EPISODE 10 – THE COURTING OF FIRE

It's been about a full tenday since CRAP put an end to the machinations of the hags back at the unnamed islet. The party had cleansed a portion of the Valhingen Graveyard’s catacombs just before venturing out of town too, but that feels like an eternity ago by now.

Apart from a few select citizens, most of those who live in Phlan have been blissfully ignorant about the dangers in the catacombs and in the islet. Perhaps, that’s for the best. Life is Phlan progresses as it does every day with only few exceptions. The docks are moderately busy, though not as much as they have been in the past; Podol Plaza is bustling with people going on about their day; the Temple of the Hand continues to act as the city’s main treatment center since the healing ward in the Lyceum fell into a sinkhole; the Black Fist continues to lazily patrol the streets and only act when palms have been greased; fresh corpses hang from the Stojanow Gate as has become common under the city’s martial law; and all but a few construction projects have been halted by the Labor Guilds.

Other recent sources of trouble have mostly been an afterthought over this last tenday as well. The Welcomers have laid low as far as CRAP can tell, and the Cult of the Dragon has apparently yet to recover from the large defeat at the Quivering Forest. Apart from the runaway necromancer Zaralda, CRAP has not come across or heard about the Cult of the Dragon in many tendays.

Speaking of construction projects, CRAP has finally been able to properly move into their new HQ (a.k.a. Leadstopper Residence). Each party member has claimed a room on the second floor, with a fifth room being reserved for the fifth person in the deed, Villonah Leadstopper. On the first floor, there is a common area, a kitchen with plenty of storage room, a dining area, and a sixth bedroom, which has been claimed by the residence’s new caretaker, Sagin, the reclaimed kobold.

Utar, Neya, and Graxx find themselves in the Leadstopper Residence, enjoying an unusual lazy evening. Doozey’s room has been unused since the hunter left town alongside Elisande in hopes to deliver her to his clan. The rest of the group is left to guess how long the ranger’s solo side mission may take.

On a table in the small common area on the second floor, CRAP-sans-Doozey (or perhaps CRAP- instead of CRAP+) can see an onyx statuette of a dog being used as a paperweight. It secures a note left behind by CRAP’s favorite stoutling.

(OOC: For those of you in the house, please go ahead and describe what your characters may be doing and what they look like. It is always a good reminder to get a description and some of you may look a little different now due to new gear, scars, or taste in attire. If you have it in you, and this is for @Ori too, feel free to describe what your particular rooms look like and even take a stab at any other rooms in the house. I’ll also let @Ori describe what the note says.)

Having not spent too much time around the other CRAPPERS this past tenday, Utar is happy to back in the company of Neya and Graxx. Given all that's happened to the group lately, it seems like a weight has been lifted from the half-orc. CRAP devised their own mission, recruited some fairly handy adventurers to bolster their own ranks, stared down a number of fiends and succeeded, bringing everyone home. No loose ends. It would have been better had they not inadvertently damaged the anchor of The Salty Snapper, likely not becoming the best of friends with that ship's Captain. That said, The Alces was as stalwart a ship and crew as he had suspected it to be.

Yes, it would have been better had they arrived in time to prevent Derannos' death. Yes, it might be better to have a better idea of whatever dark powers Elisande now possesses. And it would definitely be better if she wasn't wearing the remains of her pet goat as a hat...

Having already stored his armour, shield and Lightbringer securely in his room, Utar busied himself in the kitchen, attempting to brew a little tea. Opening and closing cupboards, unable to find a suitable brewing vessel, he eventually gives up, laughs and settles himself in a chair.

Wearing the Tormite robes he had been at the temple, simple and comfortable, a little of the still ugly scar on his neck is visible, the purple contrasting with the pallid grey-green of his skin. His black hair pulled and tied back, although a few grey hairs collected during his time with CRAP now show. Similarly, his close cropped beard shows a little more salt and pepper than it used to.

Looking to Doozey's letter, he looks over to Neya and Graxx. "Anyone mind if I take a look at Doozey's note?"

(OOC: Unfortunately don't quite have it in me just yet to describe Ori's room in part of previous mentioned rl issues. Mayhaps another time. ^_^; Though as a spoiler, it is likely to be the most drab given the stoutling's sense of pragmatism over aesthetics.)

For those that read the note:

Graxx is in his room looking out his window.  A piece of him longs for living out in the wilderness again but he has found the comforts of town living has its benefits.  He fears it may make him weak…. Soft times make for soft men.

Graxx drops down his bare chest showing with his black hair a trait of Sky Ponies is bound into Vines.  His weaponry sits in a corner, specifically his trusty axe which is blessed by Tempus himself.  He does some push-ups to make his muscles bulge and assure himself he is no losing his edge.

His armor sits by itself in another corner.  He wears his Belt but his mask is off to the side as well as joined by a new piece of equipment.  There is a new set of menacing shoulder pads delicately placed.  When wearing this Graxx’s shoulders are covered with Hyrdra Fangs and rib cage bones come down off of them to hold the pads in place on Graxx’s body.  They don’t seem to offer much protection but they are fierce.

Graxx’s room is fairly simple.  It consists of a bed and a desk made of wood.  There are several shelves all around the room but they are empty so far.  Graxx stands up and takes his axe Tempus’s Dogma in his hand.  He sets it on one shelf… then another.. then another.. He can’t decide where to place it. He places the axe back down and retreats to the common area with Utar and Neya.

”Go ahead…. I’m anxious to see what our friend has to say.” says Graxx patiently.

After meditating on her activities in the past few nights, Neya fills taps a magical vase that sprouts a half-dozen canes of violet lilac flowers.

Wearing clothes commonly seen among the people of Phlan, she is a darker-skinned human of average height. But, her appearance hides the body and mind of a well-trained infiltrator. Her shadow, however betrays her being marked by something strange. While the casual observer my not see anything immediately amiss, her shadow is a degree darker than any light conditions may permit.

Not having seen Doozey Much before his departure, Neya responds to Utar, "Not at all. He left without much fanfare, I would like to hear what his parting words, for the time, being, are."

At their own pace, Graxx, Utar, and Neya make their way to the upstairs common area. Doozey's note has been sitting on the small table for a time now but it never seemed right to peek at it without the three other CRAPers being in the room at the same time. After visiting the unnamed islet one more time, they had spent most of the last seven or so days tending to their own personal errands. There was no further delaying now that the perfect opportunity presented itself.

Utar reaches for the note and, after reading a couple of lines silently, restarts reading from the top but aloud this time. The note is short and to the point, and is true to Doozey's quirks, but it communicates a few things clearly. First, the stoutling has taken upon himself to find a new home for Elisande, a place where she'll also get to learn more about the world and receive some training as well. Second, it may take some time before Doozey is able to return to Phlan, but he has detailed the path he is taken should that information become useful. And third, in his absence, the ranger has left Berry behind so the mastiff can be of aid to CRAP-. There are a few more bits in there about Villonah and the Fey Lord too, in case those threads are rekindled in the hunter's absence.

The trio has little time to digest Doozey's note. Only moments after the third reading they all hear a knock on the front door. Before they can make a motion to start heading downstairs, Sagin emerges from the kitchen where he has been practicing one of the three recipes Fat Mar taught him during his stint at the Laughing Goblin. The little kobold has much to learn still, but one out of every three meals he prepares is turning out to be edible enough. He'll get there.

Sagin opens the door, talks to someone for a brief second, closes the door again somewhat abruptly/impolitely (much to learn still as mentioned above) and makes his way upstairs. "A man in purple robes arrived. The same man from supper time many days ago. Sagin don't know if let him inside. Sagin closed the door." The kobold is tightly holding the Wand of Web that Doozey gifted him, and looks ready to use it if needed.

(OOC: We need a volunteer to add Berry to their inventory.)

Utar gives a chuckle, "Nice to see you taking your duties so seriously, Sagin.  But I think we can invite them in." The half-orc drops his voice conspiratorially, "This time."

Pulling himself from his chair and setting his robes just so, he looks to Sagin, "Let's see who was at the door." 

Letting the kobold lead the way, he follows along, ready to welcome their visitor.

(OOC - Suggest either Graxx or Neya hold onto the statue.  Might provide an animal messenger in a pinch?)

Graxx looks to the statue then thinks to his axe's power.

"Neya, I'd feel best if you took Berry for now.  I have to worry enough about accidentally gashing Glory when I get to cleaving with my axe.  I don't want to worry about hurting Berry too..."

Graxx looks to the door.

"Yes, let them in." agrees Graxx.

Graxx closes his Eyes...

"Tempus give me your sight..." Graxx whispers.

Graxx will cast Divine Sense.

Neya nods, "Okay, I will take good care of Berry until Doozey returns."

Neya then stand up and turns to the door to greet the new visitor, though the mention of purple robes makes her more alert. Since CRAP has encountered people in that color garment, before. While she is assuming nothing, caution is better than complacency.

While Utar seems ready to receive the visitor, Graxx and Neya hesitate for a moment. The Sky Pony man even consults with Tempus but is assured that no celestial, fiend, or undead waits for him downstairs and no source of evil has entered the vicinity.

At the door, a hooded figure in a dark blue cloak wastes no time coming inside once the door is reopened. The mistake in color description was more anxiety-inducing than Sagin could have known, but all is well that ends well. Harper greets the group but keeps his half-elven ears hidden within his cloak: "Greetings, friends. I hope my unannounced visit is not disturbing your evening too much." His smile is genuine and he follows it by gesturing to the still open door as if asking someone to follow him inside. "I brought another acquaintance."

In walks a woman of small stature, her general features betraying her halfling origin right away. She has black hair and pale skin, and the more observant among the group should be able to tell that her eyes are somewhat red and pink. Any attempts at placing her on an age scale would likely land somewhere in the mid-twenties.

"This is Ms. Overhill, a fellow Harper agent." Any surprise shown around the room following the overt revelation is quickly addressed by Harper: "I realize we are usually a secretive organization but CRAP's and our goals here in Phlan have proven to be repeatedly aligned. Plus, what I came here to propose would inevitably arrive at this information regardless." He walks about as if delivering a pensive monologue. "When you last asked me for help, I was unable to aid you directly. Given little time to come up with a substitute, I rushed into the decision to send my apprentice-of-sorts to your side. Although Bigar is an enthusiastic student, he is still a bit... let's say... green." He smirks at the clearly intended pun. "Although you all succeeded, it was unfair of me to put such a youngling in a life-or-death circumstance and to ask you all to protect him while dealing with such a large threat to Phlan." He gestures once again to the halfling woman: "Ms. Overhill here will serve as my apologetic gesture. You have mentioned your group's lack of an arcane expert to me in more than one occasion and Ms. Overhill was in search of new grounds to test her might. It was a match waiting to happen. I only wished her arrival in town had happened over a tenday earlier, but better late than never. But alas, I have spoken for far too long. I should let the lady speak for herself."

With that, Harper steps aside as if leaving a stage so the next act can step up. 

Notably throughout the whole spiel and even during her entrance into the house, the halfling hardly looked up at all from an old, rawhide book in hand, muttering this and that while scribbling away on one of the books many pages. The more perceptive would of course pick up the fact her words ranged from absent-minded commentary about Harper's introduction to descriptors of some kind of tale involving of a Boggle that would be King. In the former's case there's nothing disparaging in any way. It's only after a perhaps awkward moment of silence following Harper giving her room to speak that the halfling truly looked up for than moment.

"Hm? Oh, we're already at this part of the story. Seems I misjudged the timing. But it's all of little matter in the end." She comments while slipping away the book in some inner pocket of her robe, before then looking up to the group with unnerving yet soft smile. Much as described before, what is seen is a petite, young halfling woman with long, black unkempt hair spilling along the side of her head as two long tresses, as well as along the back of a white robe with frayed and tarnished edges. Like most halflings, her feet are usually bare, or in severe conditions, covered in thick foot wraps. Her hands and part of her forearms are covered in gauze. Though as she held her hat to better view everyone, she appeared unhindered by any injury.

She also wore little in the way of adornments with one exception: an orange amulet with black symbols reminiscent of an eye inlaid atop a scroll, and a drab ribbon tying her hair in the back. This having been glimpsed on a necklace before being covered up again by her robe. A wide-brimmed witch-like hat and seemingly full to the brim backpack otherwise completes her ensemble of the red/pink-eyed halfling! "The name is Obsben Overhill. But most call me Obby. Not sure why though since they usually know my name. Then again, it could be feywild influences. Not that most remember such things." She admits as much, then canted her head slightly to the side and adds, "Hmn. You all will do quite nicely." 

(OOC: Trying to think of other examples, but Luna Lovegood from the movie version of the Harry Potter series would be the closest approximation to speech and mannerism of this character.)

Closest Imagery:

 Neya nods and greets the new arrival, "Nice to meet you. I am Neya."

To Obby's last statement, she responds, "What about us seems intriguing to you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Graxx looks curiously at Obsben then he smiles.

”Hello, Obs… Obsben” Graxx says with a little difficulty at first but he gets the pronunciation right.

”I am Graxx of the Sky Pony tribe.” says Graxx.

Graxx looks at the bandages and at Obsben’s physique.

”You are a powerful wizard then?  What type of things do you like to do in battle?  I like to use an Axe myself.” Asks Graxx. 

Obsben shrugs at Neya. "You're all a lot taller than I expected." She replied simply. But with Graxx, she seemed to pause in thought for a moment or two, idly letting her fingers dance in the air off to the side as if... as if she was going to cast a spell right that instant!

Yet after a moment more she simply shrugs and says, "I'm pretty handy with a crossbow. And I can twist time a little bit. It's kinda why things aren't going boom right now." She frowns and looks off to the side and adds to empty space, "Well it's technically true, but we never could be sure before now could we?" She then shakes her head, and looks back up to Graxx with a smile as if nothing wrong. "I also know quite a few stories that seem to make people bravery than most after hearing them. You wanna hear them? I was just working on this one tale about a Boggle Knight journey across the feywild to slay a Jabberwoggy."

Harper smiles widely as he sees his introductions were successful and the skilled adventures are off talking on their own. He feels like he doesn't want to spoil the moment an so, for his part, he avoids barging into the conversation for a little while. He had spoke enough at the top of it.

In the background, Sagin takes some initiative and begins setting up a table. By smell, CRAP can tell the kobold is about to start serving his own version of the Laughing Goblin's famous cabbage soup. Mar's version is much better.

The group sits down to enjoy a simple but filling meal, albeit mostly thanks to the multitudes of bread accompanying the soup. Conversation is had by most as CRAP- gets to know a bit more about Obby and vice versa. Eventually, Harper pipes up again with a more practical question: "Would you have a spare room for Ms. Overhill in your home? We can certainly put her up at an inn but if this relationship is to develop brightly, may I be so bold as to suggest she stays here with you?"

(OOC: I'm happy to let this introductory RPing go on for a bit longer, unless you are all itching to get into the thick of it, of course.)

Taking the hot soup bowl in his hands, Utar gives the steaming bowl a deep sniff.  It can't be any worse than some of the food that has been served by Brother Tyree at the Temple.  Plus it is a meal that he hasn't had to prepare himself, and there is a kind of love imbued within such meals regardless of their quality.

"Mmm smells good, Sagin."

Tucking in, but mainly to the bread, using it to slop up some of the soup, "Tastes good too, complements to the chef."

Turning to Harper and to Obsben, "We've likely got space for an extra person to bed down here. Doozey's room is empty but he'll likely be back at some point. Villanoh's room is empty, or my room can be easily emptied.  Not too much stuff in there already and I can bed down somewhere else in the house or back at the Temple."

His voice taking on a more questioning tone as he focusses down on something mentioned earlier, he addresses their newest member directly "Obsben, do you mind explaining what you meant earlier about why things weren't going boom right now?"

Obsben is all smiles and "hms~" of delight when it came time for breakfast. Or perhaps second breakfast for her, given the reputation of some halflings. Yet even despite seeming to relish every bit of what morsels find her tongue, the halfling proves uncannily attentive in the small nods or shake of the head in response to passing conversations.

With a raised brow, Obsben considers Utar's question for a moment, before polishing off a chunk of bread and reverting back to serene expression. "Sure. Used to be I wouldn't get as far enough to bother , seeing most would be too distracted with the booms or the bubbles coming out of their mouth." She admits.

"Everyone knows or at least suspects us halflings to be extraordinarily lucky. But me family was especially blessed according to me grandma by some two-bit hussy of a goddess. Though I suppose it's my ancestors fault for helping her in the first place." She shrugs. "Anyhow. By her grace we were very, very lucky. Even to the point that the most extraordinary things would happen to keep us safe or make us successful; such as the wind suddenly kicking scat in a meany's face, or the aforementioned explosion or falling apart of a building to crush someone else's work. Or even doors falling on rude little dragonlings head after slamming them close to an Overhill." She shoots Sagin her customary unnerving smile, prior to then looking back to Utar. "Stuff like that. But sometimes it was more subtle too." She explained, then looked a touch crestfallen as she added, "It was more prevalent for those of us born with a talent to manipulate the weave."

There's a moment's pause before sleepy-eyed Obsben looked up brightly again, "But I said enough was enough eventually, left home, found me a teacher, and eventually learned a few tricks to suppress that hussy's curse. Which was surprisingly easy, and now barely an inconvenience."

(OOC: I was half-way tempted to say 'And then she rambled onfor 10 minutes on her backstory', granting everyone got the benefits of Inspiring Leader, but.. that can maybe wait a bit. xD)

Utar nods along with the explanation. He's heard crazier stories. Tribes of barbarian horsemen stuck in a leadership struggle, secret organisations manipulating society at large from the shadows, converts jumping from one side of an armed conflict to the other and finding religion along the way. Looking around the room there are plenty.

"Well, I guess we just need to make sure we stay on your good side, Obsben. Problem solved."

He extends a hand towards the halfling, thinks about it for a moment, retracts it, wiping it on the leg of his robe before returning it.

"I'm Utar by the way. Cleric of Torm. Pleased to meet you."

Graxx listens intently.

"I'm not sure what all the weave talk is about but I get the being blessed by the Gods thing.  It's good to have the right ones on your side sometimes." says Graxx.

Graxx smiles in between bites.

"I would like to hear of this Boggle Knight but if it's magic lets save it for a special occasion to make me braver." says Graxx.

Graxx extends his arms.

"Welcome to the Warband!  I look forward to seeing you in action." says Graxx

Obsben readily aimed to return the handshake. Though a touch confused by the cleaning of the hand, she held back any commentary and simply smiled warmly up and over to the Half-Orc. "Pleased to be meet you as well." She looks to the rest of the group. "All of you, really." Her smile brightens just a touch more in the moment. 

"Warband? Hm... How quaint. And its not magic. Well, not really. But I've had it told it felt as much as so to those willing to listen to my tales. So, treat as you wish, Warlord Graxx." She replied simply. "Oh. And if you acquire any loose gold pieces, I would appreciate having those, as I can spin them into a powerful spell when needed."