occasion, and seems to find the idea incredibly amusing.​

Arlas was one of the last to depart when the Ravens dissolved, and is thought to have spent the years following the War working as an inquisitive in Sharn. He is the only one who seems to have engaged in an active search for Captain Ranos during this time.​

[/sblock]

 

[jkason]

Galec Setou, shifter cleric

Galec's somewhat overcome by the flood of former colleagues who follow him quickly in the door. He mostly smiles and nods as they approach and re-introduce themselves. Head still realing a bit, the revelation that Izril and Arlas have been and gone without the captain finally snaps him back to himself.

"I think it best we take the private room," he offers with a look to the others. Having been an apprentice during his time with them, he feels best getting their approval before proceeding.

"The captain's note was vague, which makes me think it best we conduct our business out of the public eye," he says a little more softly, hoping the halfling can't hear his lowered pitch.

 

[ByteRynn]

"Aye, that will let us speak and drink more freely. Master d'Ghallanda! Show us this room, please."