The Secret Scion
- Thread starter Isida Kep'Tukari
- Start date
stonegod
Spawn of Khyber/LEB Judge
Tondrek's head sort of sloshes side to side as folks decide who will go with who; he was not particularly concerned. Once everything seemed to have settled, he looks up at Silent Lumpy Man (who really wasn't all that silent these days). "'K. Go now? Shipy ships?"
Rayni and Tondrek's research: [sblock]Rayni helps with researching the half-orc's strange request, and pays gold for the privilege of searching Morgrave University's library. Luckily, Morgrave has possibly the most extensive collection of works both of and about Xen'drik in Khorvaire. The picture of the building Tondrek provided you with, along with the name of T'grothnay, give you a good starting point. Tracing the name backwards through the (very spotty) known family trees of giant royalty, then cross-referencing it to known ruins and styles of architecture, you believe you can narrow the possible location of this Dawnforge shrine down to a relatively small area. Between the ruins of Tharkgun Dhak and Pra'xirek, deeper into the continent, past one of the headwaters of the Hydra river, and near the peak of one of the taller mountains in a mountain range known to ancient records as Ruthar Kov ("Pillars of the Sky"). If the ancient shrine still stands, it will be there.[/sblock]
Shenystari, Rayni, Mel, and Bail
The appointed time comes and your little merry band prepares themselves as if going into battle. Though it's a very peculiar battle, as you all need to bring out your finest clothes and manners. Arden Fair lives in an upper-class district, and to walk through there wearing battered armor or peasant's clothing was an invitation to the Watch to turn you away without further adieu. Bail finds himself parting with a bit of his money to have a fine set of clothes tailored to fit him, and to have a barber groom his wild hair for the first time... ever. His axe is encased into an embroidered and beaded sheath to match his new sable-and-dark green finery, and though he probably feels like a dandy, he at least won’t raise any eyebrows in Ocean View. The three women can instruct him in mannerly behavior, at least so he can pass for a noble superficially.
The view from the high towers of Ocean View is spectacular, and the district lives up to its name by offering a clear view of the ships leaving and departing the harbor. The homes are large, spacious, with large windows to catch the breezes. Pale rainbow colors and small parks abound, and richly dressed people walk the streets laughing and talking. Well-dressed guards are also in abundance, and strangers are carefully watched, particularly if they seem out of place. A slightly shabby merchant is run off while you stroll the streets, but Shenystari’s knowledge of Arden’s students gave you enough of a hint of how to dress appropriately; you are not stopped.
At the gates of a pale blue house, the front gates stand open, revealing the fine park-like yard within. Cushions soften the marble steps up to the massive front doors, and Shenystari notices Opal sitting on one talking to several of her friends. When she spots her tutor, she gives a wave and gestures her over. “I’m so glad you came! I just know you’ll love to hear Arden’s philosophy in person, he’s such a wonderful speaker…” the young woman gushes on for several more minutes. The young woman Shenystari is talking to is a young blonde woman of obvious aristocratic birth. She bears no scars or other indications that she’s ever been sick or injured, and has the healthy, well-nourished look of someone who’s never suffered a day of deprivation in her life. She wears silk clothes of a fashionable cut, and a small fortune in opal and silver jewelry. Her friends are easily as richly garbed, and all carry satchels of papers, books, graphite sticks, and other writing utensils.
More people arrive, some obviously expected and prepared, others simply wandering by and taking a curious seat. One nobly dressed woman comes and sits next to Shenystari, and smiles at her absently before going back to looking around the gardens.
Shenystari [sblock]You feel the metal presence of another kalashtar mindlink, and then a faint mental whisper brushes your mind. Sister, it was you who led us here. I am Febratari, and I stand beside you should our worst fears be realized. This man, if he is our enemy, will not be able to spread the corruption any longer. Already our people have looked into him, and he does not appear to be as he seems. Simple facts back up your own suspicions and clear readings.[/sblock]
Eventually the doors to the manor were thrown open dramatically, and out strolled a strongly handsome man. He wore an open silk shirt in a brilliant shade of blue, matching his eyes and showing off a muscled chest. Curly blonde hair just touched his shoulders, and a half-smile played on his lips. “Welcome my friends, and welcome those newly come to my house. I am Arden Fair, the founder of the Illuminated Minds. Here I hope to share my philosophy with you, so that you may grow spiritually, and become the true enlightened souls that lie in each of us,” he says as he crosses to a cushion on the top step. His voice is like bronze bells, warm, strong, and persuasive. His personal charisma is undeniable, and the reason that many of his students are women becomes blindingly obvious.
Bail notices no scars on Arden’s skin, and no calluses on his hands that would come from arms training. Though he looks strong, Bail thinks he could easily take him in personal combat. His eyes lack the hard shrewdness of one that has fought for his life over and over, and he does not seem to be wary of his surroundings. Here he obviously feels safe.
Arden begins his talk, speaking of ways of ordering thoughts and clearing the mind, meditation techniques, the necessity of careful and deliberate action, and a great deal more besides. Though he is persuasive, he seems to be advocating self-improvement and independent thought. He’s not a fanatic, indeed he gives veiled scorn of religion. He’s obviously a snob of sorts, he seems to consider those that waste their lives in “vulgar idle physical pursuits,” will end up “destroying their potential, and drag their soul down to the base level of animals.” However, he seems very accepting of different types of people, provided they’re willing to use his techniques to “improve” themselves.
“Opal ir’Daga, you have been with us for several months, and I know you have been a most excellent student. Would you be so kind as to assist me?” Arden asks as he talk draws to a close. Opal gets up, torn between wanting to bounce with happiness and look properly dignified. Arden takes a slender goblet and pours a dark liquid into it from a dark blue bottle, and gestures for Opal to sit at his feet, her back to him. “This is wine infused with herbs, it’s used to help grant a clear view of the mind’s own hidden images. Only those properly trained can make use of it, but I know Opal is well on her way to enlightenment,” he says with a note of caution in his voice for the others in the crowd.
Opal smiles, then takes several deep breaths to center and calm herself. She raises the glass and then drains it in two swallows. Arden sits behind her to help support her as the wine takes hold, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Opals eyes open after several minutes, now solid pools of shadow. A faint pale green light surrounds her, one Shenystari immediately recognizes
. After a few moments, she begins to speak in a strange and hollow voice. “I see… a diamond, perfection, pure… It is shadowed, chaos swirls around it… I can clear it, I can see myself in the diamond, I can place myself in its perfection. Light! I can see it within, it’s so beautiful, the darkness fleas before the golden and red light!” Opal pauses and sighs, and a chill runs up the party’s spine.
Shenystari
. Rayni can see
. Mel recognized
. Bail
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hxaptos, Harolk, and Tondrek
The three men head down to the dockside district of Sharn’s Welcome, hoping for a change of pace, a change of scenery, and an escape from either boredom or unwelcome thoughts. Or both. The place is thick with sailors and stevedores, taverns and bordellos, loose women and drunken men. Laughter and curses fill the air, and merchants compete to sell trinkets, food, and information to the vast parade of visitors.
Hxaptos had heard of a place that was supposed to be quite a bit of fun, without the risk of getting your purse lightened more than you intended. It was a place called the Drunk Duck Inn, a former cargo ship that had dropped anchor several years ago and simply had the docks built around it. Now it was entirely locked away from open water, but still provided a familiar berth to those that didn’t care to leave the sea for long. You could even fish off the sides, as most ships traveled far too swiftly for sailors to actually have fresh fish during their time at sea.
The place had a pair of gnome bards sitting on the top of the cabin, dueling with pennywhistle and banjo, as several extremely drunk sailors stumbled through a jig. Laughter roared from both above and below decks, and the scent of grilled fish overwhelmed with stink of unwashed bodies and stale beer that normally permeated this district.
Taking a seat on deck, an amply-endowed serving wench came by with mugs of cold ale and platters of grilled fish for all three, accepting their silver and serving them with a wink. Harolk was rather surprised, however, when a slender hand clapped him on the shoulder. Behind him stood a slender woman with white-blonde hair, a rapier and dagger in matching white-leather sheaths on her hips, dressed in skin-hugging black leather pants, blue silk shirt, and a white silk sash. Querzana Lightningblade, one of his dueling partners, gave him a brilliant smile. “Hello there Harolk! Didn’t expect to see you here, handsome. Who are your friends-?” she starts to say, but is cut off as a screaming fills the air.
On the board next to the kitchen had been a note that there was going to be some fresh rugelt ready later that night. Apparently, according to the drawing, rugelt is a massive beast, something like a large fish with the thick plating of a crab. You saw something big, wrapped in a sail, being heaved into the galley as you were coming in… A frantic man comes dashing up from belowdecks, waving his hands and shouting.
“It’s not dead, it’s not dead! Heavens help me, my daughter’s in there!” he cries. The man suddenly spies the well-armed adventurers, and dashes over to them, even as the whole inn begins to rock violently. The drunken sailors begin to leap onto the dock, deserting the inn like rats leaving a sinking ship. “Please help me! The damnfool chef didn’t make sure it was dead, and my daughter is in the galley with that murderous thing! Save her, please save her, you can have anything you ask!” the man cries.
Shenystari, Rayni, Mel, and Bail
The appointed time comes and your little merry band prepares themselves as if going into battle. Though it's a very peculiar battle, as you all need to bring out your finest clothes and manners. Arden Fair lives in an upper-class district, and to walk through there wearing battered armor or peasant's clothing was an invitation to the Watch to turn you away without further adieu. Bail finds himself parting with a bit of his money to have a fine set of clothes tailored to fit him, and to have a barber groom his wild hair for the first time... ever. His axe is encased into an embroidered and beaded sheath to match his new sable-and-dark green finery, and though he probably feels like a dandy, he at least won’t raise any eyebrows in Ocean View. The three women can instruct him in mannerly behavior, at least so he can pass for a noble superficially.
The view from the high towers of Ocean View is spectacular, and the district lives up to its name by offering a clear view of the ships leaving and departing the harbor. The homes are large, spacious, with large windows to catch the breezes. Pale rainbow colors and small parks abound, and richly dressed people walk the streets laughing and talking. Well-dressed guards are also in abundance, and strangers are carefully watched, particularly if they seem out of place. A slightly shabby merchant is run off while you stroll the streets, but Shenystari’s knowledge of Arden’s students gave you enough of a hint of how to dress appropriately; you are not stopped.
At the gates of a pale blue house, the front gates stand open, revealing the fine park-like yard within. Cushions soften the marble steps up to the massive front doors, and Shenystari notices Opal sitting on one talking to several of her friends. When she spots her tutor, she gives a wave and gestures her over. “I’m so glad you came! I just know you’ll love to hear Arden’s philosophy in person, he’s such a wonderful speaker…” the young woman gushes on for several more minutes. The young woman Shenystari is talking to is a young blonde woman of obvious aristocratic birth. She bears no scars or other indications that she’s ever been sick or injured, and has the healthy, well-nourished look of someone who’s never suffered a day of deprivation in her life. She wears silk clothes of a fashionable cut, and a small fortune in opal and silver jewelry. Her friends are easily as richly garbed, and all carry satchels of papers, books, graphite sticks, and other writing utensils.
More people arrive, some obviously expected and prepared, others simply wandering by and taking a curious seat. One nobly dressed woman comes and sits next to Shenystari, and smiles at her absently before going back to looking around the gardens.
Shenystari [sblock]You feel the metal presence of another kalashtar mindlink, and then a faint mental whisper brushes your mind. Sister, it was you who led us here. I am Febratari, and I stand beside you should our worst fears be realized. This man, if he is our enemy, will not be able to spread the corruption any longer. Already our people have looked into him, and he does not appear to be as he seems. Simple facts back up your own suspicions and clear readings.[/sblock]
Eventually the doors to the manor were thrown open dramatically, and out strolled a strongly handsome man. He wore an open silk shirt in a brilliant shade of blue, matching his eyes and showing off a muscled chest. Curly blonde hair just touched his shoulders, and a half-smile played on his lips. “Welcome my friends, and welcome those newly come to my house. I am Arden Fair, the founder of the Illuminated Minds. Here I hope to share my philosophy with you, so that you may grow spiritually, and become the true enlightened souls that lie in each of us,” he says as he crosses to a cushion on the top step. His voice is like bronze bells, warm, strong, and persuasive. His personal charisma is undeniable, and the reason that many of his students are women becomes blindingly obvious.
Bail notices no scars on Arden’s skin, and no calluses on his hands that would come from arms training. Though he looks strong, Bail thinks he could easily take him in personal combat. His eyes lack the hard shrewdness of one that has fought for his life over and over, and he does not seem to be wary of his surroundings. Here he obviously feels safe.
Arden begins his talk, speaking of ways of ordering thoughts and clearing the mind, meditation techniques, the necessity of careful and deliberate action, and a great deal more besides. Though he is persuasive, he seems to be advocating self-improvement and independent thought. He’s not a fanatic, indeed he gives veiled scorn of religion. He’s obviously a snob of sorts, he seems to consider those that waste their lives in “vulgar idle physical pursuits,” will end up “destroying their potential, and drag their soul down to the base level of animals.” However, he seems very accepting of different types of people, provided they’re willing to use his techniques to “improve” themselves.
“Opal ir’Daga, you have been with us for several months, and I know you have been a most excellent student. Would you be so kind as to assist me?” Arden asks as he talk draws to a close. Opal gets up, torn between wanting to bounce with happiness and look properly dignified. Arden takes a slender goblet and pours a dark liquid into it from a dark blue bottle, and gestures for Opal to sit at his feet, her back to him. “This is wine infused with herbs, it’s used to help grant a clear view of the mind’s own hidden images. Only those properly trained can make use of it, but I know Opal is well on her way to enlightenment,” he says with a note of caution in his voice for the others in the crowd.
Opal smiles, then takes several deep breaths to center and calm herself. She raises the glass and then drains it in two swallows. Arden sits behind her to help support her as the wine takes hold, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Opals eyes open after several minutes, now solid pools of shadow. A faint pale green light surrounds her, one Shenystari immediately recognizes
as one associated with psionic power
Shenystari
recognizes the imagery. The diamond is a mental construct, a place where Opal’s true soul will be trapped while a quori would inhabit her body. The colors of gold and red are associated with some of the quori, symbols of wealth and blood.
the girl is clearly not in control of herself. Many Aerenal elves use trances to speak with their ancestors’ spirits, those that did not exist in corporeal form, but this was not a trance, it had more in common with… a possession
the scene before her, she had seen it in her mother’s crystal. Though she could not see the strange demon-like nightmare images within, the position, the words, the feelings were very familiar…
can see something on Arden’s face, something beyond the intense concentration and concern he was intent on showing. He had seen it on the face of his goblin tormentors, it was the expression of a man watching an animal about to blunder into a trap…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hxaptos, Harolk, and Tondrek
The three men head down to the dockside district of Sharn’s Welcome, hoping for a change of pace, a change of scenery, and an escape from either boredom or unwelcome thoughts. Or both. The place is thick with sailors and stevedores, taverns and bordellos, loose women and drunken men. Laughter and curses fill the air, and merchants compete to sell trinkets, food, and information to the vast parade of visitors.
Hxaptos had heard of a place that was supposed to be quite a bit of fun, without the risk of getting your purse lightened more than you intended. It was a place called the Drunk Duck Inn, a former cargo ship that had dropped anchor several years ago and simply had the docks built around it. Now it was entirely locked away from open water, but still provided a familiar berth to those that didn’t care to leave the sea for long. You could even fish off the sides, as most ships traveled far too swiftly for sailors to actually have fresh fish during their time at sea.
The place had a pair of gnome bards sitting on the top of the cabin, dueling with pennywhistle and banjo, as several extremely drunk sailors stumbled through a jig. Laughter roared from both above and below decks, and the scent of grilled fish overwhelmed with stink of unwashed bodies and stale beer that normally permeated this district.
Taking a seat on deck, an amply-endowed serving wench came by with mugs of cold ale and platters of grilled fish for all three, accepting their silver and serving them with a wink. Harolk was rather surprised, however, when a slender hand clapped him on the shoulder. Behind him stood a slender woman with white-blonde hair, a rapier and dagger in matching white-leather sheaths on her hips, dressed in skin-hugging black leather pants, blue silk shirt, and a white silk sash. Querzana Lightningblade, one of his dueling partners, gave him a brilliant smile. “Hello there Harolk! Didn’t expect to see you here, handsome. Who are your friends-?” she starts to say, but is cut off as a screaming fills the air.
On the board next to the kitchen had been a note that there was going to be some fresh rugelt ready later that night. Apparently, according to the drawing, rugelt is a massive beast, something like a large fish with the thick plating of a crab. You saw something big, wrapped in a sail, being heaved into the galley as you were coming in… A frantic man comes dashing up from belowdecks, waving his hands and shouting.
“It’s not dead, it’s not dead! Heavens help me, my daughter’s in there!” he cries. The man suddenly spies the well-armed adventurers, and dashes over to them, even as the whole inn begins to rock violently. The drunken sailors begin to leap onto the dock, deserting the inn like rats leaving a sinking ship. “Please help me! The damnfool chef didn’t make sure it was dead, and my daughter is in the galley with that murderous thing! Save her, please save her, you can have anything you ask!” the man cries.
Last edited:
Rystil Arden
First Post
"She's...about to be possessed by an evil spirit of some sort. Is that what the Quori spirits are...just like an incorporeal undead..." Rayni will either whisper to Sheny if she thinks she can't be overheard or just think it to herself. The next she speaks aloud regardless, "We need to snap her out of it right now or it will be too late and your friend will be dead to the world, trapped all alone, with only the evil spirit remaining."
*Rayni is ready to blast Arden Fair, this time shaping her blast in the form of purifying silver flame (or the form of an invisible blast of force, hoping that it will be harder to trace the blast back to her, if this is possible), to save the girl before she is consumed.*
'This...perhaps this is the time when I can prove my life has purpose, even if it means it must end here...prove to everyone...to the Ancestors...to myself...'
*Rayni is ready to blast Arden Fair, this time shaping her blast in the form of purifying silver flame (or the form of an invisible blast of force, hoping that it will be harder to trace the blast back to her, if this is possible), to save the girl before she is consumed.*
'This...perhaps this is the time when I can prove my life has purpose, even if it means it must end here...prove to everyone...to the Ancestors...to myself...'
Last edited:
stonegod
Spawn of Khyber/LEB Judge
On the way to the Drunk Duck, Tondrek ooh and aahs the special lifts used to make the descent. He spends his time examining them, babbling incessantly about "alteration transmuation" or "evoking manifestation" and some-such.
~~~
As the room begins to break out into terror, Tondrek flings his arms over his head, looking for danger. In the orphanage, screaming was usually bad. Bad things were bad. When the man begins yelling about his daughter, the half-orc looks at him between his covering arms with a watery eye.
"Uhmm... they can help. I think. He got big sword!" Then, a bit fainter, "I know not fishy fish."
~~~
As the room begins to break out into terror, Tondrek flings his arms over his head, looking for danger. In the orphanage, screaming was usually bad. Bad things were bad. When the man begins yelling about his daughter, the half-orc looks at him between his covering arms with a watery eye.
"Uhmm... they can help. I think. He got big sword!" Then, a bit fainter, "I know not fishy fish."
Erekose13
Explorer
"Action? What? Let's go!" exclaims Hxaptos as he charges down the stairs past the guy. As he moves he draws his mace and shield. If combat and experience is what's needed then sometimes you just have to call on the Fury and its great to be able to do it at a moments notice now.
The Fall of Arden Fair
Bail watches the preacher closely as he leads the congregation in the, somehow disturbing, ritual. His eyes stare unblinking at the man, a dark anger bubbling and boiling slowly within as he recognised the look on the man's face. It was a look he had seen before, a look that haunted his dreams. It was the same look his goblinoid gaurds had given him as a young boy. It was a look that bespoke ownership, a look that ridiculed, a look that demeaned, and, worst of all, a look that meant a long slow death.
"STOP" he bellowed, his booted feet slapping upon the tiled floor as he slowly strode forward "She shall not be yours man! he shouted, his eyes flicking across the crowd looking for any sign of attack "She shall not suffer under your yoke. She shall not be your thrall, your vassal to do with as you please. I don't like you." the smartly dressed youth spits menacingly "Why don't you convert someone your own size?" Bail says scorn dripping from every word.
Bail watches the preacher closely as he leads the congregation in the, somehow disturbing, ritual. His eyes stare unblinking at the man, a dark anger bubbling and boiling slowly within as he recognised the look on the man's face. It was a look he had seen before, a look that haunted his dreams. It was the same look his goblinoid gaurds had given him as a young boy. It was a look that bespoke ownership, a look that ridiculed, a look that demeaned, and, worst of all, a look that meant a long slow death.
"STOP" he bellowed, his booted feet slapping upon the tiled floor as he slowly strode forward "She shall not be yours man! he shouted, his eyes flicking across the crowd looking for any sign of attack "She shall not suffer under your yoke. She shall not be your thrall, your vassal to do with as you please. I don't like you." the smartly dressed youth spits menacingly "Why don't you convert someone your own size?" Bail says scorn dripping from every word.
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