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Mark of the Raven, Chapter 1 - 'Convergence'

Kishin said:
Wen has probably heard at least the names and maybe one or two stories related to the pair from his father.
Probably not. I wasn't very clear on this, but I meant to say in my background that Ranos' note was sent on behalf of Wen's birth father, whom he doesn't know at all. Adnan, his human father, is a simple farmer.


Feeling a bit overwhelmed, but determined to keep up, Wen exchanges greetings with the all of the Iron Ravens. "Great idea. My trip has left me very, uh, thirsty." He has the strangest craving for a glass of iceberry wine and is half way to the bar to order one before he realizes in confusion that there is no such thing. Not wanting to appear unsophisticated in front of the well traveled mercenaries, he orders a glass of the finest wine. Wen nearly chokes at the price, and chokes for real when he pours the liquid fire down his throat. He contents himself with holding the glass and attempting to appear worldly.
 
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Farsis Nightshadow -- Ranger 1 / Warlock 1

"Indeed," spoke up Farsis. "Whatever this is about, we should keep the prying eyes and ears to a minimum... especially if it's something as important as the Captain's missive claims."
 

"I recall Commander Izril. He was a powerful magus, grand and terrible. Our foes would quake with terror as he called down rains of fire upon them. But I do not believe I ever met his half-brother, though I must have heard the name at some point, for it sticks in my memory."

"If they are expected to return here soon, then we wait--though I'll partake only lightly of drink. If danger does indeed haunt our heels, then we'll no doubt need the sharpness of our wits about us." Ixen makes his way up the creaking stairs and into the private room.

OOC:
If at all possible, Ixen will take a seat near a window, preferably one overlooking the front of the inn (so he can see if the other Ravens arrive). He will activate his draconic senses aura, which will give everyone within thirty feet (probably everyone in the room) a +1 bonus on Spot and Listen checks, as well as a +1 bonus on Initiative checks. He'll keep this aura active until further notice.
 

Denihade, Changeling Beguiler

Denihade wordlessly assents to the wishes of the other former Ravens. He makes eye contact with server, smiles, and indicates "Ale." He falls in behind who introduced himself as Ixen, scratching absently at his nose. From what the man said earlier, he doubts he knew Grell. But what of the others? Could they have been his subordinates? Allies? Friends? The changeling resolves to be wary of his companions for the time being: they could prove both useful or harmful to his cause.
 

Ollan inclines his head in a brief nod at the group's request for usage of the room. "Right up the stairs and to your right. I'll tell the others you've arrived once they return."​

Upstairs, the sitting room is of moderate size, capable of accomodating perhaps some two dozen individuals. Glass doors with drawable curtains for those seeking privacy mark its entrance, and inside a number of padded couches and chairs are scattered throughout the room. Against the western wall is a small table, upon which rests a vase filled with local flowers. Two large windows are set into the far wall, allowing light to enter the room and providing a fair view of the street below. At the center of the room is an long oval table ringed in chairs. An inkwell, a large map of Breland and a half empty bottle of wine rest on it, evidence, perhaps, of the previous occupants.​

Some moments after the group settles themselves, a waifish looking halfling girl makes her into the room, and, smiling sheepishly, deposits a tray laden with snacks and ale at the edge of the table. The girl departs as quickly as she arrived, leaving the party alone in once more in the room.​

It is perhaps a half hour before the group is disturbed again. A party of four approaches the room's glass doors, their leader, a regal looking Elven male, his hair the color of raven's feathers and his lean form clad in a fine indigo doublet and dark gray pants wastes no time in gently pushing them open. Following almost immediately behind him is a man whose contrast of pointed ears to otherwise human facial features mark him as a half-elf, his short, thick red hair hanging over one eye at a rakish angle. The two pulling up the rear are a hulking Shifter male, his dark hair worn in a multitude of long braids that hang to his shoulder and a tall, sharp eyed, brown skinned and dark haired human female garbed in well worn leather. The familial resemblance between the first two is enough to identify the pair as Izril and Arlas to all present. The other two, however, are familiar only to the men they once served alongside. Edaura Masvidel, the commander of the Iron Ravens outriders, and Nakaz, one of the infantry captains under Captain Ranos.
"Hmph. Only ten so far? A weak showing." Nakaz grunts. The Shifter nods a greeting to Galec before snatching a handful of wafers off the food tray and shoving them into his mouth.​

"We don't even know how many of us were invited, Nakaz." Edaura points out. "Even Izril said as much, and the Captain's letter to him gave him specific instructions. Where is the Captain, anyway? Didn't Goran go looking for him years ago? How come we've heard nothing of that?"​

Edaura's words elicit a snort and a headshake from Arlas. "I ran into Goran last Sypheros. Unless the Captain is at the bottom of an ale flagon in Lower Dura, Goran won't be finding him anytime soon." Arlas responds dryly. The half-elf's mood shifts quickly, however, and a smile soon plasters itself across his face. "Nevertheless, its good to see so many old faces in one place again!" he pauses. "And some new, I see." He remarks, glancing at Wen and Horat. His gaze quickly darts back to Ixen. "...You're the Seren boy, aren't you? Olladra's Eyes, you're bloody huge now. How in the name of the Sovereign Host are you here? We all assumed you returned to Argo.....your homeland." He manages.
Before Arlas can continue his greetings and well wishes, Izril interrupts him. "It is as Edaura said. There is much to discuss, and much that needs answering. For now, let us attend to questions. I've explained something of the situation to these three. I will gladly answer any questions my old companions have, but first, I would like to know who you are, newcomers, and what brought you here. I do not doubt the Captain's reasons for making you a part of this, but I would prefer to know more of you before we undertake this task."
Nakaz
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A Beasthide shifter by birth, Nakaz grew up in a small village in the Eldeen Reaches, untouched by the ravages of the Last War. That is, until a Thranish infantry unit decided to requisition food supplies from the hamlet, and when its inhabitants refused, set it aflame. Nakaz and the village's other warriors attempted to resist, but were eventually driven off by the superior arms and training of the Thranish soldiers. Homeless, Nakaz wandered Khorvaire in search of an opportunity for revenge, eventually encountering Captain Dhakken Ranos and his ragtag Iron Ravens. Seeing the vagabond warrior's plight, Ranos offered the shifter a place amongst the Ravens, but not after thrashing him soundly when the enraged Nakaz attempted to assault the Masvidel siblings (Edaura and Sarim) out of loathing for their Thranish heritage. Nakaz soon proved his worth to the unit as much through animal cunning and sharp wit as his terrifying strength and battle prowess.
For the most part, Nakaz is terse, impolite and entirely uncivilized despite years spent in human company. He is, however, nearly fearless and incredibly protective of his own, and has rescued numerous members of the Ravens from certain death on the battlefield. He has also proven himself a capable commander when the situation demands it, though he prefers to defer that role to others more suited to it, such as Edaura or Izril.​
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Edaura Masvidel
[sblock]
The daughter of an exceptionally devoted Paladin of the Flame, Edaura grew up in the shadow of an even greater religious fervor than most Thranes experience. Differences in opinion between Edaura and her somewhat overzealous father drove her to flee her homeland at the age of 16, taking her brother Sarim, then a young initiate of the Silver Flame along with her. Keen eyes, deft hands and her consummate skill with the longbow (which her father had instructed her in the usage of since childhood) earned Edaura service in the ill-fated Greywolf Company as a scout. Two years later, When the Greywolf company was routed nearly to the man in a border skirmish near the Thrane-Karrnath border, Edaura and the remainder of her unit fell in with a recent deserter from the Karrnathi military, the legendary Dhakken Ranos, and were amongst the first members of his newly minted Iron Ravens. Edaura herself was given command over the company's outriders, and soon became one of Ranos' most trusted lieutenants.
After the dissolution of the Iron Ravens, Edaura adventured alongside Nakaz and her brother Sarim, briefly reviving the Greywolf Company name. Her brother's decision to return to Thrane and the priesthood brought a premature end to the arrangement, however, a fact which Edaura still somewhat resents.
For the most part, Edaura is a stern, pragmatic woman, hardened by years of mercenary life. She is not without emotion though; apart from Sarim, the Iron Ravens are the closest thing she has had to friends or family since she was a teenager, and she cares fiercely for each of them as a result. She also, as head of the unit's reconaissance division, feels a deep sense of responsibility toward them; Their lives, to her, depend on the accuracy of her observations and reports. Edaura is on especially close terms with both Nakaz and Arlas: The shifter has been a longtime companion of hers, and the half-elf shares her responsibility in regards to gathering intelligence for the unit. Rumors of a failed romance between the Half-elf and the Thranish woman were once bandered about during the War, but no evidence exists to confirm the relationship.​
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Farsis Nightshadow -- Ranger 1 / Warlock 1

"The same, I assume, that brought you here as well as the rest of us," replies Farsis in his typical quiet, somber tone. "A missive from the Captain himself, filled with ambiguity and enigma. Such behavior, admittedly, is hardly normal of the man I remember from my time with the company as a ranger and scout -- the Captain was never one to intentionally give lack of detail. It makes me wonder, then, what has happened that he felt the urgency to send such missives with no real details... at least to us, anyway."

His gaze focuses on Izril. "I can only assume, then, that you have knowledge concerning the reasons behind the Captain's missive. Given the nature of this missive, it would seem that time is of the essence. So... why are we here, exactly?"
 

Galec Setou, shifter cleric

Azaar said:
"I can only assume, then, that you have knowledge concerning the reasons behind the Captain's missive. Given the nature of this missive, it would seem that time is of the essence. So... why are we here, exactly?"

"Hold a moment, Farsis," Galec says, holding up a hand to the ranger. His gaze passes from Edaura to the two men he doesn't remember from the Ravens, Wen and Horat.

"If as Edaura says, we don't know how many of us recieved this request from the captain, what makes us think these two were on the list? We can each of us vouch for one or more of the others, but does any of you know them? If this mission is so important the captain didn't trus its details to be written down--" here both his tone and his gaze darken as he takes in the non-Ravens"--perhaps he feared the missives could be intercepted?"
 

"A bit paranoid, Galec," Farsis returns quietly, "but a good point nonetheless. Still, however, without knowing any details at all, how are we to make an informed decision of these matters?" He shakes his head. "We're going to be here all night if we keep bandying about semantics."
 

Azaar said:
"We're going to be here all night if we keep bandying about semantics."

"And what would be wrong with that, comrade? If you will recall, noble Nightshadow, we've camped out in much worse places than this before." Ixen throws his arms wide, indicating the cozy splendor of the room. "Here we have food, water and comfortable shelter. A true paradise compared to the two weeks we spent camped on the edge of the Demon Wastes."

"But I understand what you mean, comrade Farsis. There is little use in spending our time arguing over who has a right to be here and who does not, when only our yet-absent Captain knows the truth of the situation. I assume we are to wait for him?" asks the barbarian, looking at Izril.

"Oh, and you wished to know how I came to be here, master Arlas? I did indeed return to the Land of Dragons, where my people listened to tales of the Iron Ravens with much appreciation. I owe a great deal to Lord Ranos, may the seven flames caress his soul. He gave me so many opportunites to achieve glory--my time with the Ravens accorded me much respect among my tribemates."

"I recently returned to Khorviare at the behest of my master, and made landfall on the edge of the Shadow Marshes. I recalled that good master Grackt was known to have lived there, so I chose to seek him out." Grackt, the company chef, was, in his own way, one of the most infamous Ravens. The grizzled old half-orc wasn't a particularly good cook, but he was generous with the burnt portions he served, and willing to cook just about anything. Ixen was assigned as Grackt's assistant for a while, mostly to keep the boy out of trouble (Ixen had a tendancy to light fires when bored, so Ranos cleverly put him somewhere he'd have fires to play with all day).

"I was greatly saddened to learn that Grackt had passed away." Ixen bows his head for a moment. "His widow gave me the letter she had recieved for him. The words of Ranos lit a fire in my heart, and thus I rushed cross the lands 'twixt here and there, arriving, as it seems, at just the right moment." Ixen grins broadly at his assembled comrades. "No doubt the captain will be here with us in but a handful of moments. While we wait, however, I would be pleased to hear the tales of those assembled--surely four years passed have brought some stories before your hearts."

Ixen strolls around the small room as he talks, eventually ending up near one of the bay windows, idly fingering the heavy cloth curtains that lie to each side with an odd gleam in his eye. "Hmm...," he mutters in his native tounge, almost inaudibly. "This fabric would burn quite well..."
 

Wen looks at the shifter cleric with surprise. It hadn’t occurred to him that anyone might doubt him. He is about to explain himself when the ebullient Ixen launches into his narrative. When Ixen finishes speaking, Wen watches him for a few seconds more, hovering between amusement and bemusement. ”It’s true, I’m not one of the Iron Ravens. But I got this letter.” He holds the parchment sheet aloft for a moment. ”My father’s name was Nathalharath. I never knew him. My mother only knew him for a few hours, twenty years ago. She gave me this, from him.” He raises his right hand to show the plain silver ring on his finger. He furrows his brow, knowing that he’s not explaining things very well. ”I don’t really know what any of this is about – I just came here because the letter from Ranos asked me to come in my father’s name.” He frowns. ”I guess that means he’s probably dead. I was hoping to meet him, or at least learn more about him. Did any of you know him?”
 

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