This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Upon seeing Roland's body, Ishtayu's cheerful demeanor fades for once, dropping to a cold expression. Though he hadn't spoken terribly much to this man, he was still a would-be companion of Ishtayu's. Picking up on the finer points of the wording, and quite familiar with what his own culture would do with a corpse laid out on a table in such a way, he maintains a calm composure while he speaks, "Odd indeed. When speaking of feasts, most human cultures don't lay out corpses upon a table - many would find it abhorrent, I would think." As he speaks he tries to judge just how genuine his host's words may be, suspicious of whether the tale of how they found the body is true or not.
Lenthium sputters and spits out the drink he was quaffing as Roland's body is revealed, standing with a loud scrape as the chair skitters across the floor. "Lathander's Trumpet! Why in the Heavens would you do THIS?" Shocked and disgusted by the sight, he steps up to his friend's corpse, resting a hand on the cold, still chest. "You outright primitives! Low born, godless, revolting heathens! How dare you treat him like a centerpiece in a gruesome feast!" Grabbing his friend, Lenthium pulls him off the table, throwing him over his shoulder and staggering out into the morning air. Muttering angrily to himself, he carefully lays his friend out under a tree near the stables, searching for a shovel.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?" "Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied ― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
Insight: very odd but seems to be a local custom the hunter celebration everything has a feel about it like a passing on right.
Perception: Blurry food shaped food. You might need to see an eye wizard
Worf stoically walks up" There was no disrespect intended we were honouring him" seems kind of angry you questioning tradition" here he hands you a map.
The Drow stares at the scene with detachment, he is not habited to anything really, apart from living with a creepy and maleficent hag, so living the dead Warrior on a table or not, for now, it seems to make no difference for him. Anyhow, he shrugs, he sees the anger of the Dwarf and the disdain of the Aazimar....he focus on them...trying to catch their expressions...tone....."Why they feel that?" "Are you talking to me?" "Me?...What? Nothing..."
While getting outside with the others he remains in silence, sometimes, he tries to mimes others facial expressions.
A raven caws, interested in the living man laying a dead man at the bottom of his tree... “a gift perhaps? A Gift for me?”
The boy siting next to the bird runs his hands down it’s smooth feathers and says “as appropriate as ever” in a disapproving whisper.
”you won’t want to bury him here” the boy says turning his attention down at the party. “It’s a pretty spot, but the roots will make the grave shallow.” The boy looks down with a stoic face, his legs swing back and forth with an unusual amount of meloncholy for a boy this close to a corpse.
Lenthium starts to dig a gravesite. "YOUR tradition, maybe, not his! Did you even think to ask one of us who knows him how he would like to be honoured? I will be burying him here for now, and send word to his parents, so that can treat him with the honour he deserves and earned in life. The same honour his family has shown to the dead for centuries." Sweating from the combination of the effort and the anger at these ignorant peasants, he struggles to delve deep enough. Not glancing at the young voice mentioning the roots and such, he responds "No, I'm burying him here in the sward where it's soft and warm. I wouldn't bury him next to a tree anyways, not bright enough."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?" "Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied ― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
Griffin watched the man, his face soft and still. As the sound of shovel hitting dirt continued he looked away. A sweel of anger and sadness distorting his face. ‘This is the decency my family was owed.’ He thought ‘a grave that was warm, and soft.’ Rage began overcoming reason, as it usually does. The raven, sensing this, hopped into Griffins line of sight and cocked it’s head, it didn’t speak but the boy understood.
Calming himself, or attempting to, the boy said “who... who did this to your friend. And how can we make them suffer.”
Dorian appears at the grave" I'm sorry you found our tradition tasteless Worf is a stickler for the old ways and tradition were not warriors just hunters we meant no disrespect he was trying to honour him and you here take this it might help" hands you three potions
Finally realizing the angle at which the young voice is coming from, Lenthium pauses, leaning on his shovel in front of the half-dug grave as he looks up at the figure in the tree. Grinning in spite of his grief at the sight he calls upwards "Bandits, apparently, although I'm not absolutely sure. My associates & I intend to deal with them, in short order. Suffering isn't my intention although others have different viewpoints. Getting rid of them so they no longer cause suffering is more to my goal. Whose boy are you that talks so blithely of making others suffer and anger rages so strongly on your face?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?" "Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied ― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
Griffens eye shoot open in surprise as he tries to think of how to answer that question. His face settles as the weight of the questions hits him, and he hops down from his branch. Looking up at the angel, and the quickly looking at the grave he replies. "I'm no ones boy." He gathers a pack from behind the tree, and grabs a fist sized chromatic orb. Looking back towards, but not at the angel he continues, "I apologize for disturbing your grieving with my anger. I would like to help you. My name is Griffin, and this is Crone." the Raven flutters down onto his shoulder with a loud CAW, seemingly upset that she had been forgotten, but contently picking at the feathers beneath her wing after being introduced.
Eyes narrowing as he observes this newcomer with his magical implement, and realizing that this is not truly a boy regardless of the form he wears, Lenthium responds "You did nothing to disturb my grief, caster. If anything, your own anger echos what I hold but directionless rage does no one good. Once I've actually found the true target for my anger then will I respond in kind and swiftly. Seeing as you are not as young as you appear, your interest in revenge and aiding us makes better sense, now. Griffin, Crone, I am Lenthium, humble priest of Lathandar, God of the morning. This was Roland, a long time friend and fellow prankster since my childhood. My friends here are Red, Ishtayu, Leomorne and a strange one who I believe calls himself 'Rod'."
Addressing Dorian, whom he turns on abruptly, he deliberately takes a deep breath, sending his ire and passion out to calm himself. "Dorian, I am sorry I erupted thusly. This was more than just a simple shock to find my friend dead and laying out in that fashion. You can pass my apology onto Worf, and thank you for your gift. What are they? Beyond that, after I finish here I am certain that we would ride to the scene that Worf tracked, and show these brutes a quick path to their deities." Going back to shoveling, he finishes digging, then lays Roland's cold body out into the ground. Unwilling to go back inside at the moment, he asks "Dorian, could you please get a bottle of some fine alcohol for me to bless his grave with? Something flammable. You can charge me whatever it costs."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?" "Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied ― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
Ishtayu steps outside to listen in on the conversation Lenthium carries with this strange newcomer, tilting his head slightly as he gazes over the boy and the bird.
"Nice to meet you as well," Ishtayu says with a nod. "I'll admit it's unexpected to have you join us so suddenly, I don't know many people who would wish to enact vengeance on behalf of someone they did not know, but I won't say the help isn't appreciated." After speaking, he looks over to Lenthium, watching the preparations for Roland's burial.
Lenthium takes the high-powered hooch and pours it over the freshly turned earth, now covering Roland's body. The mound of soil is carefully moistened by the alcohol, the droplets glistening in the late-morning sun. With a long prayer to Lathandar laying his friend's spirit to rest, he gestures and the soil lights, shimmering red flames forming a flat plane of fire. Continuing his prayers, the flames ripple through various colours, rising and falling, cascading brightly and forming vague images and shapes as Lenthium uses his magic to shape the fire into his memories of his dear friend. As the fuel burns out, he says one last phrase of blessing over the graveside and stands fully upright. "From death, life. Now! Let's go and remove these bandits from Faerun!"
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?" "Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied ― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
There were so many things for Rod. His eyes just wide open to see the Young and the Crow. "Hey, hey, who is speaking, the big black bird or him?...Mh? What?...Who... is....speaking?" The Drow slowly tilts the head looking at the newcomer and with something slightly more than a whisper says "BOTH" but then continues, this time louder "No wait I am not Both I am Rod yes, Rod, as just mentioned" He tries a clumsy bow and suddenly clears his throat "Mmm, ehm, nice to meet you too, Both, I mean you and your..."Wow.....you see that? We have four wings nearby now..that's so cool!"Your big blackbird, yes"
Rod witnesses to the ceremony with unusual silence, for him, the solemn rite keeps his mind focused and in a sense, dozed, the fire shapes, impress him and the blessings, the litany almost fuzzy his mind.
At the end, he wakes up from his numbness and adds "From Death to Life, and Death again!" referring to the bandits "That's what we mean to do no?" He sneers satisfied.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Crone cocks her head to the side as Rod introduces himself, then continue to straighten the feathers under her wing. The boy and the bird watch the ceremony with somber stillness. The flames dancing in their eyes.
Responding to Rod, the boy simply nods to himself, pulling his backpack over his shoulder.
Griffin walked up beside Red and peered at the map. He glanced at it to see if he recognized anything on it. 18 (History)
Upon seeing Roland's body, Ishtayu's cheerful demeanor fades for once, dropping to a cold expression. Though he hadn't spoken terribly much to this man, he was still a would-be companion of Ishtayu's. Picking up on the finer points of the wording, and quite familiar with what his own culture would do with a corpse laid out on a table in such a way, he maintains a calm composure while he speaks, "Odd indeed. When speaking of feasts, most human cultures don't lay out corpses upon a table - many would find it abhorrent, I would think." As he speaks he tries to judge just how genuine his host's words may be, suspicious of whether the tale of how they found the body is true or not.
Insight 13
Lenthium sputters and spits out the drink he was quaffing as Roland's body is revealed, standing with a loud scrape as the chair skitters across the floor. "Lathander's Trumpet! Why in the Heavens would you do THIS?" Shocked and disgusted by the sight, he steps up to his friend's corpse, resting a hand on the cold, still chest. "You outright primitives! Low born, godless, revolting heathens! How dare you treat him like a centerpiece in a gruesome feast!" Grabbing his friend, Lenthium pulls him off the table, throwing him over his shoulder and staggering out into the morning air. Muttering angrily to himself, he carefully lays his friend out under a tree near the stables, searching for a shovel.
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?"
"Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied
― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
“I will help Lanthium lay Roland’s body to rest.”
...and Red follows Lanthuim outside. On his way out, he uses perception to get a. Good look at what’s being served for breakfast.
Perception:13
Insight: very odd but seems to be a local custom the hunter celebration everything has a feel about it like a passing on right.
Perception: Blurry food shaped food. You might need to see an eye wizard
Worf stoically walks up" There was no disrespect intended we were honouring him" seems kind of angry you questioning tradition" here he hands you a map.
Red takes the map as he exits the lodge. He stops briefly at the doorway and turns to Worf..
“Forgive our outburst. He was a good friend and his loss is deeply felt. I’m sure you meant nothing less than the highest honor. Thank you.”
Rod
The Drow stares at the scene with detachment, he is not habited to anything really, apart from living with a creepy and maleficent hag, so living the dead Warrior on a table or not, for now, it seems to make no difference for him. Anyhow, he shrugs, he sees the anger of the Dwarf and the disdain of the Aazimar....he focus on them...trying to catch their expressions...tone....."Why they feel that?" "Are you talking to me?" "Me?...What? Nothing..."
While getting outside with the others he remains in silence, sometimes, he tries to mimes others facial expressions.
-Griffin-
A raven caws, interested in the living man laying a dead man at the bottom of his tree... “a gift perhaps? A Gift for me?”
The boy siting next to the bird runs his hands down it’s smooth feathers and says “as appropriate as ever” in a disapproving whisper.
”you won’t want to bury him here” the boy says turning his attention down at the party. “It’s a pretty spot, but the roots will make the grave shallow.” The boy looks down with a stoic face, his legs swing back and forth with an unusual amount of meloncholy for a boy this close to a corpse.
Lenthium starts to dig a gravesite. "YOUR tradition, maybe, not his! Did you even think to ask one of us who knows him how he would like to be honoured? I will be burying him here for now, and send word to his parents, so that can treat him with the honour he deserves and earned in life. The same honour his family has shown to the dead for centuries." Sweating from the combination of the effort and the anger at these ignorant peasants, he struggles to delve deep enough. Not glancing at the young voice mentioning the roots and such, he responds "No, I'm burying him here in the sward where it's soft and warm. I wouldn't bury him next to a tree anyways, not bright enough."
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?"
"Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied
― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
-Griffin-
Griffin watched the man, his face soft and still. As the sound of shovel hitting dirt continued he looked away. A sweel of anger and sadness distorting his face. ‘This is the decency my family was owed.’ He thought ‘a grave that was warm, and soft.’ Rage began overcoming reason, as it usually does. The raven, sensing this, hopped into Griffins line of sight and cocked it’s head, it didn’t speak but the boy understood.
Calming himself, or attempting to, the boy said “who... who did this to your friend. And how can we make them suffer.”
Dorian appears at the grave" I'm sorry you found our tradition tasteless Worf is a stickler for the old ways and tradition were not warriors just hunters we meant no disrespect he was trying to honour him and you here take this it might help" hands you three potions
Finally realizing the angle at which the young voice is coming from, Lenthium pauses, leaning on his shovel in front of the half-dug grave as he looks up at the figure in the tree. Grinning in spite of his grief at the sight he calls upwards "Bandits, apparently, although I'm not absolutely sure. My associates & I intend to deal with them, in short order. Suffering isn't my intention although others have different viewpoints. Getting rid of them so they no longer cause suffering is more to my goal. Whose boy are you that talks so blithely of making others suffer and anger rages so strongly on your face?"
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?"
"Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied
― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
-Griffin-
Griffens eye shoot open in surprise as he tries to think of how to answer that question. His face settles as the weight of the questions hits him, and he hops down from his branch. Looking up at the angel, and the quickly looking at the grave he replies. "I'm no ones boy." He gathers a pack from behind the tree, and grabs a fist sized chromatic orb. Looking back towards, but not at the angel he continues, "I apologize for disturbing your grieving with my anger. I would like to help you. My name is Griffin, and this is Crone." the Raven flutters down onto his shoulder with a loud CAW, seemingly upset that she had been forgotten, but contently picking at the feathers beneath her wing after being introduced.
Eyes narrowing as he observes this newcomer with his magical implement, and realizing that this is not truly a boy regardless of the form he wears, Lenthium responds "You did nothing to disturb my grief, caster. If anything, your own anger echos what I hold but directionless rage does no one good. Once I've actually found the true target for my anger then will I respond in kind and swiftly. Seeing as you are not as young as you appear, your interest in revenge and aiding us makes better sense, now. Griffin, Crone, I am Lenthium, humble priest of Lathandar, God of the morning. This was Roland, a long time friend and fellow prankster since my childhood. My friends here are Red, Ishtayu, Leomorne and a strange one who I believe calls himself 'Rod'."
Addressing Dorian, whom he turns on abruptly, he deliberately takes a deep breath, sending his ire and passion out to calm himself. "Dorian, I am sorry I erupted thusly. This was more than just a simple shock to find my friend dead and laying out in that fashion. You can pass my apology onto Worf, and thank you for your gift. What are they? Beyond that, after I finish here I am certain that we would ride to the scene that Worf tracked, and show these brutes a quick path to their deities." Going back to shoveling, he finishes digging, then lays Roland's cold body out into the ground. Unwilling to go back inside at the moment, he asks "Dorian, could you please get a bottle of some fine alcohol for me to bless his grave with? Something flammable. You can charge me whatever it costs."
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?"
"Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied
― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
Griffin quickly scans the eyes of the other party members then gazes back towards the ground.
CAW, CAW, CAW, CAW.
“Hmph” the boy smiles at an inside joke between him and Crone. He looks back towards the group. “Nice to meet you”
Ishtayu steps outside to listen in on the conversation Lenthium carries with this strange newcomer, tilting his head slightly as he gazes over the boy and the bird.
"Nice to meet you as well," Ishtayu says with a nod. "I'll admit it's unexpected to have you join us so suddenly, I don't know many people who would wish to enact vengeance on behalf of someone they did not know, but I won't say the help isn't appreciated." After speaking, he looks over to Lenthium, watching the preparations for Roland's burial.
Dorian aproches with a bottle covered " This is hooch Worf makes himself its so strong we usually don't expose it to light"
Lenthium takes the high-powered hooch and pours it over the freshly turned earth, now covering Roland's body. The mound of soil is carefully moistened by the alcohol, the droplets glistening in the late-morning sun. With a long prayer to Lathandar laying his friend's spirit to rest, he gestures and the soil lights, shimmering red flames forming a flat plane of fire. Continuing his prayers, the flames ripple through various colours, rising and falling, cascading brightly and forming vague images and shapes as Lenthium uses his magic to shape the fire into his memories of his dear friend. As the fuel burns out, he says one last phrase of blessing over the graveside and stands fully upright. "From death, life. Now! Let's go and remove these bandits from Faerun!"
“Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?"
"Sure, a wizard is what they call you when they want to hire you, and a witch is what they call you when they're getting ready to run you out of town.” SunWolf replied
― Barbara Hambly, The Witches of Wenshar
“Worf gave us this map. Perhaps it will help us pinpoint their location.”
Red opens and presents the map to the group.
History: 6
Rod
There were so many things for Rod. His eyes just wide open to see the Young and the Crow. "Hey, hey, who is speaking, the big black bird or him?...Mh? What?...Who... is....speaking?" The Drow slowly tilts the head looking at the newcomer and with something slightly more than a whisper says "BOTH" but then continues, this time louder "No wait I am not Both I am Rod yes, Rod, as just mentioned" He tries a clumsy bow and suddenly clears his throat "Mmm, ehm, nice to meet you too, Both, I mean you and your..." Wow.....you see that? We have four wings nearby now..that's so cool! "Your big blackbird, yes"
Rod witnesses to the ceremony with unusual silence, for him, the solemn rite keeps his mind focused and in a sense, dozed, the fire shapes, impress him and the blessings, the litany almost fuzzy his mind.
At the end, he wakes up from his numbness and adds "From Death to Life, and Death again!" referring to the bandits "That's what we mean to do no?" He sneers satisfied.
Crone cocks her head to the side as Rod introduces himself, then continue to straighten the feathers under her wing. The boy and the bird watch the ceremony with somber stillness. The flames dancing in their eyes.
Responding to Rod, the boy simply nods to himself, pulling his backpack over his shoulder.
Griffin walked up beside Red and peered at the map. He glanced at it to see if he recognized anything on it. 18 (History)