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

[Insight]

Clare

Clare Karaby | Darisant, Lurien

Clare rose from her devotions, troubled but filled with purpose. She drank water from the jar in her room, and stopped by the small kitchen to break her fast. The Father always spent a very long time in devotions, and it would be a while before she could see him. She finished her bread quickly and went to feed the chickens and do a bit of weeding before he was done. Finally she saw him emerge from the temple, and went to see him.*

"Father, I need to speak with you. I had a dream last night, I believe it is one of great significance," she says softly. The Father took her to a quiet corner of the garden, and Clare carefully explained her vision, and what she thought it meant. "I need to know if such a place exists. Because if it does, I believe I am being called to it to prevent a terrible evil from corrupting the place."

Father Laertes smiled, wrinkles crackling across his time-worn face. It was odd that, while his face was so serene with no expression upon it, as soon as he started to smile, or frown (which was not often), or even speak, a pattern of cracks would appear, completely changing the landscape of his countenance.

"Clare," he began, "There is no doubt in my mind that this dream indeed holds some significance for you, perhaps for all of us. I have rarely in my days seen such a dream with clues and portents stashed within. Yes, it could very well be just a dream, but I happen to believe that you, Clare, have always been meant for something more than caretaker to this place."

He turned and walked to a balcony overlooking the now barren vineyards in the valley below. They would grow again, as they always had, without any need for tending. Such was the way of this secret valley. As long as no one interfered, and would harvest only so much of the grapes they would yield in the fall, the vines continued to produce without so much as watering.

"We must both think on this, your dream," Father Laertes continued. "I feel that there is somewhere you must go, but finding it may very well be part of your... test." He turned back to face Clare again. "You see, we are all tested at some time in our spiritual lives. Some pass this test, and go on to do great things... others, do not, and live out their lives in a remote monastery somewhere..."

"But fear not, Clare," he continued. "Pray on this, and go over the clues in your mind, and I will do the same. There is indeed a path for you in this; it's up to us to determine what that path might be."

Father Laertes disappeared again, leaving Clare alone in the rose garden. He would cloister himself in a small divination shrine for many hours, thinking on the portentious dream Clare had described to him.

 

[Insight]

Shuelsai

Shielsai Dang | South of Chunabo, Kurst, In the Trackless Sea

The rest of the day was spent in specifics, and much crying from the youngest children and his daughters. Despite his own doubts and fears, Shuelsai smiled at each soothingly and ruffled their napes playfully in turn. As promised he turned his small craft up the river as he set sail and spoke with his cousin Essai before he left. Essai was less enthusiastic about repaying his debts than Shuelsai implied to his children. A quiet word to one of his pretty young wives settled things. The youngest sister of Shuelsai's second wife, he reminded her that his family and her own were joined like dobbers and sandfleas, and pinched her cheeks and tickled her like he did when she was a child with a wink. A man, even an important man like Essai, couldn't allow discontent to grow inside his own home. Reluctantly, and then graciously, Essai eventually even began to realize the potential benefits of having young boys around to aid him in his labors before his own sons were old enough.

It was late at night when Shuelsai stumbled out of the hut and waved drunkenly behind him to his hosts and the life he lived before. Stupid gods, no sense at all, calling an old man out of his sleep and telling him to leave his family. He heaved the lines to cast off.

"I don't even know where I'm going!" he said aloud to the sea, as he raised the sail. Then he grinned, his gap-toothed smile radiating amusement. "I'm as crazy as they are, then." He laughed until a wheezing cough broke his revelry.

Ah well, he thought. Who am I to question the gods? A new dawn was just breaking the horizon as he lazily pulled a rag over his eyes to close his eyes some and let the tides take him where they will.

Shuelsai was asleep for a long time. He knew that eventually, his tiny vessel would catch one of the south-blowing tradewinds that had made Shiven such a valuable location for seaborne trade. He also knew that, were he to make landfall, it was very likely to be in Shiven or one of the nearby islands. Of course, such a journey, depending on the boon of the wind, might take a week in his tiny fishing boat, and if he did not make landfall in Shiven, it might be another few weeks before he would land somewhere else.

But what awoke Shuelsai was a cacophony of calls, humanoid calls, coming from somewhere close. He opened his eyes to see a larger vessel, a merchant trader most likely, flying a flag with the symbol of the Verarken Trading Company. Shuelsai knew the Verarkens to be based in Shiven, as were most of these new seafaring trading guilds.

Apparently, Shuelsai's fishing boat was on a dangerous tack right towards this merchant ship, and the crew of the trader were calling "Ahoy!" to Shuelsai to warn him of an imminent collision. Shuelsai sprang to his feet and corrected course.

As he was now alongside the merchantman, which was called The Verarken Star, the crew wished to speak with the captain of this Kurstic fishing vessel so far outside of its normal fishing waters.

The boatswain, Errold, was the first to entreat Shuelsai in conversation. He spoke in the Trade Language, unsure of what tongues the Kurstic captain might speak. "You there," he began. "Quite a bit off course, aren't you? Must be a good two or three days from Kurst."

 

[James Heard]

Shuelsai Deng | South of Chunabo, Kurst, In the Trackless Sea

"I'm not going to Kurst though," Shuelsai said with a wink. "My most sincere apologies, the water is wide and I thought it appropriate to catch up on the sleep I missed drinking last night. I did not see her, though she is very fine indeed," Shuelsai said, nodding at the other craft.

"My nets are still dry today. I thought perhaps to go a bit further and let them out when the sun was lower and my head was throbbing less."

"How much farther till I reach the island of Mitea? I need to go see what the gods want with me," he said earnestly.

 

[Steve Gorak]

Ralan

Ralan woke up suddenly, knowing this was not an ordinary dream. “I must find this chapel...maybe the head priest can help me” he muttered to himself.

He had been staying at a small temple about 3 days away from Darisant, his former home. This temple has been his home for the last few years Ralan had almost loost track the years, learning about Ayala and helping the elderly priests with their daily activities. His mentor, the priest who saved him, had left the temple about a year ago to spread Ayala’s protection.

Ralan will be very specific with his questions. He will inquire about the location (mountain and forest) the meaning of Inspiration, if the chapel he saw was one dedicated to Ayala and finally, what was the type of creature he saw.

 

[Insight]

Ralan

Ralan | Karun Temple, Near Darisant, Lurien

Ralan woke up suddenly, knowing this was not an ordinary dream. “I must find this chapel...maybe the head priest can help me” he muttered to himself.

He had been staying at a small temple about 3 days away from Darisant, his former home. This temple has been his home for the last few years Ralan had almost loost track the years, learning about Ayala and helping the elderly priests with their daily activities. His mentor, the priest who saved him, had left the temple about a year ago to spread Ayala’s protection.

Ralan will be very specific with his questions. He will inquire about the location (mountain and forest) the meaning of Inspiration, if the chapel he saw was one dedicated to Ayala and finally, what was the type of creature he saw.

Ralan found Elder Brother Tarud on a balcony facing the sea. It was quite the picturesque, windswept scene of blue-green waves crashing softly against the broken brown rocks of the cliffs below. The old priest watched the merchant ships go by, and wondered what it would be like to sail on one of those ships some day. Sensing Ralan's approach, the Elder Brother turned to face the youth.

"Ah, Ralan," Tarud said without provocation. "I see that you're up early as usual." Tarud frowned a bit. "You seem troubled. Tell me what's bothing you."

After listening to Ralan retell the description of the vision, the Elder Brother smiled, even chuckled a bit, and turned back toward the sea, bracing himself against the rail. Ralan joined him there.

"My Son," Tarud began. "There are a great many things for you to see and experience in this world... and perhaps even beyond. As to your vision, I suspect that much of that is some sort of symbolism. Perhaps a threat to come... or something you have overlooked. Much of it seemed to focus on that chapel in the mountains. I would not know if that chapel is a real chapel or again, some sort of symbol."

"Perhaps a look at the map is in order," Tarud suggested. "Do you know any other details that might help us to determine its location? My suspicion is that, if this is a real place, we should figure out how to get you there."

 

[Steve Gorak]

Ralan | Karun Temple, Near Darisant, Lurien



Ralan found Elder Brother Tarud on a balcony facing the sea. It was quite the picturesque, windswept scene of blue-green waves crashing softly against the broken brown rocks of the cliffs below. The old priest watched the merchant ships go by, and wondered what it would be like to sail on one of those ships some day. Sensing Ralan's approach, the Elder Brother turned to face the youth.

"Ah, Ralan," Tarud said without provocation. "I see that you're up early as usual." Tarud frowned a bit. "You seem troubled. Tell me what's bothing you."

After listening to Ralan retell the description of the vision, the Elder Brother smiled, even chuckled a bit, and turned back toward the sea, bracing himself against the rail. Ralan joined him there.

"My Son," Tarud began. "There are a great many things for you to see and experience in this world... and perhaps even beyond. As to your vision, I suspect that much of that is some sort of symbolism. Perhaps a threat to come... or something you have overlooked. Much of it seemed to focus on that chapel in the mountains. I would not know if that chapel is a real chapel or again, some sort of symbol."

"Perhaps a look at the map is in order," Tarud suggested. "Do you know any other details that might help us to determine its location? My suspicion is that, if this is a real place, we should figure out how to get you there."

Bowing his head in reverence, Ralan thanked Brother Tarud for his help. After going through the temple's library, he spoke to himself "A place where the inhabitants don't speak Lur, a forest and a mountain...the border town of Ghelisant seems like a good place to start."

Ralan will try to get as much information about Ghelisant from his brothers at the temple. Once he is satisfied, he will spend the rest of the day finishing his work, he will say farewell to all the brothers and once he has rested for the night, he will leave first thing in the morning.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Clare Karaby | Darisant, Lurien
"Clare," he began, "There is no doubt in my mind that this dream indeed holds some significance for you, perhaps for all of us. I have rarely in my days seen such a dream with clues and portents stashed within. Yes, it could very well be just a dream, but I happen to believe that you, Clare, have always been meant for something more than caretaker to this place."

"We must both think on this, your dream," Father Laertes continued. "I feel that there is somewhere you must go, but finding it may very well be part of your... test." He turned back to face Clare again. "You see, we are all tested at some time in our spiritual lives. Some pass this test, and go on to do great things... others, do not, and live out their lives in a remote monastery somewhere..."

"But fear not, Clare," he continued. "Pray on this, and go over the clues in your mind, and I will do the same. There is indeed a path for you in this; it's up to us to determine what that path might be."

*Clare started a bit when Father Laertes said she was being tested, but then was still. Hadn't she felt she should be moving on, to prevent what happened to her family from happening to others? She just lacked confidence and a certainty that she should be going. But now, it seemed, she had a sign. She retreated to a quiet area of the vineyard to pray and meditate, hoping to come up with some kind of sign.*

Three rivers coming together as one, feeding a large village. Could this be not a map, but a metaphore? Three small rivers... three people? Three people coming together to help a village? Or a group of people? The chapel high on the mountain, perhaps not high up physically, but in someone's esteem? A chapel in a high position, surrounded by those that need help. But where? And who are these other people, if it truly means thus?

 

[Ferrix]

Sharma rose slowly from his small bed, normally his dreams left a much more pleasing sensation than the unnerving nothingness which enveloped him. Such darkness... what could that thing possibly have been? The question lingers a moment in his mind, as he sloughs off the thin blanket and nearly slips off of his childhood bed, but really, two feet isn't very high for a sixteen year old.

Slipping his feet into his pair of leather sandals, worn and stained with the oils from his skin, he casts about for a moment before locating a pair of clean pants which billow out loosely. Tugging them on, he secures them at his waist with a magenta sash and pulls on a sleeveless turquoise vest. Padding his way out from his small bedroom, he ducks through the curtain which separates it from the main living space of their meager home. The area is taken up mostly by pillows, although a short square table occupies the center of the room. Laid out upon the table is a loaf of bread, a good half of it missing, a few pieces of local fruit, and a porcelain mug. Such a wonderful mother she is, he thinks to himself, as he picks up one of the fruit and bites into it, the sweet juices trickling down his throat. Walking over to the corner of the room, he stokes the small fire in the oven and places a kettle of water over it.

Returning to a pillow, he plops down, munching on his fruit, he picks up the serrated knife off of the table and cuts himself a piece of bread. Within a few minutes and a few pieces of fruit and bread later, the shrill whistle of the kettle boiling disturbs his breakfast. Removing the kettle from the stove with a thick cloth, he opens a small cupboard and removes a package of loose tea. Dropping some into his mug, he pours the hot water over it and lets it steep, giving himself some time to think. Such an intriguing dream, although I didn't recognize any of the places. Perhaps I should go ask Jaroth, he's been everywhere, he says thinking of the dwarven spice merchant and self-proclaimed retired adventurer. The scent of the jasmine tea draws him out of his thoughts and into his memories. Naomi would crush the small flowers, rubbing the soft powder against her dark skin, the smell, oh what a smell, then other thoughts, languid, sensuous.

"Sharma, you're finally awake. Ready to help your mother sell some baskets?"

He nearly spilled the hot liquid on himself as he was jolted out of his memories. Looking towards the voice, his mother stood there, holding a half-weaved basket in one hand, the other resting upon her hip in a motherly way.

"Why of course!" he said with a touch of benign sarcasm, although really, he never could pull it off with her, "although..."

"What is it now? Off to the cliffs to see the birds wheeling in the sky? Or, the gardens?" His mother replied, knowing full well that, "although...", meant he had other plans from the get-go.

"I was going to go see Jaroth, get some jasmine tea, we're almost out," he said, hoping to conceal his real intent.

"Alright then, don't be too long though, the customers always enjoy your tales," she said, knowing full well that he knew she had bought some jasmine tea only the other day from Jaroth. She let him have his fun and his time, he was a good young boy, young man, she corrected herself, and that was the best time to be a free-spirit.

"Thanks," Sharma said, setting his empty mug down on the table and reaching through the curtain to his room and snagging the small pouch which he carried a few coins in. Tossing it up and down in his left hand, each time with a clink, he reached forward and hugged his mother, who was still taller than him by four inches. "I'll be back soon," with that he padded out the door and made his way down towards the markets.

The markets bustled with activity, all day, every day. Despite the thronging crowd, he deftly made his way through, knowing where Jaroth's booth was by the dwarfs roughened voice calling out his wares alone. Popping out from the crowd, Jaroth stood, swarthy and barrel-chested, a pipe with some of the best tobacco (or so he claimed) from the islands tucked into a corner of his mouth, hailing down customers (anyone who passed in front of him was a customer, or so he acted) to take a look at the exotic spices and other odd items he would acquire on his travels.

"Jasmine tea, half a pound," he whispered into the dwarf's ear when his back was turned, causing the dwarf to tumble forward as he tried to spin about.

"Ah! Sharma my boy!" he exclaimed. "Don't be doing that, you'll make me scare the customers away," he muttered into Sharma's ear, as he drew him in for a clap on the back. "Now, wait a minute... your mother didn't send you did she?" He eyed Sharma suspiciously, "because she came by here only the other day for some jasmine tea. It isn't jasmine tea you're really looking for, is it now lad?"

"Actually, the tea it is, but I'm wondering... what large mountain chains are there that have snow?" Sharma asked, nonchalantly.

"Now, why you be wondering that my boy? Don't be planning on heading off for these mountains now do you?" The dwarf grinned, showing a number of gold capped teeth.

"Well..." he leads the dwarf into the booth, telling him of the vision he had and hoping for some ideas on the mountains, the architecture, the chapel, the mistletoe. "I feel something is calling me," he says finishing.

OOC: Hoping you can pick up with Jaroth and help me out a bit. Also, in Refel do they normally use mistletoe, or is that a foreign custom?

 

[Insight]

Sharma

Sharma | Refelis, Refel

"Jasmine tea, half a pound," he whispered into the dwarf's ear when his back was turned, causing the dwarf to tumble forward as he tried to spin about.

"Ah! Sharma my boy!" he exclaimed. "Don't be doing that, you'll make me scare the customers away," he muttered into Sharma's ear, as he drew him in for a clap on the back. "Now, wait a minute... your mother didn't send you did she?" He eyed Sharma suspiciously, "because she came by here only the other day for some jasmine tea. It isn't jasmine tea you're really looking for, is it now lad?"

"Actually, the tea it is, but I'm wondering... what large mountain chains are there that have snow?" Sharma asked, nonchalantly.

"Now, why you be wondering that my boy? Don't be planning on heading off for these mountains now do you?" The dwarf grinned, showing a number of gold capped teeth.

"Well..." he leads the dwarf into the booth, telling him of the vision he had and hoping for some ideas on the mountains, the architecture, the chapel, the mistletoe. "I feel something is calling me," he says finishing.

OOC: Hoping you can pick up with Jaroth and help me out a bit. Also, in Refel do they normally use mistletoe, or is that a foreign custom?

Jaroth cracked a smile, showing several gold-capped teeth as he did. The spice merchant brushed dust and debris off his multi-colored vest and fluffed a couple of burlap sacks. "Fresh southern spices," the dwarf called out to no one in particular. "I've got the thyme if you've got the gold!" Jaroth winked at Sharma with that announcement. "Like that one?" he asked of the boy. "Thought of it the other day."

With no takers thus far, Jaroth came around to the other side of his cart. The dwarf was nearly as wide as he was tall, though Jaroth was by no means the most robust dwarf Sharma had ever seen.

"Mountains, huh?" Jaroth asked. "Can't say I've ever seen any snow in Refelic mountains." He kept an eye out for any stray passersby who might linger too long in front of his stall. "Doesn't get cold enough for snow here. Have you ever seen snow, my lad?"

OOC: Sharma has probably heard of mistletoe through Jaroth, but no, it is not a plant native to these parts. Mistletoe tends to grow in more southerly climates.

BTW, I switched Jaroth's dialogue to blue instead of navy, which I couldn't see against the black background.

 

[Insight]

Misha

Misha Koldun | Veltune, Lurien

Misha laughs, “I must have gotten too close because the figures turned, and this is the part that surprised me most, there faces were not skeletal… they wore my face, Father. They attacked me with their black stones, though at close range it looked more like a precious stone then a stone. I defended myself well, Father, but their numbers overwhelmed… and I fell. That is when I awoke.”

Misha focuses back on Father Joseph, “If it is a sign, then I see that I must travel to this place and see if it truly exists. If evil is mustering then it is my duty to face it, with my life if I must.”

Father Joseph turned away to consider what had been described to him. He stroked a short beard of white, grey, and black. After a lengthy moment of pondering, Father Joseph turned back to Misha. "You are certain they were crimson robes... with gold trim?" He stopped to think again. "It cannot be what I think..."

"Of course, all of what you saw in your vision... could have been merely symbols," Father Joseph said. "But a case could be made of course that this is more than a mere dream. Misha, I have always believed that you were made for something special. Perhaps this is your calling."

"Do you think that this place you described, this mysterious chapel... I wonder if it is nearby. I do not know of such a place. If you have faith, which I know you do, then Raziel himself will direct you."