Chapter 13: A Ghostly Glow

[Ken]

Jul 23, 2017 7:21:30 GMT -4 Brian said:

"Would you join me in such foolishness? Would you leave Histra behind to recover our friend?"

Belarin looks at Melethos with wide-eyed incredulity. "Returning to that island stronghold would be an act of idiocy!" His express of horror becomes a smile. "Of course I would do it."

Jul 23, 2017 11:12:05 GMT -4 Joe said:

He looks up at Belarin. "I fear your fey side is at war with the side of you entranced and in love, perhaps, with Histra. I fear more that one side or the other will use your connection to its opposite as a means to take you, Belarin Malizia, away from us for good. You are strong-willed, and sly, and I am hopeful that you will confide in one or all of us. Do not fear for us, for we are all fairly powerful in our rights, I would say. It is simply this, I fear for you. Having spent time in the Underworld now, I would not wish that fate upon my enemies, except for perhaps a few, let alone my friends. Please, let us know what is happening with you so that we may be, at the very least, a voice of reason among the crowd. Our agendas will always be your safety. Can you say the same of the others?"

Belarin's eyes again widen, but this time it's not in jest. "I... I am struck speechless, Good Streko. I don't think that anyone has ever quite... read me so accurately. Clearly, I've been around you people too long." He playfully rubs the top of Streko's head. "You..." He breathes deeply for a moment. "You are quite right. There is a conflict within me. But the two sides are not exactly what you conjecture. I fear that my exposure to the lich bracers back in Dolurrh has left a lasting mark. The way that I spoke to Greshnaza's spirit? That's something I've never done before. Something I've never thought about before, in fact. But I suddenly knew that I could do it. I was almost compelled to do it. That power didn't come from my mentor Raeshara or the Wood Mistress, or any other fey, I'm positive of that. And that worries me. "

He removes the red cap and examines it again. "That's partly why I used this on the female necromancer. It belonged to a redcap named Valk, another mentor of mine, and perhaps my best friend among the fey. The redcaps believe that no slight should be tolerated. Any offense should be met with violent retribution. These caps they wear," he continues, putting the cap back on his head, "would be soaked in the blood of their freshly slain foes, as a symbolic act of closure but also a way to absorb some of their fallen foe's knowledge. I soaked the cap in Demise's blood not as an act of necromancy -- as ghoulish as it looked -- but as a flailing, desperate way to hold on to my fey connections after everything that's happened. Imagine my shock when its magic actually worked on me! I could actually see some of the unpleasant things she'd done." He taps the ornate mask now hooked onto his belt. "I could feel my mind's grasp of the arcane -- fairly superior to begin with -- increase dramatically. It was exhilarating. And it's what I needed.

"While my relationship with Histra won't affect my relationship with the fey -- yes, I'm probably naive for thinking so -- there is something that will cause conflict with Histra." He pauses. "I intend to kill Branash ir'Serell. I'll do it alone if I have to, but it will be done, for Syrdan's sake." Another pause. "Violent retribution."

He looks at Melethos. "Condi-- Melethos, When we're rested, could I request another session of blade fighting? It's been a while since we last sparred, and I have the feeling I need to explore everything this dagger can do, arcane and otherwise."

[Brian]

Jul 23, 2017 23:15:06 GMT -4 Ken said:

[Belarin] looks at Melethos. "Condi-- Melethos, When we're rested, could I request another session of blade fighting? It's been a while since we last sparred, and I have the feeling I need to explore everything this dagger can do, arcane and otherwise."

"Of course,' Melethos replies. "I have noticed a few minor flaws in your parry techniques, but that should not be hard to fix." He pauses. "The lady HIstra is fond of you, and you of her. To kill Branash, though he deserves it, may end that relationship forever. Perhaps we can talk about another fate for him, something fitting yet less...permanent."

Jul 23, 2017 11:12:05 GMT -4 Joe said:

[Streko] steps between Belarin and Melethos. He takes each of their free hands into his. "As an aside, the two of you have been holding secrets and continue to do so, since the beginning. I'm sure those secrets were kept for noble and honest reasons, but by all that's Holy and Profane, stop it!!"

He turns to Melethos now. "And you. While I know you are the same friend I've been privileged to know these past days, months, years, it seems, it takes a great deal of energy in attempting to remember that you suddenly have a new name and, perhaps, a new purpose? I would enjoy knowing more. Please, tell me more of yourself. Believe it or not, I listen almost as well as I speak, but not nearly enough, some would say."[/quote]
"We have few secrets between us," Melethos says. "Only one, really. And that one I shall keep for now. Trust us, it is not perilous, or, at least, I hope it will not be.

"As to the story of Melethos, that is too long a story for such a short journey. But I will tell you a small part of the tale."

Melethos rubs at his forehead, as if remembering causes him pain. "Barbarian tribes populate the Carrion Tribes. All are violent, some more than others. Ebonfire, the tribe into which I was born, counted among the most violent. They killed indiscriminately, always in an attempt to advance their own status among the tribes. Naturally, they trained me as a warrior, but in their own fashion, chaotic and savage. Never leave a foe alive, unless they were to be sacrificed to the Rage of War. The brutality...it never felt right to me. But I knew no other kind of life; I had been trained to fight and kill. And after Jyoti died, I felt lost, despondent. Before me stood a road of blood and dead bodies waiting for me to walk over them and on to further glory for Ebonfire. I could not find a way out, except for one way.

"One day, I was part of a raiding party. We were to cross the Shadowcrag Mountains and find captives. Sacrifices, actually. Tortured and put to death to honor the Rage of War. The thought turned my stomach. This violence would consume the rest of my life. I could not take it anymore and decided, once we crossed the mountains and I saw finally the world beyond the border of the Demon Wastes, that I would end my life."

For the first time in his story, Melethos smiles. "Not too far into the Reaches, a band of Ghaash'Kala orcs and half-orcs ambushed us. We outnumbered them, but they fought with precision, using tactics I had never seen before. They killed everyone. Everyone, that is, but me. I took a sap to the head and was knocked out. When I woke, an orc paladin named Lorjad spoke to me. He showed me compassion for the first time in my life. And then he offered me a precious gift: a place among the Ghaash'Kala. He became my mentor, and I found the purpose to my life. The desire to take my life ended. For the first time since Jyoti died, I felt happy.

"I stayed Melethos, at least for a while. It was not until later that I became Condign. But that, my friend, is a story for another time."

He smiles down at Streko. "That will have to satisfy your curiosity for the moment. We need to focus on making it back to the Inn."

[Jeff]

While there is no outright avoiding the Harbor, for you must pass through it to reach any other destination in the city, but Shorak knows the best way to avoid the thick of it. He leads the party along its southmost edge, following the cliff wall and then the remains of the giants' own walls of old.

This leads you through the a part of the district where the Waterworks, the ancient sewerage pipes that lie beneath the city, extend up to the street level in great hatches and tubular mazes. The streets you pass through wind beneath and among these old iron canals and aqueducts. This area seems particularly quiet now in the rain, though normally it's best avoided since this is a well known, among Stormreachers, as the territory of the Bilge Rats. But as such, it's a good place to avoid the Stormreach Guard. While none challenge your passage, you don't feel as though you're going unnoticed. The occasional flicker of eyes watching from alleys and open hatches remind Shorak that the Waterworks' denizens, whether human or otherwise, observe them.

Then along the Harbor's northwestern end you pass, and enter into Cross. Here you do spy some activity of the Stormreach Guard, running from some minor squabble or emergency or another, but they pay no heed to one water-logged party of hooded men such as you. The rain continues its assault on the city, but it's moderate now and the thunder is just a murmur.

You do hear sounds in the air all along the way, the far-off howl of a beast or bird-like screech. You even hear a few distant screams that sound like...horses?

As you enter the Cyran neighborhood of Dannel's Pride, which looks empty but is too filled with the destitute to be actually vacant, you spy the movement of airships overhead. Though they are just silhouettes in the cloud-heavy sky, their elemental rings glow with red, orange, or blue light, revealing them. You cannot help but wonder if the Northern Wraith is one of them. There's just no telling from here.

All the ships you do see are moving away from the nearby tower of Falconer's Spire, House Lyrandar airship docking tower, which all ships (whether owned by Lyrandar or not) come to for easier access and security. Some of them are moving not away from the city itself but up towards the clouds directly.

Some of you remember your adventures aboard the Thunderhead, long ago now, and you cannot help but think about the roguish but good-hearted Captain Ralsor and his artificer friend Leverage, and the perils from a lifetime ago that somehow led you to this city.

The Cornerstone Inn is just ahead now.

[Brian]

As the Inn comes into view, Melethos checks the surrounding area for anything unusual, for anyone who seems to be standing about doing nothing more than watching the Inn.

______________________________________________________

Melethos:1D20+1 → 12(11 + 1)#Perception check

[Darren]

Kal notices Melethos scanning the area. "Good idea," he says. "Shorak, is there a back entrance to the inn? Can you get us there without us getting noticed?"

[Jeff]

Shorak never scouted out a back entrance, but long experience tells him that an inn in Stormreach has at least three entrances—front door, side or back door for the use of the staff, and very likely a sewer entrance (often welded shut, but you never know).

As Melethos squints through the rain, looking in the nearby allies—even up on the rooftops—he sees nothing until—

—a bit of movement in a nearby alley. A figure sitting up from a lying-down position. Then it rises to its feet, its movement too slow and jerky to be a normal person's.

Histra's recently-animated leather armor–clad skeletal servant steps out, sword short in its hand. It now wears a battered helmet she must have found somewhere. And it now carries a well-worn shield. With almost no one else around in the rain, there seems to be no one to frighten with this undead sentry.

The skeleton gestures at Belarin, up towards his head. "That is not a good look for you," it says in a reedy, almost wheezing dead voice, but he can just make out a feminine inflection behind the skeleton's own.

[Darren]

Kal has been around undead most of his life. Even though they're not necessarily central to the soldiers of Deneith, they are widely used throughout the Kaarnathi army and were a fixture on the Talenta Plains. Despite that, Kal was never able to grow comfortable around them, and Histra's servant is no exception. He takes a step towards Shorak, and away from the skeleton. "The back entrance, then," he says.

[Ken]

Belarin says, "A moment, Kal." He addresses the skeleton. "Histra, can you converse through this skeleton? Where are you now?"

[Darren]

Jul 24, 2017 16:29:44 GMT -4 Ken said:

Belarin says, "A moment, Kal." He addresses the skeleton. "Histra, can you converse through this skeleton? Where are you now?"

"Catch up with us when you're done," Kal says quietly to Belarin. "A group of us standing in the street talking to a skeleton is likely to draw attention. We'll be upstairs. Don't get into trouble...."

[Jeff]

Jul 24, 2017 16:29:44 GMT -4 Ken said:

Belarin says, "A moment, Kal." He addresses the skeleton. "Histra, can you converse through this skeleton? Where are you now?"

"It is not as swift," the skeleton answers. "But yes, I can. We are in the professor's suite, as always." The skeleton pauses. "I am glad you abandoned the paladin. He would not have been able to cope with more difficult choices to come."

[Ken]

"He's not abandoned," says Belarin simply. "We're heading up. See you shortly." He follows the others.

[Brian]

Melethos follows the others. When he gets close to Belarin, he says, "How does the lady Histra see through that thing, when it does not have...eyeballs?"

[Ken]

"I'm not sure," says Belarin, "but she clearly can't see very well. I mean, she said the cap wasn't a good look for me. Please."

[Joe]

Streko feels his temperature rise. "Did she just say she was glad we ABANDONED the paladin? Most troubling. More troubling, indeed." He leaves Belarin's side and moves over to his more familiar position next to Kal. "I hate the dead," he mutters, "and those who serve them. They are often as foul as those they reanimate."

[Jeff]

"Come up," the skeleton rasps.

Shorak finds a back door in a nearby alley, but finds it locked—his guess is it leads directly into the staff-only kitchen. Beyond that, there is only the front door. Looking up, you can see lights in the windows of the small out-thrust tower suite that Larest has rented.

The skeleton stalks back into the alley it came from and vanishes from sight.

Where to?

[Ken]

Belarin says to the group, "The skeleton somehow got down here without being observed -- I mean, a skeleton would attract attention in the bar because he's not ordering anything to drink."

He steps after the retreating skeleton. "Have you found an entrance that we can use and not be observed?" he asks of the skeleton/Histra.

[Jeff]

"I did not animate this shell in the inn," the skeleton/Histra answers. "We are not being spied on. Come up. Safer here than the street."

[Ken]

"Front door, then, gentlemen," says Belarin. "Let's go in two at a time, though, yes?" He looks to Kal for a response one way or the other.

[Darren]

Kal gestures to the front door. "So be it, then. Two at a time, as you suggest. I'll go first, with Streko. Follow as you will." Kal moves to the door, lowering his hood as soon as he steps through it. His face may be recognizable, but the shifting colors of his enchanted cloak are likely to draw even more eyes.

[Joe]

Streko enters with an air of confidence, but not superiority. He is a cleric of Olladra and, by the Host, he will act as one. He stands next to Tangat, keeping the hound between him and Kal.

[Jeff]

Into the inn you go, first with the dragonmarked. It's still exceedingly crowded in here, with so many of the locals taking shelter from the rain, and if it's possible it's even louder with talk. But you can't pick out any one thing, the din is overwhelming. A few of the nearest people glance your way as you come in. Either no one notices that the human and halfling are dragonmarked, or they're too ragged to see it, or the people just don't care.

As you pass through and head to the corner stairwell, you see not a single scrap of Stormreach Guard uniform. Which is relieving, but also not surprisingly. It feels as though the Coin Lords pay little heed to the desperate and impoverished Cyran refugees.

Through a door, and the spiral stair you wind up, and finally, two at a time, reach the tower suite.

First, you see Histra standing near the entrance, watching as each of you comes up. With one arm she leans on the wall, with the other she rubs lightly at her jaw, which looks freshly bruised. But there is a half smile on her lips. Just past her, inside the central room, you see...

Adamant!

The warforged looks like he's been here a short while and though he's probably toweled off a few times already, still a small puddle of water has gathered at his feet. He seems oblivious to this and now looks toward you. His faceplate, as always, has no expression to offer, but you at least imagine some concern there. His normal soothing presence seems a bit...diminished. Aven is here, too.

Sem Darlesh sits at the desk with Larest. The professor looks unusually pale; his left shoulder is bandaged and partially soaked through with blood. He looks glad to see you, though.

You don't see Starg but you do hear his snores issuing from one of the rooms.

"Well, like usual, you look like hell," Sem says, spinning around in his chair and pointing a finger at you all. "Like something so foul even an otyugh would cough you up. If Khyber itself had a sewer, you look like you went swimming in its lowest refuse pits. Like, that bad."

The gnome is all smiles, though. "So, you've at least had a productive morning." He points at the two warforged. "No surprise: I couldn't get too much out of these two—seriously, we need a House Phiarlan bard to teach them how to tell a story right—but unless I am mistaken, you succeeding in finding and freeing the she-sphinx. But in the process, somehow let one Jonas Wylkes see your faces?"

Sem hops off his chair and walks over. "As in, he got a good look at your handsome and/or hideously battle-scarred faces? That...doesn't portend well."

Before you can answer the fast-talking gnome, Histra cuts in. "Who was this 'wizardess' that the warforged speak of?"

Chapter 13 is almost at its end! (When the day concludes, assuming you wish to take a long rest soon?) See Q&A thread for XP talk.

[Jeff]

Into the inn you go, first with the dragonmarked. It's still exceedingly crowded in here, with so many of the locals taking shelter from the rain, and if it's possible it's even louder with talk. But you can't pick out any one thing, the din is overwhelming. A few of the nearest people glance your way as you come in. Either no one notices that the human and halfling are dragonmarked, or they're too ragged to see it, or the people just don't care.

As you pass through and head to the corner stairwell, you see not a single scrap of Stormreach Guard uniform in the crowd, not even off-duty. Which is relieving, but also not surprisingly. It feels as though the Coin Lords pay little heed to the desperate and impoverished Cyran refugees and probably don't venture into Dannel's Pride often.

Through a door, and the spiral stair you wind up, and finally, two at a time, reach the tower suite.

First, you see Histra standing near the entrance, watching as each of you comes up. With one arm she leans on the wall, with the other she rubs lightly at her jaw, which looks freshly bruised. But there is a half smile on her lips. Just past her, inside the central room, you see...

Adamant!

The warforged looks like he's been here a short while and though he's probably toweled off a few times already, still a small puddle of water has gathered at his feet. He seems oblivious to this and now looks toward you. His faceplate, as always, has no expression to offer, but you at least imagine some concern there. His normal soothing presence seems a bit...diminished. Aven is here, too.

Sem Darlesh sits at the desk with Larest. The professor looks unusually pale; his left shoulder is bandaged and partially soaked through with blood. He looks glad to see you, though.

You don't see Starg but you do hear his snores issuing from one of the rooms.

 

"Well, like usual, you look like hell," Sem says, spinning around in his chair and pointing a finger at you all. "Like something so foul even an otyugh would cough you up. If Khyber itself had a sewer, you look like you went swimming in its lowest refuse pits. Like, that bad."

The gnome is all smiles, though. "So, you've at least had a productive morning." He points at the two warforged. "No surprise: I couldn't get too much out of these two—seriously, we need a House Phiarlan bard to teach them how to tell a story right—but unless I am mistaken, you succeeding in finding and freeing the she-sphinx. But in the process, somehow let one Jonas Wylkes see your faces?"

Sem hops off his chair and walks over. "As in, he got a good look at your handsome and/or hideously battle-scarred faces? That...doesn't portend well."

Before you can answer the fast-talking gnome, Histra cuts in. "Who was this 'wizardess' that the warforged speak of?"

Chapter 13 is almost at its end! (When the day concludes, assuming you wish to take a long rest soon?) See Q&A soon thread for XP talk.

[Dave B.]

Shorak motions for Melethos and Belarin to enter. "I will follow." He moves to stand against the building, the eaves above offering little respite from the rain. After Melethos and Belarin enter he will wait a few minutes, then follow. Shorak takes that time to look about and confirm that they are not being watched or tailed.

Heading upstairs alone and staying as quiet and inconspicuous as possible, Shorak is surprised to find Adamant already back. "Well, glad you made it back safely, Adamant. But how did you manage to get here before us?"

Shorak has one hand inside his cloak, almost caressing the puzzle box, his curiosity itching to open it.

[Darren]

Kal stalks angrily towards Adamant, focusing in on the warforged before all others. "That was a very stupid thing you did, Adamant," he says angrily. "We are a team, and we must trust each other. You will never do something like that again. Are we understood?" Softening, Kal smiles and a places his hand on the battered shoulder plate of his construct friend. "I'm very glad to see you alive...functional. Were you able to retrieve the skull?"

Turning back to the room, Kal addresses Sem. "Colorful with your descriptions, as always, Sem." Kal smiles. It is good to see the gnome again. His energy lightens Kal's spirit. The Deneith heir drops into a chair. "It is so wonderful to just sit and not worry about anything eating me," he says. He lets out a long contented sigh. "Yes, Llash-Tava is free, and she has given us a lead on who may know the location of the Eye. Hopefully we have gained a significant advantage over our adversaries. Otherwise, we have made new enemies and gained very little." Kal turns his gaze on Larest. "It's true that Wylkes was there in person, and he knows who we are now." Kal glances at Belarin and Melethos, daring them to say more. "It was unexpected but also unavoidable. He would have learned of us sooner or later. I don't think we can watch our backs any more than we were already and Wylkes cannot act openly in this, anyway. Argushem will soon be free, if he is not already, and assuming the two of them leave anyone alive, Wylkes and the other Coin Lords will have a fair bit of explaining to do, anyway. No, I am no more worried about Wylkes today than I was yesterday."

Kal closes his eyes briefly, feeling his body sink into the chair. "What did you find while we were away?"

[Ken]

Belarin barks with delight at the sight of Adamant. He looks at Histra. "You ... were jesting! That's wonderful!" Histra sees true, deep affection in his eyes.

After Kal's quick description of the events, he adds, "That a Coin Lord would identify one or more of us during this mission was as inevitable as a medusa killing a barber." He gives Kal a look of support. "Overall, we did quite well, but it was as dicey as any situation we've been in. We almost turned back."

Jul 25, 2017 21:02:53 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Before you can answer the fast-talking gnome, Histra cuts in. "Who was this 'wizardess' that the warforged speak of?"

Belarin shows Histra the ornate mask. "She was called Demise," he says solemnly. "A formidable necromancer. I think, as does Llash-Tava, that the mask allows her to cheat death by possessing other bodies, so I wouldn't try it on. Histra, did you know her?"

[Jeff]

Starg steps into view now, roused by the conversation. He looks weary and sleepy-eyed. The elder minotaur inclines his head when he looks at your party. Seeing Belarin and Kal engaged, he directs his comment to Streko, Shorak, and Melethos. "You have done a deed of justice, freeing the sphinx."

Histra's smile deepens at Belarin's comment about jesting. She looks unsure of herself, but is glad of his reaction.

Jul 25, 2017 22:41:14 GMT -4 Ken said:

Belarin shows Histra the ornate mask. "She was called Demise," he says solemnly. "A formidable necromancer. I think, as does Llash-Tava, that the mask allows her to cheat death by possessing other bodies, so I wouldn't try it on. Histra, did you know her?"

The necromancer takes the mask into her hands and turns it over, studying it as she speaks. "Demise! Yes, I know of her." She pauses, lost in thought, her eyes gleaming with an eager light. Belarin is left wondering if he's just given child-Histra a puppy, or a beloved toy.

She looks up and explains. "Demise is something of a legend to my family. Some, like Arthegon, have met her. Consider any one of my family members, their fascination and their skill with necromancy. Now give that one the lifespan of an elf, a violent and rebellious spirit, and envelope them in a religious culture that reveres one's ancestors and even reanimates them. Yet to the elves who revere the Undying Court, undeath itself is inaccessible. Forbidden. As a culture, they loathe the undead, and do not believe their necromantic practices to be necromantic at all. They call their returning loved ones the deathless, the undying, though they decry anything similar for anyone else. Your friend Syrdan, and Lerhanna, would know much more about this, of course, and would doubtlessly find my words blasphemous for even suggesting otherwise."

"There is a...splinter faction among the elves of Aerenal called the Stillborn, and Demise is one of these. They believe in the Undying Court but they are impatient, unwilling to wait centuries and true death for the mere possibility of becoming one of the deathless in greater time. They want it now, and do not make a distinction between the deathless and the undead, for they regard it is as a gift and a means to power greater than the living can possess." Histra shrugs. "As you have seen, even members of my own family experiment in self-inflicted undeath. I do not judge the Stillborn for their outlook. Yet they, among elves, are young and rash. They are the rebellious adolescents of their people. Demise is one of the more famous ones."

She lapses into silent contemplation, staring at the golden mask.

Then she looks up, changing the subject for now. She points to Belarin's head, and the cap he wears. "Explain this. This is that horrid thing you've been carrying around since your time with the fey, yes?"

Jul 25, 2017 21:51:11 GMT -4 Darren said:

Kal closes his eyes briefly, feeling his body sink into the chair. "What did you find while we were away?"

"A fair amount, and yet not much," Larest answers. "I am sorry. I was not able to secure passage skyward, as I had intended. Everywhere we searched, beasts, vehicles, and even spells-for-sale, all reasons were already gone, or accounted for." He shakes his head. "And we are falling behind. Many beasts we have seen wheeling in the sky—griffons and hippogriffs, mostly, but also Aundairian dragonhawks and—"

"A few glidewings," Sem offers. "Oh, and pegasuses. Pegasi?"

Larest nods, and goes on. "And, well, wyverns. I am quite certain now that it is Emerald Claw that has somehow secured those poisonous drakes. They've made some new alliances on these shores, somehow. The Order isn't known for being a friend to beasts." Larest stops, seeming defeated.

Starg raises his horned head. "I have studied, and mastered, a spell of flight. But each casting can lift only one individual, and then only for minutes. Perhaps good enough for one to go up, but not to come back."

Sem holds up a finger, knowing something. "But..."

Larest nods, his expression still serious. "I have, in the process of seeking upward transport, that I may have found a means of transport into the jungle. Depending, of course, one where our destination is. And that still eludes us. Whoever dwells in those clouds above us is alleged to have that answer, and that is why our rivals have been going up."

Sem nods, his eyebrows coming together in puzzlement. "And that's most curious. They're not just going up. We're seeing some of them coming back down. I think those people have answers. It's almost like someone, or something, up there is standing around giving out the answer freely. We just need to get there."

[Brian]

Melethos steps into the room. His stance suggests extreme weariness. He takes time to clean the blood and gore from his blade, then carefully removes his armor. The padded shirt he wears beneath is drenched in sweat. "This will have to be cleaned," he mutters, holding out the shirt.

He moves to stand in front of Adamant. "While I am glad you are back, and safely, I must agree with Kal. You risked much, perhaps too much, by going for that skull. I only hope that you found it." He gives the warforged a friendly clap on the shoulder.

Some leftover cheese and bread sits on a table. Melethos takes a hunk of cheese and eats it in two bites. "We have to go to the Tents of Rushemé. A giant is there, Kruthor. He can help us next." The tiefling picks up a piece of bread. "But first we must rest. Freeing the sphinx nearly killed us. We can tell our story more completely in the morning, and then decide who will do what next." He glances at Histra. "Unless there is some crisis that we need to address right now?"

_____________________________________________

If there is no current issues to address, I say we take our long rest. Any objections?

[Dave W.]

Adamant stands tall, braced, as Kal marches up to him. The warforged is relieved with Kal's display though nothing can be read on his faceplate, "I hear you, Kal." He replies simply. He likewise is relieved that Melethos is speaking to him, "I could not allow the rest of you to take the risk."

To Shorak he replies, "I flew. Llash-Tava came back and carried Aven and I back to the city. It was terrifying... and beautiful."

"I was able to collect the skull, I still need to return the remains and the sword to the respective families. But perhaps after a rest." Adamant is obviously battered by the recent events, but stands tall... with a sense of solidity that you usually only see displayed in combat.

---

added a comment to Melethos (still getting used to that) since we simul-posted

[Darren]

Kal nods. "As Melethos...that's his name, now, by the way....as Melethos points out, I hear you that people are going up, but have you observed anyone going out? The Tents of Rusheme are where Llash-Tava has directed us, and with any luck the information we receive will allow us to leapfrog our competition." Kal winks at Streko. "This might be a good time for a prayer to Olladra," he says in a loud whisper.

[Jeff]

Jul 26, 2017 10:10:27 GMT -4 Darren said:

Kal nods. "As Melethos...that's his name, now, by the way....

Sem and Larest look to the tiefling at this, puzzled.

"Wait, whoa," the gnome says, marching up to Melethos. "You just upped and changed your name? Can you do that? Is it because you're a tiefling? WAIT." He whirls around and points at the minotaur. "Starg has horns, too. Can we change his name? I'm voting for Lord Bovinor. Or maybe Baron Bullock." Sem looks at Shorak. "Wait, what's Drow for 'man-cow'?"

Jul 26, 2017 10:10:27 GMT -4 Darren said:

"...I hear you that people are going up, but have you observed anyone going out? The Tents of Rusheme are where Llash-Tava has directed us, and with any luck the information we receive will allow us to leapfrog our competition." Kal winks at Streko. "This might be a good time for a prayer to Olladra," he says in a loud whisper.

Ignoring the gnome, Larest nods gravely. "Yes, some. I've seen two airships depart inland. And there is a rumor that expedition parties are gathering, ready to head out on foot. Factions are moving. I don't think we can afford to wait for long. If you think there are answers to be found at the Tents of Rushemé, then I would wait no longer than the morning to pursue that."

To Melethos, the professor says, "Yes, you should rest. We will all need our strength."