Brymys looks away and does his best to blend into the background. He looks back after hearing Seamus speak and waits to hear about what kind of creature waits for them.
Rembrandt regains his composure, "She is Mirakenava (in Draconic) or Mira (in Common). She is the daughter of the late Dragon Lord. She is not much older than a wyrmling and still very much a child. I've forgotten that she is currently in hibernation after overextending her power in the war. Mira has been asleep for the past six decades and will likely sleep for another century or two. She should be resting in the sleeping chamber before you enter the treasury. Do NOT disturb her rest." "She is not yet accustomed to meeting smaller and unfamiliar folk. Awakening her would not be good for yourselves or me." He says with a grimace.
To Seamus's question, Rembrandt's expression change from frustration to sorrow. He turns his gaze to the red feather and places a gentle hand on the glass as he speaks. "For us, long-lived races, time seems to flow much too quickly. I've lost many friends, family, and loves in the chaos of war. I have felt powerless as watched the Balor Generalrip the heart from the Skylord."Rembrandt rises from his seat and says, "I'm not ready to lose another I care for.".
Rembrandt moves toward the door and beckons the party to walk with him. Strolling the hallways lined with guards he states, "There has been an assassination attempt on my wife's life.", with enough protective wrath to send shivers down your spines.
"She was in the audience with the king at the time, when a group ofcambionassassins attacked. The royal guards fought bravely, but could not stop all of them. She survived when King Ruslan put himself before the poisoned blade meant for her."
Rembrandt turns down a hallway to the castle armory. "We can cure the deadliest of poisons. However, this poison was also a curse. It was made from the bone marrow of abalorwhich attacks not only the body but corrupts the soul. There is no remedy that mortals can make for it."
He opens the door to reveal rows and rows of armor and weapons used by the guards and soldiers. "Feel free to make any upgrades to your equipment that you need."
(DM Note - The armory has all armor and weapon types, but there are no magic items. All armor has an emblem of the Lahelmder Kingdom.)
(Lore - High King Ruslan is one of the most powerful mortals on Avadorein. Some say he was offered godhood, only to turn it down; others say he is an immortal demigod on the path of godhood. He has slain many of the Balor Generals with his legendary greatsword and crossed blades with The Ruler of Demons, Irae.
Lore - High Priestess Odassa - (High Elf, Female) Worshiper and faith leader of Chauntea, Goddess Of Fertility and Prosperity. Wife to Magistrate Rembrandt. It's common knowledge that she is known as a matchmaker and midwife.)
"You have my empathy. We will begin our journey soon." Once the Magistrate opens the armory, Brymys takes a Rapier. "Do you know how much time we have to attain the elixir?"
"You have my sympathies as well, Lord Magistrate," Mugun says. "And for the king and his family. We will not fail you in this."
Mugun begins the work of looking for a suit of plate armor for himself. It is somewhat of a challenge to find a set that properly fits his sizable frame, and once he finds a set it's a challenge to put it on without the help of a squire. He keeps his own sword, shield, and tabard bearing the colors of the house of Fonelle, though he does take a broach bearing the sigil of the king with which to pin his cloak.
“Why does it have to be a ******* dragon of all things?”Garron mutters to himself and shakes his head in frustration. Of course, it would foolish to believe a contract could come across the guild’s desk for a amount of gold such as this and actually be a walk in the park. Oh well. If journeying into the unknown and facing down actual nightmares was easy then everyone would do it.
As Rembrandt explained the situation with his wife and the king Garron did his best not to fidget at the memories of the past clouding his focus. “A impressive poison if it took down King Ruslan, of all people..” The assassin gave a low whistle as the magistrate led them into the armory. “If the way you described the poison is anything to go by, I’m assuming this is a time-sensitive expedition?”Garron asked over his shoulder while thumbing the point of a razor sharp dagger he picked up for it’s place on the rack.
Inge wishes she had a magic glaive if demons are going to be involved. At least she thinks that's what a Balor is. A demon and a particularly powerful and nasty one if she remembers the whisperings of the elders correctly, though she can't quite recall the details.
Not seeing any magic weapons, instead she takes some extra javelins and quivers of arrows for her longbow from the armory. She also takes a crowbar, a grappling hook, some climbing pitons and 2 extra coils of hempen rope.
Of course maybe it will be a dragon, not a demon... but we're not supposed to disturb the dragon... Inge scrunches up her brow again, gears almost visibly grinding inside her head.
In the end, she simply says "We will do what must be done."
When Eilynn learns of Mirakenava, she remains silent, but her smug smile fades. She had developed an interest in dragons and their culture during her years of training with her mentor, devoting years of free time to become proficient in Draconic. Regardless, the last thing the cleric wanted was a confrontation with an enraged adolescent dragon, let alone the daughter of a renown lord.
She spends a few minutes pacing up and down the racks of weapons, running her hands along wood and steel before settling on an elegant crossbow and short sword. Nearby observers may notice her slipping a wicked silver blade into a sheath strapped to her thigh, before it is hidden by her long skirts.
"At most, we can hold back the curse is-.", suddenly Rembrandt's speech is muted. He turns to see a stout, bald, and barefoot halfing wearing a sleeveless dirty white shirt and dark brown work-pants approaching. "Why hello there, Magistrate! Ye have summons for me?", says the halfing.
"Yes, Korbin, I've authorized access to adventures to use the relic vault.",Rembrandt says, "Oh, pardon my manners. Everyone this is Korbin Dhallas, quartermaster for the royal army. Korbin, these are the adventures from the guild."
Korbin takes a moment to size up the group. "Hrmm, are your sure about this? They look a bit too big and too tall.", he let out a laugh, "Just kidding each of ya! Hoy, greenie you missed a strap!" He helps tighten the armor straps on Sir Mugun's full-plate. "There! Don't expect to be keeping that armor unless you plan on buying it.", he turns to the rest of the group, "That goes for the rest of ya! Any gear you get from my armory is on loan. So, ya break it or forget to turn it back in, ya buy it!".
Korbin turns to Rembrandt, "Relics, huh? Don't have many of those left. But I'll see what I can do." He begins to rummage through his pockets to find... something?
Mugun's eyes open wide in shock at Korbin's address of Greeny. Even here, in the house of the king,he thinks.
He feels a flare up of rage that he has shamefully learned to associate with orcishness from a lifetime of training in court manners. With a deft application of those same manners, he suppresses it. Instead of giving into his first instinct, which is to punt this little man out the nearest window, he instead turns to Korbin, crouches down to eye level with him and says with a tone dripping with civility, "You have my thanks for the use of your fine armor, Quartermaster Dhallas. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Sir Mugun Bahbalen of House Fonelle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Garron busies himself with a set of new leather armor as the halfling makes his introduction and doesn’t really give the little man much attention. Equipment’s on loan, eh? The assassin would be quiet pleased with himself returning the equipment because that meant for reason the gods saw it fit to allow survival. Not to mention the fact that he’d be rich.
It was impossible to stifle the loud snort of laughter that erupted from Garron’s throat at Korbin’s nickname for Mugun. “Not liking the nickname, Mugun?” He asks mischievously as he walks over and elbows his orc companion in the ribs.
Without taking his eyes off of Korbin, continuing to smile congenially, Mugun answers Garron. "I haven't made up my mind yet. It certainly is descriptive, though far from comprehensive. But that's simply because the quartermaster and I have not yet had a chance to get to know one another. You know me FAR better than Quartermaster Dhallas, Garron. Do you think the name suits me?"
“Greenie? Oh no, no. Mugun, you know well that my favorite nicknames for you change on a daily basis.”The assassin taps his chin sarcastically. “Bastard, Sir Dimwit, sword brother.. The list goes on.”Garron steers Mugun away from the quartermaster and pats his orc companion on his chest plate playfully. “Perhaps we bite the halfling’s head off after we get filthy rich, yeah?”
Mugun replies with a laugh, "I rather liked Sir Dimwit! It was appropriate to my station."
He stands back up to his rather impressive full height, rolling his shoulders, and turns to Garron, continuing "Master Dhallas and I are friends, Garron. He's got a nickname for me, so we MUST be! And you know I don't bite the heads off of my friends." He turns back to Korbin with another smile that is far more orcish than congenial, brandishing his tusks and long canines. "At least not often. Now, come friends, let's hurry along and raid this relic room. I'm behind schedule today! We Greenies usually like to slaughter at least two villages before suppertime."
Inge instinctively tenses and pivots slightly, shifting the grip on her glaive when she hears talk of slaughtering not one, but two villages. She stares hard at Mugun, the armored warrior, so caught up in his own nobility. Stares for a long moment... eventually coming to a conclusion that it was a joke. Had better be a joke. About orcs, she supposes.
As she relaxes, her curiosity takes over and her brown eyes shine bright.
Relics? Ancestral treasures of untold value. Unlikely that they would end up in the pockets of this halfling, Korbin. Perhaps he is just the caretaker, looking for a key.
Inge gives a Seamus a lopsided grin and inclines her head slightly with respect, right hand to her chest. Of everyone present, he seems the most like one of the clan elders, though more focused on nature and less focused on the ancient traditions of her people, which is what interests her more. But she does appreciate someone who knows how the land provides for those that understand it.
"Jokes are good. Just where I am from, we do not joke about slaughtering villages. But I am new here and do not understand the ways of, ah..." (she looks uncertainly at Mugun) "... Nobility. Always saying something other than what they mean. Anyway, this Kor... Korby? Is he really going to give us relics?"
She squints down at the halfling and tries to give him a winning smile, with mixed results. "Got a magic glaive or halberd, Korby?"
"Why of course we're friends!", shouts Korbin to Mugun and pats him on his armored shin-guard. "I'm giving ya the strongest in human-forged steel to keep you alive! Or at least to keep you in one piece.".
He pulls out a key-ring full of keys from pockets that seem too small to hold them. "Nope.", he says and replaces key-ring back into his pocket.
"Still, I haven't met many knighted orcs in my time. Good for ya for breaking the mold! Oh, and "Sir Dimwit" is already taken by my assistance, Doug."
Korbin turns to Brymys and Inge, "I've got a few relics that may interest each of ya, but-,"
"Ah, found it!", he says as he fishes out a key with runic etching, "This way!"Korbin walks to the back of the armory's wall and taps the key against the stone. Magic runes appear briefly; then the stone slowly fade into nothing. The relic room is by no means as well stocked as the armory.
"Here we are! Take a look around and if you see something ya like bring it to me. I'll let ya know what I know about it."
Following relics :
Crate of six different colored potions
A strange rod with a button
A finely crafted shortsword with a amethyst inlaid in the pommel
Finely crafted light chainmail that is almost fabric-like
A beautiful bronze javelin
A dark blue cloak that shimmers
A finely crafted longsword with an opal sapphire inlaid in the guard
A finely crafted sliver mace.
A shield with a iridescence surface.
Three dark blue daggers with runic etching
A beautiful halberd with a sliver axe blade and dark metal handle.
Brymys looks away and does his best to blend into the background. He looks back after hearing Seamus speak and waits to hear about what kind of creature waits for them.
Rembrandt regains his composure, "She is Mirakenava (in Draconic) or Mira (in Common). She is the daughter of the late Dragon Lord. She is not much older than a wyrmling and still very much a child. I've forgotten that she is currently in hibernation after overextending her power in the war. Mira has been asleep for the past six decades and will likely sleep for another century or two. She should be resting in the sleeping chamber before you enter the treasury. Do NOT disturb her rest."
"She is not yet accustomed to meeting smaller and unfamiliar folk. Awakening her would not be good for yourselves or me." He says with a grimace.
To Seamus's question, Rembrandt's expression change from frustration to sorrow. He turns his gaze to the red feather and places a gentle hand on the glass as he speaks. "For us, long-lived races, time seems to flow much too quickly. I've lost many friends, family, and loves in the chaos of war. I have felt powerless as watched the Balor General rip the heart from the Skylord." Rembrandt rises from his seat and says, "I'm not ready to lose another I care for.".
Rembrandt moves toward the door and beckons the party to walk with him. Strolling the hallways lined with guards he states, "There has been an assassination attempt on my wife's life.", with enough protective wrath to send shivers down your spines.
"She was in the audience with the king at the time, when a group of cambion assassins attacked. The royal guards fought bravely, but could not stop all of them. She survived when King Ruslan put himself before the poisoned blade meant for her."
Rembrandt turns down a hallway to the castle armory. "We can cure the deadliest of poisons. However, this poison was also a curse. It was made from the bone marrow of a balor which attacks not only the body but corrupts the soul. There is no remedy that mortals can make for it."
He opens the door to reveal rows and rows of armor and weapons used by the guards and soldiers. "Feel free to make any upgrades to your equipment that you need."
(DM Note - The armory has all armor and weapon types, but there are no magic items. All armor has an emblem of the Lahelmder Kingdom.)
(Lore - High King Ruslan is one of the most powerful mortals on Avadorein. Some say he was offered godhood, only to turn it down; others say he is an immortal demigod on the path of godhood. He has slain many of the Balor Generals with his legendary greatsword and crossed blades with The Ruler of Demons, Irae.
Lore - High Priestess Odassa - (High Elf, Female) Worshiper and faith leader of Chauntea, Goddess Of Fertility and Prosperity. Wife to Magistrate Rembrandt. It's common knowledge that she is known as a matchmaker and midwife.)
(Can I ask what we would know about the wife of Magistrate Rembrandt? Would she be a well known figure like him or the king?)
"You have my empathy. We will begin our journey soon." Once the Magistrate opens the armory, Brymys takes a Rapier. "Do you know how much time we have to attain the elixir?"
"You have my sympathies as well, Lord Magistrate," Mugun says. "And for the king and his family. We will not fail you in this."
Mugun begins the work of looking for a suit of plate armor for himself. It is somewhat of a challenge to find a set that properly fits his sizable frame, and once he finds a set it's a challenge to put it on without the help of a squire. He keeps his own sword, shield, and tabard bearing the colors of the house of Fonelle, though he does take a broach bearing the sigil of the king with which to pin his cloak.
“Why does it have to be a ******* dragon of all things?” Garron mutters to himself and shakes his head in frustration. Of course, it would foolish to believe a contract could come across the guild’s desk for a amount of gold such as this and actually be a walk in the park. Oh well. If journeying into the unknown and facing down actual nightmares was easy then everyone would do it.
As Rembrandt explained the situation with his wife and the king Garron did his best not to fidget at the memories of the past clouding his focus. “A impressive poison if it took down King Ruslan, of all people..” The assassin gave a low whistle as the magistrate led them into the armory. “If the way you described the poison is anything to go by, I’m assuming this is a time-sensitive expedition?” Garron asked over his shoulder while thumbing the point of a razor sharp dagger he picked up for it’s place on the rack.
Inge wishes she had a magic glaive if demons are going to be involved. At least she thinks that's what a Balor is. A demon and a particularly powerful and nasty one if she remembers the whisperings of the elders correctly, though she can't quite recall the details.
Not seeing any magic weapons, instead she takes some extra javelins and quivers of arrows for her longbow from the armory. She also takes a crowbar, a grappling hook, some climbing pitons and 2 extra coils of hempen rope.
Of course maybe it will be a dragon, not a demon... but we're not supposed to disturb the dragon... Inge scrunches up her brow again, gears almost visibly grinding inside her head.
In the end, she simply says "We will do what must be done."
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
When Eilynn learns of Mirakenava, she remains silent, but her smug smile fades.
She had developed an interest in dragons and their culture during her years of training with her mentor, devoting years of free time to become proficient in Draconic. Regardless, the last thing the cleric wanted was a confrontation with an enraged adolescent dragon, let alone the daughter of a renown lord.
She spends a few minutes pacing up and down the racks of weapons, running her hands along wood and steel before settling on an elegant crossbow and short sword. Nearby observers may notice her slipping a wicked silver blade into a sheath strapped to her thigh, before it is hidden by her long skirts.
"At most, we can hold back the curse is-.", suddenly Rembrandt's speech is muted. He turns to see a stout, bald, and barefoot halfing wearing a sleeveless dirty white shirt and dark brown work-pants approaching. "Why hello there, Magistrate! Ye have summons for me?", says the halfing.
"Yes, Korbin, I've authorized access to adventures to use the relic vault.", Rembrandt says, "Oh, pardon my manners. Everyone this is Korbin Dhallas, quartermaster for the royal army. Korbin, these are the adventures from the guild."
Korbin takes a moment to size up the group. "Hrmm, are your sure about this? They look a bit too big and too tall.", he let out a laugh, "Just kidding each of ya! Hoy, greenie you missed a strap!" He helps tighten the armor straps on Sir Mugun's full-plate. "There! Don't expect to be keeping that armor unless you plan on buying it.", he turns to the rest of the group, "That goes for the rest of ya! Any gear you get from my armory is on loan. So, ya break it or forget to turn it back in, ya buy it!".
Korbin turns to Rembrandt, "Relics, huh? Don't have many of those left. But I'll see what I can do." He begins to rummage through his pockets to find... something?
Mugun's eyes open wide in shock at Korbin's address of Greeny. Even here, in the house of the king, he thinks.
He feels a flare up of rage that he has shamefully learned to associate with orcishness from a lifetime of training in court manners. With a deft application of those same manners, he suppresses it. Instead of giving into his first instinct, which is to punt this little man out the nearest window, he instead turns to Korbin, crouches down to eye level with him and says with a tone dripping with civility, "You have my thanks for the use of your fine armor, Quartermaster Dhallas. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Sir Mugun Bahbalen of House Fonelle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Greetings Korbin. Now what is this relic you have?" Brymys remarked as he examines Korbin.
Garron busies himself with a set of new leather armor as the halfling makes his introduction and doesn’t really give the little man much attention. Equipment’s on loan, eh? The assassin would be quiet pleased with himself returning the equipment because that meant for reason the gods saw it fit to allow survival. Not to mention the fact that he’d be rich.
It was impossible to stifle the loud snort of laughter that erupted from Garron’s throat at Korbin’s nickname for Mugun. “Not liking the nickname, Mugun?” He asks mischievously as he walks over and elbows his orc companion in the ribs.
Without taking his eyes off of Korbin, continuing to smile congenially, Mugun answers Garron. "I haven't made up my mind yet. It certainly is descriptive, though far from comprehensive. But that's simply because the quartermaster and I have not yet had a chance to get to know one another. You know me FAR better than Quartermaster Dhallas, Garron. Do you think the name suits me?"
“Greenie? Oh no, no. Mugun, you know well that my favorite nicknames for you change on a daily basis.” The assassin taps his chin sarcastically. “Bastard, Sir Dimwit, sword brother.. The list goes on.” Garron steers Mugun away from the quartermaster and pats his orc companion on his chest plate playfully. “Perhaps we bite the halfling’s head off after we get filthy rich, yeah?”
Mugun replies with a laugh, "I rather liked Sir Dimwit! It was appropriate to my station."
He stands back up to his rather impressive full height, rolling his shoulders, and turns to Garron, continuing "Master Dhallas and I are friends, Garron. He's got a nickname for me, so we MUST be! And you know I don't bite the heads off of my friends." He turns back to Korbin with another smile that is far more orcish than congenial, brandishing his tusks and long canines. "At least not often. Now, come friends, let's hurry along and raid this relic room. I'm behind schedule today! We Greenies usually like to slaughter at least two villages before suppertime."
Inge instinctively tenses and pivots slightly, shifting the grip on her glaive when she hears talk of slaughtering not one, but two villages. She stares hard at Mugun, the armored warrior, so caught up in his own nobility. Stares for a long moment... eventually coming to a conclusion that it was a joke. Had better be a joke. About orcs, she supposes.
As she relaxes, her curiosity takes over and her brown eyes shine bright.
Relics? Ancestral treasures of untold value. Unlikely that they would end up in the pockets of this halfling, Korbin. Perhaps he is just the caretaker, looking for a key.
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
Noting Inge's reaction, Seamus smiles at her, and murmurs, "Sarcasm... the lowest form of wit. I do not believe he is sincere."
(Didn't see any objections to Seamus holding the pearl pendant (post #40), so it is now in his possession. If this is not acceptable, speak up please.)
Inge gives a Seamus a lopsided grin and inclines her head slightly with respect, right hand to her chest. Of everyone present, he seems the most like one of the clan elders, though more focused on nature and less focused on the ancient traditions of her people, which is what interests her more. But she does appreciate someone who knows how the land provides for those that understand it.
"Jokes are good. Just where I am from, we do not joke about slaughtering villages. But I am new here and do not understand the ways of, ah..." (she looks uncertainly at Mugun) "... Nobility. Always saying something other than what they mean. Anyway, this Kor... Korby? Is he really going to give us relics?"
She squints down at the halfling and tries to give him a winning smile, with mixed results. "Got a magic glaive or halberd, Korby?"
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
"Why of course we're friends!", shouts Korbin to Mugun and pats him on his armored shin-guard. "I'm giving ya the strongest in human-forged steel to keep you alive! Or at least to keep you in one piece.".
He pulls out a key-ring full of keys from pockets that seem too small to hold them. "Nope.", he says and replaces key-ring back into his pocket.
"Still, I haven't met many knighted orcs in my time. Good for ya for breaking the mold! Oh, and "Sir Dimwit" is already taken by my assistance, Doug."
Korbin turns to Brymys and Inge, "I've got a few relics that may interest each of ya, but-,"
"Ah, found it!", he says as he fishes out a key with runic etching, "This way!" Korbin walks to the back of the armory's wall and taps the key against the stone. Magic runes appear briefly; then the stone slowly fade into nothing. The relic room is by no means as well stocked as the armory.
"Here we are! Take a look around and if you see something ya like bring it to me. I'll let ya know what I know about it."
Following relics :
Crate of six different colored potions
A strange rod with a button
A finely crafted shortsword with a amethyst inlaid in the pommel
Finely crafted light chainmail that is almost fabric-like
A beautiful bronze javelin
A dark blue cloak that shimmers
A finely crafted longsword with an opal sapphire inlaid in the guard
A finely crafted sliver mace.
A shield with a iridescence surface.
Three dark blue daggers with runic etching
A beautiful halberd with a sliver axe blade and dark metal handle.
Seamus feels drawn to the blue cloak and blue runic daggers. He will carry these to Korbin and ask about them.