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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
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<blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 831431" data-attributes="member: 2323"><p><strong>[PLAIN][Realms #215b] Out of Our Hands[/PLAIN]</strong></p><p></p><p>"I still don't know how you were able to convince Lent to wait until morning," Finian muttered to Ixin after they'd extinguished the lights in Rherram's infirmary. The night was seasonably warm, but after the thorough soaking that the group had endured - not to mention the loss of blood - they decided to stoke a fire in the hearth and the low flames now lit the room with a warm glow.</p><p></p><p>"I can be very persuasive when I need to be," the woman replied. Across the room, Draelond was breathing loudly in sleep's velvety embrace and the smell of salves and herbs hung thickly in the room, overpowering even the scent of burning wood. "When I told him I would be in significantly better shape tomorrow and would thus be in a better position to help him find his daughter, I don't think he could really argue."</p><p></p><p>Finian grunted his ascent and lay silently for a few moments before rolling over onto his side to face the sorcerer. "Ixin," he hissed. "Can you tell me a bit about dragons?"</p><p></p><p>The mage smiled, the firelight flashing off her teeth as she did so. "I can try, Finian. What do you want to know?"</p><p></p><p>"Well..," the Archer considered. "What powers do dragons have?"</p><p></p><p>Ixin chuckled softly and let out a sigh. "Finian, that would take all night and I'm tired," she explained. "Do you have anything specific in mind?"</p><p></p><p>"I've heard that dragons can dominate people," Finian replied after a pause. His hand went unconsciously to his auburn hair. "Is that true?"</p><p></p><p>"You mean mental domination? Like mind control?" Ixin asked and Finian nodded. "Yes, some dragons possess such powers, but not all do. Some of the lesser races are predisposed to such control; the dragons call them Kindred."</p><p></p><p>The Archer swallowed nervously in the dim light. "Do they like humans usually?" he asked.</p><p>"Oh, yes," Ixin reassured him. "Dragons can breed with nearly anything, and humans are almost as prolific. They are well-matched to one another in that regard."</p><p></p><p>Finian swallowed again. "That's all they want them for? Breeding stock?"</p><p></p><p>"Well, no. That's not all," Ixin said. "But humans make useful servants for a dragon. And even a drop of dragon blood makes a human so much more powerful that they typically welcome the opportunity. My mother was fully half-dragon, but my father hadn't had a dragon in his lineage for three generations. He was Dragonkith but he looked entirely human." </p><p></p><p>"Dragonkith?" Finian asked.</p><p></p><p>"Mortals who bond themselves to a particular dragon or family of dragons. They gain a great deal of power over time as the bond deepens," Ixin said, stifling back a yawn. "There are many such paths that the lesser races follow in order to share a bit of draconic power. There are dragon warriors, dragon mages, dragon disciples... too many to mention."</p><p></p><p>Finian grunted his understanding and rolled onto his back. Ixin had almost drifted off to sleep when the Archer asked one more question: "Are red dragons evil?"</p><p></p><p>Ixin sighed. "If you mean are red dragons cruel, the answer is yes, many are. Dragons of any hue may develop a streak of cruelty. It is difficult for such proud creatures to avoid," she explained. "Dragons enjoy a special place in the world, Finian. Perhaps a quote from the Draconomicon will explain it better than I. In the Year of the Blessed Tears, Lord Iejiresjing of House Bloodtide said, <em>Nothing compares to the power and majesty of dragonkind, and no other dragon compares to the power and majesty or the red dragons.</em> Does that make sense?"</p><p></p><p>"Red dragons really see themselves that way?" Finian asked, trying to imagine Cynder's thought processes during their brief time together.</p><p></p><p>"They don't just see themselves that way; they ARE that way," Ixin clarified. "Dragons have existed since before the gods of the womb were born. And they remain second only to the gods in power. Is it any surprise that 'good' and 'evil' are just words to such as they?" Her voice resonated with the respect she held for her dragon ancestors as she spoke, but in his bunk where he lay quietly listening, Ruze felt his jaw clench. He knew in his heart that 'good' and 'evil' were much, much more than just words.</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>Freeday, the 9th of Wealsun, 1269 AE</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>"He doesn't look good," Ledare said with a note of concern in her voice. It was mid-morning.</p><p></p><p>"He isn't good," Finian told her, stroking Gordigan with the backs of his fingers. The duckbunny's furred side rose and fell with each shallow breath, but the strange animal showed no other sign of life. He was stretched stiffly atop Kirnoth's former bed in exactly the same spot that they had laid him the night before. In the gray light streaming in through the rain-spattered window, they could plainly see that the silver band of fur around Gordigan's throat had visibly faded. What that meant, no one was sure.</p><p></p><p>"I don't know what to do," the ranger admitted. "I can't get him to eat or drink. He's not responding like a normal animal."</p><p></p><p>"He isn't a normal animal," Ixin said. Martivir was perched on her left shoulder, regarding the others with his curious round eyes. "He's a familiar, which makes him inherently magical - linked inexorably to his master, Kirnoth."</p><p></p><p>"That doesn't bode well for Kirnoth, then," Ledare grimaced, looking at the cataleptic duckbunny.</p><p></p><p>"Actually, if Kirnoth were dead, then his familiar would have already become a free-willed beast. So the fact that Gordigan hasn't wandered off to live what ever sort of life such a creature as he normally lives is actually a good sign. It means that his master yet lives," the mage offered hopefully. "Of course, I don't know what his current condition means for your friend."</p><p></p><p>"Hopefully, we'll find out today," Finian said, giving Gordigan one last pat before standing up and resting his hands on the pommels of the longsword and dagger in his belt. "My priorities are getting Kirnoth and finding the girl. These are things we cannot come back to. Time is of the essence and Umba only gives us limited opportunities for some actions."</p><p></p><p>"Kirnoth's dagger?" Ledare asked, eying the pommel of Finian's knife. The Archer nodded.</p><p></p><p>"We should use his gear for rescuing him," he explained. "Kirnoth would have wanted that. Perhaps Ixin can "borrow" that spell book we took off that wizard in Othelwood. I saw it amongst Kirnoth's gear."</p><p></p><p>Ledare shot him a scathing look, but Ixin shook her head. "I don't need a book," she told him with a proud smile. "The dragonblood flowing through my veins fuels my magic."</p><p></p><p>"Well maybe it has a spell you don't-" Finian started to argue but a loud pounding on the door to the infirmary cut him off. Ledare crossed to the door and opened it to reveal a very wet Dent Lent clutching his quarterstaff and looking miserable. He wore a chainmail shirt and a traveller's cloak whose hood kept his face relatively dry despite the weather.</p><p></p><p>"I'm here to see Ixin," he said gruffly as he stepped in out of the rain and closed the door behind him. He was alone.</p><p></p><p>"Where are Tobrannon and the others?" Ixin asked and Lent just glowered at her for a moment.</p><p></p><p>"The caravan's moved on," he said at last, not meeting anyone's gaze. "There are schedules that have to be met - buyers who are waiting in Restenford for the caravan. I can catch up once I've found Nilia."</p><p></p><p>"So it's just you and us," Finian said and Lent nodded. Reaching into the pack at his hip, the man drew forth a scroll of vellum and offered it to Ixin.</p><p></p><p>"Gadge gave me this," he said as she unfurled the scroll. "He said it might be helpful in finding Nilia. He said you'd know what to do with it. It's some kind of magic."</p><p></p><p>Ixin squinted at the arcane symbols and formulae written in the precise, orderly hand of Torren Gadge but could make no immediate sense of it. She'd be able to decipher it with the use of Read Magic, certainly, and given enough time she might be able to without the use of the spell. She smiled and rolled the scroll tightly.</p><p></p><p>"You must thank Goodman Gadge for me when next you see him," she said and slipped the scroll into one of the many hidden pouches of her magical cloak. Lent nodded his assent.</p><p></p><p>There was another knock at the door then and the man took a step away from it. "That'll be the Watch," he said without preamble. "I noticed a watchman following me out here from town."</p><p></p><p>Again Ledare opened the door and this time revealed a dripping watchman. He was human, wearing splintmail armor and clutching a longspear in one hand and a wooden scroll tube in the other. He looked to be barely past puberty.</p><p></p><p>"Janissary?" he asked and after she nodded, offered the scroll tube to Ledare. "Baron Wicaop bade me bring you this."</p><p></p><p>The half-elf arched an eyebrow and hesitantly accepted the tube. It was sealed with the maroon wax symbol of The Realms; she unstoppered it and read the parchment inside:</p><p></p><p><em>Most honorable Janissary,</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>It is with mixed feelings that I receive news of your presence in my humble holdings. On the one hand, I am always eager to offer assistance and succor to one of His Majesty's chosen and am honored that I now have the opportunity to do so. But on the other hand, your presence is only made known to me at the same time that I receive the news that a crime most heinous has been perpetrated upon innocents who look to me for protection.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>I am told by my trusted Constable that you are aware of the kidnapping which occurred last night and of the subsequent accusations of thievery and banditry levied by Goodman Mikal Tobrannon. As you might imagine both events trouble me greatly for they represent an obvious and direct threat to trade passing along the caravan routes north, south, and east.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>It is therefore with a heavy heart that I invoke my right as the duly appointed representative of His Royal Highness, King Haermond VI and with the full authority of the Realms Council as provisioned in the Charter of the Enlightened to impress you into service for the good of both Strenchburg Junction and the Realm of Elcaden as a whole. I charge you with finding and dispensing justice upon the person or group responsible for the kidnapping of Nilia Lent and the harassment of the traders using the caravanserai.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>You may report back to me when you have completed this task I have appointed to you.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>May Ibrahil guide you, Janissary.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Lord Mayor of Strenchburg Junction, Baron Allan Wicaop"</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jon Potter, post: 831431, member: 2323"] [b][PLAIN][Realms #215b] Out of Our Hands[/PLAIN][/b] "I still don't know how you were able to convince Lent to wait until morning," Finian muttered to Ixin after they'd extinguished the lights in Rherram's infirmary. The night was seasonably warm, but after the thorough soaking that the group had endured - not to mention the loss of blood - they decided to stoke a fire in the hearth and the low flames now lit the room with a warm glow. "I can be very persuasive when I need to be," the woman replied. Across the room, Draelond was breathing loudly in sleep's velvety embrace and the smell of salves and herbs hung thickly in the room, overpowering even the scent of burning wood. "When I told him I would be in significantly better shape tomorrow and would thus be in a better position to help him find his daughter, I don't think he could really argue." Finian grunted his ascent and lay silently for a few moments before rolling over onto his side to face the sorcerer. "Ixin," he hissed. "Can you tell me a bit about dragons?" The mage smiled, the firelight flashing off her teeth as she did so. "I can try, Finian. What do you want to know?" "Well..," the Archer considered. "What powers do dragons have?" Ixin chuckled softly and let out a sigh. "Finian, that would take all night and I'm tired," she explained. "Do you have anything specific in mind?" "I've heard that dragons can dominate people," Finian replied after a pause. His hand went unconsciously to his auburn hair. "Is that true?" "You mean mental domination? Like mind control?" Ixin asked and Finian nodded. "Yes, some dragons possess such powers, but not all do. Some of the lesser races are predisposed to such control; the dragons call them Kindred." The Archer swallowed nervously in the dim light. "Do they like humans usually?" he asked. "Oh, yes," Ixin reassured him. "Dragons can breed with nearly anything, and humans are almost as prolific. They are well-matched to one another in that regard." Finian swallowed again. "That's all they want them for? Breeding stock?" "Well, no. That's not all," Ixin said. "But humans make useful servants for a dragon. And even a drop of dragon blood makes a human so much more powerful that they typically welcome the opportunity. My mother was fully half-dragon, but my father hadn't had a dragon in his lineage for three generations. He was Dragonkith but he looked entirely human." "Dragonkith?" Finian asked. "Mortals who bond themselves to a particular dragon or family of dragons. They gain a great deal of power over time as the bond deepens," Ixin said, stifling back a yawn. "There are many such paths that the lesser races follow in order to share a bit of draconic power. There are dragon warriors, dragon mages, dragon disciples... too many to mention." Finian grunted his understanding and rolled onto his back. Ixin had almost drifted off to sleep when the Archer asked one more question: "Are red dragons evil?" Ixin sighed. "If you mean are red dragons cruel, the answer is yes, many are. Dragons of any hue may develop a streak of cruelty. It is difficult for such proud creatures to avoid," she explained. "Dragons enjoy a special place in the world, Finian. Perhaps a quote from the Draconomicon will explain it better than I. In the Year of the Blessed Tears, Lord Iejiresjing of House Bloodtide said, [I]Nothing compares to the power and majesty of dragonkind, and no other dragon compares to the power and majesty or the red dragons.[/I] Does that make sense?" "Red dragons really see themselves that way?" Finian asked, trying to imagine Cynder's thought processes during their brief time together. "They don't just see themselves that way; they ARE that way," Ixin clarified. "Dragons have existed since before the gods of the womb were born. And they remain second only to the gods in power. Is it any surprise that 'good' and 'evil' are just words to such as they?" Her voice resonated with the respect she held for her dragon ancestors as she spoke, but in his bunk where he lay quietly listening, Ruze felt his jaw clench. He knew in his heart that 'good' and 'evil' were much, much more than just words. [B]Freeday, the 9th of Wealsun, 1269 AE[/B] "He doesn't look good," Ledare said with a note of concern in her voice. It was mid-morning. "He isn't good," Finian told her, stroking Gordigan with the backs of his fingers. The duckbunny's furred side rose and fell with each shallow breath, but the strange animal showed no other sign of life. He was stretched stiffly atop Kirnoth's former bed in exactly the same spot that they had laid him the night before. In the gray light streaming in through the rain-spattered window, they could plainly see that the silver band of fur around Gordigan's throat had visibly faded. What that meant, no one was sure. "I don't know what to do," the ranger admitted. "I can't get him to eat or drink. He's not responding like a normal animal." "He isn't a normal animal," Ixin said. Martivir was perched on her left shoulder, regarding the others with his curious round eyes. "He's a familiar, which makes him inherently magical - linked inexorably to his master, Kirnoth." "That doesn't bode well for Kirnoth, then," Ledare grimaced, looking at the cataleptic duckbunny. "Actually, if Kirnoth were dead, then his familiar would have already become a free-willed beast. So the fact that Gordigan hasn't wandered off to live what ever sort of life such a creature as he normally lives is actually a good sign. It means that his master yet lives," the mage offered hopefully. "Of course, I don't know what his current condition means for your friend." "Hopefully, we'll find out today," Finian said, giving Gordigan one last pat before standing up and resting his hands on the pommels of the longsword and dagger in his belt. "My priorities are getting Kirnoth and finding the girl. These are things we cannot come back to. Time is of the essence and Umba only gives us limited opportunities for some actions." "Kirnoth's dagger?" Ledare asked, eying the pommel of Finian's knife. The Archer nodded. "We should use his gear for rescuing him," he explained. "Kirnoth would have wanted that. Perhaps Ixin can "borrow" that spell book we took off that wizard in Othelwood. I saw it amongst Kirnoth's gear." Ledare shot him a scathing look, but Ixin shook her head. "I don't need a book," she told him with a proud smile. "The dragonblood flowing through my veins fuels my magic." "Well maybe it has a spell you don't-" Finian started to argue but a loud pounding on the door to the infirmary cut him off. Ledare crossed to the door and opened it to reveal a very wet Dent Lent clutching his quarterstaff and looking miserable. He wore a chainmail shirt and a traveller's cloak whose hood kept his face relatively dry despite the weather. "I'm here to see Ixin," he said gruffly as he stepped in out of the rain and closed the door behind him. He was alone. "Where are Tobrannon and the others?" Ixin asked and Lent just glowered at her for a moment. "The caravan's moved on," he said at last, not meeting anyone's gaze. "There are schedules that have to be met - buyers who are waiting in Restenford for the caravan. I can catch up once I've found Nilia." "So it's just you and us," Finian said and Lent nodded. Reaching into the pack at his hip, the man drew forth a scroll of vellum and offered it to Ixin. "Gadge gave me this," he said as she unfurled the scroll. "He said it might be helpful in finding Nilia. He said you'd know what to do with it. It's some kind of magic." Ixin squinted at the arcane symbols and formulae written in the precise, orderly hand of Torren Gadge but could make no immediate sense of it. She'd be able to decipher it with the use of Read Magic, certainly, and given enough time she might be able to without the use of the spell. She smiled and rolled the scroll tightly. "You must thank Goodman Gadge for me when next you see him," she said and slipped the scroll into one of the many hidden pouches of her magical cloak. Lent nodded his assent. There was another knock at the door then and the man took a step away from it. "That'll be the Watch," he said without preamble. "I noticed a watchman following me out here from town." Again Ledare opened the door and this time revealed a dripping watchman. He was human, wearing splintmail armor and clutching a longspear in one hand and a wooden scroll tube in the other. He looked to be barely past puberty. "Janissary?" he asked and after she nodded, offered the scroll tube to Ledare. "Baron Wicaop bade me bring you this." The half-elf arched an eyebrow and hesitantly accepted the tube. It was sealed with the maroon wax symbol of The Realms; she unstoppered it and read the parchment inside: [I]Most honorable Janissary, It is with mixed feelings that I receive news of your presence in my humble holdings. On the one hand, I am always eager to offer assistance and succor to one of His Majesty's chosen and am honored that I now have the opportunity to do so. But on the other hand, your presence is only made known to me at the same time that I receive the news that a crime most heinous has been perpetrated upon innocents who look to me for protection. I am told by my trusted Constable that you are aware of the kidnapping which occurred last night and of the subsequent accusations of thievery and banditry levied by Goodman Mikal Tobrannon. As you might imagine both events trouble me greatly for they represent an obvious and direct threat to trade passing along the caravan routes north, south, and east. It is therefore with a heavy heart that I invoke my right as the duly appointed representative of His Royal Highness, King Haermond VI and with the full authority of the Realms Council as provisioned in the Charter of the Enlightened to impress you into service for the good of both Strenchburg Junction and the Realm of Elcaden as a whole. I charge you with finding and dispensing justice upon the person or group responsible for the kidnapping of Nilia Lent and the harassment of the traders using the caravanserai. You may report back to me when you have completed this task I have appointed to you. May Ibrahil guide you, Janissary. Lord Mayor of Strenchburg Junction, Baron Allan Wicaop"[/I] [/QUOTE]
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