Paths of Legend - Tragedy at Silvergard

[Jemal]

"I know now my purpose in life, M'lady, and it is to be by your side." William looked down at Estelle's form, allmost lost from sight, watching her until she finally dissapeared before finally turning around and heading down the 'shortcut', determined to not loose another second. "I WILL return for you, and to put the rest of these damned fiends out of our way."

Perhaps it was his worry for Estelle.. Perhaps the large amount of time they'd spent together, or perhaps something else entirely, a supernatural reflection of his soul on his body, but at the moment William turned away from the Necropolis, his skin was ashen and grayed, his face showing the wear and stress of a man many years his senior. Sir William noticed nothing of this, noticed only the trail ahead and the fading army behind. And so he moved as swiftly as his tired feet would take him, uneringly closing the distance - however great or small it may be - to his companions, and to Estelle's salvation.

 

[Voda Vosa]

"Aye, ye be speaking, and quick if ye please, Ah'll have no doubt in smashin' ye if ye'r to attack us!" Muzdum says, not as calmed as the others.

 

[Helfdan]

Valen says nothing, but keeps a firm grip on his bow.

 

[crazy_monkey1956]

Meeting the Elves

The elf sets his bow down and holds his hands up in a gesture of friendship, responding in Sylvan to Johen, "We are far from our own forests, but, yes, we are friends."

In Common to the rest of the group, "Perhaps it is coincidence that we meet on this mountain side, but I do not believe in coincidences. My group of six are headed to the Silvergard plateau to find some sign or portent that might give us insight into the reason the Dragon of the Silver Spires has fallen ill. And here we meet you, with a dragon. It cannot be just coincidence."

Meanwhile, the dragon is still preening and picking at its scales, leaving exposed, tender looking, coppery flesh.

The Paladin Alone

The shortcut quickly becomes treacherous, a narrow path cut directly into the cliff face, switching back on itself many times. Hours become days as William trudges onward, his supplies dwindling.

Time passes.

His waterskin had dried up a couple of days ago, his rations were nearly gone, and the cliff seemed to soar upward into the heavens themselves. A woman's voice, whispering, sibilant and seductive, calls to him.

"I will help you. I will guide you. But you must do something for me in exchange. I need a body. The Dagger will provide me with one."

 

[Voda Vosa]

"Fer me granmomy beard! Elfs and trees, well tha's just perfect! Ye know, fer once, just fer once, Ah'll like to find someone Ah could trust! *grumble* ...first trees... *grumble* now elfs... *mumblings* ... dragons..." Muzdum says, and sits down on a log, in what seems to more a falling than a sitting.

 

[Amaury]

Johen responds to the gesture and says looking at his comrades for their approval: "Well, that is indeed a strong coincidence.. hmm, maybe you care to come and sit by the fire.."

He looks at the elf as he comes closer, studying his clothing and distinctive marks.
He says quietly to Valen in Tureni: "My friend, do you know his tribe? The coincidence is a bit too strong for my own taste.."

After kneeling down by the fire and inviting the elf to do so, Johen says: "Sooo, your group is looking at ways to protect the dragons of the silver spine.. Are they your allies? We have just met this young dragon a few minutes ago.. he was wounded and I healed some of his wounds.. he said he was being chased by orcs but also that his race was victim of a sort of plague.. there seems to be numerous signs that things are not right with the Silvergard plateau.."

OOC: not sure what role to do to identify something about that elf. please roll what you feel is appropriate.

 

[Helfdan]

Valen shakes his head at Johen's question, then slings his bow over his shoulder as he addresses the elf. "What is this Dragon of the Silver Spires, neighbor?"

 

[Yttermayn]

With the lack of threat of immediate violence, Aohdan sheaths his sword and listens intently. He allows his more knowledgeable companions to guide the conversation while he keeps an eye out for any more uninvited guests.

Listen: (1d20+3=15)

 

[Jemal]

William shook his head, looking up the trail and then around for whomever had spoken. "If you desire to help, then show yourself, and be done with your vagueries. Speak plainly, as I've little time for word games or tricks."
The Paladin looked around for the voice, unable to place it, but sensing that something was not right.


OOC: Uh-oh. Whispering, sibilant, seductive voices never belong to good people. Why can't good guys be sexy?

 

[crazy_monkey1956]

Speaking of Spires

The elf comes closer into the light of the fire. His garb is unfamiliar to the group, except Aohdan, who remembers the high elven armies that he and his parents accompanied during the Shadow War, when Aohdan was but a foal, before his head injury. The elf's attire reminds Aohdan of the elite archers who were often absent from the main army as they scouted enemy encampments.

The elf replies to Johen and Valen, "The Dragon of the Silver Spire is the oldest mortal silver dragon in this world, born to the Silver Elder Dragon mere moments after the birth of the world. She has resided in the Silver Spire in the grey elven lands for the past several centuries. And she is now quite ill."

Shraezek, meanwhile, has begun to rummage around the camp and is currently trying to poke his nose into Alaric's belongings.

The Paladin on the Cliff

A ghostly woman appears before William, blond hair billowing as if from a strong wind, unclothed and semi-translucent, the cliff-face visible behind her through her body.

"I was wrongly imprisoned, but now I am free. But I need a body. Help me and I will guide you to what you seek."