Unsurprisingly, the cover on the wagon did nothing to stop you from feeling the weight of the beating sun overhead. The path is quite rough, resulting in a bumpy ride which—when combined with the stifling heat—leaves you all in a state of perpetual discomfort*. You haven't seen a road in hours. Just dry, sun-baked, uneven rock as far as the eye can see. An occasional withered shrub protrudes from cracks in the rocky ground. For the whole day, you have heard nothing but the dull, constant plodding of the horses' hooves with the occasional tug of the reins from the wagon driver, a halfling named Fletch.
The letters you each received from Klage contained instructions and a map to the chasm's location. Supposedly, Klage has an outpost located on the West side of the canyon, where the expedition members will meet. Getting there, however, was easier said than done. The canyon seems to be the most popular travel destination in all of Faerun, much to your inconvenience. Travel accommodations were hard to come by. The worry of missing the expedition seemed a very real threat. Luckily, in the city of Yartar, the six of you found Fletch, who agreed to take you in his wagon all the way to the outpost. He himself was going to the canyon anyway to transport supplies to another group of adventurers.
Today marks the sixth day of your journey. Fletch has assured you all that you'll arrive before sunset. However, every minute seems to take five minutes, and the only sound being the hooves of the horses does not help your boredom. Fletch isn't too keen on conversations either. Perhaps the five other strangers** with you in the back of the wagon would make for more interesting talk?
Footnotes
* Torwin is not as quite as bothered by the heat, being cold-blooded and in the shade provided by the covered wagon.
** You all have never met prior to getting on Fletch's wagon.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."
Though the heat was indeed affecting her, Fifi's excitement overpowered her discomfort. Throughout the ride, she was often peeking out the wagon's covers to take a look at the scenery, her light brown eyes darting back and forth across the landscape. Every time she did this, the outside heat invaded whatever little cool the wagon managed to retain.
Every bump in the road caused a strand of the satyr's unruly, red hair to fall on her face. In response, she would inflate her cheeks and blow air upwards in an attempt to move the hair away. This method seemed to work half the time. The times it failed was followed by additional attempts until success was had.
As of now, Fifi was tapping her hands on her thighs to the rhythm of the horses' clopping. The young satyr began to hum a sweet tune. It was clear that she was excited about the expedition soon to come.
More than once on his life Radu Ashford had hit rock bottom. Never before he had wished to literally do so. The sun was nothing but a huge source of discomfort. Too bright, too hot, too damn resilient on the skies. Enough to make him understand the choice of dwarves and drow to bury underground. He could barely wait for the night. Or for any sort of darkness, truth be told.
Fletcher had told them the torture would end earlier than that, but on his letter the man had also described himself as an optimist so there would be no surprise if the damn journey took a day or two more. At least no more tourists, the Blood Hunter reflected while taking care of his crossbows as ease as anyone could breathe, despite the bumps on the road. Of course I can do it fast. Now that I want it to take time, I can finish the whole thing without even thinking. Shit.
Showing no satisfaction for a work well done he put the weapons back, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. The satyr’s humming was pleasant, thought he would be damned to lowest of the Hells before admitting it. It could be a problem on the new frontier, Radu knew. An easy noise for anything down there to pick. Hope we at least get a fast death. Last thing he needed was another Bane.
"The Yellow God's light shines quite brightly here.." A tall man pulls back his hood to wipe the sweat from his brow, exposing his olive-tanned skin and snow-white hair. "And you cannot cover up the sun with a sieve.."
The white, red, and gold vestments well-cover the long chainmail hauberk which rattles to the beat of the bumpiness of the road. Tall and broad-shouldered, he strikes a figure resonant of his still young age, however his white hair gives the impression of a far older man. A kite shield normally strapped across his body now propped in front of him - the symbol of the sun blaring outwardly toward the group. The holy symbol around his neck clanks against the inside of his shield as he leans forward.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is Geraine." He quickly scans the group until his gaze lands on the Satyr flicking a loose strand of red hair back out of her face, humming a tune harmonizing with the sounds of the horses hoofs. "Aside from the Great God Amaunator; who, may I ask, blesses this journey with me today?"
Rosie had tried multiple times to engage Fletch in conversation: asking him about his life, his dreams, his ambitions. The series of grunts she got in return seems to indicate the fellow had no more goal in life than to drive this wagon. After her latest attempt, she gives up and retreats to the relative cool of the back of the wagon under the canopy. She pulls her grey hair up into a ponytail and smiles at all the others, and when she does so, her whole face crinkles with smile lines. It's easily apparent she has spent a great many years smiling.
"Blimey, it's a hot one. How's everyone doing? Are you all drinking enough water?" She passes out a waterskin to everyone before turning to Geraine. "Nice to meet you Geraine, I'm Rosie. Isn't that nice your God has come with you. How are they handling this heat?" She chuckles a little at her own joke, before looking at the Satyr."Why that's a nice tune, where is it from?"
Geraine turns his head toward Rosie, holding up a hand pointing to the sky with a hint of smugness. "The Sun can be your greatest gloom, or your greatest comforter, depending on how you view its shine."
He takes a long pull of water before handing it back. "We are all flowers, of which the Sun's light and heat gives us life. But as the flower - we also need a drink here and there as well! Thank you."
Burn sits quietly in the corner of the wagon and watches the others interact. Her gaze resting on Rosie for a moment, she pulls out a small pouch and drops something into her free hand. Anyone looking her way will notice that she appears to be rolling the contents around in a circular motion, before blowing into her closed fist. Without a word, she rolls what appears to be a large marble to the other three corners of the wagon. Anyone within 3 feet of the marbles can feel a cool, refreshing breeze emanating from them. She puts the bag away, deadpan stares at Rosie again for a moment, then begins tinkering with her long ornate stick. (her Blunderbuss for those familiar)
When loading into the wagon Towrin had a couple of bags filled with various items. Mostly, books, paper, ink, pens and the suck. A short lizard folk that doesn't even reach 5 feet tall thyey seem thin and wiry. They quietly get onto the wagon with out saying much unless address or talked to. They seem to be incredibly nervous and opened their mouth to try and say something a couple of times to the others. They eventually give up though and decided to pull a book out of their pack and hide their face behind it. Their legs nervously bouncing as they peak around the side of the book several times as they read to look at the others but never seem to work up the courage to say anything. Torwin seem to enjoy the slight humming tune and lack of social expectation as the ride continues on. They even begin to hum along with the saytr as they read their book.
When the first person talks the yellow and black scaled lizard man ends up jumping in their seat like they were frightened causing them to drop their book on the floor of the wagon. They reach down to grab it saying "S-s-sorry sorry! D-d-didn't mean to." They pick up the book and see that people are greeting each other in the hot heat. The heat is a bit comfortable for Torwin but the bumpy ride very much making them uncomfortable. Torwin seems to stammer even more as they reply "Oh! I'm T-t-torwin." They seem to shrink a bit as if they did something wrong but don't go back to reading their book and seem to be paying attention to the others in the wagon now.
The irregular jostling of the wagon on the uneven terrain causes Burn's augmented marbles to roll around the wagon floor between your feet, creating an erratic pattern of temperature change within the wagon. As one rolls towards the front, Fletch is startled by the sudden cold radiating from behind him, but as he wheels around to peer through the slit in the wagon cover, the marble rolls away.
Fletch: "Almost there."
He speaks briskly, as if the act of speaking is a bothersome task to be finished as quickly as possible. He gestures directly ahead.
From over the bobbing heads of the horses, you can make out a vague, dark shape on the horizon. Against the dark shape are what appear to be several odd rock formations. Thin wisps of smoke rise from some of the rocks. All of this appears to be a little over a mile away.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."
Burn watches the marbles roll around as if she is evaluating their effectiveness. She then pulls out a notebook and a thin charcoal stick. Her face contorts with each unintended roll, stopping only to look down and scribble into her notebook.
When the cleric initiated conversation, the satyr stopped her humming though she continued to drum her thighs. "The name's Sophia, but everyone calls me Fifi. A pleasure to meet you too!"
After Geraine takes a sip from Rosie's waterskin, Fifi happily takes it. She brings the mouth of the waterskin to her mouth and begins to tilt the waterskin at a high angle, readying herself to chug as much water as she could. But before she does, the satyr remembers her manners and stopped herself short. In contrast to her near, unsightly actions Fifi makes a point to sip from the waterskin daintily like how she imagined a fair maiden would. Once done, Fifi rests the waterskin on her lap and laughs at her own silliness. She hands the waterskin back to Rosie with a smile, "Thank you, it was just what I needed. The tune's one my mum used to hum all the time. Ain't no special song in particular, just a sweet little melody that reminds me of her. Reminds me of home." Though her words may sound sad, the satyr wears a smile alluding otherwise.
As one of Burn's marble rolls its way over to Fifi, the satyr feels its cold aura. "Now that's an invention for the history books!" the satyr stops the marble with a light step from her hoof and picks it up to examine it. Enjoying the cool, Fifi covers the marble with a fist and rubs it against her cheek. "Aaaaaaah, a wonderful item indeed. Thank you friend, it makes the journey so much more enjoyable." Fifi placed the marble back on the wagon floor, allowing it to continue its journey randomly rolling across the floor.
The satyr looks at Burn, then to Towrin, and then to the bloodhunter (who has yet to introduce themself). She tries to make brief eye contact with each of them before saying, "Everyone here seems like a great bunch! It's a pleasure to be working with y'all!"
Rosie takes back the waterskin after everyone who wants to has taken a sip. She smiles at the cooling marbles rolling around, nods eagerly at the sentiment offered by Fifi, makes her way to the front of the wagon to check that Fletch is OK after speaking a whole two words, and laying a comforting hand on the nervous lizardfolks shoulder as she passes. Once at the front, she steps out from under the canopy to peer at the vista ahead; equal parts nervous, excited and determined at what is in store for them.
She calls back to the others to elaborate a little on Fletch's information: "Yes, about a mile away. Is everyone ready?"
As the marbles start to effect the wagon area with coolness Torwin seems to avoid getting close to them but like Burn he also pulls out another book from his pack putting away the one he was reading and starts to jot down a few notes on whatever they may know of the item as well as their thoughts on the item itself. (Arcana Check: 19) They seem to finish up quickly and then they try to sneak a peek at what Burn is writing doing a terrible job of hiding their curiosity at what they might be writing. He's definitely not a stealthy one but seems to be genuine in his curiosity. They seem too shy to say anything though and when looked at by Burn they will quickly turn away and look nervous.
As the cleric and satyr begin to talk Torwin waits for a pause in their conversation and says "D-d-do you know a-a-any songs f-from your h-h-homel-l-land? ....I've n-n-never heard s-s-satyr music b-b-before." they seem to struggle talking as their stutter seems to be getting worse and worse. Torwin has an awkward pause after asking their question as they begin to think of what they know about satyrs and their history in the world (History Check: 6). The lizard folk seems to think of something and pulls out an item from their pack as they say "Oh! Umm... I-I-I noticed umm... n-n-nevermind." Whatever they had they put it back in their pack.
They seem to fidget a bit then look towards the cleric to try and figure out who they are a cleric of. They mentioned Amaunator and as a distraction for themselves Torwin tries to recall if they know about them and what their tenets of worship are. (Check Religion: 10). It takes a moment and they try to be polite as they nod towards Geraine, "Umm... h-h-how l-l-long... n-n-nevermind." they seem absolutely overwhelmed and uncertain. They look to Rosie as if seeking an answer from them but ultimately the nervous lizard man just looks down at the floor of the wagon and touches their fingers together in a nervous motion.
Torwin can't seem to bring themselves to look at the blood hunter. Not out of disrespect but rather fear of them. When Fletch mentions that we are almost there Torwin looks out the window towards the dark shapes in the distance. When Rosie asks if everyone is ready Torwin quickly scrambles through their pack and gear to make sure everything is there. The mass of papers, books and ink easily heard being shifted around. The lizard folk also checks a small pouch that is held on a belt with them making sure that various odd items are in it, the pull out a feather, a few pieces of rotten food, rose petals and other odd items then put them back in and look to Rosie and says "Y-y-yes. I h-ha-have my things."
Fifi brightens up when asked about music, "Hmm, I don't think satyrs have a specific type of music we'd call our own. We kind of just like a bit of everything, so we play a bit of everything. Typically happy music."
As she talks, Fifi lays a hand on her lute sitting next to her to help make her point.
Geraine glances towards the yellow and black lizardfolk as they attempt to stammer out a question to Fifi. Noticing their nervousness as they start to retrieve an item from their pack before rewinding their actions. (Perception Check: 23 in game log)
As they they turn to Geraine and begin to speak, he steps out of his seat to kneel in front of Torwin, shifting his weight forward against his shield. He takes a moment to allow them to try to get their question out before hearing the "n-n-nevermind". "You always have a voice while near me my scaley little friend." He holds up his holy symbol toward them. "Within the light provided by the Keeper of the Eternal Sun all are judged equally."
"And.." He pauses slightly as he works to stand, briefly taking hold of his holy symbol and casting Thaumaturgy to amplify the sound of his next words directed to Fletch. "Amaunator's blessings be on those who are on-time and punctual."
“No bless to give, but the name is Radu.” He said opening his eyes as the cleric basically asked everyone to introduce themselves. In retrospect it was strange that after so many days of travel only now they came to exchange names. The halfling had the wisdom of years and the demeanor of a mother. The Blood Hunter decided he liked her but still refused when the canteen was offered to him. On the desert water was too precious and too limited of a resource for him to take it a moment before feeling absolutely necessary to do so.
The young but white-haired cleric was too optimistic and flowered for his taste while the lizardman was downright curious on the virtue of appearing to be nervous. Wasn’t his kind supposed to not have emotions? Maybe this one is a good actor. Maybe he is waiting the chance to make us into a broth. The thought alone made him imagine which kind of seasoning he would receive.
“Finally.”He said when Fletch pointed their destination. “Are you practicing to recruit people into a cult or something like that?” Radu asked Geraine in response to what he could only see as unnecessary theatricality. It would make a lot of sense if the man intended to use the incursion to spread his faith. Put the infidels under that judgement within the light.
Geraine's eyes quickly dart to Radu, then soften slightly under an expression of contempt. "Sometimes, it is the night which makes one truly appreciate the light. How long, I wonder, will you take to miss the sun once we ascend into the darkness?" His face softens further into a subtle smirk. "I look forward to our excursion, but I will repeat.." He again holds up his holy symbol. "Within the light provided by the Keeper of the Eternal Sun, all, are judged equally."
Drawing nearer to the dark shape in the distance, you can finally see what it is. The canyon. Over half a mile wide, and unspeakably deep, it stretches so far across the sun-baked land that you can't see the other end from the wagon. Getting closer, the wagon rides along the long side of the canyon, about fifty feet from the edge, preventing you from looking into its depths.
As Torwin rifles through their supplies, a piece of loose blank parchment is caught in a sudden gust of wind, causing it to fly and promptly plant itself in Radu's face, before being blown out the back of the wagon, drifting towards the chasm, and sinking out of site.
As you get nearer to what appeared to be rock formations, you realize that they are not rocks. Dotting the landscape along the edge of the canyon are hundreds (perhaps thousands) of tents, carts, wagons, and some crude huts. Amidst these are what could only be adventurers. Thousands of adventurers. More than you've ever seen in one place before. Packing and unpacking supplies, huddling in circles to discuss plans, trading amongst each other, laughing, arguing, and making their way towards the chasm. Several winch-and-pully contraptions have been arranged on the very edge of the chasm, from which adventurers make their slow descent into the cavernous depths.
As Fletch's wagon passes all of these things, you can see another, larger structure standing separate from all the other campsites. A house, two stories tall, constructed in an L-shape, standing only thirty feet from the edge of the chasm. It appears newly built, with no trace of decay in the wooden framework, and no dirt on the red tiled roof. Multiple round windows dot the exterior, curtains drawn over them, hiding the interior. On the inner side of the short end of the "L" is what appears to be the main entrance: a pair of varnished, ornately carved double-doors.
Not a single soul in sight.
Fletch stops his wagon near the doors. Stepping down from the rider's seat of the wagon, he waddled around to the back, undoing a latch and causing a wooden platform to drop, creating a ramp to allow for easy exit from the back of the wagon.
Fletch: "Yer travel ends here. Good luck in the pit."
Notes:
Torwin's Arcana check: Examining the marble, Torwin instantly recognizes its abnormal properties as being the result of an artificer's craft, magically augmented to radiate a refreshing cold.
Torwin's History check: From what Torwin can recall on the origins of satyrs, he knows that they originate from the Feywild, but occupy many forest regions across Faerun, particularly in the North.
Torwin's Religion check: Torwin distinctly recalls information on the Chruch of Amaunator from a book he read recently. Amaunator was the ancient Netherese God of the Sun, also holding domain over concepts of law and order, as well as time. The Chruch was once much larger, but after the fall of the Netherese Empire, their numbers dwindled. It is believed by some that the gods Lathander and Amaunator are one and the same, thus part of the Church remains as a sect of the Church of Lathander. The dogma of Amaunator's worshipers places heavy emphasis on the law, which they believe to be the most vital force in civilization. Initiates of the Church are taught to follow the law meticulously.
Geraine's Perception check: The lizardfolk seems to have nothing out of the ordinary among their possessions. Just books, ink, pens, and loose parchment.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."
“I prefer the nights when they are darker and to satiate your wondering, as long as we have dim light I won’t miss the source of excessive heat.” The Blood Hunter said entirely unconvinced by the cleric’s words. “Believe what you will, but don’t go forcing your doctrine into others. Specially not down there. This kind of shit can start a fight to the death.” It took moment for Radu to understand how his words could be interpreted. “Oi, by ‘this kind of shit’ I…” , A piece of parchment was slapped by the wind on his face. Of course it had to land on my mug. He thought as another gust bowed the thing out of the wagon. “…meant the thing about forcing beliefs.”Ashford concluded in a monotone. “I was not calling your faith or the way you act shit. I swear.” How the Hells did he deal with the drunkards on the Nightingale without starting fights? “Sorry if I came across like an *******, man.”
He said giving up on explaining things. At that point he believed that any further attempt to explain his intentions would only serve to make Geraine truly offended and the whole party would have enough folk wanting they dead by the frontier.
“Thanks, Fletch.”He said happy, well, as happy as Radu Ashford could be, to finally be out of the cart. “I will shut my trap so we don’t risk making Klage pissed to the Abyss so we enter now?”
Notes: Loved the paper hitting Radu's face. It was the kind of detail that can allow to play the character at the Dolorous Edd style.
Geraine smiles stoicly and holds up a hand to show no disdain by the exchange.
"Have no qualms about your opinions. You are to have every bit a voice as another to mine own ears. We are judged by our actions, and I expect as with most that we will have ample opportunity for that in the times to come."
He steps down from the wagon and looks about as he pulls the strap from his shield over his head, swinging it to sit the weight behind him on his pack.
Prologue: The Descent
Unsurprisingly, the cover on the wagon did nothing to stop you from feeling the weight of the beating sun overhead. The path is quite rough, resulting in a bumpy ride which—when combined with the stifling heat—leaves you all in a state of perpetual discomfort*. You haven't seen a road in hours. Just dry, sun-baked, uneven rock as far as the eye can see. An occasional withered shrub protrudes from cracks in the rocky ground. For the whole day, you have heard nothing but the dull, constant plodding of the horses' hooves with the occasional tug of the reins from the wagon driver, a halfling named Fletch.
The letters you each received from Klage contained instructions and a map to the chasm's location. Supposedly, Klage has an outpost located on the West side of the canyon, where the expedition members will meet. Getting there, however, was easier said than done. The canyon seems to be the most popular travel destination in all of Faerun, much to your inconvenience. Travel accommodations were hard to come by. The worry of missing the expedition seemed a very real threat. Luckily, in the city of Yartar, the six of you found Fletch, who agreed to take you in his wagon all the way to the outpost. He himself was going to the canyon anyway to transport supplies to another group of adventurers.
Today marks the sixth day of your journey. Fletch has assured you all that you'll arrive before sunset. However, every minute seems to take five minutes, and the only sound being the hooves of the horses does not help your boredom. Fletch isn't too keen on conversations either. Perhaps the five other strangers** with you in the back of the wagon would make for more interesting talk?
Footnotes
* Torwin is not as quite as bothered by the heat, being cold-blooded and in the shade provided by the covered wagon.
** You all have never met prior to getting on Fletch's wagon.
"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."
Though the heat was indeed affecting her, Fifi's excitement overpowered her discomfort. Throughout the ride, she was often peeking out the wagon's covers to take a look at the scenery, her light brown eyes darting back and forth across the landscape. Every time she did this, the outside heat invaded whatever little cool the wagon managed to retain.
Every bump in the road caused a strand of the satyr's unruly, red hair to fall on her face. In response, she would inflate her cheeks and blow air upwards in an attempt to move the hair away. This method seemed to work half the time. The times it failed was followed by additional attempts until success was had.
As of now, Fifi was tapping her hands on her thighs to the rhythm of the horses' clopping. The young satyr began to hum a sweet tune. It was clear that she was excited about the expedition soon to come.
Visual reference for Fifi:
Ro Aleron (Ro the Red) -> Illithid, Wizard 8 (Chronugist) // AURYN
More than once on his life Radu Ashford had hit rock bottom. Never before he had wished to literally do so. The sun was nothing but a huge source of discomfort. Too bright, too hot, too damn resilient on the skies. Enough to make him understand the choice of dwarves and drow to bury underground. He could barely wait for the night. Or for any sort of darkness, truth be told.
Fletcher had told them the torture would end earlier than that, but on his letter the man had also described himself as an optimist so there would be no surprise if the damn journey took a day or two more. At least no more tourists, the Blood Hunter reflected while taking care of his crossbows as ease as anyone could breathe, despite the bumps on the road. Of course I can do it fast. Now that I want it to take time, I can finish the whole thing without even thinking. Shit.
Showing no satisfaction for a work well done he put the weapons back, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. The satyr’s humming was pleasant, thought he would be damned to lowest of the Hells before admitting it. It could be a problem on the new frontier, Radu knew. An easy noise for anything down there to pick. Hope we at least get a fast death. Last thing he needed was another Bane.
"The Yellow God's light shines quite brightly here.." A tall man pulls back his hood to wipe the sweat from his brow, exposing his olive-tanned skin and snow-white hair. "And you cannot cover up the sun with a sieve.."
The white, red, and gold vestments well-cover the long chainmail hauberk which rattles to the beat of the bumpiness of the road. Tall and broad-shouldered, he strikes a figure resonant of his still young age, however his white hair gives the impression of a far older man. A kite shield normally strapped across his body now propped in front of him - the symbol of the sun blaring outwardly toward the group. The holy symbol around his neck clanks against the inside of his shield as he leans forward.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is Geraine." He quickly scans the group until his gaze lands on the Satyr flicking a loose strand of red hair back out of her face, humming a tune harmonizing with the sounds of the horses hoofs. "Aside from the Great God Amaunator; who, may I ask, blesses this journey with me today?"
Horkur Beren in Tending the Garden
Geraine Lucineous in Onward Down
Rosie had tried multiple times to engage Fletch in conversation: asking him about his life, his dreams, his ambitions. The series of grunts she got in return seems to indicate the fellow had no more goal in life than to drive this wagon. After her latest attempt, she gives up and retreats to the relative cool of the back of the wagon under the canopy. She pulls her grey hair up into a ponytail and smiles at all the others, and when she does so, her whole face crinkles with smile lines. It's easily apparent she has spent a great many years smiling.
"Blimey, it's a hot one. How's everyone doing? Are you all drinking enough water?" She passes out a waterskin to everyone before turning to Geraine. "Nice to meet you Geraine, I'm Rosie. Isn't that nice your God has come with you. How are they handling this heat?" She chuckles a little at her own joke, before looking at the Satyr. "Why that's a nice tune, where is it from?"
Geraine turns his head toward Rosie, holding up a hand pointing to the sky with a hint of smugness. ""
He takes a long pull of water before handing it back. "We are all flowers, of which the Sun's light and heat gives us life. But as the flower - we also need a drink here and there as well! Thank you."
Horkur Beren in Tending the Garden
Geraine Lucineous in Onward Down
Burn sits quietly in the corner of the wagon and watches the others interact. Her gaze resting on Rosie for a moment, she pulls out a small pouch and drops something into her free hand. Anyone looking her way will notice that she appears to be rolling the contents around in a circular motion, before blowing into her closed fist. Without a word, she rolls what appears to be a large marble to the other three corners of the wagon. Anyone within 3 feet of the marbles can feel a cool, refreshing breeze emanating from them. She puts the bag away, deadpan stares at Rosie again for a moment, then begins tinkering with her long ornate stick. (her Blunderbuss for those familiar)
When loading into the wagon Towrin had a couple of bags filled with various items. Mostly, books, paper, ink, pens and the suck. A short lizard folk that doesn't even reach 5 feet tall thyey seem thin and wiry. They quietly get onto the wagon with out saying much unless address or talked to. They seem to be incredibly nervous and opened their mouth to try and say something a couple of times to the others. They eventually give up though and decided to pull a book out of their pack and hide their face behind it. Their legs nervously bouncing as they peak around the side of the book several times as they read to look at the others but never seem to work up the courage to say anything. Torwin seem to enjoy the slight humming tune and lack of social expectation as the ride continues on. They even begin to hum along with the saytr as they read their book.
When the first person talks the yellow and black scaled lizard man ends up jumping in their seat like they were frightened causing them to drop their book on the floor of the wagon. They reach down to grab it saying "S-s-sorry sorry! D-d-didn't mean to." They pick up the book and see that people are greeting each other in the hot heat. The heat is a bit comfortable for Torwin but the bumpy ride very much making them uncomfortable. Torwin seems to stammer even more as they reply "Oh! I'm T-t-torwin." They seem to shrink a bit as if they did something wrong but don't go back to reading their book and seem to be paying attention to the others in the wagon now.
The irregular jostling of the wagon on the uneven terrain causes Burn's augmented marbles to roll around the wagon floor between your feet, creating an erratic pattern of temperature change within the wagon. As one rolls towards the front, Fletch is startled by the sudden cold radiating from behind him, but as he wheels around to peer through the slit in the wagon cover, the marble rolls away.
He speaks briskly, as if the act of speaking is a bothersome task to be finished as quickly as possible. He gestures directly ahead.
From over the bobbing heads of the horses, you can make out a vague, dark shape on the horizon. Against the dark shape are what appear to be several odd rock formations. Thin wisps of smoke rise from some of the rocks. All of this appears to be a little over a mile away.
"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."
Burn watches the marbles roll around as if she is evaluating their effectiveness. She then pulls out a notebook and a thin charcoal stick. Her face contorts with each unintended roll, stopping only to look down and scribble into her notebook.
When the cleric initiated conversation, the satyr stopped her humming though she continued to drum her thighs. "The name's Sophia, but everyone calls me Fifi. A pleasure to meet you too!"
After Geraine takes a sip from Rosie's waterskin, Fifi happily takes it. She brings the mouth of the waterskin to her mouth and begins to tilt the waterskin at a high angle, readying herself to chug as much water as she could. But before she does, the satyr remembers her manners and stopped herself short. In contrast to her near, unsightly actions Fifi makes a point to sip from the waterskin daintily like how she imagined a fair maiden would. Once done, Fifi rests the waterskin on her lap and laughs at her own silliness. She hands the waterskin back to Rosie with a smile, "Thank you, it was just what I needed. The tune's one my mum used to hum all the time. Ain't no special song in particular, just a sweet little melody that reminds me of her. Reminds me of home." Though her words may sound sad, the satyr wears a smile alluding otherwise.
As one of Burn's marble rolls its way over to Fifi, the satyr feels its cold aura. "Now that's an invention for the history books!" the satyr stops the marble with a light step from her hoof and picks it up to examine it. Enjoying the cool, Fifi covers the marble with a fist and rubs it against her cheek. "Aaaaaaah, a wonderful item indeed. Thank you friend, it makes the journey so much more enjoyable." Fifi placed the marble back on the wagon floor, allowing it to continue its journey randomly rolling across the floor.
The satyr looks at Burn, then to Towrin, and then to the bloodhunter (who has yet to introduce themself). She tries to make brief eye contact with each of them before saying, "Everyone here seems like a great bunch! It's a pleasure to be working with y'all!"
Ro Aleron (Ro the Red) -> Illithid, Wizard 8 (Chronugist) // AURYN
Rosie takes back the waterskin after everyone who wants to has taken a sip. She smiles at the cooling marbles rolling around, nods eagerly at the sentiment offered by Fifi, makes her way to the front of the wagon to check that Fletch is OK after speaking a whole two words, and laying a comforting hand on the nervous lizardfolks shoulder as she passes. Once at the front, she steps out from under the canopy to peer at the vista ahead; equal parts nervous, excited and determined at what is in store for them.
She calls back to the others to elaborate a little on Fletch's information: "Yes, about a mile away. Is everyone ready?"
As the marbles start to effect the wagon area with coolness Torwin seems to avoid getting close to them but like Burn he also pulls out another book from his pack putting away the one he was reading and starts to jot down a few notes on whatever they may know of the item as well as their thoughts on the item itself. (Arcana Check: 19) They seem to finish up quickly and then they try to sneak a peek at what Burn is writing doing a terrible job of hiding their curiosity at what they might be writing. He's definitely not a stealthy one but seems to be genuine in his curiosity. They seem too shy to say anything though and when looked at by Burn they will quickly turn away and look nervous.
As the cleric and satyr begin to talk Torwin waits for a pause in their conversation and says "D-d-do you know a-a-any songs f-from your h-h-homel-l-land? ....I've n-n-never heard s-s-satyr music b-b-before." they seem to struggle talking as their stutter seems to be getting worse and worse. Torwin has an awkward pause after asking their question as they begin to think of what they know about satyrs and their history in the world (History Check: 6). The lizard folk seems to think of something and pulls out an item from their pack as they say "Oh! Umm... I-I-I noticed umm... n-n-nevermind." Whatever they had they put it back in their pack.
They seem to fidget a bit then look towards the cleric to try and figure out who they are a cleric of. They mentioned Amaunator and as a distraction for themselves Torwin tries to recall if they know about them and what their tenets of worship are. (Check Religion: 10). It takes a moment and they try to be polite as they nod towards Geraine, "Umm... h-h-how l-l-long... n-n-nevermind." they seem absolutely overwhelmed and uncertain. They look to Rosie as if seeking an answer from them but ultimately the nervous lizard man just looks down at the floor of the wagon and touches their fingers together in a nervous motion.
Torwin can't seem to bring themselves to look at the blood hunter. Not out of disrespect but rather fear of them. When Fletch mentions that we are almost there Torwin looks out the window towards the dark shapes in the distance. When Rosie asks if everyone is ready Torwin quickly scrambles through their pack and gear to make sure everything is there. The mass of papers, books and ink easily heard being shifted around. The lizard folk also checks a small pouch that is held on a belt with them making sure that various odd items are in it, the pull out a feather, a few pieces of rotten food, rose petals and other odd items then put them back in and look to Rosie and says "Y-y-yes. I h-ha-have my things."
Fifi brightens up when asked about music, "Hmm, I don't think satyrs have a specific type of music we'd call our own. We kind of just like a bit of everything, so we play a bit of everything. Typically happy music."
As she talks, Fifi lays a hand on her lute sitting next to her to help make her point.
Ro Aleron (Ro the Red) -> Illithid, Wizard 8 (Chronugist) // AURYN
Geraine glances towards the yellow and black lizardfolk as they attempt to stammer out a question to Fifi. Noticing their nervousness as they start to retrieve an item from their pack before rewinding their actions. (Perception Check: 23 in game log)
As they they turn to Geraine and begin to speak, he steps out of his seat to kneel in front of Torwin, shifting his weight forward against his shield. He takes a moment to allow them to try to get their question out before hearing the "n-n-nevermind". "You always have a voice while near me my scaley little friend." He holds up his holy symbol toward them. "Within the light provided by the Keeper of the Eternal Sun all are judged equally."
"And.." He pauses slightly as he works to stand, briefly taking hold of his holy symbol and casting Thaumaturgy to amplify the sound of his next words directed to Fletch. "Amaunator's blessings be on those who are on-time and punctual."
Horkur Beren in Tending the Garden
Geraine Lucineous in Onward Down
“No bless to give, but the name is Radu.” He said opening his eyes as the cleric basically asked everyone to introduce themselves. In retrospect it was strange that after so many days of travel only now they came to exchange names. The halfling had the wisdom of years and the demeanor of a mother. The Blood Hunter decided he liked her but still refused when the canteen was offered to him. On the desert water was too precious and too limited of a resource for him to take it a moment before feeling absolutely necessary to do so.
The young but white-haired cleric was too optimistic and flowered for his taste while the lizardman was downright curious on the virtue of appearing to be nervous. Wasn’t his kind supposed to not have emotions? Maybe this one is a good actor. Maybe he is waiting the chance to make us into a broth. The thought alone made him imagine which kind of seasoning he would receive.
“Finally.” He said when Fletch pointed their destination. “Are you practicing to recruit people into a cult or something like that?” Radu asked Geraine in response to what he could only see as unnecessary theatricality. It would make a lot of sense if the man intended to use the incursion to spread his faith. Put the infidels under that judgement within the light.
Geraine's eyes quickly dart to Radu, then soften slightly under an expression of contempt. "Sometimes, it is the night which makes one truly appreciate the light. How long, I wonder, will you take to miss the sun once we ascend into the darkness?" His face softens further into a subtle smirk. "I look forward to our excursion, but I will repeat.." He again holds up his holy symbol. "Within the light provided by the Keeper of the Eternal Sun, all, are judged equally."
Horkur Beren in Tending the Garden
Geraine Lucineous in Onward Down
Drawing nearer to the dark shape in the distance, you can finally see what it is. The canyon. Over half a mile wide, and unspeakably deep, it stretches so far across the sun-baked land that you can't see the other end from the wagon. Getting closer, the wagon rides along the long side of the canyon, about fifty feet from the edge, preventing you from looking into its depths.
As Torwin rifles through their supplies, a piece of loose blank parchment is caught in a sudden gust of wind, causing it to fly and promptly plant itself in Radu's face, before being blown out the back of the wagon, drifting towards the chasm, and sinking out of site.
As you get nearer to what appeared to be rock formations, you realize that they are not rocks. Dotting the landscape along the edge of the canyon are hundreds (perhaps thousands) of tents, carts, wagons, and some crude huts. Amidst these are what could only be adventurers. Thousands of adventurers. More than you've ever seen in one place before. Packing and unpacking supplies, huddling in circles to discuss plans, trading amongst each other, laughing, arguing, and making their way towards the chasm. Several winch-and-pully contraptions have been arranged on the very edge of the chasm, from which adventurers make their slow descent into the cavernous depths.
As Fletch's wagon passes all of these things, you can see another, larger structure standing separate from all the other campsites. A house, two stories tall, constructed in an L-shape, standing only thirty feet from the edge of the chasm. It appears newly built, with no trace of decay in the wooden framework, and no dirt on the red tiled roof. Multiple round windows dot the exterior, curtains drawn over them, hiding the interior. On the inner side of the short end of the "L" is what appears to be the main entrance: a pair of varnished, ornately carved double-doors.
Not a single soul in sight.
Fletch stops his wagon near the doors. Stepping down from the rider's seat of the wagon, he waddled around to the back, undoing a latch and causing a wooden platform to drop, creating a ramp to allow for easy exit from the back of the wagon.
Notes:
Torwin's Arcana check: Examining the marble, Torwin instantly recognizes its abnormal properties as being the result of an artificer's craft, magically augmented to radiate a refreshing cold.
Torwin's History check: From what Torwin can recall on the origins of satyrs, he knows that they originate from the Feywild, but occupy many forest regions across Faerun, particularly in the North.
Torwin's Religion check: Torwin distinctly recalls information on the Chruch of Amaunator from a book he read recently. Amaunator was the ancient Netherese God of the Sun, also holding domain over concepts of law and order, as well as time. The Chruch was once much larger, but after the fall of the Netherese Empire, their numbers dwindled. It is believed by some that the gods Lathander and Amaunator are one and the same, thus part of the Church remains as a sect of the Church of Lathander.
The dogma of Amaunator's worshipers places heavy emphasis on the law, which they believe to be the most vital force in civilization. Initiates of the Church are taught to follow the law meticulously.
Geraine's Perception check: The lizardfolk seems to have nothing out of the ordinary among their possessions. Just books, ink, pens, and loose parchment.
"Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."
“I prefer the nights when they are darker and to satiate your wondering, as long as we have dim light I won’t miss the source of excessive heat.” The Blood Hunter said entirely unconvinced by the cleric’s words. “Believe what you will, but don’t go forcing your doctrine into others. Specially not down there. This kind of shit can start a fight to the death.” It took moment for Radu to understand how his words could be interpreted. “Oi, by ‘this kind of shit’ I…” , A piece of parchment was slapped by the wind on his face. Of course it had to land on my mug. He thought as another gust bowed the thing out of the wagon. “…meant the thing about forcing beliefs.” Ashford concluded in a monotone. “I was not calling your faith or the way you act shit. I swear.” How the Hells did he deal with the drunkards on the Nightingale without starting fights? “Sorry if I came across like an *******, man.”
He said giving up on explaining things. At that point he believed that any further attempt to explain his intentions would only serve to make Geraine truly offended and the whole party would have enough folk wanting they dead by the frontier.
“Thanks, Fletch.” He said happy, well, as happy as Radu Ashford could be, to finally be out of the cart. “I will shut my trap so we don’t risk making Klage pissed to the Abyss so we enter now?”
Notes: Loved the paper hitting Radu's face. It was the kind of detail that can allow to play the character at the Dolorous Edd style.
Geraine smiles stoicly and holds up a hand to show no disdain by the exchange.
"Have no qualms about your opinions. You are to have every bit a voice as another to mine own ears. We are judged by our actions, and I expect as with most that we will have ample opportunity for that in the times to come."
He steps down from the wagon and looks about as he pulls the strap from his shield over his head, swinging it to sit the weight behind him on his pack.
"I expect we do.."
Horkur Beren in Tending the Garden
Geraine Lucineous in Onward Down