Chapter 6: The Limitless Rise

[Jeff]

By the bar, a wall divides Belarin from where Varna sits within the "second" room of the restaurant, but she still sits within range of his arcane appraisal. But after a minute or so, the only thing he detects is the presence of the magic of his companions.

Without even asking them, Orval fetches Belarin, Kal, and Condign a mug of ale each. "Will you stay with us, for a time?" the elder halfling asks them candidly. "At least until you've seen the sights or found somewhere more to your liking? Our home will always be open to you. You know that."

[Darren]

Kal sighs at Condign. "Must something always be amiss?" he says quietly. Raising his voice, he continues, "We are in the company of good friends, and all is well." Kal's voice is light, a smile on his face. "Father Tavven, of course we will stay as long as we are welcome. Your hospitality is most graciously given and humbly accepted." Kal takes a long drink from the mug of ale. He leans closer to the Halfling and lowers his voice to a playfully conspiritorial level, "Now. About that stew....?"

[Brian]

With a smile and a nod, Condign graciously accepts the mug of ale from Tavven. He continues to smile as Kal and Tavven talk with one another. When Streko's father is momentarily distracted by another customer, his smile fades and he quietly answers Kal: "You have me at a disadvantage, my lord Kalarian. I do not speak halfling, so I know not what transpires between Streko and his mother. But I sensed tension." Condign takes a pull from his mug of ale. "And, yes, in my land, something is always amiss."

[Jeff]

"Please," the halfling replies to Kal. "Call me Orval. Orval Tavven's been my name for a long time. There's no 'fathers' or 'lords' here. I'll see to the stew." His voice lowers, enough for Condign, Belarin, and Kal to hear. "When Streko and his mother and sister have said what they needed, we'll settle in and catch up, all right?"

________________________

Just going to play out this scene a little bit more. Then I'll skip ahead some time...at which point Dave will be able to join in.

[Joe]

The mix of emotions roiling across Streko's face is hard not to notice. Joy, anger, fear, hope, rage, uncertainty all battle for prominance. Needless to say, the tribex stew has been forgotten.

"Can you be sure it's her, momma? After so many years...after so much, are you sure?"

He follows his mother's glance toward the back of the Eatery.

"Varna..." he whispers so softly even Olladra's ears might have trouble picking it up.

Images of Malov flash across his mind's eye like explosions of blood splattered memory. Is that REALLY Varna? What is she doing here? Now? Too many coincidences. He instinctively turns back toward Kal, a pleading in his eyes.

"I don't know what to do. I've dreamed of this day, this moment and this is nothing like my dreams. Nothing. Olladra forgive me, I don't know what to do."

Too many questions. Too few to trust. No answers. Then, perhaps, hope. He locks eyes with Kal, then glances down at Tangat adn nods imperceptively toward the seat "Varna" occupies. Would Tangat be able to identify a possession? Would he be in danger and what of his parents? The innocents having a peaceful lunch. This is too much for the halfling. Too much too quickly.

"Forgive me, Momma. I must...I will return...I...must..."

Streko turns and races from the establishment, heading outside for some open air and for the chance to gather his thoughts and feelings into a coherent bundle of...something...anything.

[Jeff]

Esthryn stands alone for a moment, eyes wet, then nods at Streko. "I'll always be here, O-Streko," she says softly as he turns away.

In the corner, where Varna sits in shadow, she is seen to turn her head down and rest it on the table.

Tangat immediately gets up and follows Streko outside, pressing his cold nose into the halfling's hand.

[Darren]

Kal watches his friend go and shakes his head sadly. He raises a spoonful of the tribex stew to his lips, then puts the spoon down with the food uneaten and pushes the bowl away from him. He rises slowly from his stool, putting more weight on his left leg. The stiffness from the lightning rail car suddenly returns, the lightness Kal felt has gone.

After a moment, Kalarian moves towards the corner table where Varna sits.

"Hello, sister," he says, hesitating a moment before sitting down across the table from her.

[Jeff]

Aside from Streko, Kal is the only one to have seen Varna before with his own eyes—just once, briefly. She looks more or less the same, though her eyes have a shadowed look to them. It helps that she wears dark eye makeup, which hides some of the lines that reveals that she's quite a few years older than Streko.

The halfling lifts up her head when Kal sits. "Not your sister, though, Lord Kal," she answers slowly in Common. There is sadness in her tone, but a certain smugness there, too. After a few moments, she says, "I'm not sure I'm ready for your questions; I haven't answered many of my own. And I'm sure as hell not ready for my brother's."

"He looks good, though. Thank you for looking after him. And for deigning to visit the Lower City and all its unwashed masses." There is an evasive challenge in her eyes.

[Ken]

Feb 9, 2010 18:15:39 GMT -4 Brian said:

When he sees the other's gaze clear, he casually bends over, placing his elbows on the wood bar, and asks in a low voice: "Is there something amiss, my lord?"

Belarin waits for Condign to respond to Kal's slight critique, then he smiles slightly and says, "I fear I agree with Condign. Fortunately, though, I believe nothing IS amiss in our, um, typical sense." He scratches his nose conspiratorially.

He waits for the reunion to take place, but he's startled when Streko rushes out of the restaurant.

After Kal gets up to talk to Varna, Belarin follows Streko outside, where he sees his friend taking deep breaths. "I don't have brothers or sisters myself," he says lightly, "although some redcaps did once torment me by saying that my mother mated with a manticore. Or words to that effect. So I can't pretend to fully understand what you're feeling. But your sister is here, and she is with your parents -- in a warm blanket of love that is immediately noticeable by all, and one that I envy.

"If it helps you at all, I don't sense any charms or auras upon her. Granted, we know all too well that Malov's corruption works on a different level, but let us embrace the positive when we see it, yes? If Varna is to come back to the light, there is no better place for her to do so in all of Khorvaire than here, in the warm arms of her parents and her brother. If challenges arise, then we shall face them and vanquish them -- together. As a extended family, if you will. Considering that my only living relative may be a half-manticore bastard, you and the others are family members I shall happily embrace."

[Darren]

Kal turns his palms upward and shrugs slightly, then answers Varna in Common. "No, not my sister. But still close to my heart." Kalarian leans back, taking stock of the Halfling. "I won't claim to know what you went through at that bastard's hands, but I do understand some of what you're feeling now." He leans in closer. "It's strange to be here. This place, this life...it's not yours, anymore. You've tasted something and you can't just pretend it didn't happen. I understand, Varna. You don't have to fight it and you don't have to be ashamed of it." The man holds the Halfling's gaze, a serious look on his face. Finally he smiles warmly and again leans back in his chair. "That's all I wanted to say. I have no questions for you, truly."

Kalarian falls silent, still smiling, then slowly begins to get up as if to return to the stew at the bar. Unless, of course, Varna has more to say to him. He is more than willing to listen. If she does not wish to speak, then at least he'll be able to enjoy the stew while it's still hot.

[Brian]

Condign watches as Streko runs out of the building, followed closely by Tangat and Belarin. He sees Kalarian put down his spoon and push back his bowl of stew. The human then moves over to a table occupied by someone -- Varna? -- and sits down.

Sitting alone at the bar, Condign decides to let old friends address old issues. He tastes the tribex stew -- and marvels. He has never encountered such a mixture of flavors before! He tries another spoonful and it is just as good as the first. Before long, his bowl is empty.

As Streko's father passes by behind the bar, Condign says: "My lord Orval, your tribex stew is wonderful! Thank you!"

Condign looks over at Kal, who is still speaking with the other person at the table, then looks at the bowl of stew Kal left behind. It would be dishonorable to let such a creation get cold! And the tielfing surely could not allow dishonor to fall on such a fine halfling as Orval!

Condign reaches over and pulls Kal's bowl of stew over to him and begins to eat it. All in the name of honor.

[Jeff]

"My life is still my own," Varna replies, but she doesn't seem interested in pursuing the point. "I wasn't tortured, that I can recall." But she seems finished speaking with Kal.

Meanwhile, Orval doesn't seem bothered in the least that Condign reached for Kal's bowl of soup. He only glances worriedly toward the front door now and again.

[Darren]

Kal glances back at Varna and just nods in understanding. Then he walks back to the bar and sits down at the stool, ready to enjoy his stew.

He leans forward, looking left and right, trying to figure out where his bowl went. He sees Condign quietly eating, and thinks he might catch a small smile curling the tiefling's mouth. A strange sight, indeed.

[Joe]

Streko pats Tangat's head lovingly and nods his understanding to Belarin.

"Trust is a fickle thing, is it not? She is my sister, and yet she was in Malov's company, perhaps assisting him in his deviltry. She was, perhaps, used by Malov as so many others were.

"And yet, she has returned here, a place she swore she'd never see again, my parent's home. I add shame by running away rather than running toward.

"I feel like a coward. I feel ignorant. After so long...."

Streko turns toward Belarin. "After so long, I feel tired. This journey I spent literally all of my adult life travelling is complete and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. Olladra has given me a blessing...and I've turned my back from it. What does She think of me? What does Varna think of me?"

He begins to pace back and forth in front of the Eatery's main doors, oblvious to the glances from passers-by and the stares of his two friends.

"And my parents? I'm sure they are completely confused by my erratic behavior. I enter and am hailed a hero, only to turn tail and run from my own sister, who I have been chasing for twenty years. Where in Olladra's good name is the sense in that?"

He stops his pacing. Looks down at Tangat. "And that Tribex stew could have come from Olladra's Kitchen itself..."

He looks around and a huge smile splits his face. "And so it did!"

Streko turns to Belarin, finally. "You must think me gravely ill. Forgive me. Sometimes, I react. The only way for me to respond to such shocking dilemmas is to talk it out with Olladra herself. To think it through, as it were."

Streko tugs at his robs, caresses the holy symbol so dear to him and takes in a deep breath.

"No journey is truly over, is it, Belarin? Let's get back inside before the stew gets cold...and my sister thinks I am ashamed of her!"

Streko re-enters his parent's Eatery. "Father! Please make sure that my friends here are as well fed as the guest of any halfling might be. I have an apology to make, and then we can get back to what we need to do."

Streko turns toward his sister and walks over to her table.

"My apologies for being so stubborn. In that, I take after Momma. Will you forgive me, my dear Varna? Please?"

[Ken]

"You're apologizing to me for having arguments with people no one else can hear?" says Belarin with a chuckle as they reenter the restaurant. "I'm glad I met you, Good Streko." He rejoins Kal and Condign at the bar, eager to finish that ale.

[Jeff]

"My apologies for being so stubborn. In that, I take after Momma. Will you forgive me, my dear Varna? Please?"

The halfling returns her brother's gaze, and for a moment her face is neutral. Uncertain. Like she doesn't know what to do, either.

"Don't you dare ask forgiveness, baby brother. Not from me." She slides off her chair and stands eye to eye with him. He can she looks a bit different. Different even from that all-too-brief meet-up in Fairhaven several weeks ago, just before the chaos began. Not a proper reunion, that.

She doesn't look like someone who's had adventures. She looks worn, weary of mind. But there's a spark still there—of defiance, courage, and even mischief—that he remembers well. It makes him feel like a 12-year-old lad again.

"I've hurt you," Varna says, hands on her hips, and not meeting his eyes. "Might as well have wounded Olladra herself, for all my soul deserves from it." Then she shakes her head and looks back at him. "I'm not good with words, Streko. That's your thing." She steps forward tentatively, then seizes his shoulders like a Talentan...before pulling him close for a hug. She doesn't hold it long, pushing herself back again.

"Let's catch up, all right? On the good stuff. I want to hear about your adventures...you, warrior of Olladra, my brave little brother. And if....if I can remember anything...I'll tell you. When I'm ready, all right?"

______________________________

Incidentally: in 4E halflings aren't quite so tiny as they were in 3rd Edition. Closer to 4 feet than 3. I think I prefer that.

Let me know if/when you guys are good to go. I'm going to shoot forward a few days in time, when you're ready. For adventure to begin again.

[Joe]

"I've hurt you," Varna says, hands on her hips, and not meeting his eyes. "Might as well have wounded Olladra herself, for all my soul deserves from it." Then she shakes her head and looks back at him. "I'm not good with words, Streko. That's your thing." She steps forward tentatively, then seizes his shoulders like a Talentan...before pulling him close for a hug. She doesn't hold it long, pushing herself back again.

"Let's catch up, all right? On the good stuff. I want to hear about your adventures...you, warrior of Olladra, my brave little brother. And if....if I can remember anything...I'll tell you. When I'm ready, all right?"

"The good stuff it is, then, for in my journeys, many wonderful things have happened. And as for telling me or any of my friends about your past few years, that is your choice. I refuse to be an interrogator. All I want to do is spend time with my big sister. Though, truth be told, I'd LOVE to hear about your adventures. I'm sure they were as thrilling as any Inquisitor's tale and as dramatic as any story from the Korranberg Chronicle. Let us eat and drink and allow me to introduce you to the best friends anyone could ask for!"

He hugs her close again, briefly, then takes her hand and escorts her protectively toward his friends. He catches sight of his mother looking at them and offers a conspiratorial wink before breaking out into a massive grin.

"A large bowl of tribex stew for a humble servant of Olladra and his beautiful sister!"

[Jeff]

Orval is pleased. He raises his wooden spoon high in the air as if holding aloft a scepter. "Another bowl, coming up!" he says with a grin, then points the spoon at Condign. "But keep it away from this one. Or we'll be going out of business."

Varna elbows Streko lightly and says, quietly, "I'm positively sick of tribex..." She giggles, a delightful sound Streko hasn't heard in twenty years. "I'll have to take you and your friends to some other places I've found."

She climbs up onto one of the bar stools—which are a bit high for halflings, but a bit low for humans—and eyes Belarin, Condign, and Kal. "No real need for introductions, Streko. I know quite a lot about Lord Kalarian d'Deneith, 'a dragonmarked heir with a flare for battle magic.' And Belarin Malizia, 'a mysterious human agent of the Fey,' isn't that right?" She turns to look at Condign and she seems to take in his appearance with keen delight. "And...Condign, 'a child of savages raised in the desolation of the Demon Wastes.' Or did you think Sharn would be none the wiser of Fherina Heartsvale's writings?" She smiles.

"Streko, you've made much more interesting friends in the last few weeks than I ever have."

Tangat pads over to Varna and looks up into her eye. She reaches out to him and pats him on the hand, and he licks her hand. "You're smarter than you look, aren't you?" He makes a funny whining noise that's not quite a bark, but friendly.

Then Varna looks up at Belarin. "So your girlfriend's a nymph?"

[Darren]

Kalarian laughs at Varna's mocking. "In fact, sometimes I think Tangat here is smarter than Belarin!" Kal winks at Belarin. "But yes, we are fascinating people. Or, at least, *I* am."

[Brian]

Condign stands from his stool and bows deeply to Streko's sister.

"If you will permit this "child of savages" my lady Varna, I would be honored if you would allow me to call you a friend. Streko has spoken highly of you, and a sister of such a valiant halfling must be an amazing person herself."

Despite the formalities, you see a look of measured consideration on Condign's face as the tiefling speaks with Varna.

[Ken]

Feb 11, 2010 23:15:18 GMT -4 Darren said:

Kalarian laughs at Varna's mocking. "In fact, sometimes I think Tangat here is smarter than Belarin!" Kal winks at Belarin.

"Well, I'd rather be in second place than third," Belarin playfully shoots back.

"My dear Varna, it's a pleasure to meet you. Why, yes, my girlfriend is a nymph. Our first date was interesting, as I had to keep myself blindfolded the entire time, lest I be struck blind by her beauty. It's amazing how much more quickly a relationship can develop when you're forced to rely on the other four senses." He gives her a playful wink.

[Jeff]

Varna chats with you briefly, laughing easily and jesting more, though she says little of herself and asks few questions. Then excuses herself and disappears for a while up to her apartment.

Several days go by as you stay with the Tavven family and become acquainted with them. The apartment immediately above Esthryn's Eatery is where Streko's parents live; the one above that they rent as well, and this is where you stay. The rooms are small, but not tiny, spacious enough for halflings, if a bit "cozy" for humans and tieflings. Hardly comparable to the Fairview Inn, and yet more homely, more charming. The Tavvens have furnished and cared for it well, and Orval has enlivened each room with various potted plants.

Varna has a small apartment of her own several stories above yours. She spends some of her time in the restaurant, lurking here and there and often disappearing for various periods of time. It's clear she's used to going about on her own.

"She hasn't been home with us in a very long time," Esthryn tells Kal with a whisper. "She still needs to adjust." But Kal feels that Varna is a restless spirit, and will not likely merely "adjust" and stay home indefinitely.

Though it's easy to forget, it continues to occur to Kal that Streko's parents are Jorascos—dragonmarked nobility. Yet here they live and work in a lower middle class district, shoulder to shoulder to some very poor spots of the city. And where there's poverty, there's usually more crime. But despite their ties to a dragonmarked house, either they're not taking advantage of it or just don't care to. And they seem happy here. Kal knows that Streko didn't grow up a known heir of Jorasco; the family didn't even know of their Jorasco ties until Streko himself manifested the Mark of Healing as an adolescent. Of course, this is a common enough occurrence. Kal's heard many stories of Deneith bloodlines that were "rediscovered" after some long disconnect—usually because of the appearance of the Mark of Sentinel. Sometimes those foundling families are the descendants of excoriates. Generally speaking, such descendants are accepted back into the fold, not made to suffer for the sins of their fathers.

Varna remains relatively reticent about that recent months of her life. But she tells Streko that she traveled the breadth of Breland in the early years—and of course, Sharn. How she came to meet Malov in the guise of a young red-haired man named Onin (one of Malov's possessed bodies?), you don't know. And she hasn't said yet.

During these few days, although you find yourselves itching for some exploration and adventure, you find yourself helping the Tavvens out with some of their daily chores—despite their continued insistence that you don't need to bother with all that. It's hard not to. Both Orval and Esthryn are starting to get on in years and they run the restaurant alone; they haven't hired any waiters or scullery maids.

And you also come to learn a bit more about it: Esthryn's Eatery is built within the base of Skysedge Tower—one of the massive towers that reaches high to the Upper City district of Skysedge Park. The restaurant used to be known as Ellfate's Eatery, but during Streko's absence, the former owner retired and sold the restaurant to the Tavvens. Like Ellfate's, Esthryn's is famous for its omelets, drawing people from all over the city. Given the hundreds of restaurants and taverns in Sharn, the Eatery is not very well known, and it's tucked in a way in a low traffic area...but by word of mouth alone it tends to draw its visitors and patrons.

It specializes in omelets, with an original menu of items given amusing names, such as:

- The Blood of Vol, an omelet made with Karrnathi sausage and red pepper sauce.
- Th Skyway Special, a very light and fluffy dessert omelet served with whipped cream.
- The Eldeen Banquet, an omelet loaded with vegetables purchased from merchants in Skysedge Park, a district known for its Eldeen immigrants.

Needless to say, you eat well while you're here. Kal is starting to notice that Tangat's plumping up again, too. Orval, Esthryn, and of course Streko love to feed him. And he spends a great deal of time following Esthryn about.

At one point, Orval points to the raised platform at the center of the central dining room. "The stage is new. Had it put in last week. I haven't figured out just what to do with it yet. I was thinking of hiring some performers...try to draw in an evening crowd. Right now we get the morning and lunch folks, mostly laborers...and a fair number of travelers!"

Although much of your time is spent in the district of Olladra's Kitchen, sleeping late and enjoying the company of a very hospitable family, every now and then you get out to see a bit more of the city. Hardly knowing where to begin, you even encounter the half-elf skycoachman Twistren hovering near the bridges between Terminus and Olladra's Kitchen. For the promised fee of four sovereigns, he gives you all a brief sky tour of Sharn, telling you a little bit about the various quarters of the city and generally educating you about the City of Towers...

_____________________________

My next post will be some of that general Sharn info. Give me a bit and I'll be posting some more even after that.

[Jeff]

Sharn Basics

I'm keeping this Sharn-info post by itself, for easy reference/linking later.

You learn more about Sharn, at first more by description than from firsthand experience...

Humans form the greater part of Sharn's population, but every other major race of Khorvaire can be found, and even the rarer peoples constitute a sizable number of the city's residents. That same variety appears in the religious practices of Sharn's citizenry. Although the Sovereign Host and the Silver Flame have the most followers here, the Blood of Vol, the Dark Six, and even more obscure faiths appear with regularity. Cults of the Dragon Below are said to exist in Sharn as well...usually out of sight.

Order is maintained, as much as possible, by the Sharn Watch, and the city is ruled by a city council, the Lord Mayor, and a vast governmental bureaucracy. But the corruption of the Watch is well known, but seldom talked about. Generally speaking, the law favors the wealthy and the privileged, and both racial and national prejudices are rampant. Some members of the Watch are said to be honest people, but they're lost in the mix.

Ultimately, Sharn is part of Breland; its Lord Mayor answers to the King's Citadel in Wroat, and every permanent citizen of the city is technically a subject of King Boranel's. However, it doesn't take long for a visitor to realize that Sharn is a place all its own. It's too large, too dense, too diverse to be governed like just another of Breland's cities.

Those with some arcane training know that Sharn rests, not coincidentally, within a manifest zone linked to the plane of Syrania, the Azure Sky. This manifest zone enchances magic relating to flying and levitation, which makes Sharn's defiance of gravity and its many magical wonders possible. Without this effect, the sheer weight of its mile-high towers would crumble.

Most of Sharn's neighborhoods are vertically stratified, and the city as a whole is divided into several "quarters," geographically situated atop the plateau the city is built upon and the canyons between them...

Central Plateau is the centermost quarter, ringed by a long wall at its lowest level. Inside this wall, structures rise higher and higher toward the tallest towers near the middle, creating a great artificial mountain at the heart of the city. Mostly populated by the upper and middle classes, the Central Plateau houses the seat of the city's government, its wealthiest citizens, and its finest businesses. Embasses from other nations, important representatives of the dragonmarked houses, and banks are found here as well.

Menthis Plateau - Serves as the entertainment hub of the city, and is home to Morgrave University, and a variagated quilt of different races. It's by far the most trendiest and tourist-attracting quarter of the city.

Northedge - The most residential of Sharn's quarters, containing everything from towertop penthouses in the heights to tightly packed apartments on the lower levels. Aside from a marketplace district near the bottom of the towers, Northedge is a quiet neighborhood quarter with little commerce and little crime—relatively speaking.

Dura - The largest quarter in Sharn, covering the great expanse of the western plateau from the cliffs overlooking the Dagger River to the crevasse of the Western Cog. It is also the poorest, excepting the Cogs, with even its topmost levels solidly middle class. Dura mixes various businesses and housing, never approaching a true residential district but holding a number of apartments, tenements, and slums. The lower levels of Dura include a large population of immigrants from Darguun and Droaam, forming a neighborhood of goblinoids and other monstrous residents.

Cliffside - A neighborhood perched precariously on the side of the cliffs above the Dagger River and Sharn's waterfront. It includes the waterfront businesses far below Dura, as well as towers built up from the cliff face and a shantytown of caves dug into the sides of the southern cliffs. The businesses of Cliffside are either directly related to shipping or cater to boat crews, adventurers, and other transients.

Tavick's Landing - Eastern edge of the city, it's in some ways defined by being the terminus of the Orien lightning rail and trade road. The lower levels cater to travelers and traders entering Sharn by rail and include an entire city district that has been converted to providing housing for refugees from the Last War. The middle and upper levels are broader in their purpose.

The Depths - Generic name for everything that lies beneath the city's main plateau, excepting Cliffside and the Cogs far below. the upper levels give way to active an inactive sewers.

The Cogs - The churning heart of the city, full of forges and foundries powered by steaming geysers, molten laval, and arcane artifice. Extending far below the foundations of Sharn's towers and built along the banks of the great chasms that divide the city, the Cogs incorporate elements of ancient ruins and natural caverns.

Skyway - Demonstrating the most dramatic manifestation of the magic made possible by Sharn's proximity to Syrania, the Azure Sky, its towers are built upon clouds given substance. Skyway hovers above the highest towers of the Upper City. The residents are the incredibly wealthy and privileged.

The City of the Dead - The dead of Sharn are more often cremated these days than not, but in the city's youth (and still, to some extent, at least among the wealthy) they were more commonly entombed in mausoleums and crypts in the City of the Dead, high on the cliffs surrounding the city. These districts are nearly deserted in contrast to the bustling streets and towers of Sharn. Buildings are spread apart by hundreds of yards, or formed like a labyrinth of alley streets, and the only residents are caretakers and priests responsible for offering prayers to the ancestors of important families. The City of the Dead lies outside the manifest zone linked to Syrania.

[Jeff]

Far, the 13th of Sypheros 998 YK

It's an overcast morning. Although even when it's sunny and blue out, the Lower City still feels overcast, with only brief glimpses of the blue far above. Since you've been in Sharn, it's rained mostly, but the natives tell you it rains a lot. This part of Breland approaches a tropical climate, quite a far cry from northern Aundair. And although it's late autumn in Sypheros, it's fairly warm out.

You've just finished another hearty breakfast. Although truth be told, you're starting to grow a little tired of eggs, omelets, and sausages. Except Tangat. He doesn't discriminate. Not a single bark of complaint.

You were up earlier than usual today, driven by the need to get out. Perhaps to explore some more. Varna hasn't yet come down. In all this time, you've caught only glimpses of Matheu, lurking about on the side of a building outside or perched on one of the everbright lanterns which hang over the streets, never indoors. Where he goes or where he sleeps, you have no idea.

There's only a few other patrons in the restaurant right now, savoring their food and talking with one another. As you start to stack your dirty plates, you make out a whispered conversation between Orval and Esthryn coming from the kitchen...

"Just ask him, Esth. There's no harm in asking..."

"No," Streko's mother replies. "I'll not send my son into danger! Shame on you for suggesting it, Orval Tavven!" Her voice goes a little higher, drawing all of your attentions.

"Maybe there's no danger at all. All I'm saying is...they can go and ask around. That's all. And he's got his friends now, Esth. Streko would be fine."

"I'm not talking about this with you any more. And you won't say a word about this!"

Looking scolded, Orval comes out to stand behind the bar. "Umm...how was breakfast?" he calls out to you, where you sit at the table nearest the bar.

[Ken]

Belarin shares a quick glance with Streko, Condign, and Kal, and then says, "Breakfast was delicious, as always, Orval..." He leans forward in his seat a bit and continues in a lower voice, "...but we couldn't help overhearing your discussion. Is there a matter that needs looking into? Truth be told, I need an excuse to walk off the extra weight I've gained while in your marvelous culinary care."

[Darren]

Jeff, I hope you'll indulge me a bit, but I really wanted to do this....

Zor, the 12th of Sypheros, 998 YK - last night

Waking up in the morning, Kal looks at the clothes he has been adventuring in and decides that something better is needed. Asking Esthryn where he might find an appropriate tailor, Kalarian heads off in search of new finery.

Arriving at the tailor, Kal speaks with the man regarding some new shirts ("Red and purple, and soft materials, please.") and a new coat ("Long. Black. With a high collar, yes?"). He indulges the man when asked about goldwork embroidery on the coat, and finally gives in. "Just nothing too flamboyant, my friend."

Paying the man the required deposit and gathering assurances about when the work will be completed, Kal returns to Esthryn's Eatery. Seeing the place crowded with patrons that evening and the stage that Orval built being empty, Kal saunters over to it, then up to the middle of it. Clearing his throat, Kalarian begins to speak in a sonorous voice that, while not overwhelming, is loud enough to be heard throughout the room despite the conversations of the patrons.

"The manor was ominous from the outside," he begins, "but we knew we had no choice. Our enemy was inside, and we had to find him. Crows circled overhead." Suddenly, from the ceiling of the room, the sound of distant crows can be heard. Kal grins. "We pressed forward, a sense of dread coming over us. It was then that one of the crows swooped down upon us!" The sound of the crows shifts, and now one of them can be heard to caw loudly as though about to attack. "Quick reflexes allowed the warlock to catch his avian prey. That's when we learned that these birds were more than they appeared to be. An odd interrogation occurred next, but finally we wrested from the bird the information we needed and it was through the front doors we went." The is a loud sound of a creaking, heavy door being opened. "As our party moved inside, a pack of undead wolves attacked!" The sound of snarling wolves is heard from the far side of the room, near the bar. "We fought with ferocity," Kal says, holding his hand up near his face, blue sparks jumping between his fingertips and casting shadows on his face, "and the beasts didn't stand a chance against the strength of our steel, our arcane might, and the blessings of Olladra." Kal smiles across the room at Streko. "Moving further inside, we were again attacked, and again defeated all who stood before us. But we were unprepared for what we found in the basement. Hordes of the undead!" From various places around the room, the sound of moaning and the shuffling of slow moving feet are heard. "A massive battle was fought! The light of the cleric's holy blasts tore into the undead. Blasts of fey fire tore through the foul creatures! I, personally, felled dozens of them," Kal lances a bolt of electricity from his finger tips to the blade of his sharrash. "On the other side of the pile of undead bodies, we found her, the crazed sister of our enemy. She fled, but we pursued and in the end she was no match for our power. Beyond her, though, a creature was being summoned." A sound of wind whirls throughout the room, swirling along the outer walls. "A huge demon! It was terrifying to behold, my friends." Kal crouches low, his eyes scanning around the room and locking onto those of the patrons watching him. A loud roaring is heard from near the stairs leading up, then a whooshing noise, and then silence. Kal straightens up and smiles. "We arrived just in time to stop it. To prevent this demon from entering into our plane and wreaking havoc."

Kal bows low. "Of course there were many other exploits, and will be many more."

[Brian]

Zor, the 12th of Sypheros, 998 YK - last night

Condign sits at a table with Belarin and Streko and watches as Kal mounts the stage. He arches one blue-tinged eyebrow and asks the others: "What is he up to now?"

While listening to the tale, Condign is caught off guard at the sound of crows. He actually looks around to see where they are. Enraptured, he follows every word. He can almost see the undead wolves lope about the room. Or the hordes of undead fiends clamoring at his friends. He smiles down at Streko and Belarin; he knows who Kal's comrades are in this tale.

When Kal is finished, Condign rises and claps his hands together in the manner humans have of showing appreciation. Soon, the whole room is thundering with applause.

When the noise dies down, he looks to his friends again and asks: "You do not think I was supposed to be the demon, do you?"

[Jeff]

Zor, the 12th of Sypheros, 998 YK - last night

When Kal begins his tale, he gets some strange looks from the evening crowd. Then curiosity. A couple of laughs. Then a rapturously quiet audience. One child retreats into his mother's lap at the phantom growl of the undead wolves. When Kal finishes, there's an almost uncomfortable moment of silence. Then a clap. Then three. Then many.

"Was that real, momma?" you hear the child ask when they leave.

"Surely not," she answers.

"Talking crows?" someone else says to his dining companion.

"Who is that?" a young woman asks her friend. She looks like a worn out waitress herself, from some other tavern. "I don't see a girlfriend..."

"I don't know, but he's been here for a few days. Did you see...he's 'marked."

Varna slides out of one dark corner, looking up at the young human women. "Lord Kalarian," she says to them with feigned, but believable infatuation. "He's been in the Chronicles, you know. You should look him up. He's dreamy."

When Kal leaves the stage, Orval approaches him. "You're a gods-given bard, boy!" he says with a chuckle. "Thank you for that. That'll get 'em talking. I don't suppose I can afford to keep you on as my full-time entertainment, can I?"

Varna laughs at Condign's comment. "I don't think so," she answers him. "You know, you're not the only tiefling in this town."

Far, the 13th of Sypheros 998 YK - today

Belarin:

"...but we couldn't help overhearing your discussion. Is there a matter that needs looking into? Truth be told, I need an excuse to walk off the extra weight I've gained while in your marvelous culinary care."

A look of anxiety comes across Orval's face. "Oh, no, no....nothing, my boy. Nothing at all." He looks like he's trying to dodge a crossbow bolt.

______________________

Was is this, Lost, with two different timelines going on?

Excellent scene, Darren. I have no problem with it at all. More of that is always welcome! Just wish I knew you wanted to do that.

So...that's a scene that occurred last night. Hence my two dates listed above.

Kal's new clothing costs 10 gp (which I've already subtracted). It'll be one day's work to adjust the sizes, so Kal can return later today, the 13th, to collect it. Kal wears a chain shirt...so did you intend the shirts he's having made be loose enough to go overtop? Certainly the coat would. Or are these shirts for when he's not armored? Chainmail is bulky...so there's no real fooling anyone when he's wearing armor.

[Darren]

I guess the shirts would be for under the chainmail/when he's not wearing it? That probably makes the most sense.

Thanks for indulging me, Jeff. I read the part you wrote about the stage and thought that I really wanted to do that, but you had already posted into the next day by the time I read it.

Everything I post going forward is back to "present" time.

Kal wipes the sleep from his eyes. He listens to Orval's private conversation with his wife, then observes as the halfling dodges Belarin's questions. "Perhaps you should wrap him up in your cloak," he says to Belarin around a mouthful of food as he swallows and adds, "like you did to that crow. Then we could get the truth from him." Kal winks at the elder Tavven.

[Ken]

"That was a smooth move on my part," says Belarin, "but you play down your own skilled interrogation of the fowl! In any event, wrapping up a restaurant owner seems wholly out of place here." Looking at Orval, he continues, "Truly, good sir, you'd be doing us a kindness. Please, speak! We look forward to devouring challenges almost as much as we enjoy devouring your cinnamon rolls." His tone gets a little less jovial, but still entreating. "And have no fears about your son. Streko is the most capable of all us."