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

[Ambrus]

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."

Jacoby, dumbfounded at the sight of a talking bear, tries to voice his farewell but only raises a hand to wave to Zanpher as he quickly departs, leaving Jacoby behind with all of his unanswered questions. Is there something about Bahamut and his servants that preclude them from answering questions or speaking plainly?... Jacoby turns once more to regard the injured bear who is easily four times his size. Realizing that his lance is still leveled at the bear's heart, Jacoby blushes and quickly raises it upright, shifts his grip and rests its butt on his right stirrup. First a rampaging bucktoothed wyrm, then a legless human knight, followed by an inquisitive shadow, a small over-anxious pot-bellied butterfly-winged dragon, and finally, a horse sized talking bear. It occurs to me that I may have in fact lost my mind. Amber looks back at her master for an indication of what to do next. Jacoby simply reflects her uncertainty back at her. Your guess is as good as mine lady. As if in answer, Amber simply sticks her tongue out and begins to pant happily. Finally, Jacoby spurs her gently with the heels of his boots, urging her to approach the nonthreatening hill of fur. I suppose I could ask the bear if I've lost my mind though I doubt I would find any comfort in any answer it would give me. Jacoby raises his left hand once more to greet the new arrival, and then uncertainly lowers it. Do bears even know what a wave means? Jacoby timidly clears his throat and begins: So, ah, hi! I'm Jacoby... from Amberlea. So are you, uh, another of Bahamat's guides? Um... do you want some help with those injuries?

 

[Steve Gorak]

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

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!

Ralan, signalling his companions to follow, starts running towards the forest and says: "Avrick, Talia the odds aren't good if we stay in the open. We can take care of them in the forest, where their horses won't be able to run".

In the forest, Ralan will signal his companions to spread apart to circle and flank the ennemies. He will then hide to try a sneak attack with a thrown javelin. If he needs to create a diversion to be able to hide (like throwing a rock) he will do so.

He mumble to himself: "Ayala, may you guide my hand and allow me to protect my companions"

[OCC: Javelin-thrown (+3 ranged, 1d6+2 damage, x2, 30ft), Bluff : + 6, Hide : + 3,
Move silently : + 3]

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Clare Karaby | Darisant, Lurien

"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."

Clare nods, some confidence trickling back. "I think that it where I need to go. I saw mountain in my vision... Thank you Father Laertes, I hope I will see you again," Clare says, giving him a hug. Taking up her staff and bag, she heads out on the road, traveling towards Veltune and the mountains.

 

[Evil Ujio]

Misha takes it from foot, and leads his steed up the mountain with a sigh. He chats absent mindedly to his horse, to keep himself company; sometimes arguing sometimes not just to make the time pass, keeping his cloak pulled tight around him as he makes the journey to his destiny.

 

[Insight]

Jacoby

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

Jacoby, dumbfounded at the sight of a talking bear, tries to voice his farewell but only raises a hand to wave to Zanpher as he quickly departs, leaving Jacoby behind with all of his unanswered questions. Is there something about Bahamut and his servants that preclude them from answering questions or speaking plainly?... Jacoby turns once more to regard the injured bear who is easily four times his size. Realizing that his lance is still leveled at the bear's heart, Jacoby blushes and quickly raises it upright, shifts his grip and rests its butt on his right stirrup. First a rampaging bucktoothed wyrm, then a legless human knight, followed by an inquisitive shadow, a small over-anxious pot-bellied butterfly-winged dragon, and finally, a horse sized talking bear. It occurs to me that I may have in fact lost my mind. Amber looks back at her master for an indication of what to do next. Jacoby simply reflects her uncertainty back at her. Your guess is as good as mine lady. As if in answer, Amber simply sticks her tongue out and begins to pant happily. Finally, Jacoby spurs her gently with the heels of his boots, urging her to approach the nonthreatening hill of fur. I suppose I could ask the bear if I've lost my mind though I doubt I would find any comfort in any answer it would give me. Jacoby raises his left hand once more to greet the new arrival, and then uncertainly lowers it. Do bears even know what a wave means? Jacoby timidly clears his throat and begins: So, ah, hi! I'm Jacoby... from Amberlea. So are you, uh, another of Bahamat's guides? Um... do you want some help with those injuries?

Raster the bear turns to regard Jacoby. "Hey there, little feller," he says.

Raster's injuries seem to be healing all on their own, to Jacoby's astonishment. "Oh these wounds?" he asks rhetorically. "Nothing to worry about. We have work to do." He looks down, just as the last of the wounds seal themselves. "That witch isn't going to keep me from my sworn duties, much as she might try."

Standing on his stubby, yet muscular hind legs, Raster stretches to his full nine-foot height. "Bahamut, the Great Dragon, yes," he says with confidence. "I am here to take you the rest of the way to the Chapel. Do you need to rest, or are you ready to continue? We don't have long."

 

[Insight]

Ralan

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

Ralan, signalling his companions to follow, starts running towards the forest and says: "Avrick, Talia the odds aren't good if we stay in the open. We can take care of them in the forest, where their horses won't be able to run".

In the forest, Ralan will signal his companions to spread apart to circle and flank the ennemies. He will then hide to try a sneak attack with a thrown javelin. If he needs to create a diversion to be able to hide (like throwing a rock) he will do so.

He mumble to himself: "Ayala, may you guide my hand and allow me to protect my companions"

[OCC: Javelin-thrown (+3 ranged, 1d6+2 damage, x2, 30ft), Bluff : + 6, Hide : + 3,
Move silently : + 3]

Ralan feels a sort of pressure in his mind. He's not quite sure what to make of it.

As Ralan deals with that for the moment, Avrick takes the opportunity to draw close to one of the hobgoblin riders, and stabs at the creature with his shortsword, drawing blood. The rider, in response, takes a swipe at Avrick with his flail, but Avrick dodges out of the way.

Ralan, seizing the chance to perhaps take out one of the hobgoblins, leaps at the wounded one, and strikes the rider in the kidneys, dropping the rider from his mount.

The riders regroup, forming a triangle around Talia. She stands amidst them, unsure of how to escape.

Before Ralan can act or get a good shot on one of the horsemen, the hobgoblin who seems to be the leader stops his mount and, intoning words of Evil power, halts Talia in her tracks. Avrick, unsure of how to react to this, flees into the forest.

"You can chase us, young one," the leader says cruelly, "But you cannot save your young friend here. She is OURS." Pulling Talia onto his steed, he rides into the forest, leaving a pair of horsemen, who stay back to see what Ralan might do.

 

[Insight]

Clare

Clare Karaby | On the Road to Veltune, Lurien

Clare nods, some confidence trickling back. "I think that it where I need to go. I saw mountain in my vision... Thank you Father Laertes, I hope I will see you again," Clare says, giving him a hug. Taking up her staff and bag, she heads out on the road, traveling towards Veltune and the mountains.

It is about four hours before Clare sees her first merchant caravan, the first of many she would see on this journey. It is comprised of four simple wagons, flying a stylized pennant of some kind, most likely denoting some sort of guild affiliation. Clare, not being familiar at all with the working of merchants, has no idea to which guild this caravan might belong.

The riders and drivers are all humans and half-elves, and seem friendly enough. Out of the corner of one eye, Clare thinks she spots a symbol of Pistis Sophia hanging around one of the drivers' necks, on a chain.

The caravan stops, and a man of average height and weight, with a stubbly beard and light brown hair, approaches Clare. "Young lady," he says. "You should not be traveling this road alone. There is great danger between here and Veltune, assuming that is your destination." Clare can tell by the man's bearing that he is some kind of soldier, or at least has served in the Luri military at some point. "I am Baben," he says. "Can we be of assistance to you?"

 

[Insight]

Misha

Misha Koldun | In the Viltoe Mountains Outside Veltune, Lurien

Misha takes it from foot, and leads his steed up the mountain with a sigh. He chats absent mindedly to his horse, to keep himself company; sometimes arguing sometimes not just to make the time pass, keeping his cloak pulled tight around him as he makes the journey to his destiny.

The day is long, with unstable footing in the mountains. Misha wonders how much longer his steed will be able to survive in this altitude. The snow has subsided, leaving Misha with a breathtaking view of the Viltoe Mountains and their white-capped peaks, with a smattering of the rocky valleys below. There is a river trickling through the valley, its sparkling waters just barely perceptible to Misha's eyes from this great distance.

This natural setting is unspoiled, and Misha can hardly think that anything evil] might exist up here. So peaceful, so quiet.

It is the afternoon, as far as Misha can tell, and he spots along a trail a man cloaked in black, with some sort of heavy chain around his neck, draping onto the chest. Hearing a footfall behind him, Misha turns to see two more men dressed in a similar manner take up positions.

Misha does not have much maneuvering room, and has one cloaked man before him on the narrow trail, and two behind him. Each of the cloaked men are about 45' from Misha at this point. To his right is a steep drop, and at his left is a steep but possibly scalable rise.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Clare Karaby | On the Road to Veltune, Lurien

It is about four hours before Clare sees her first merchant caravan, the first of many she would see on this journey. It is comprised of four simple wagons, flying a stylized pennant of some kind, most likely denoting some sort of guild affiliation. Clare, not being familiar at all with the working of merchants, has no idea to which guild this caravan might belong.

The riders and drivers are all humans and half-elves, and seem friendly enough. Out of the corner of one eye, Clare thinks she spots a symbol of Pistis Sophia hanging around one of the drivers' necks, on a chain.

The caravan stops, and a man of average height and weight, with a stubbly beard and light brown hair, approaches Clare. "Young lady," he says. "You should not be traveling this road alone. There is great danger between here and Veltune, assuming that is your destination." Clare can tell by the man's bearing that he is some kind of soldier, or at least has served in the Luri military at some point. "I am Baben," he says. "Can we be of assistance to you?"

"Blessings upon you. My name is Clare, and I am going to the great bridge in Veltune. What dangers do you speak of?" she asks.

 

[Ambrus]

Standing on his stubby, yet muscular hind legs, Raster stretches to his full nine-foot height. "Bahamut, the Great Dragon, yes," he says with confidence. "I am here to take you the rest of the way to the Chapel. Do you need to rest, or are you ready to continue? We don't have long."

Jacoby looks up, way up, at Raster's massive bulk. Bleary eyed, Jacoby begin hesitantly: Well, Uhm... Please Sir, what is happening? Why are we in such a hurry? Is the chapel much farther? Amber and I have been riding steadily for nearly two days with only an hour out of the saddle to eat. By Bahamut I will do my best to carry on, but I would know why... if I could, uh, sir... please.