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Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
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<blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 3067917" data-attributes="member: 198"><p>As promised, here is what we've handled so far between sessions:</p><p></p><p>*********************************************************************</p><p>Six emerges from the water, carrying the very unconscious and barely alive bard who was leading the enemy.</p><p></p><p>Luna, meanwhile, is still staring at her arm. She, and anybody else who cares to look, can see her wounds gradually healing, at approximately the same rate as it does when she uses a <em>lesser vigor</em> spell. What the others can’t see, however, is the gentle warmth Luna feels emanating from the snakelike band around her forearm.</p><p></p><p>The healing begins at the arm, the nearest wound (a deep cut on the shoulder) closing gradually, and then the next wound beginning to seal itself, and so on. At the current speed and with the extent of her injuries, it will take over ten minutes for them to close, but the healing shows no signs of abating. </p><p></p><p>Gurr’khan looks at the healing wounds, with eyebrows raised, and then grunts, “Nice work. Did you just use some magic I didn’t notice, or is this something else I should be concerned about?” </p><p></p><p>Then he turns to look at Six and the bard, and heads over. “Good work. I should make sure he doesn’t die. I have a few questions for the fool.”</p><p></p><p>"Well, Gurr’khan,” says Nameless, walking beside him, “I am getting mighty tired of people taking whacks at us. Do you have any problems with us smashing this tribe? I want to impress upon these tribes that we are trifled with at their peril.”</p><p></p><p>Nameless goes on to suggest that Six have his ears blocked and have his chain wrapped around the bard’s neck while they interrogate the bard to find out what was behind the attack.</p><p></p><p>Gurr’khan grins, but there’s little mirth in it. “From what Surr’kal told me, you folks have been having that happen a lot.” He throws the unconscious bard a look and says, “But I’d rather we not go off and start dropping <em>fireball</em>s and <em>flame strike</em>s on a village full of women and children. It’s not like the River Snakes, or most of the clans or tribes, whatever their beliefs, to just attack travelers. Let’s talk to this one first.”</p><p></p><p>Gareth nods. “While some in this village may be violent, to destroy the entire village would be evil. To destroy the warriors of this village, which are also the hunters, would also be evil.” <em>We either find a way to speak with them, or we find another way.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Nameless grins. “Who are you and what have you done with Gareth?” The paladin just stares at him unamusedly.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Luna uses a charge of <em>lesser vigor</em> to revive the bard. He opens his eyes with a pained groan and tries to sit up, before hitting the limits of the chain. His eyes flicker back and forth, panic evident in them for a moment, as well as more than a little surprise as he sees Korm, Luna and Nameless all still alive. Then he quickly seems to grow calmer. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>”What do you fools want?” he asks, his voice containing a trace of the melody it’s capable of, but drowned out by the pain of his wounds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Well,” says Nameless, “I was just going to wipe out your village and tribe, but he (pointing at Gurr’khan) wanted to find out if there was some reason for your attacking us first. Considering that we took a risk to find out what happened to some of your missing hunters, I’m happy to oblige you if you’d rather just die.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>An expression of surprise flits across the captive’s face and he begins, “Find out what happened to our hunters ...?” Then he stops, and the expression quickly changes to a scowl. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“You lie. The Khyber Serpent spoke to my people last night, warning that you had come to defile our sacred sites. I saw and heard it myself. Some of the fools were not sure, since it was not the shamans who saw it, but my people and I knew that the Serpent speaking to us was a sign of the importance of the situation. So we came, and here you are. We would have returned in triumph with your heads, if not for your damned luck.” By the time he’s done, he’s almost shouting, though evidently possessing enough of a sense of self-preservation not to try an escape. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gurr’khan, listening intently, says, “He’s an idiot. The Khyber Serpent, I believe, is their clan totem. The totems only speak through the tribe’s shamans.” He grunts and adds, “Mainly because that’s a bloody good way for the shamans to retain significant power in the tribes. Which is easier with idiots like this one.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The captive just glares at Gurr’khan, but doesn’t add anything.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Korm, with his knowledge of the Marches, corroborates what Gurr’khan says, and adds that there are some daelkyr ruins within the swamp. While the Gatekeepers, and the clans/tribes that lean towards them, try to keep people away from such sites, the Cults of the Dragon Below venerate these locations.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Nameless walks over and pulls out the blade that they found. He shows it to the bard, telling him how they recovered them from the lair of the chuul that attacked them, and where it was. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“Unfortunately, we killed all the chuul, but I’m sure we can find something unpleasant enough to feed you to. Defiling holy sites wasn’t originally on our itinerary for this trip, but I’m sure we can spare enough time to oblige you. I’d hate for you to have gone through all this trouble to attack us and then not defile them like you were expecting us to. That would be rude.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The bard looks at the blade and then back up at Nameless. “Why should I believe you?” His brow furrows slightly, and then he continues, “You are a very fine liar, but the Serpent has told me of you and your people, and that is all I need to know.” </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>With more vehemence, he adds, “And your threats mean nothing. My people will come searching for me, and if they find you here they will kill you. And if you visit the sacred sites, then they will certainly follow and kill you. There were only ten of us here and we almost bested you.” He pauses to glare at Luna, Korm and Gurr’khan. “Even the aid of the Gatekeepers will not save you from the hundreds of my clan. You can kill me now, but your deaths will follow. Swiftly.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Once he’s done, Gurr’khan grunts, “Like I said, he’s an idiot. Fanatical one, which is always an entertaining sort. The one thing he’s right about is the clan thing. They take it very seriously here, as Korm’akhan can tell you, and they’re sure to have more looking for this bunch, though how soon, is the question.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>”Actually, another question is this whole snake totem thing.” Gurr’khan walks over to the captive and says, “Whether you believe it or not, we had no intention of violating any of your sites. Your totem, or whatever it was, lied to you. How’d you know it was your totem, anyway? Maybe you just had too much to drink.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The bard glares up at him and snarls, “You blaspheme what you do not know. I saw it with my own eyes, and others did too. It appeared an hour before dawn, near the edge of the village, a giant green serpent wreathed in flame, floating in mid-air. It was the Khyber Serpent, exactly as the shamans describe it. It said that intruders had come to violate its sacred site, and that the clan should rise to crush them. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>There were six of us there, and four ran to call one of the shamans, but we,” he pauses to glance at his dead compatriot in the heavy armor, “Waited and listened. The serpent told us exactly where you would be and that there were six of you. It described you perfectly. It said to slay you all and to take your possessions to the sacred site, and then it disappeared, right before the others returned with two of our shamans.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>”The shamans questioned us and did not believe, saying that the Khyber Serpent speaks only to them, but I know that the appearance was a sign of its favor. And so we came here with our warriors. If the others had listened, you would be dead by now.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Nameless favors the bard with a contemptuous sneer. “Obviously he’s a dupe for whoever was poking around here last night. I doubt his Flaming Serpents are hairy, wet and leave bootmarks. Offhand I’d guess that it was Desro’s acquaintances. They’re easily good enough with disguises and illusions to fool a sucker like this joker. Plus they’d likely know about the dragonshard we got off Desro and how to use it to track us. Finally, the ‘claws on the stone’ fit in too well with the wet hair for it to be a coincidence.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Let’s get going. I’ve no desire to waste my time fighting with a bunch of duped proxies. We can always come back and wipe them out later if they keep bothering us.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gurr’khan chuckles a little grimly. “I’d bet a fair amount that you’re right on most, if not all, of those counts. And moving on is a good idea. Saala will be expecting us.” </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>He jerks a thumb at the bard, who’s listening with a slightly confused expression. “What do you want to do with this? Could send him back with a warning not to bother us again, but I don’t know how well that would work. Anyway, he attacked your group and almost killed some of you, so it’s up to you to decide what to do. I really don’t care.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Nameless says, “We’ll leave him here tied up with a note, nailed to his forehead, explaining how he got used, by whom, and how his stupidity got his comrades killed for their foolishness in believing him. If you can send a copy via an animal to his village as well, that would be good. I want them to know where to find this idiot so they can mock and humiliate him as he deserves. Death is too easy for someone like him. Make sure they listen to their shamans next time.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>We’ll leave the hunter’s blade and include the location of the hunters’ bodies in the note as well. The rest of the stuff we’ll take; they forfeited them when they attacked us. Now how to get him to wait here peacefully? Gurr’khan, could you persuade an animal to sit here and eat his face if he tried to get out of the ropes?”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gurr’khan is grinning so widely by the end of Nameless’s speech that his head threatens to come off. “You’re a strange man, Nameless, but I like the way you deal with problems.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>He looks around the area. “I can find an animal to keep an eye on him. Sending a message will be more complicated, and I don’t think we need to bother. Somebody or other will come looking for this bunch.” </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gurr’khan points at a couple of low, but sturdy trees. “How about tying the idiot to one of those, but put him a little off the ground? I want to make sure he’s alive when found, and however friendly I make an animal, it might get peckish. Stick the corpses under the trees and stake them to the ground. And back up a little distance when I get back with an animal.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>With that, he walks down to a more watery, swampy area, casts a couple of spells, turns into a crocodile and slithers into the water. About half an hour later, he returns, accompanied by two more crocodiles. Gurr’khan leads them out of the water and to the corpses. The two crocodiles promptly grab a corpse and try to drag it away, but the stakes hold it in place. Gurr’khan growls something at them and they stop trying to pull away the corpse. They rip off some pieces instead, evidently having trouble because it’s still fresh meat.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gurr’khan walks over to join the rest of the Angels and changes back into his normal form. “Those two will stay around for a while. Now let’s move before anyone gets here.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The bard is left trussed up tightly to the tree, out of reach of the crocodiles. He persists in making dire (and fairly amusing) threats about the vengeance that his clan, the Khyber Serpent, the denizens of the swamp, etc. will extract from them. Finally, exasperated, Gurr’khan sticks a temporary gag in his mouth. “He’ll be able to work it loose soon enough,” he grunts, “But at least we don’t have to listen to his blithering.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>His judgement is correct, since by the time the bard manages to get rid of the gag, the Angels have wrapped up their camp and are preparing to leave, this time on one <em>phantom steed</em> and three <em>phantom stag</em>s. The mounts canter down the hill and into the swamp, the angry shouts of the bard fading quickly behind them.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The area they are heading into seems to have slightly more large vegetation than the previous sections of the swamp that they have seen, but it is not enough to really slow down the magical mounts. One of the reasons for the increase in vegetation is that there is relatively more solid ground (or rather, more mud than water) to travel across or through, and since the mounts treat it like a paved highway, they set a very good pace. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gurr’khan estimates they are about an hour’s travel from Saala, and his judgement is accurate. Just over an hour later, they ride into the largest collection of trees they have seen in these parts, forming a large wood. As they enter and move through the trees, they note that it seems darker in there than it should be, the sunlight not penetrating between the trees as would be expected. Small wisps of smoke or mist drift through the air. It also seems quieter somehow, sound not traveling as well as it should.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>A few minutes later, the group emerges suddenly onto the bank of a large, still pool, stretching over a thousand feet in length and perhaps half that in width. The waters are an inky black and mist-shrouded, making the opposite shore difficult to see. The sky seems very cloudy and much darker than it was when they rode into the trees only minutes ago. The trees come right down to the edge of the water, except for the long shallow bank the mounts emerged onto and a large low hill, bare of trees, which can be seen through the mist, looming over the water on the far shore.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>About a hundred feet away is a small tent pitched near the water. Sitting outside the tent, facing each other, are two women. One is an old half-orc, short and stout, her long white hair tied in a braid. The other is an even older human, much thinner, with a surprisingly skeletal face, the skin pulled tight across her skull, which is covered with thinning hair. She has a ragged cloak wrapped around her, and the Angels feel there is something unusual about her posture, though they can’t say yet what it is. Both turn to look as the riders emerge from the forest, and then the half-orc rises to her feet.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>She walks towards them, and Gurr’khan rides forward. “Saala,” he says, with a nod, and then dismounts.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>She nods back and then looks up at the rest. “I am Saala Torrn. You are welcome.”</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="shilsen, post: 3067917, member: 198"] As promised, here is what we've handled so far between sessions: ********************************************************************* Six emerges from the water, carrying the very unconscious and barely alive bard who was leading the enemy. Luna, meanwhile, is still staring at her arm. She, and anybody else who cares to look, can see her wounds gradually healing, at approximately the same rate as it does when she uses a [I]lesser vigor[/I] spell. What the others can’t see, however, is the gentle warmth Luna feels emanating from the snakelike band around her forearm. The healing begins at the arm, the nearest wound (a deep cut on the shoulder) closing gradually, and then the next wound beginning to seal itself, and so on. At the current speed and with the extent of her injuries, it will take over ten minutes for them to close, but the healing shows no signs of abating. Gurr’khan looks at the healing wounds, with eyebrows raised, and then grunts, “Nice work. Did you just use some magic I didn’t notice, or is this something else I should be concerned about?” Then he turns to look at Six and the bard, and heads over. “Good work. I should make sure he doesn’t die. I have a few questions for the fool.” "Well, Gurr’khan,” says Nameless, walking beside him, “I am getting mighty tired of people taking whacks at us. Do you have any problems with us smashing this tribe? I want to impress upon these tribes that we are trifled with at their peril.” Nameless goes on to suggest that Six have his ears blocked and have his chain wrapped around the bard’s neck while they interrogate the bard to find out what was behind the attack. Gurr’khan grins, but there’s little mirth in it. “From what Surr’kal told me, you folks have been having that happen a lot.” He throws the unconscious bard a look and says, “But I’d rather we not go off and start dropping [I]fireball[/I]s and [I]flame strike[/I]s on a village full of women and children. It’s not like the River Snakes, or most of the clans or tribes, whatever their beliefs, to just attack travelers. Let’s talk to this one first.” Gareth nods. “While some in this village may be violent, to destroy the entire village would be evil. To destroy the warriors of this village, which are also the hunters, would also be evil.” [I]We either find a way to speak with them, or we find another way. Nameless grins. “Who are you and what have you done with Gareth?” The paladin just stares at him unamusedly. Luna uses a charge of [I]lesser vigor[/I] to revive the bard. He opens his eyes with a pained groan and tries to sit up, before hitting the limits of the chain. His eyes flicker back and forth, panic evident in them for a moment, as well as more than a little surprise as he sees Korm, Luna and Nameless all still alive. Then he quickly seems to grow calmer. ”What do you fools want?” he asks, his voice containing a trace of the melody it’s capable of, but drowned out by the pain of his wounds. “Well,” says Nameless, “I was just going to wipe out your village and tribe, but he (pointing at Gurr’khan) wanted to find out if there was some reason for your attacking us first. Considering that we took a risk to find out what happened to some of your missing hunters, I’m happy to oblige you if you’d rather just die.” An expression of surprise flits across the captive’s face and he begins, “Find out what happened to our hunters ...?” Then he stops, and the expression quickly changes to a scowl. “You lie. The Khyber Serpent spoke to my people last night, warning that you had come to defile our sacred sites. I saw and heard it myself. Some of the fools were not sure, since it was not the shamans who saw it, but my people and I knew that the Serpent speaking to us was a sign of the importance of the situation. So we came, and here you are. We would have returned in triumph with your heads, if not for your damned luck.” By the time he’s done, he’s almost shouting, though evidently possessing enough of a sense of self-preservation not to try an escape. Gurr’khan, listening intently, says, “He’s an idiot. The Khyber Serpent, I believe, is their clan totem. The totems only speak through the tribe’s shamans.” He grunts and adds, “Mainly because that’s a bloody good way for the shamans to retain significant power in the tribes. Which is easier with idiots like this one.” The captive just glares at Gurr’khan, but doesn’t add anything. Korm, with his knowledge of the Marches, corroborates what Gurr’khan says, and adds that there are some daelkyr ruins within the swamp. While the Gatekeepers, and the clans/tribes that lean towards them, try to keep people away from such sites, the Cults of the Dragon Below venerate these locations. Nameless walks over and pulls out the blade that they found. He shows it to the bard, telling him how they recovered them from the lair of the chuul that attacked them, and where it was. “Unfortunately, we killed all the chuul, but I’m sure we can find something unpleasant enough to feed you to. Defiling holy sites wasn’t originally on our itinerary for this trip, but I’m sure we can spare enough time to oblige you. I’d hate for you to have gone through all this trouble to attack us and then not defile them like you were expecting us to. That would be rude.” The bard looks at the blade and then back up at Nameless. “Why should I believe you?” His brow furrows slightly, and then he continues, “You are a very fine liar, but the Serpent has told me of you and your people, and that is all I need to know.” With more vehemence, he adds, “And your threats mean nothing. My people will come searching for me, and if they find you here they will kill you. And if you visit the sacred sites, then they will certainly follow and kill you. There were only ten of us here and we almost bested you.” He pauses to glare at Luna, Korm and Gurr’khan. “Even the aid of the Gatekeepers will not save you from the hundreds of my clan. You can kill me now, but your deaths will follow. Swiftly.” Once he’s done, Gurr’khan grunts, “Like I said, he’s an idiot. Fanatical one, which is always an entertaining sort. The one thing he’s right about is the clan thing. They take it very seriously here, as Korm’akhan can tell you, and they’re sure to have more looking for this bunch, though how soon, is the question.” ”Actually, another question is this whole snake totem thing.” Gurr’khan walks over to the captive and says, “Whether you believe it or not, we had no intention of violating any of your sites. Your totem, or whatever it was, lied to you. How’d you know it was your totem, anyway? Maybe you just had too much to drink.” The bard glares up at him and snarls, “You blaspheme what you do not know. I saw it with my own eyes, and others did too. It appeared an hour before dawn, near the edge of the village, a giant green serpent wreathed in flame, floating in mid-air. It was the Khyber Serpent, exactly as the shamans describe it. It said that intruders had come to violate its sacred site, and that the clan should rise to crush them. There were six of us there, and four ran to call one of the shamans, but we,” he pauses to glance at his dead compatriot in the heavy armor, “Waited and listened. The serpent told us exactly where you would be and that there were six of you. It described you perfectly. It said to slay you all and to take your possessions to the sacred site, and then it disappeared, right before the others returned with two of our shamans.” ”The shamans questioned us and did not believe, saying that the Khyber Serpent speaks only to them, but I know that the appearance was a sign of its favor. And so we came here with our warriors. If the others had listened, you would be dead by now.” Nameless favors the bard with a contemptuous sneer. “Obviously he’s a dupe for whoever was poking around here last night. I doubt his Flaming Serpents are hairy, wet and leave bootmarks. Offhand I’d guess that it was Desro’s acquaintances. They’re easily good enough with disguises and illusions to fool a sucker like this joker. Plus they’d likely know about the dragonshard we got off Desro and how to use it to track us. Finally, the ‘claws on the stone’ fit in too well with the wet hair for it to be a coincidence. Let’s get going. I’ve no desire to waste my time fighting with a bunch of duped proxies. We can always come back and wipe them out later if they keep bothering us.” Gurr’khan chuckles a little grimly. “I’d bet a fair amount that you’re right on most, if not all, of those counts. And moving on is a good idea. Saala will be expecting us.” He jerks a thumb at the bard, who’s listening with a slightly confused expression. “What do you want to do with this? Could send him back with a warning not to bother us again, but I don’t know how well that would work. Anyway, he attacked your group and almost killed some of you, so it’s up to you to decide what to do. I really don’t care.” Nameless says, “We’ll leave him here tied up with a note, nailed to his forehead, explaining how he got used, by whom, and how his stupidity got his comrades killed for their foolishness in believing him. If you can send a copy via an animal to his village as well, that would be good. I want them to know where to find this idiot so they can mock and humiliate him as he deserves. Death is too easy for someone like him. Make sure they listen to their shamans next time. We’ll leave the hunter’s blade and include the location of the hunters’ bodies in the note as well. The rest of the stuff we’ll take; they forfeited them when they attacked us. Now how to get him to wait here peacefully? Gurr’khan, could you persuade an animal to sit here and eat his face if he tried to get out of the ropes?” Gurr’khan is grinning so widely by the end of Nameless’s speech that his head threatens to come off. “You’re a strange man, Nameless, but I like the way you deal with problems.” He looks around the area. “I can find an animal to keep an eye on him. Sending a message will be more complicated, and I don’t think we need to bother. Somebody or other will come looking for this bunch.” Gurr’khan points at a couple of low, but sturdy trees. “How about tying the idiot to one of those, but put him a little off the ground? I want to make sure he’s alive when found, and however friendly I make an animal, it might get peckish. Stick the corpses under the trees and stake them to the ground. And back up a little distance when I get back with an animal.” With that, he walks down to a more watery, swampy area, casts a couple of spells, turns into a crocodile and slithers into the water. About half an hour later, he returns, accompanied by two more crocodiles. Gurr’khan leads them out of the water and to the corpses. The two crocodiles promptly grab a corpse and try to drag it away, but the stakes hold it in place. Gurr’khan growls something at them and they stop trying to pull away the corpse. They rip off some pieces instead, evidently having trouble because it’s still fresh meat. Gurr’khan walks over to join the rest of the Angels and changes back into his normal form. “Those two will stay around for a while. Now let’s move before anyone gets here.” The bard is left trussed up tightly to the tree, out of reach of the crocodiles. He persists in making dire (and fairly amusing) threats about the vengeance that his clan, the Khyber Serpent, the denizens of the swamp, etc. will extract from them. Finally, exasperated, Gurr’khan sticks a temporary gag in his mouth. “He’ll be able to work it loose soon enough,” he grunts, “But at least we don’t have to listen to his blithering.” His judgement is correct, since by the time the bard manages to get rid of the gag, the Angels have wrapped up their camp and are preparing to leave, this time on one [i]phantom steed[/i] and three [i]phantom stag[/i]s. The mounts canter down the hill and into the swamp, the angry shouts of the bard fading quickly behind them. The area they are heading into seems to have slightly more large vegetation than the previous sections of the swamp that they have seen, but it is not enough to really slow down the magical mounts. One of the reasons for the increase in vegetation is that there is relatively more solid ground (or rather, more mud than water) to travel across or through, and since the mounts treat it like a paved highway, they set a very good pace. Gurr’khan estimates they are about an hour’s travel from Saala, and his judgement is accurate. Just over an hour later, they ride into the largest collection of trees they have seen in these parts, forming a large wood. As they enter and move through the trees, they note that it seems darker in there than it should be, the sunlight not penetrating between the trees as would be expected. Small wisps of smoke or mist drift through the air. It also seems quieter somehow, sound not traveling as well as it should. A few minutes later, the group emerges suddenly onto the bank of a large, still pool, stretching over a thousand feet in length and perhaps half that in width. The waters are an inky black and mist-shrouded, making the opposite shore difficult to see. The sky seems very cloudy and much darker than it was when they rode into the trees only minutes ago. The trees come right down to the edge of the water, except for the long shallow bank the mounts emerged onto and a large low hill, bare of trees, which can be seen through the mist, looming over the water on the far shore. About a hundred feet away is a small tent pitched near the water. Sitting outside the tent, facing each other, are two women. One is an old half-orc, short and stout, her long white hair tied in a braid. The other is an even older human, much thinner, with a surprisingly skeletal face, the skin pulled tight across her skull, which is covered with thinning hair. She has a ragged cloak wrapped around her, and the Angels feel there is something unusual about her posture, though they can’t say yet what it is. Both turn to look as the riders emerge from the forest, and then the half-orc rises to her feet. She walks towards them, and Gurr’khan rides forward. “Saala,” he says, with a nod, and then dismounts. She nods back and then looks up at the rest. “I am Saala Torrn. You are welcome.”[/I] [/QUOTE]
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Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
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