The Tol Haggerun Prophecy - 3.5 D&D [Ended]

[Ambrus]

Jacoby will take Amber's leash, calm her down with a few words of encouragement, draw her forward and mount her. I'd been meaning to train her before sleeping, I suppose this is as good an oppurtunity as any. She has to learn to face large opponents bravely eventually. In answer to Zanpher's query, Jacoby simply says: You led me here, I thought this might be one of your friends; maybe another messenger of Bahamut. There is something queer about it. Maybe it lives here and wants us to know it. Perhaps we should look for another camp-site...

Mounted upon Amber, Jacoby will guide her into backing away slowly while continuing to face the animal. Jacoby will keep his lance leveled and ready to strike if the creature tries to draw near. Pardon us my friend; we didn't know this area was yours. We'll get out of your way now. Good night.

OOC: And congradulations on mine being your 1000th post! That's a big milestone.

 

[Ferrix]

Sharma | Refelis, Refel and Aboard the Just Looking

"Sure, why not?" Jaroth replies. "I could do with the company."

"I was planning to leave tonight, actually," Jaroth says. "Word is that the winds are ripe for southerly travel right now, so I might as well save myself a few days on the sea if at all possible. Not really much for sea travel, but it's rather necessary in my line of work."

"Pack for about a week's worth of travel," The dwarven merchant explains. "Plan to spend two days in Hrux - no more."

Jaroth tells Sharma to meet at the Just Looking, his personal merchant ship, docked in Refelis. Sharma had seen this ship a few times, but never been aboard. Night came, and the Just Looking was ready to shove off. Supplies had been loaded, as was Jaroth. A drunk dwarf was better than an anxious one when traveling by sea, and none took this axiom more seriously than Jaroth.

The Just Looking leaves Refelis harbor not too long after nightfall. Sharma finds the mixed crew amiable, if not terribly talkative. By the time the Just Looking has slipped out of sight of land, Sharma has already spoken lightly with Imro, the half-elven first mate, as well as heard the name of the captain, Kodan Spitsteel. This fellow appears to keep to himself at all times, as Sharma is warned repeatedly not to bother the captain if at all possible. Comprising the rest of the crew are half a dozen Refelic humans, a sly female half-elf named Elya Moonrise, and the half-goblin cook, Rog.

Sharma bustled home, nabbing up a small folded packet of jasmine tea, with a wink to Jaroth, "have to be convincing," he tosses the dwarf a silver coin and is out of the market, dodging and weaving through the crowds till he is home.

As he waltzed in the door, bubbling with excitement, he nearly tripped over one of the many cushions arrayed to make the meager living area comfortable. Placing the small packet of tea near the pot, he slipped into his room and gathered a few items, mostly functional ones, but a single outfit which carried some sentimental value he slipped into his bag as well. Should I take them? He never carried weapons openly, but going to a new and exciting place made him tingle with the excitement of the stories of heroes he told, and in those tales he knew that the world was not always as kind as those that surrounded him stood out as. Reaching under his small bed, he pulled out a well-wrapped bundle, the curving bell hilt of a rapier poked from one end. He drew them out one by one and laid them upon the bed, then without another thought reached into his bag and drew out the fine outfit which had been his heirloom for so long.

In a few moments an entirely different young man stepped from his bedroom only to nearly stagger as his parents rested upon the pillows, sipping on some jasmine tea. In tall leather boots, in which were tucked the ends of flowy purple pants, drawn tight with a sash of turquoise, a coiled whip upon the right hip, the rapier opposite, a silken white shirt embroidered with flowing tribal designs along the arms, and his hair pulled back by a thin leather band, Sharma stood almost overflowing with exuberance, and then foolishness as his parents looked up.

However, with their smiles, he knew he was doing the right thing. They merely nodded towards a package of simple food stuffs near the door, already wrapped and bound for travel. It was their acceptance that their son would indeed enter the world at large. He almost spoke, but with their acceptance, he stayed silent and taking up the package made his way to the docks.

Eyes turn at the sharply but less than flamboyant attired youth as he made his way there, and Jaroth nearly spit up his latest mouthful of harsh spirits as Sharma bounded up the plank onto the deck of the ship. "My boy, you do indeed astound!" The dwarf lurched about, before the deck even swayed on its own, and stumbled off to find more spirits.

Smiling, Sharma took the time and the caution to acquaint himself with the crew of the ship, although despite the warning, the solitary nature of the captain kept wandering its way across his mind. He'd approach the man yet before he would disembark. The second thing to catch his eye (the first being Jaroth's frothy face) was the half-elf named Elya Moonrise, and he found himself smiling at her without thinking. When he again approached the first mate, he inquired as to anything he could do, besides staying out of the way (as he'd already been told by everyone to do).

In time he found himself quietly alone on the bow of the ship, looking out into the night and empty sea.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Clare Karaby | Darisant, Lurien

A warm feeling overcomes Clare as she meditates in prayer. A voice comes into her mind, though it does not come from any external source.

"Clare Karaby," the voice says soothingly and evenly. "Do not tremble in the face of your destiny, for it is written that you shall unite them. You shall be the critical cog in the wheel, and will hold together all that is our one hope against the darkness."

Clare opens her eyes, and sees nothing around her save the dimly lit surroundings of her prayer area.

"Seek the Chapel of Unity, Clare," the voice continues. "Seek it out with Her guidance, and you will find it. Leave this place and all that you know. Seek the Old Man at the Great Bridge. He is one of us. Listen well to his guidance, for he is the gatekeeper on the next leg of your journey to the Chapel of Unity."

The voice is gone. Clare knows down deep that it will say no more. She looks down and opens her right hand to find a single gold coin in the palm. On the coin's face is an eagle, and on the flip side, a crystal shard.

Clare waits a few moments more, clearing and steadying her mind before going to find Father Laertes. She waits outside his chamber until he emerges, all her wordly belongings at her feet, her holy book clutched to her chest, the coin in her left hand.

"Father Laertes," she says when he comes out. "Our Lady spoke to me. She said I should leave, and that she would guide me to the Chapel of Unity. I am to seek the Old Man at the Great Bridge. Father... which direction do I go?" she asks, her voice small and uncertain.

 

[Evil Ujio]

Damn time to have a storm, Misha thinks, putting his hand to his brow. With a resigned sigh he dismounts and leads his steed to suitable place to camp.

"Now you stay here and graze, I am going to setup the camp," Misha quips before setting to the task of setting camp for the night to weather the storm, first and foremost making shelter, then preparing a fire.

 

[Insight]

Shuelsai Deng | Island of Marvoe, off the Coast of Lurien

Thanking Mistress Naradie, Shuelsai tends to his lines and makes his way toward this tavern to seek the Hermit. As he travels he wonders listlessly how she managed to emphasize the stranger's name so effortlessly, as if the word itself rolled off bold from upon her tongue...

The fishing village is quaint, with an architectural style serving function over form. There are no tall buildings of any kind - it is all a series of square structures constructed of some sort of dark wood. Shuelsai had heard that some of these islands were populated with a tree whose wood is very resilient to the salty air, and thus makes for fine construction for buildings in these sorts of villages.

It doesn't take too long before Shuelsai finds the tavern. In fact, all of the signs he sees are written in both Lur and the Trade Language, surely to accomodate what few visitors Marvoe has on occasion.

Shuelsai finds the tavern a dimly-lit place, but full of life. Most patrons appear to be fishermen or sailors of some kind. There is a trio of comely young barmaids who permeate the place, dropping off far more drinks than they tend to pick up. Nearly every chair is full of customers, and nearly every table full of glasses in varying states of fullness.

Something in the corner draws Shuelsai's attention - a man covered in a dark blue cloak, only his grizzled face peering out of the inky dark fabric. As Shuelsai gathers himself, the old man looks up, peering directly at the Kurstic fisherman, and winks, cracking a wry smile, and raises a short glass half full with a briny liquid.

 

[Insight]

Ralan

Ralan | With the House Myrrkal Caravan, Abils Fields, Lurien

As he's walking, Ralan thinks to himself:"A pair of hands over a gem...just like my dream. It's a sign."

The moment he spots Talia and her situation, Ralan halts and whispers to Avrick: She's in trouble, we need to help her. " Ralan explains that Avrick and him should get closer, split up and flank them. Ralan will get closer to the forest, to dispatch any bad guys he sees and he feels he can take care of himself.

Avrick and Ralan have no trouble closing in on Talia and her goblin archer foes. The goblins do not even notice the pair approach. After Avrick and Ralan have moved into opposing sides of the clearing and can see each other, Avrick nods, and the both of them rush in to aid their ally.

The goblin archers, unprepared, are taken by surprise. Ralan, wielding his morningstar with fury, dispatches a goblin by himself. Talia and Avrick, working together, wipe out a second goblin.

As they ready to finish off the third goblin, there is a sound of hoofbeats that draws closer and closer and closer. Before they know it, four hobgoblin riders appear, dressed in chain mail and wielding flails!

 

[Insight]

Jacoby

Jacoby | In the Northwestern Reaches of the Viltoe Mountains, Mitea

Jacoby will take Amber's leash, calm her down with a few words of encouragement, draw her forward and mount her. I'd been meaning to train her before sleeping, I suppose this is as good an opportunity as any. She has to learn to face large opponents bravely eventually. In answer to Zanpher's query, Jacoby simply says: You led me here, I thought this might be one of your friends; maybe another messenger of Bahamut. There is something queer about it. Maybe it lives here and wants us to know it. Perhaps we should look for another camp-site...

Mounted upon Amber, Jacoby will guide her into backing away slowly while continuing to face the animal. Jacoby will keep his lance leveled and ready to strike if the creature tries to draw near. Pardon us my friend; we didn't know this area was yours. We'll get out of your way now. Good night.

The bear stumbles briefly towards Zanpher, who flutters out of the creature's way in response. Ambling into the middle of the clearing, the bear sits down in front of the doused firepit.

"You may go now, Zanpher," the bear says in a deep, gravelly voice. "I can take it from here."

The green drakeling smirks. "If you say so," Zanpher replies. "You don't look so good, Raster."

Cocking his head towards Zanpher, Raster replies, "I have seen better days, but I can shepherd this little one to his destination just fine, thank you very much.".

Zanpher buzzes around for a moment, then approaches Jacoby and Amber. "Great! Looks like my work here is done. Good luck and all that!" With that, Zanpher flies into the night sky.

Raster brushes himself off, and looks down at his chest. "Oh, horsefeathers," he says. "That witch injured me... again."

 

[Insight]

Sharma

Sharma | In the Refeli Sea, Aboard the Just Looking

Sharma took the time and the caution to acquaint himself with the crew of the ship, although despite the warning, the solitary nature of the captain kept wandering its way across his mind. He'd approach the man yet before he would disembark. The second thing to catch his eye (the first being Jaroth's frothy face) was the half-elf named Elya Moonrise, and he found himself smiling at her without thinking. When he again approached the first mate, he inquired as to anything he could do, besides staying out of the way (as he'd already been told by everyone to do).

After several attempts to speak with Captain Spitsteel are met with utter failure, Sharma finds himself at sea.

In time he found himself quietly alone on the bow of the ship, looking out into the night and empty sea.

"Elya is easy on the eyes, is she not?" Imro asks, watching Sharma watching the half-elf maiden do her chores on deck. "Be careful not to stare too long," the first mate cautions. "Elya has a habit of cutting things off of those who are too... prying."

"As to what you can do aboard ship," Imro continues, "Stay out of our way. That would be well appreciated. No offense, but we run the ship just fine with the crew we've got. Although... if you have any carpentry skills, those might come in handy. We had to let our last carpenter go after he... well, he was apt to stare as well..."

Jaroth came to join Sharma on deck after Imro had left Sharma to berate a cabin boy. "Sharma, how d'ya like the life of the sea so far?" the dwarven merchant asks. "I bet this crew could do with some cheering up, my friend. Captain Spitsteel isn't too keen about liquor on board his ship. I am an exception, of course, but the crew... well, let's just say we're lucky this is a short trip. Still, I'm sure if you were to regale them with one of your stories around dinnertime... wouldn't hurt your chances of making some friends."

 

[Insight]

Clare

Clare Karaby | Darisant, Lurien

Clare waits a few moments more, clearing and steadying her mind before going to find Father Laertes. She waits outside his chamber until he emerges, all her wordly belongings at her feet, her holy book clutched to her chest, the coin in her left hand.

"Father Laertes," she says when he comes out. "Our Lady spoke to me. She said I should leave, and that she would guide me to the Chapel of Unity. I am to seek the Old Man at the Great Bridge. Father... which direction do I go?" she asks, her voice small and uncertain.

"Spoke to you, did She?" Father Laertes remarks. "Well, that's a sure sign that you are destined for something great. I would be honored if I were you."

The priest takes to the window overlooking the valley. It was foggy, though the vineyards were still barely visible in the haze.

"The Great Bridge, you say?" Laertes asks. "Well, of course, there are several large bridges along the Calucanear River that flows east from the Viltoe Mountains. The roads between Veltune and Ghelisant and of course, Slusong, they all have bridges across the Calucanear. Not sure if any of them are called the Great Bridge, though. The largest and oldest of these bridges would almost have to be the one crossing near the mountains, between Veltune and Ghelisant."

"Although..." he says, continuing. "It may not be a bridge that crosses a river. I believe there is a bridge spanning a great chasm just outside Veltune, in the mountains. Perhaps that is where you are meant to go."

 

[Insight]

Misha

Misha Koldun | In the Viltoe Mountains Outside Veltune, Lurien

Damn time to have a storm, Misha thinks, putting his hand to his brow. With a resigned sigh he dismounts and leads his steed to suitable place to camp.

"Now you stay here and graze, I am going to setup the camp," Misha quips before setting to the task of setting camp for the night to weather the storm, first and foremost making shelter, then preparing a fire.

It is a blustery night in the mountains. After searching for what seems an eternity, Misha finds a spot that seems suitable to build some form of shelter against the snow storm. before two hours have passed, Misha and his mount are in the shelter and warming themselves briskly before the doughty fire set before them.

During the night, which is fairly restless, Misha hears movement outside his camp. This happens several times. By the time he gathers himself to have a look, there is nothing but steady snowfall outside the shelter.

Morning comes not a moment too soon. It is still cold, and there is a good two feet of snow on the flat space where Misha made his camp. Daylight brings Misha to the realization that he is quite high in the mountains. He has reached an almost dizzying height, and he can see all of the crooked valleys far, far below.

A lone bird, an eagle, brays in the sky above, reminding Misha that he is far away from home.