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

[Insight]

Sharma

Sharma | In the Refeli Sea, Aboard the Just Looking

Sharma smiles, "I won't stare, just occasionally admire." He pats Imro on the back, "I've never been a carpenter, but I can try my hand at it, although I promise nothing.

"Good," Imro says, "If you want to be useful, check in with our dwarven friend, Dexter. He has some tools."

Nodding to his inebriated friend, "I'm sure there are quite the few exceptions when you're on board," he says with a sly grin. "Now, as to a story, that I am always willing to take up, I'll try to remember a good sea tale."

OOC: Would Sharma know of any good sea tale which tells of a fetching half-elf maiden, spirited and witty. If he doesn't he'll try to spin something up in his head before he performs. Bardic Knowledge +3, Knowledge (nobility) +6

OOC: I'm going to assume that's part of your Perform skill. You'd just make a check and see how it goes.

The crew (other than those otherwise engaged) gathers in the galley. They have cleared a space for Sharma, who somewhat hesitantly takes his place.

Imro is there, smiling. "I'd heard you were quite the storyteller," he says. "How about regaling us with a tale of the sea? Or perhaps a sea shanty?"

 

[Ambrus]

The bear sits down. "Got anything to eat? I'm starvin'."

Well, that answers at least one of my questions; there IS something about Bahamut and his servants that keep them from answering questions or speaking plainly. Certainly an odd group for a dragon god. Jacoby dismounts to stand in front of the hill of fur in front of him. Being a hin whacker with delusions of knighthood I reckon I'll fit right in. I, uh, had some venison I had been smoking but it got eaten by something when when I, uh, lost a night in a chapel talking to a... shadow. I got a little something left we could share though I don't think it'll be enough for a, uh, bear of your size, uh, sir. Jacoby begins pulling out some bread, nuts and a sliver of cheese from Amber's saddlebag. So you're a magic bear huh?

Jacoby will make camp and try to engage the bear in conversation while sharing some of his rations. Jacoby would also like to spend some time training Amber for combat before nightfall if possible. He'll even ask Raster if he'd care to help, explaining to him that "Amber has to get used to facing off against bigger creatures."

 

[James Heard]

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

Shuelsai smiles and thanks the barmaid for the drink, sipping it delicately while listening to the old man's proclamations until his face breaks out into an enormous grin at his conclusion.

"Ah, Trade is a marvelously delicious language! See, you just said that time grows, but that it grows short, when everyone knows that as anything grows it grows longer! If time were actually becoming shorter though, would we even know it as such? Being as how we're so firmly placed in step with it? Or perhaps you meant, stranger, that our time left or remaining is becoming shorter? Southerner talk is wonderfully imprecise, isn't it?"

The entire time he speaks, the little brown sailor maintains an air of almost ridiculous excitement, until the joy of his conversation finally spills out of the corners of his mouth into loud, raucous laughter.

"Speak away, friend. I shall listen intently and seek the Truth."

 

[Steve Gorak]

Ralan | With the House Myrrkal Caravan, Abils Fields, Lurien
OOC: Just so you know, bluffing to feint only works in melee combat.

Ralan gets one chance to toss, and misses.

The riders, ignoring Ralan's attack, continue on into the forest. Ralan calls after Avrick, who has completely vanished into the forest.

Ralan is now alone. Following the riders somewhat, he can see where they have gone, through the forest to the other side, and up a grassy hillock, where they completely disappear from Ralan's view.

Ralan will try to locate and pick up the Javelins that he has thrown. He'll then go to the hill where he lost sight of the riders.

If he sees nothing, he will return to the caravan to fight or help survivors.

 

[Evil Ujio]

Misha Koldun | In the Viltoe Mountains Outside Veltune, Lurien



The cloaked figures do not reply, and attack!

OOC: Misha wins initiative.

Misha charges Figure One, and strikes for 7 points of damage. It is not immediately clear, but Misha can tell from body language that Figure One is wounded.

Figures One and Two are to Misha's front, and Figure Three is behind Misha. The other two close to melee combat and, drawing chaos maces, attack. They attack in numeric order but only Figure Three hits, inflicting 4 points of damage.

Misha, drawing his sword, Honor, gnashes teeth and assaults the first cloaked figure, drawing first blood. The others converge, drawing wicked maces as they do, but only one of the figures is able to penetrate Misha's defenses.

Misha laughs through the pain, "Nice try, but now you just pissed me off!"

+3 attack with Honor, Using Power Attack +2/-1 so damage is 2d6+5 on the same one he hit last round, since it isn't down I am assuming...

 

[Ferrix]

Sharma | In the Refeli Sea, Aboard the Just Looking

"Good," Imro says, "If you want to be useful, check in with our dwarven friend, Dexter. He has some tools."

OOC: I'm going to assume that's part of your Perform skill. You'd just make a check and see how it goes.

The crew (other than those otherwise engaged) gathers in the galley. They have cleared a space for Sharma, who somewhat hesitantly takes his place.

Imro is there, smiling. "I'd heard you were quite the storyteller," he says. "How about regaling us with a tale of the sea? Or perhaps a sea shanty?"

"I am more a teller of tales than a singer of songs, so I shall commence..." Sharma begins slowly, hoping to get a feel for his audience, he weaves together a tale of a half-elf sailor lass who won her own ship from a tireless crew and traveled the seas for the pleasure of the waves and the sun on her brow far more than any trinket placed before her. Standing tall against pirates and ruffians, she earned the respect of the powers of the sea who granted her a small part of divinity and forever now she travels the winds and breathes speed to ships in need.

OOC: Perform (oratory) +7

 

[Insight]

Clare

Clare Karaby | Veltune, Lurien

"Then I thank Daelis for his kindness, and you for your compassion, Baben. I would welcome help against the dangers of the road, for I must reach the bridge at Veltune. I have business there, a holy quest. Please, if anyone if your group is in need of healing or aid, I would help them," Clare says with a smile, as she approaches the wagon to climb aboard (or walk beside, whichever is appropriate).

The driver moves aside to acomodate Clare Karaby. "Good day, fair lady," he says. "I could barely think what would happen to you should you walk this road alone and unattended."

The caravan moves west along the merchants' road. Over the next few days, which are uneventful, Clare learns more about her merchant companions. Baben was once a lieutenant in the Luri military, serving in the cavalry. Clare can easily tell that Baben is a skilled horseman, and has a clear command of the rest of the caravan guards.

Daelis speaks of his homeland, a verdant valley in eastern Lurien known as Talane. He was a blacksmith there, and as was customary in Talane, took up the faith of Pistis Sophia. Clare and Daelis have much to discuss on the journey, and for the most part, Daelis appears in awe of Clare's devotion to Sophia.

The caravan arrives in Ventune. Daelis offers to escort Clare either to the Temple of the Good Lady (Pistis Sophia) or to the Great Bridge.

 

[Insight]

Jacoby

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

Well, that answers at least one of my questions; there IS something about Bahamut and his servants that keep them from answering questions or speaking plainly. Certainly an odd group for a dragon god. Jacoby dismounts to stand in front of the hill of fur in front of him. Being a hin whacker with delusions of knighthood I reckon I'll fit right in. I, uh, had some venison I had been smoking but it got eaten by something when when I, uh, lost a night in a chapel talking to a... shadow. I got a little something left we could share though I don't think it'll be enough for a, uh, bear of your size, uh, sir. Jacoby begins pulling out some bread, nuts and a sliver of cheese from Amber's saddlebag. So you're a magic bear huh?

Raster eats and chats with Jacoby. He is an easygoing bear, as bears go anyway, and doesn't seem anywhere near as caustic as the faerie dragon who had made already made his exit from Jacoby's quest.

"Dunno if I'm magic or no," Raster replies. "Don't know much about magic. I try to keep to myself, except for when the Great Dragon calls."

Jacoby will make camp and try to engage the bear in conversation while sharing some of his rations. Jacoby would also like to spend some time training Amber for combat before nightfall if possible. He'll even ask Raster if he'd care to help, explaining to him that "Amber has to get used to facing off against bigger creatures."

"Sure," Raster replies. "I'd be glad to help ya. Don't wanna hurt Amber. I'll try to be careful."

Together, Jacoby and Raster work with Amber to train her in the ways of combat.

The next morning, Raster is up early and rouses his hin companion. "We'd best be going. The others will be along soon. Don't wanna keep them waitin'."

 

[Insight]

Shuelsai

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

Shuelsai smiles and thanks the barmaid for the drink, sipping it delicately while listening to the old man's proclamations until his face breaks out into an enormous grin at his conclusion.

"Ah, Trade is a marvelously delicious language! See, you just said that time grows, but that it grows short, when everyone knows that as anything grows it grows longer! If time were actually becoming shorter though, would we even know it as such? Being as how we're so firmly placed in step with it? Or perhaps you meant, stranger, that our time left or remaining is becoming shorter? Southerner talk is wonderfully imprecise, isn't it?"

The entire time he speaks, the little brown sailor maintains an air of almost ridiculous excitement, until the joy of his conversation finally spills out of the corners of his mouth into loud, raucous laughter.

"Speak away, friend. I shall listen intently and seek the Truth."

"Were I a younger man," the Hermit says, "I would be glad to debate the nature of time and space with you, stranger. Time indeed grows short for me, and perhaps for all of us who love the Light. There is a great Evil coming. It has been seen in prophecy."

The old man finishes his drink. "I would share this much with you. This prophecy foretells of the coming of an Evil power unlike any seen before in this world. The Gates of Hell themselves may be opened, and a demonic host pore forth and overcome the meager forces of Good that can be found as this world's guardians."

"I am told that you may be one of the few to stand against this. I would hope that this is so. Pray to whatever Gods you follow, stranger, and you will see that this is precisely why you have been brought to Marvoe, and to my table. I have seen things. The Great Mother Bharrai tells me so. She has told you as well, hasn't she?"

The barmaid brings another drink. "Thank you, my dear," he says, accepting her delivery. He studies it for a moment. "And now, stranger, what will it be? Will you hear more, and accept your fate, or shrink back into insignificance and ignore that which must be?"

 

[Insight]

Ralan

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

Ralan will try to locate and pick up the Javelins that he has thrown. He'll then go to the hill where he lost sight of the riders.

If he sees nothing, he will return to the caravan to fight or help survivors.

After gathering his javelins, Ralan spends a good ten minutes carefully sneaking up the hill to where he saw the riders take Talia. It is a short, shallow hill overlooking the Abils Fields, and appears to be the place from which the bandits staged their attack. Ralan sees everywhere standards and pennants bearing the strange symbol he first saw not too long ago on the first batch of attackers. Avrick seemed to recognize this symbol, but did not indicate what it was.

Ralan finds three tents, each large enough to house 12 men, or perhaps equipment. There are many barrels filled with javelins, arrows, or other weapons. With some more investigation, Ralan sees the horses he chased up here, tied to a nearby tree. Talia is nowhere to be found, however, without entering the camp proper.