You enter the small, but still impressive audience chamber of Sir Tristan, the ruler of the small domain in a lonely stretch of mountains you find yourselves in. The room looks much the same as the last time you were here, though more crowded. The circumstances of your last visit — following the short but still involved rescue of Sir Tristan's favorite concubine — has enamored you to him. His wife ... maybe not so much. You still suspect she may have been behind the plot. Alas, no evidence ever presented itself, and so you've washed your hands of the whole ordeal.
It's been not quite a year since you and your cousin relocated here. Even thought it's only been a short time, neither of you can really say for sure why you left your comfortable lives in the southern corner of west Faerûn. Perhaps it was the heat. Perhaps it was boredom. Perhaps it was to chase a skirt. But here you are: two singles working as a pair and already making a name for yourselves.
Sir Tristan is not an old man by the look of it — though, his pointed ears betray his mixed heritage, so he may be older than you know. The weight of the throne adds wrinkles and gray hair to the leaders of even the most peaceful of nations. His fine features, reassuring confidence, and evident style give him an air of refinement and beauty. It's no wonder he has so many lovers.
The monarch smiles as you approach his grand chair, your bootheels clicking against the tile floor. He sits on the throne broadly, his arms spread wide lazily across the arms almost as if he is waiting to embrace you. Rings sparkle on his fingers. He lifts one hand and waves it in a "come closer" gesture unnecessarily, but it still serves to make you feel welcome. You can't help but remember back to how elated he was when you returned the beautiful Yolanda to her home. All's the better, she was unharmed. He took a chance on you — two outsiders. "The tiefling cousins" as you've begun to be known as. But his bet paid off. Sir Tristan has proven himself to be a kind ruler to his people, and now a good friend to you both. You feel you can really trust him.
"My friends," he says, standing once you are only 10 feet away. He steps down off the dais and approaches, stopping five feet away. "Do not let my joy at seeing you detract from the seriousness of the matter. I'm so happy you have answered my call. I am in need of your help once again." The monarch pauses to turn and glance at four others in the room. There are two individuals you remember seeing at Sir Tristan's side in most circumstances. You assume they are royal advisors. But aside from the guard by the doors you entered through and the two flanking the dais, there are two more guards standing by the advisors. Both of these guards are bandaged and appear to have recently been involved in some kind of battle.
Sir Tristan turns back to you, his face much more grave. "I need you to hunt down and slay a most disruptive creature. A thessalhydra has been attacking some of our farms and villages. I'm sure you've heard the rumors." You have, and your face confirms it. "What you may not have heard is that it has even attacked my home." He raises his arms to indicate the modest castle around you. "We were lucky, and not many lives were lost, but it is time for this threat to end. All of my soldiers together could barely fight it off, but you ..." He smiles once again, and indicates the pair of you with his outstretched arms. "You bested the trolls that kidnapped Yolanda. You ... the tiefling cousins. I know you can track down and vanquish the thessalhydra." He looks deeply into your eyes. "Tell me you will do this for me and my good people."
Evy smiles at him a bit ferally. "My Lord, we will do this for the fun of it! And, for your good people, who have made us welcome in your lands." She curtsies prettily, and the smiles she rises with is a bit more demure. "What, if I may ask, is a thessalhydra? We don't have them in the south."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Val smiles widely once Evy mentions they will do as asked for the pure fun of it all. He couldn't agree more with his cousin's statement, and she knew it too. He is not one to simply agree to things silently, however: "Indeed we will. This beast, whatever it may be, will be a good test for my newest weapon. This beautiful maul wrought by your artisans, my lord, will help bring down this foul being!"
The weapon has yet to see any combat, but in Val's hands and under Evy's direction, it wouldn't be long before it swung at a skull or two. "Do you, my lord, or perhaps one of your wise advisors, know where this monstrosity may hide?"
Sir Tristan gives Val an appraising look before turning to step back up onto the dais. "I appreciate your exuberance, but I would never ask you to work for me for free." He sits down in his large chair, resting his forearms in a wide arc once again. He glances over at the four individuals — the advisors, who have been watching their liege with an impressive intensity, and the two bandaged guards — and the advisors at last tear their eyes away from Sir Tristan to look upon Evy and Val.
"The kingdom is prepared to pay you a handsome sum of 100 gold pieces in exchange for the severed heads of the thessalhydra," the one on the left says directly. Though the two advisors are dressed almost exactly alike in red and black robes with the royal crest stitched expertly on the chest — and shaved bald — this one is distinctly feminine.
The other — looking more masculine — pipes up as if telepathically linked to the first. "The thessalhydra is a four-legged beast similar to a wingless dragon, but with eight heads surrounding a large, circular mouth rimmed with jagged teeth."
"I want to stuff and mount the heads over my throne," Sir Tristan adds, waving one arm in a vague motion indicating the wall around and above the great chair. He sits forward slowly, steepling his fingers and addressing the cousins in almost a whisper. "They'll be a reminder to everyone that no one — not even a great beast — attacks my kingdom and gets away with it." He raises his eyebrows at Evy, and that, paired with the half grin on his lips, is supposed to relay power, confidence and charm. He sits back once again.
The feminine advisor continues, "From what we have gathered, the thessalhydra disappears into the western wood after each attack."
"Unfortunately," the masculine advisor picks up, "none of the guards were able to track the creature after its attack on the castle."
"We were a little busy keeping those of us who had been badly injured alive," one of the guards quickly responds spitefully. The other makes a noise of consent.
Neither advisor responds verbally, nor does the interruption appear to affect them in the least. They continue to look at you.
"Building upon that information," the feminine one continues evenly, "we would rely on you to discover the creature's lair."
"Find it," Sir Tristan says, "kill it, and bring back its heads. The farms are safe. My people are safe. And you are 100 gold pieces richer. Anymore questions? Don't be shy."
Val looks suspiciously at the advisors. He is not sure what is going on between them and is not sure he wants to know. Maybe they are twins. He listens to the story collectively told to them by seemingly everyone else in the chamber and nods at certain points. The nods supposedly represent that some of the questions being formed in the tiefling's mind were preemptively answered, though Val can't tell if anyone is catching his meaning. Were they reading his mind?
"Hrmm..." he clears his throat. "My lord, did you say you wanted to mount all of the beast's eight heads on your wall? If so, this may require a larger logistical endeavor than just the two of us." He turns to face one of the advisors, unsure now which one said what. "The size of a dragon, you said? Are all eight heads equally sized? Are they each the size of a dragon's cranium? If so, again, we may need carts upon carts, at a minimum. Beasts of burden to spare, should one of the heads be filling a little hungry. Tool and workers to maintain and drive the carts; food and feed to keep everyone on their feet. Tents and packs depending on how far we are traveling into the woods... You name it."
Val pauses there for now, waiting to see the court's reaction to his logistics talk.
"Similar to a wingless dragon's body," the masculine advisor says.
"The heads are smaller than a dragon's would be as the thessalhydra's body is supporting eight instead of only one," the feminine advisor continues.
"Far smaller," the masculine adds.
"It is still a lot of heads," Sir Tristan admits. He taps his lower lip in thought. "We'll send you with two bags of holding. That should give you ample storage for all eight." He looks at his advisors, and they both nod.
"Ample," the feminine advisor agrees.
"As for livestock and carts," Sir Tristan says, looking dubious. "I'm not sure how much time you've spent in the western wood, but it's no place for livestock, and definitely not conducive to cart wheels."
"That monster's hold up nearby, no doubt," one of the guards offers. "Less than a day in any direction and you hit mountains. Why come here to snack on farmers and risk being run through with something pointy unless you're already inside?"
Sir Tristan looks at the guard in consideration. "His logic is sound," the royal admits.
"Do you think the creature is intelligent enough to calculate its odds of being poked by a spear?" Val asks while trying to meet the gaze of the guard who spoke up. "Or would you guess that it simply attacks whatever is closest, on instinct?"
Thinking a bit more about his own questions and looking at all in the room in turn, Val adds: "Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to spend some time talking to some of the warriors who engaged this creature in combat."
"That's why we're here," the guard who's been speaking up replies. "Ask anything you want. And as for intelligence ... " He looks at the other bandaged guard, who doesn't verbally respond, but makes a few facial expressions and then shrugs. "I'd say it has enough intelligence to not be living purely by instinct. Its attack was not what you might call 'calculated', but there appeared to be some planning. It may have been a coincidence, but it attacked a part of the castle that was poorly guarded at that time of night. If it had only attacked once or twice, we could think it was just passing through. But it's attacked at least seven times that we know of. That means it's somewhere and deciding to come back."
"And it doesn't want to get caught," the other guard adds.
"Intelligent enough to plan and continuously attacks the castle." Val thinks out loud. "Perhaps it seeks something within these walls."The tiefling lets that thought linger for a while to see if it earns any reactions.
Then, turning back to the talkative guard, he requests: "Tell me more of the manner with which the beast fights. Does it rely mainly on fangs and claws? Does it shoot fire from its many mouths, as dragons do? Poison perhaps? Magic? Tell me what you have seen."
"It's only attacked the castle once," the guard corrects Val. "Last night. As for fighting, it has lots of teeth. It seemed to either lunge forward and attack with the big mouth, or all the heads would attack at the same time together. The heads moved independently, but seemed to act as one. Like a group of snakes all attacking the same target at the same time. It also has a pincer on the end of its tail that grabbed Jerome and lifted him off the ground."
"Acid," the quieter guard says.
"Oh, yeah, its saliva acts like acid," the talkative guard continues. "Any bites the small heads made poisoned us, and any the big mouth made burned into armor and weapons. It could also spit acid." He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head a little as if reliving the bad experience.
"Aside from the most recent attack on the castle," the feminine advisor replies, "the thessalhydra has only attacked farms and one of the smaller villages to the south."
"In three of the attacks," the masculine advisor continues, "there were witnesses who were able to describe the beast."
"Four if you include ours," the talkative guard finishes.
Evy shakes her head and blinks, like she's coming out of a trance. She was staring at the female advisor. "Sorry, what? South, in the woods, eight snakes heads, one giant mouth rimmed with teeth, acid barb on the tail, acid bite, acid spit. Did I get it all? I was just... so shiny," she finishes, eyes again on the woman's dome. "Ahem, yes, we've got this. Right, Val?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Val taps his cousin's left shoulder blade a bit too forcibly, shoving her an inch or two forward. He laughs and confirms: "Yes, we most certainly have."
Partially because he wants to avoid the gaze of the advisors, Val turns to face the witness guard again: "Any underlings to speaks of? Does this Thessalhydra roam with a pack of lizards by its side or anything? I am trying to figure out whether we are in the hunt for one monster or several. Also, where are these other witnesses now? In their village, perhaps?"
Evy turns back to Sir Tristan. “Will we have your blessing to commandeer what we need, supplies or assistance? And a seal, or a writ, or something, to prove it? We don’t know exactly what we’re facing, so we don’t know exactly what we’ll need.”
The feminine advisor appears to either not notice or not care that Evy is transfixed by her hairless head.
The guard shakes his head to Val's question. "None that we've seen or heard of," he replies. "Could be something we're unaware of, I suppose. As for witnesses, I can't help you there." He looks at the other guard and then even at the advisors, who ignore him soundly. Looking back at Val, he continues, "You'd have to ask around."
Sir Tristan blinks at being addressed again. Did he get bored and start daydreaming? "Supplies and assistance?" he asks. He frowns. "I thought you were already well prepared." He looks at his advisors and then slowly back toward Evy and Val with a growing smile. "I've got something better for you than a promise. Fetch the chest!" he says.
The two advisors immediately move toward a smaller door at the back of the room, pass through, and then return carrying a relatively chest between them. Neither looks as though they are straining, and you wonder why the both went. The place the chest before Sir Tristan, but he motions toward you to open it. You step forward and lift the lid. Within are the two bags of holding promised earlier, two rings of protection (one for each of you), a potion of healing, and two weapons — a wand and greatsword made of an unknown black metal.
Evy instinctively lifts the wand while Val lifts the sword.
Val looks at the guard and then at Sir Tristan, who speaks up: "Something enchanted for this very task. Finished only an hour ago. While a good sword against most, it will be especially harmful against the thessalhydra." The monarch extends his hands in a giving gesture. "These are yours. Use them for this task, and you may keep them when you are successful." One of the advisors clears their throat, and Sir Tristan quickly says, "Except for the bags of holding. Those will come back to me with the heads."
“Oh, well, it’s no goat cart!” Evy laughs. “These are very generous, thank you.” She pockets the wand, slips her ring on, and offers the potion to Val.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
"Well, well... And I was excited about my new maul. I guess that must have sounded quite silly to you, my Lord, knowing that this blade would be brought to the occasion." He laughs at himself. "Thank you, Sir Tristan."
Val follows his cousin's gesture and slips his magical ring on, though he doesn't quite feel any different just yet. He sheaths the new blade and adds it to his belt. He also claims one of the magical bags of head holding, silently assuming Evy will take the second one. When his cousin offers him the potion, he gently pushes it back toward her: "Should you go down, cousin, I can bring up back up in a pinch. We cannot say the reverse is true. You should keep the vial."
Although he does not liking doing so, Val looks at the advisors: "That chest looked mighty heavy, but I noticed you did not break a sweat. You must carry a lot more muscle than your vestments show, and I like to commend a good warrior or two when I see them. What are your weapons of choice. wise advisors?"
The advisors are silent for quite a few seconds, their eyes almost unblinking as they gaze at the male tiefling. The silence is awkward, and Val begins to assume they aren't going to answer him. Finally, the masculine advisor offers, "Should I ever need to engage in physical combat, I am trained in the art of the rapier."
"The dagger," the feminine advisor exclaims abruptly.
Everyone in the room (except for the masculine advisor) turns their eyes on the feminine advisor curiously, who continues to stare at Val apathetically.
Sir Tristan furrows his brow before looking back at the cousins. "Anything else you'd like to know?"
Evy is now intrigued, tilting her head and looking at the advisors. But she shakes her head. A mystery for another time, perhaps. "No, I think we're set."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he). Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
You enter the small, but still impressive audience chamber of Sir Tristan, the ruler of the small domain in a lonely stretch of mountains you find yourselves in. The room looks much the same as the last time you were here, though more crowded. The circumstances of your last visit — following the short but still involved rescue of Sir Tristan's favorite concubine — has enamored you to him. His wife ... maybe not so much. You still suspect she may have been behind the plot. Alas, no evidence ever presented itself, and so you've washed your hands of the whole ordeal.
It's been not quite a year since you and your cousin relocated here. Even thought it's only been a short time, neither of you can really say for sure why you left your comfortable lives in the southern corner of west Faerûn. Perhaps it was the heat. Perhaps it was boredom. Perhaps it was to chase a skirt. But here you are: two singles working as a pair and already making a name for yourselves.
Sir Tristan is not an old man by the look of it — though, his pointed ears betray his mixed heritage, so he may be older than you know. The weight of the throne adds wrinkles and gray hair to the leaders of even the most peaceful of nations. His fine features, reassuring confidence, and evident style give him an air of refinement and beauty. It's no wonder he has so many lovers.
The monarch smiles as you approach his grand chair, your bootheels clicking against the tile floor. He sits on the throne broadly, his arms spread wide lazily across the arms almost as if he is waiting to embrace you. Rings sparkle on his fingers. He lifts one hand and waves it in a "come closer" gesture unnecessarily, but it still serves to make you feel welcome. You can't help but remember back to how elated he was when you returned the beautiful Yolanda to her home. All's the better, she was unharmed. He took a chance on you — two outsiders. "The tiefling cousins" as you've begun to be known as. But his bet paid off. Sir Tristan has proven himself to be a kind ruler to his people, and now a good friend to you both. You feel you can really trust him.
"My friends," he says, standing once you are only 10 feet away. He steps down off the dais and approaches, stopping five feet away. "Do not let my joy at seeing you detract from the seriousness of the matter. I'm so happy you have answered my call. I am in need of your help once again." The monarch pauses to turn and glance at four others in the room. There are two individuals you remember seeing at Sir Tristan's side in most circumstances. You assume they are royal advisors. But aside from the guard by the doors you entered through and the two flanking the dais, there are two more guards standing by the advisors. Both of these guards are bandaged and appear to have recently been involved in some kind of battle.
Sir Tristan turns back to you, his face much more grave. "I need you to hunt down and slay a most disruptive creature. A thessalhydra has been attacking some of our farms and villages. I'm sure you've heard the rumors." You have, and your face confirms it. "What you may not have heard is that it has even attacked my home." He raises his arms to indicate the modest castle around you. "We were lucky, and not many lives were lost, but it is time for this threat to end. All of my soldiers together could barely fight it off, but you ..." He smiles once again, and indicates the pair of you with his outstretched arms. "You bested the trolls that kidnapped Yolanda. You ... the tiefling cousins. I know you can track down and vanquish the thessalhydra." He looks deeply into your eyes. "Tell me you will do this for me and my good people."
Evy smiles at him a bit ferally. "My Lord, we will do this for the fun of it! And, for your good people, who have made us welcome in your lands." She curtsies prettily, and the smiles she rises with is a bit more demure. "What, if I may ask, is a thessalhydra? We don't have them in the south."
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
Val smiles widely once Evy mentions they will do as asked for the pure fun of it all. He couldn't agree more with his cousin's statement, and she knew it too. He is not one to simply agree to things silently, however: "Indeed we will. This beast, whatever it may be, will be a good test for my newest weapon. This beautiful maul wrought by your artisans, my lord, will help bring down this foul being!"
The weapon has yet to see any combat, but in Val's hands and under Evy's direction, it wouldn't be long before it swung at a skull or two. "Do you, my lord, or perhaps one of your wise advisors, know where this monstrosity may hide?"
Sir Tristan gives Val an appraising look before turning to step back up onto the dais. "I appreciate your exuberance, but I would never ask you to work for me for free." He sits down in his large chair, resting his forearms in a wide arc once again. He glances over at the four individuals — the advisors, who have been watching their liege with an impressive intensity, and the two bandaged guards — and the advisors at last tear their eyes away from Sir Tristan to look upon Evy and Val.
"The kingdom is prepared to pay you a handsome sum of 100 gold pieces in exchange for the severed heads of the thessalhydra," the one on the left says directly. Though the two advisors are dressed almost exactly alike in red and black robes with the royal crest stitched expertly on the chest — and shaved bald — this one is distinctly feminine.
The other — looking more masculine — pipes up as if telepathically linked to the first. "The thessalhydra is a four-legged beast similar to a wingless dragon, but with eight heads surrounding a large, circular mouth rimmed with jagged teeth."
"I want to stuff and mount the heads over my throne," Sir Tristan adds, waving one arm in a vague motion indicating the wall around and above the great chair. He sits forward slowly, steepling his fingers and addressing the cousins in almost a whisper. "They'll be a reminder to everyone that no one — not even a great beast — attacks my kingdom and gets away with it." He raises his eyebrows at Evy, and that, paired with the half grin on his lips, is supposed to relay power, confidence and charm. He sits back once again.
The feminine advisor continues, "From what we have gathered, the thessalhydra disappears into the western wood after each attack."
"Unfortunately," the masculine advisor picks up, "none of the guards were able to track the creature after its attack on the castle."
"We were a little busy keeping those of us who had been badly injured alive," one of the guards quickly responds spitefully. The other makes a noise of consent.
Neither advisor responds verbally, nor does the interruption appear to affect them in the least. They continue to look at you.
"Building upon that information," the feminine one continues evenly, "we would rely on you to discover the creature's lair."
"Find it," Sir Tristan says, "kill it, and bring back its heads. The farms are safe. My people are safe. And you are 100 gold pieces richer. Anymore questions? Don't be shy."
Val looks suspiciously at the advisors. He is not sure what is going on between them and is not sure he wants to know. Maybe they are twins. He listens to the story collectively told to them by seemingly everyone else in the chamber and nods at certain points. The nods supposedly represent that some of the questions being formed in the tiefling's mind were preemptively answered, though Val can't tell if anyone is catching his meaning. Were they reading his mind?
"Hrmm..." he clears his throat. "My lord, did you say you wanted to mount all of the beast's eight heads on your wall? If so, this may require a larger logistical endeavor than just the two of us." He turns to face one of the advisors, unsure now which one said what. "The size of a dragon, you said? Are all eight heads equally sized? Are they each the size of a dragon's cranium? If so, again, we may need carts upon carts, at a minimum. Beasts of burden to spare, should one of the heads be filling a little hungry. Tool and workers to maintain and drive the carts; food and feed to keep everyone on their feet. Tents and packs depending on how far we are traveling into the woods... You name it."
Val pauses there for now, waiting to see the court's reaction to his logistics talk.
"Similar to a wingless dragon's body," the masculine advisor says.
"The heads are smaller than a dragon's would be as the thessalhydra's body is supporting eight instead of only one," the feminine advisor continues.
"Far smaller," the masculine adds.
"It is still a lot of heads," Sir Tristan admits. He taps his lower lip in thought. "We'll send you with two bags of holding. That should give you ample storage for all eight." He looks at his advisors, and they both nod.
"Ample," the feminine advisor agrees.
"As for livestock and carts," Sir Tristan says, looking dubious. "I'm not sure how much time you've spent in the western wood, but it's no place for livestock, and definitely not conducive to cart wheels."
"That monster's hold up nearby, no doubt," one of the guards offers. "Less than a day in any direction and you hit mountains. Why come here to snack on farmers and risk being run through with something pointy unless you're already inside?"
Sir Tristan looks at the guard in consideration. "His logic is sound," the royal admits.
"Do you think the creature is intelligent enough to calculate its odds of being poked by a spear?" Val asks while trying to meet the gaze of the guard who spoke up. "Or would you guess that it simply attacks whatever is closest, on instinct?"
Thinking a bit more about his own questions and looking at all in the room in turn, Val adds: "Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to spend some time talking to some of the warriors who engaged this creature in combat."
"That's why we're here," the guard who's been speaking up replies. "Ask anything you want. And as for intelligence ... " He looks at the other bandaged guard, who doesn't verbally respond, but makes a few facial expressions and then shrugs. "I'd say it has enough intelligence to not be living purely by instinct. Its attack was not what you might call 'calculated', but there appeared to be some planning. It may have been a coincidence, but it attacked a part of the castle that was poorly guarded at that time of night. If it had only attacked once or twice, we could think it was just passing through. But it's attacked at least seven times that we know of. That means it's somewhere and deciding to come back."
"And it doesn't want to get caught," the other guard adds.
"Intelligent enough to plan and continuously attacks the castle." Val thinks out loud. "Perhaps it seeks something within these walls." The tiefling lets that thought linger for a while to see if it earns any reactions.
Then, turning back to the talkative guard, he requests: "Tell me more of the manner with which the beast fights. Does it rely mainly on fangs and claws? Does it shoot fire from its many mouths, as dragons do? Poison perhaps? Magic? Tell me what you have seen."
"It's only attacked the castle once," the guard corrects Val. "Last night. As for fighting, it has lots of teeth. It seemed to either lunge forward and attack with the big mouth, or all the heads would attack at the same time together. The heads moved independently, but seemed to act as one. Like a group of snakes all attacking the same target at the same time. It also has a pincer on the end of its tail that grabbed Jerome and lifted him off the ground."
"Acid," the quieter guard says.
"Oh, yeah, its saliva acts like acid," the talkative guard continues. "Any bites the small heads made poisoned us, and any the big mouth made burned into armor and weapons. It could also spit acid." He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head a little as if reliving the bad experience.
"I misunderstood it then." Val raises a hand apologetically. "Where were the other six attacks then, if not at the castle?"
"Maw, coordinated attacks, pincer tail, acid spit, and snake venom." Val shakes his head. "Quite the hunt we have in our hands, cousin."
"Aside from the most recent attack on the castle," the feminine advisor replies, "the thessalhydra has only attacked farms and one of the smaller villages to the south."
"In three of the attacks," the masculine advisor continues, "there were witnesses who were able to describe the beast."
"Four if you include ours," the talkative guard finishes.
Evy shakes her head and blinks, like she's coming out of a trance. She was staring at the female advisor. "Sorry, what? South, in the woods, eight snakes heads, one giant mouth rimmed with teeth, acid barb on the tail, acid bite, acid spit. Did I get it all? I was just... so shiny," she finishes, eyes again on the woman's dome. "Ahem, yes, we've got this. Right, Val?"
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
Val taps his cousin's left shoulder blade a bit too forcibly, shoving her an inch or two forward. He laughs and confirms: "Yes, we most certainly have."
Partially because he wants to avoid the gaze of the advisors, Val turns to face the witness guard again: "Any underlings to speaks of? Does this Thessalhydra roam with a pack of lizards by its side or anything? I am trying to figure out whether we are in the hunt for one monster or several. Also, where are these other witnesses now? In their village, perhaps?"
Evy turns back to Sir Tristan. “Will we have your blessing to commandeer what we need, supplies or assistance? And a seal, or a writ, or something, to prove it? We don’t know exactly what we’re facing, so we don’t know exactly what we’ll need.”
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
The feminine advisor appears to either not notice or not care that Evy is transfixed by her hairless head.
The guard shakes his head to Val's question. "None that we've seen or heard of," he replies. "Could be something we're unaware of, I suppose. As for witnesses, I can't help you there." He looks at the other guard and then even at the advisors, who ignore him soundly. Looking back at Val, he continues, "You'd have to ask around."
Sir Tristan blinks at being addressed again. Did he get bored and start daydreaming? "Supplies and assistance?" he asks. He frowns. "I thought you were already well prepared." He looks at his advisors and then slowly back toward Evy and Val with a growing smile. "I've got something better for you than a promise. Fetch the chest!" he says.
The two advisors immediately move toward a smaller door at the back of the room, pass through, and then return carrying a relatively chest between them. Neither looks as though they are straining, and you wonder why the both went. The place the chest before Sir Tristan, but he motions toward you to open it. You step forward and lift the lid. Within are the two bags of holding promised earlier, two rings of protection (one for each of you), a potion of healing, and two weapons — a wand and greatsword made of an unknown black metal.
Evy instinctively lifts the wand while Val lifts the sword.
"A wand of magic missiles," the feminine advisor states.
"And Winter's Dark Bite," the masculine advisor adds.
"That's pretty," the guard observes.
Val looks at the guard and then at Sir Tristan, who speaks up: "Something enchanted for this very task. Finished only an hour ago. While a good sword against most, it will be especially harmful against the thessalhydra." The monarch extends his hands in a giving gesture. "These are yours. Use them for this task, and you may keep them when you are successful." One of the advisors clears their throat, and Sir Tristan quickly says, "Except for the bags of holding. Those will come back to me with the heads."
“Oh, well, it’s no goat cart!” Evy laughs. “These are very generous, thank you.” She pockets the wand, slips her ring on, and offers the potion to Val.
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
"Well, well... And I was excited about my new maul. I guess that must have sounded quite silly to you, my Lord, knowing that this blade would be brought to the occasion." He laughs at himself. "Thank you, Sir Tristan."
Val follows his cousin's gesture and slips his magical ring on, though he doesn't quite feel any different just yet. He sheaths the new blade and adds it to his belt. He also claims one of the magical bags of head holding, silently assuming Evy will take the second one. When his cousin offers him the potion, he gently pushes it back toward her: "Should you go down, cousin, I can bring up back up in a pinch. We cannot say the reverse is true. You should keep the vial."
Although he does not liking doing so, Val looks at the advisors: "That chest looked mighty heavy, but I noticed you did not break a sweat. You must carry a lot more muscle than your vestments show, and I like to commend a good warrior or two when I see them. What are your weapons of choice. wise advisors?"
The advisors are silent for quite a few seconds, their eyes almost unblinking as they gaze at the male tiefling. The silence is awkward, and Val begins to assume they aren't going to answer him. Finally, the masculine advisor offers, "Should I ever need to engage in physical combat, I am trained in the art of the rapier."
"The dagger," the feminine advisor exclaims abruptly.
Everyone in the room (except for the masculine advisor) turns their eyes on the feminine advisor curiously, who continues to stare at Val apathetically.
Sir Tristan furrows his brow before looking back at the cousins. "Anything else you'd like to know?"
Evy is now intrigued, tilting her head and looking at the advisors. But she shakes her head. A mystery for another time, perhaps. "No, I think we're set."
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me