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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 39453" data-attributes="member: 143">Broccli_Head,I haven't picked up LoD yet, but I did just get Magic of Faerun.  Cool content, horrible artwork.  Some of the spells are a little cheesy IMHO, but at least one of the prestige classes will be making an appearance in the story soon.  I've used two of the adversaries at the back of the FRCS now... perhaps I should have the companions encounter a group of murderous killer-rothe, to fill out the set?Horacio, great idea!  I do have some pretty dramatic ideas bouncing around for the end of the story, but that's a while off yet... Lok will delve back into the mysteries of his past, and as for the others...Well, wait and see!* * * * * Book II, Part 2The city of Baldur’s Gate was widely renown as one of the great metropolises of the northwestern coast of Faerun, its significance rivaled only by the City of Splendors, magical Waterdeep itself.  Baldur’s Gate was a nexus of trade, connecting the wild North, the rich Heartlands, and the Sword Coast, all bound together by the trackless avenues of the ocean, the many rivers that ran through the region, and the various trade roads.  For all that it was now a bustling city of tens of thousands, nearly twice the size of Elturel, Baldur’s Gate still bore the mark of the impermanent frontier, a place of exotic treasures, mysterious dangers, and unique characters.  The three companions paid little heed to the wonders of the city, however, focused as they were upon their vital errand.  Their encounter with the gargoyles and the sudden appearance of a brief storm that had blown down from the north had slowed their travel down the river, but despite those obstacles only five days had passed since they had left Elturel.  They disembarked from the keelboat at the city docks, paid the nominal entry tax for admission into the city, and made their way into the crowded streets.  They decided not to wait, and after getting directions from a passing merchant, made their way to the temple district.  They got a lot of curious looks, both at Lok’s unusual appearance and at the small coffin they were carrying, but no one who got a look at the determination in their eyes tried to interfere with them.  The Lady’s Hall, the temple of the goddess Tymora, was a remarkable edifice, its thick columns and elaborate carvings tribute to the regard with which the Lady Who Smiles was held in the city.  There was a steady stream of petitioners entering the temple through the massive double doors in the front of the structure, so the three companions joined the queue and passed through into the temple portico.  Perhaps it was their unusual appearance, or the obvious quality of their equipment, but it only a few minutes before an acolyte approached them in greeting.  The young woman was a little taken aback when they asked for an audience with the High Priestess, and tried at first to deflect them, but Delem’s impassioned plea finally had her scurrying into the private chambers in the rear of the place.“Way to go with that charm spell,” Benzan said. “I didn’t use it,” the sorcerer insisted.  They did not have long to wait, and soon the acolyte returned and escorted them into a small but elaborately adorned chapel that adjoined the main temple.  There, they met Ilyessa Beldarin, High Priestess of Tymora and one of the most powerful clerics of the Sword Coast.  A fairly new resident of the city, Ilyessa was around forty, still youthful despite the traces of gray in her hair, and still possessed of a potent personality that each of the companions felt as she turned her steel-gray eyes upon each of them in turn.  “Thank you, child,” she said, dismissing the acolyte.  If she felt any fear at being left alone with three armed strangers, she did not show it.  Her gaze returned to Benzan, and she stared intently at him for a long moment.  “What purpose do you have here, tiefling?” she said, her lips tightening slightly in an obvious gesture of disgust.  Delem opened his mouth to say something, but Benzan cut him off with a gesture.  He stepped forward boldly, and stood before the regal woman.  “I am here because my friend sacrificed his life to defeat a great evil, the kind that your gods of good are supposedly dedicated to fighting.  We have letters from Lady Cleric Palintz and Secretary Padronus of Elturel, detailing our deeds, but if you are going to stand there and judge me, without even knowing me or my friends, on the basis of a heritage I had no choice in selecting, then perhaps we came to the wrong place for aid.”The priestess’s eyes narrowed as she regarded him, but Benzan stood his ground, meeting her gaze squarely.  Finally, her frown cracked, and the hint of a smile appeared on her face. “It has been a long while since anyone has put me in my place,” she said, “and a fair time since I have deserved it so rightly.  Very well then, strangers, I will read your letters, and hear your tale.  But first tell me your names, so that I might know who it is who rebukes me so.”They introduced themselves, handed over the sealed letters, and began relating what had happened to them.  Cal had been the natural storyteller among them, but together, with even Lok contributing bits and details, they related their story to the priestess.  At her gesture they removed the top of the box, revealing Cal’s motionless form, his features preserved exactly as they had been by the power of Palintz’s spell.  The priestess looked down at him for a moment, then she muttered a brief incantation over him, her hand moving in a small circle above his head.  “There is a lingering goodness about this one, that I can still feel,” she said.  “So you will help us?” Lok asked.The priestess turned and walked back to the far wall of the shrine, where rays of light slanted down through windows of stained glass fashioned into a variety of colorful designs.  “It is a great boon you seek,” she told them.  “Bringing a soul back across the veil is not something that is done lightly, for all that so many in these times seem to wield such great power recklessly.”  Her tone suggested that she knew personally of such cases.  “We have wealth,” Benzan said, and he opened the small box he carried to let the light play on the surface of their gemstones.“It seems that the reputation of Tymora’s church is well-established,” Ilyessa said dryly.  “While it is true that Our Smiling Lady’s church is known for selling healing spells and enchanted items for profit, I feel that what you are asking for goes beyond a simple mercantile transaction.”“What do you mean?” Benzan asked, his tone admitting more than a little suspicion at her words.  “I will be happy to provide you with assistance—divine scrolls, potions, or other items of minor magic that we can provide.  But for this boon you seek, I will require a service.”“If you can help Cal, we will we do whatever you ask, be it within our power,” Lok said.  “Wait a moment,” Benzan added, before the priestess could respond.  “I would like to find out what sort of chore you have in mind, first, if you don’t object.”“Of course,” the priestess said, that enigmatic hint of a smile briefly returning for a moment.  For some reason, Benzan found that that little smile worried him.  “I promise that the aid I seek is in the cause of good, a cause that your friend here sacrificed so nobly to advance.  It involves risk, but very existence here in the ‘wild west’ involves that, and I can see from your story thus far that you are no strangers to that challenge.”“Ah, my good Benzan, I can see that your patience is wearing thin at my riddles.  Very well, then, the favor I request is this: I require your help escorting a member of my order on a long journey, an important voyage to the farthest reaches of our continent of Faerun.  Her destination, the place she requires safe escort to, is Port Nyanzaru, in the land of Chult.”Delem and Lok exchanged a blank look, but Benzan, who was more widely traveled, and who had heard more stories from travelers, exclaimed, “Chult!  The ‘farthest reaches,’ indeed!  What business could you possibly have in that gods-forsaken land?”“My own business,” the priestess replied, not giving the tiefling an inch.  “All I ask of you is that you see my emissary to her destination safely, and see that she safely return.  It should not take more than a few months of your time in total—a small price, I would think, for the life of your friend.  And I promise you that your help will be aiding the cause of good, although I can say no more at this time about the nature of her errand, nor will she.”“Where is this place?” Delem asked.  “Chult is a harsh land, a deep jungle, at the tip of a long peninsula that juts out into the Trackless Sea,” Benzan answered.  “Cal would be able to tell you more, no doubt, were he able…” the tiefling broke off, uncomfortable at his own reminder of why they were here.  He met the eyes of each of his companions, saw reflected there the feeling in his own heart, and then turned back to the priestess.  “If it will bring Cal back…” he began, but then something occurred to him, and he added, “But I cannot speak for Cal on this.  If we agree, it is the three of us, unless he agrees willingly to go.”“Had you not noted that, I would have suggested the same,” Ilyessa said.  “I will not accept a service that is not freely granted—such a thing goes against the core tenets of the Lady’s creed.”“How will you know if we honor our part of the bargain?  I mean, what if you restore Cal, and we just leave?” Delem asked.  By the look that Benzan shot the sorcerer, it was clear he’d been thinking the same thing, and regretted having it asked.  But the priestess had a ready answer for that question as well.  “If you do accept this charge, I will administer a spell of questing, what wizards call a geas, upon each of you.  If you honor your commitment, it will not hinder you in any way, but if you violate the bargain intentionally… well, you will not find the effects pleasant.”Benzan looked like he wanted to say something more, but he felt Lok’s heavy hand on his shoulder, and held his tongue.  He looked back at Delem, but the sorcerer, too, nodded his assent.  “Very well,” he said.  “We accept.  But if possible, can we have some time here before we leave on this ‘quest’?  We need to reequip ourselves, and I think Cal might want some time to get used to being alive again.”“Of course,” the priestess said.  “A ship, the Raindancer out of Waterdeep, will dock here in a few days, and will depart a tenday’s hence.  Do you have lodging here in the town?”“We came straight here from the docks,” Delem said.  “Speak to the acolyte on the way out, and she can recommend a few comfortable places nearby, where you can take you rest.  Return tomorrow morning, and I will cast the spells then.  You may leave your friend in our care until then, and goddess-willing, tomorrow he will be restored to you.”The three bowed—Benzan a little reluctantly—and took their leave, each bidding their friend a quiet farewell as they went.</blockquote>

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