Interlude 1

[Jeff]

The Emissary leaps down to the ground again, raises his body up higher on half-unfolded grasshopper legs, and bows dramatically. "It has been our pleasure to speak with you," he says.

The eladrin bows only slightly, sweeping his shining, pupiless eyes across Kal before turning, and disappearing, within his threshold. The green-vegetation creature behind him has already vanished.

The grig says, "I shall return soon with the name of the Nightwood's observer." With a single bound, the Emissary leaps off into the darkness of his threshold.

When you look toward Alvek and the redcaps, you see only the redcaps. Somehow the overt fey influence on this clearing has withdrawn, leaving it a curiously-shaped arrangement of trees with only a lingering vestige of the supernatural.

The centaurs await patiently, while the Wood Mistress speaks quietly with Amal. She turns to Kal after a few moments. "I, too, shall return presently, Lord Kalarian." Together both the nymph and Amal walk down the slope away into the darkness.

Only the centaurs and the redcaps remain, watching you.

[Darren]

Kal stands stiff-backed, watching everyone leave. Once they have gone, he breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes visibly. He grins at his friends. "I suppose we're back to waiting. At least until the Emissary and Wood Mistress return. If anyone has any objections or anything to add to the plan, now is the time to bring it up."

[Marcy]

"I think it is a sound plan," Charis replies, but her expression is pensive. "I hope to contact my brother once we reach Fairhaven, or mayhap find an exorcist through the local Silver Flame church there. I...dislike...the memory of that red-haired demon, and would have it and all traces of her taint gone from me as soon as possible."

Charis shudders, though it is not cold, and pulls her new cloak tight about her.

[Joe]

Streko looks around at the remaining beings in the circle. His friends and the strangers.

"I've never much enjoyed the company of strangers."

Smiling, he saunters up to the group of Centaurs. "It is my deep honor to greet you and my most fervent hope to learn more about your species. As a healer, the more I can learn, the more helpful I can be. As a follower of Olladra, the great goddess of fortune, the more people I might call friends, the better my chances of extolling Her virtues. Might we exchange brief histories whilst we await the return of the Mistress and our companion?"

Streko smiles warmly at the Centaurs, hoping his good cheer is contagious.

[Jeff]

The two centaurs regard Streko for a moment with startled silence, clearly not expecting so forward a conversation.

At last, the female smiles down at him. "I do not think we will be able to provide you much 'information' about our 'species,' little one,' she says, her accent much stronger than any of the other fey. It seems likely that the centaurs of this forest have less cause to speak the Common tongue than the fey of Thelanis. "Nor can I speak for all my race, or even my tribe. Tell me your...'brief history,' then, and maybe I will tell you mine."

The male glances at her, disapproval on his face. But he says nothing.

Oblivious to Streko, the redcaps, still standing on the west side of the clearing, take notice and joke at his expense. "Hoping for a ride with the filly, that little one?" one redcap says to the other.

"I'd take that ride, m'self," the other redcap says with a chuckle and a nudge of one bony arm.

The first redcap catches Belarin's eye. He kneels on one knee, stooping even lower than Streko stands, and folds his hands as if in prayer. "Might we exchange brief histories, sir?" he asks with mock demureness.

The second redcap laughs.

[Joe]

Streko turns at the redcaps' laughter. He chuckles softly. He speaks to the Redcap who appears to be kissing the ground..

"I have found that those who mock are merely attempting to disguise their own lack of self-worth. Olladra bless you and may fortune favor you, however it may choose to show itself."

He smiles again, a hint of mischief in his eyes, before turning back to the Centaurs.

"I assure you, I have no desire to "ride" you, My Lady. I am merely curious. My people come from a land of plains and wildlands. We ride on ancient beasts with brains the size of peas..." He glances over at the redcaps. "...or smaller."

Turning back to the female Centaur, Streko bows again. "Your people are unknown to me and I am nothing if not loquacious and inquisitive both. I mean no disrespect. On the contrary, I can think of no greater honor than to inquire about a people's history and culture with the intent of understanding them better, so that future contact might prove even more beneficial to both sides. I am not the type of halfling to merely assume a thing. I ask questions, hoping that my forthcoming nature bespeaks an honest attempt at being friendly and curious, rather than hostile and...mocking."

Streko sits down on the grass before the Centaurs and wraps his cloak around his knees. He reaches back into his haversack and pulls out his bottle of wine.

He has pointedly places his back to the redcaps and speaks directly to the female Centaur. However, he does make eye contact with the others in the group as he speaks.

"While we wait, may I offer you a drink? If you would so enjoy it, I would be honored to tell you of my personal history and the plight to which my friends and I, who were mere strangers not a month ago, have dedicated our lives to successfully resolving. Or perhaps you would rather know something else about me? My family, perhaps? Life in the City of Towers?"
____________________________________________________

Streko is making Diplomacy checks here as he speaks with the Centaurs. He doesn't necessarily want anything from them, but he is certainly attempting to make future discussions easier.

[Darren]

Jun 9, 2009 20:37:26 GMT -4 Joe said:

"I assure you, I have no desire to "ride" you, My Lady. I am merely curious. My people come from a land of plains and wildlands. We ride on ancient beasts with brains the size of peas..." He glances over at the redcaps. "...or smaller."

Kalarian stands casually in the circle, producing a dagger from somewhere within the numerous leather straps surrounding his right leg. He appears wholly engrossed in cleaning his nails, but raises his eyes to look at the redcaps and grins as Streko insults them. The look is brief, and then he returns to cleaning his nails, letting out a slight chuckle.

[Ken]

Belarin bows slightly at the first redcap's "invitation," then after a moment's consideration, he says,

Brief history, my redcap friends?
Dullness and strife, my parents were.
My youth was full of books and Droaam,
And to a lackbrain did I defer.

One day this brutish priest attacked
Two fey with caps of red. Betrayed
The priest I did, and "freedom" gained,
But through a pact Thelanis-made.

Now here I stand, warlock deranged,
Retaliating with pun and rage.
So ware you not my allies mock
Lest my red jabber be engaged.

Throughout the poem, he keeps his voice light, but there's no mistaking the darkness of his tone as he recites the last two lines. Still, he finishes with a wink at the redcaps and another slight bow. "And what is your tale, good warrior?" he asks.

[Jeff]

The male centaur broods silently, looking impatient. He looks up at the rest of Streko's party, and briefly meets Grafth's eyes.

"I do not think there is time enough for all of that, Streko," the female centaur says with a regretful tone. Perhaps on the way to the fallen vessel you can tell me of your family. I do not think I can imagine a city of towers." She looks up toward the dark canopy above. "For I have always lived in a home of wood towers, such as this."

When Belarin speaks his poem, the kneeling radcap gives him an incredulous look, clearly not expecting him to comply. The other redcap, standing back, raises an eyebrow very high at Belarin's words.

The kneeling redcap stands, then, and steps closer to Belarin. His nose only reaches Belarin's chest, but his eyes stray briefly to the oversized tooth hanging from a chord around the human's neck.

"In a powrie's debt, are you?" he says with a smirk, his own sharp teeth flashing. "Or a powrie's jest?" Then his smile vanished, and he narrows his eyes. "My tale?"

"Not history, human forger
But living strife, on borderlands
'Twixt two hours of Night
And the mercy of a nymph
With a need for blades
To guard her well in this bleak domain
This, your world of dullness and a dour sky
And here where—"

The redcap stops, and stares at Belarin with what appears to be growing anger. Then he glances down at the new dagger bequeathed to Belarin. "Do as she says, and you may win the favor of another redcap. She is very dear to us, Reacher. Your mettle will be tested where you're going. If you come back without the Mistress's possession, you will answer to this one."

The fey raises his hand and touches two fingers to his cap, which still glistens with fresh blood. Belarin knows the caps staves off the effects of congealing for quite some time. Slick now with the blood, he reaches out and clasps Belarin arm in a warrior's grip, each man holding the other's wrist.

"A promise," the redcap says with a mixture of respect and warning. Then he releases Belarin's hand, bows slightly, and turns away.

The male centaur trods softly over to Grafth. "For your assistance against the migrant dead, we are thankful. You are keen with your axe, weretouched." He bows his head to the shifter.

______________________________

Joe: no need for Diplomacy right now. Diplomacy is more about trying to persuade somebody of something, not merely befriending.

[Ken]

Jun 10, 2009 16:05:46 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The fey raises his hand and touches two fingers to his cap, which still glistens with fresh blood. Slick now with the blood, he reaches out and clasps Belarin arm in a warrior's grip, each man holding the other's wrist.

"A promise," the redcap says with a mixture of respect and warning. Then he releases Belarin's hand, bows slightly, and turns away.

Belarin appears momentarily shaken. "A promise true..." he mutters a moment later, returning the grip firmly. "If I fail to bring back the Mistress' item, then it will mean I am dead. And since I enjoy living too much, I will not disappoint her or myself."

When the redcap heads back to his previous position, Belarin says to the others, "Well, I had to rhyme. I haven't blasted anyone in hours! I have nothing else to add to our plans, Lord Kalarian -- all sounds satisfactory, but I'm slightly addled by today's events, so don't go by my opinion alone." Despite his levity, there's an odd, troubled look in his eyes.

After a deep breath, he gazes at his four companions and adds, "I have to say, though ... despite the glumness of the situation, I'm oddly looking forward to this. I've been on a solitary quest for so long that I'm eager to work as part of a group from the outset. Oh yes, we've spent the past day fighting alongside each other, but that had a haphazard feel to it. This is, well, planned. Refreshingly so. Am I making any sense? If I am, please stop me from making sense again. I have a reputation."

[Joe]

Jun 10, 2009 16:05:46 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"I do not think there is time enough for all of that, Streko," the female centaur says with a regretful tone. Perhaps on the way to the fallen vessel you can tell me of your family. I do not think I can imagine a city of towers." She looks up toward the dark canopy above. "For I have always lived in a home of wood towers, such as this."

Streko nods at the Lady Centaur's words. "Indeed, while Sharn is a city in which those of us without wings might touch the sky, I feel much more comfortable on wet grass and firm earth. Towers offer a view of the world. Forests and plains offer the world's heart and soul. Leave heights to those who can fly to them of their own accord, I say. I am at your service, my Lady. Now, about that wine..."

[Darren]

Replacing the dagger back into its sheath, Kal momes over to the box of coins and carries it back to the center of the circle. Then he sits on the ground next to the box, and reaches over to scratch the ears of the canine lying lazily next to him. He opens the lid and looks at the coins, then reaches into his pack and removes the two pouches he confiscated from Alvek. Dumping them onto the ground into two seperate piles, Kal begins to take inventory of what is in the pouches. He then begins to divide up the coins in the box into five equal piles. "We all deserve our fair share," he says to no one in particular.

_______________
If it's not clear, Kal is taking inventory. The coins in the box he is going to divide 5 ways amongst the group. Whatever is in the pouches will be split up after we see what's there. Also, Kal is paying special attention for a coin that matches the color in his vision.

[Ken]

"Oh," says Belarin, seemingly caught offguard. "Shockingly, I hadn't even considered that. My thanks," he says to Kal. He then reaches into a pouch of his new clothing and displays three silvery rings in the palm of his hand. "These belonged to Lady ir'Turien. I don't know what properties they possess -- if any -- but I'll hold on to them until we do." A pause. "I can say with certainty that she won't be needing them again."

[Jeff]

The female centaur lowers her front legs in an elegant bow that's more reminiscent of a well-trained horse's trick than a lady's curtsy. "Thank you, Streko."

Kal sorts through the coins, dividing them into even piles. His administrative skills in House Deneith kick in, and he counts quickly and efficiently. The last time he sorted through this much coin he'd been handling the contract of a very large brigade of mercenaries in the Talenta Plains. Of course, that was chiefly in gold and silver. Platinum coins are the province of the wealthy: rich merchants, nobility, and the dragonmarked houses.

After only a few minutes, Kal concludes that there are, between Alvek's pouches and the coffer:

420 gold galifars
315 platinum dragons (equivalent of 3,150 gp)

By the time Kal divvies out the coins, the Wood Mistress and Amal return. Amal comes before Kal, once again in his Deneith livery, and salutes to him. There is hesitation in his eyes, but also the obedience bred in him as a retainer of House Deneith. "I am once again at your command, my lord."

A few moments later, the Emissary returns, appearing on his branch again.

In his hand is a cylindrical scroll case made of some sort of bone, capped with silver. "Herein lies the name of the one you must seek out in the Nightwood forest in the land of Karrnath. Open this only when you are ready to set out. I cannot emphasize that enough. Names have power, and to know hers is a venture more dangerous than most."

The grig leans down from his branch on only his limbre legs and holds out the scroll case to whomever will receive it.

________________________

Each PC gets 84 gp and 63 pp. (I've alreaded added these to your character sheets.) Should anyone for some reason not want to take any of this cash, it'll go back to Kal. But spread out like this, there's no issue of emcumbrance, and Kal can leave the heavy wood-and-metal coffer behind.

Also, Kal is paying special attention for a coin that matches the color in his vision.

Darren: it's not going to be that easy, sorry. First you have to figure out what color that was. These coins from Alvek are exclusively gold and platinum (and platinum is silvery in hue).

[Darren]

Jeff - Well, duh.

Kalarian rises from the ground and quickly smooths out his clothes, then bows to the Emissary as he takes the scroll case. He studies it, seeming to weigh it in his hand, then turns and hands the case to Belarin. "Better with you, I think," he says.

With another slight bow to the Emissary, Kal says, "Again, our thanks to you and your mistress. I think we must be off now, but we will look for your messenger in two days time at 12 bells." Kalarian turns to the centaurs and gestures his desire to be off.

As he moves towards them, he passes Belarin and stops, a strange look on his face. He looks the other man up and down, as though he's looking for something, but not certain what. He shrugs, then begins to turn away, but suddenly turns back as though compelled. Again, he subjects the warlock to his scrutiny. Finally his eyes comes to rest on the dagger given to Kal by Lady Korvine d'Deneith. "My friend," he says quietly, "I wonder if I might examine Skyfang for a moment? I feel...." Kal blows out his cheeks, "...I don't know. Something." Kalarian holds out his hand. "May I?"


________________
I'm trying!

[Ken]

"Oh, that," says Belarin with an exaggerated sigh of relief. "For a moment, I thought you were going to say that I appeared less than handsome, and that wouldn't do. Here ... it was never my possession to begin with." He hands over the sheathed Skyfang from his belt. "Do you suspect that it has some unrevealed arcane properties?

"And I'll make a request of you in turn, my lord," he continues with a smile on his face. "I now have this shiny new, deadly, and probably danger-attracting dagger." He indicates the pact dagger that he received from the Wood Mistress. "Yet I have little skill in wielding such a weapon. In the few quieter hours that lie ahead, could I impose on you for some martial tutelage?"

[Jeff]

The Emissary nods slowly at Kal's words. Belarin can verily see the hesitation in the grig's face, and how alien a concept it is for such a fey to accept something so definitive as a particular time and place, as specified by a human.

The grig cocks his head and looks up at a few of Eberron's moons hanging in the night sky. "If I am able to send an agent to you at this time and place with any information, I shall do so," the Emissary says at last.

The Wood Mistress takes Belarin's hand and leads him a few steps away from the others. He feels a tingle up and down his arm at her touch.

"What you are to do," the nymph whispers to him mere inches from his ear, her breath cool and pleasantly aromatic. "I have asked of no other."

She then looks him straight in the eye. "I know of the sorceress Raeshara only by reputation. If her pupil succeeds in this quest, my influence within the court of Dusk will be restored and I will reward her accordingly. Please do not fail me, Belarin Malizia." She reaches up with one hand, covers his eyes for a moment, and kisses him half on the lips. Then she pulls her hand away, smiles, and steps back from him.

The male centaur stamps at the ground, reminding everyone that he is ready to go. "The fallen vessel is several hours' journey by your feet. If you are in a hurry to leave this forest, we should go now."

The Emissary nods and slips out of sight.

[Marcy]

Jun 15, 2009 15:48:44 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The male centaur stamps at the ground, reminding Belarin everyone that he is ready to go. "The fallen vessel is several hours' journey by your feet. If you are in a hurry to leave this forest, we should go now."

"Yes, indeed," Charis agrees with an emphatic nod. "The sooner we get somewhere I can find an exorcist, the better!" She pauses to consider her borrowed leather armor critically. "Someplace where we could go shopping would be nice, too."

[Ken]

Jun 15, 2009 15:48:44 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"What you are to do," the nymph whispers to him mere inches from his ear, her breath cool and pleasantly aromatic. "I have asked of no other."

She then looks him straight in the eye. "I know of the sorceress Raeshara only by reputation. If her pupil succeeds in this quest, my influence within the court of Dusk will be restored and I will reward her accordingly. Please do not fail me, Belarin Malizia." She reaches up with one hand, covers his eyes for a moment, and kisses him half on the lips. Then she pulls her hand away, smiles, and steps back from him.

Belarin gazes back at the Wood Mistress. He doesn't speak for a moment, as though he's reluctant to end the sensation on his lips. "I won't fail either of you, my lady," he says with a courtly bow. "I look forward to our next meeting." He looks toward the Emissary as well before he departs. "My thanks to you as well, sir."

He moves back to the others, looking slightly delirious. "Umm, where was I? Oh yes, scroll case ... got it. Skyfang, given. Painful tutelage from Lord Kalarian, to come? Crashed ship to find, yes. Shopping excursion with my lady Charis ... let's go!"

[Joe]

He moves back to the others, looking slightly delirious. "Umm, where was I? Oh yes, scroll case ... got it. Skyfang, given. Painful tutelage from Lord Kalarian, to come? Crashed ship to find, yes. Shopping excursion with my lady Charis ... let's go!"

"Agreed! Let us be on our way, my friends!"

[Darren]

As Skyfang passes from Belarin's hand to Kal's, flame suddenly leaps up from the sorcerrer's hand. Kal draws back quickly from the other man, holding the flaming appendage in front of his face with some surprise. The flame begins crawling up his arm, and Kal balls his hand into a fist, a slight grimace on his face. He squeezes his hand around the hilt of the dagger so tightly that even through the flame it is clear that his knuckles are turning white. Sweat breaks out on Kal's forehead from the obvious exertion. Finally, Kalarian lets out a bellow, and with a roar the flame disappears. Kal shakes his arm slightly, then casually tosses the dagger from one hand to the other, a huge smile lighting up his face. He flips the dagger over in his hand, then tucks it into the leather straps around his leg along with the others. "Well, that was interesting, wasn't it?" he asks. He looks at everyone else, seeming to be waiting for a response, then lets out a laugh and claps Belarin on the shoulder.

"It would be my pleasure to teach you, warlock. Shall we start with the sharrash?" he asks with a wink, hefting the halfling weapon onto one shoulder as he places the other arm around Belarin's shoulder. Again he laughs, his mirth at the display of power barely contained.

[Jeff]

The centaurs watch Kal's magical display with mild alarm. But when it has passed, the male centaur turns and trotts through one of the tree threshold (which no longer seem lead anywhere but out of the circle) and down the hill. "Come," he bids.

The female centaur follows. As the two equine fey pass behind trunks, they reach down and grasp long bows that have lain there. With full quivers and weapons in hand, they wait at the eastern side of the hill for the rest of you to gather.

It is still night, with the moons clear in the sky, though the inherent thickness of the canopy of this wood makes it darker still. "Stay close," the male says, "We will reach your vessel before dawn, if we keep at a good canter and do not stop to rest. We knows these woods better than most, but there are still dangers to be found. Keep your voices lower and your weapons close."

Although it is night, you all feel invigorated from a long period of rest, and the prospect of hiking for a few hours straight doesn't discourage you. Quite the contrary, you feel it's about time for movement again, anyway.

As the party settles into a walking pattern, you begin your eastward journey. The male centaur leads the party, while the female keeps to the very back to watch from behind.

But after a few minutes, the female centaur drifts close to Streko. "Tell me, little one, about your ancient beasts with very small brains..."

[Marcy]

Jun 16, 2009 9:55:41 GMT -4 Jeff said:

But after a few minutes, the female centaur drifts close to Streko. "Tell me, little one, about your ancient beasts with very small brains..."

OOC: Human men?

;D Sorry, couldn't resist!

[Ken]

As they walk, Belarin says matter-of-factly to Kalarian, "By the way, where did THAT --" he shoots his fingers out like a starburst, "-- come from? A latent talent 'tweaked' by the fey? I could tell that you sensed the power inside you suddenly, waiting for a chance to express itself."

[Josh]

The shifter seems to be in his element, silent and alert. If he has anything on his mind, it seems he'll relate it to the others later. Every now and then his head moves slightly to one side or the other as he listens to the dark noises of the wood.

[Jeff]

After a few hours of winding through the murkiness of the Whisper Wood, and hearing the windborne rustle that gives the forest its name, something interrupts the relative quiet.

Both centaurs stop in their tracks and raise their bows up, sliding arrows from their quivers, setting them, and drawing the strings slightly back in readiness.Then you hear it, too: distant shouts, as if called across wide open space. But not from anywhere on the ground. The sounds originate from above...

And then a dark shape glides slowly into view in the sky ahead, more or less going the same direction you are. An airship! Everbright lanterns attached to the main rail confirm it. Through the thick canopy, you can only make out that it's large...larger, even, than Captain Ralsor's Thunderhead. You can't see the whole thing, though it flies high enough above the trees that you normally would; the branches are just too numerous and tightly packed to reveal more. Still, it seems likely that the canopy is hiding you from sight as well.

Even so, both centaurs trod softly closer to the trunks of some trees and gesture for you to do the same.The voices you hear are orders being barked from aboard the ship. The voices are masculine, and you even make out some answering shouts, with a metallic timbre you know must belong to warforged.

The centaurs look quizzically to you, as if seeking some response to the new ship's presence. Friend or foe, they seem to wonder.

[Joe]

Streko shakes his head negatively and frowns, hopefully indicating to the Centaurs that he suspects they are the enemy, remembering the various warforged that attempted to kill him and his friends on several occassions in the past few weeks.

[Darren]

Kal, too, places a finger to his lips and moves closer to the trees. "I never thought I'd say it, but I wish Matheu were here," he mutters under his breath. He looks up at the ship, hoping it will pass and leave them undetected.

_______________
Is it actually passing over, or has it stopped?

[Marcy]

Charis moves quietly closer to the trees and strains to hear anything from above that might identify who mans the airship.

[Jeff]

The centaurs understand, remaining very still, eyeing the shape above very carefully. The airship continues to move, gliding slowly the direction you've been moving...and it's clear that whoever they are, they're searching. Now it's direclty overhead, and roving beams of light from focused lanterns pierce the canopy and send individual shafts of light into the gloom.

The shouts are distant enough that none are able to make out the words or the identity of the speakers. However, Charis, Grafth, and Streko see something of note:

On the hull of the ship they can just make out the darkly painted letters DIS...but the rest of the name is concealed by shadow and leaves. Then, as the ship keeps moving, the word is entirely out of sight anyway.

For the most part, you feel relatively hidden, standing close to trees and keeping still. A beam of light slides past Kal, glinting for a moment off a few of the strap buckles on his leg.

Another distant shout. You can't be sure, but the airship seems to be slowing its pace.

________________________

Perception checks: Belarin (6), Charis (18), Graft (28), Kal (10), Streko (23).

Stealth checks: Belarin (24), Charis (26), Grafth (20), Kal (6), Streko (7).

So the dice roller we've been using seems to be on the fritz now, and has been for a few days. I may need to find a new one. For the time being, I'll handle all rolling via the Wizards dice roller.