Frostbite hefted the Rune Keeper onto his shoulder and walked past the blood spattered about the floor and walls following Wilcox, Torke, Sam and Prosinet to the Wizard's tower, now once again in its former location. Frostbite looks up at the tower, just shakes his head at the nonsense of Wizards, and enters the building.
Everyone else follows inside, the evening having grown intensely cold and dark after the dragon left. Frostbite heaves the bearded one onto his chair, and lets Wilcox funnel a red liquid down his throat. Wilcox steps to the back of the room and The Rune Keeper pops up awake and alert, but not as quickly as you'd think for magical healing. The wound did not disappear entirely, it merely ceased heavily bleeding and became a deep and heavy scar around the majority of it that did seal.
He immediately starts to elaborate about the dragon's favor, as he quickly noticed that Frostbite seemed to posses it again. Any friend of that specific frost wyrm may call upon it and it will answer. Grabbing it at full strength would have asked for its strength in return, but offering the favor back in its home did something entirely unexpected. He thanks Frostbite profusely for carrying him back, and for defending the dragon. He offers to explain the lineage of Dragons to Dragonborn to give a glimpse at how close they are, but doesn't presume to lecture him without asking first.
The Wizards's really quiet amazed that Frostbite happened to come when he did, and says so plainly. Things just seemed to happen the right way, and it was marvelous that it turned out so. He clearly has no regrets that Angvald ended up a bloody smear, and joins Frostbite in moving passed his existence, not mentioning him once.
Once the pleasantries are over and the Rune Keeper has shook all of the hands, and thanked all of the faces, he gestured about the place offering to explain anything in the room before seeing the man at the back of the room.
With a nod a wave, the Rune keeper dismisses Wilcox. The defeated man staying silent nearly the entire walk and most certainly while the Wizard was speaking, Wilcox doesn't even lift his head as he opens the door and walks out. He left for the Apothecary you all saw him in earlier, and went to climb to the room above where he'd be staying.
You all have some time to explore the town again, there's a couple of inns nearby, and the Wizard gives you each 100 gold for your troubles. As you all were walking in, you noticed that there were more than a few lighted windows, and even a door or two was open. Though the town may have fled earlier, many have returned, much as those used to living in an river with a river that floods.
Before everyone manages to go, the Rune Keeper reaches out and grabs Prosinet's shoulder as he's about to leave. Being one of the last to leave, as he was in awe at the many writings, incantations and recipes upon the walls and tables, Prosinet is the only one to hear him.
Prosinet Only,
“It deeply concerns me that you carry around that book like its just another trinket. You've clearly allied yourself with some capable people, so I'll grant you that, but I'll have to insist that you join the mage's guild. It will grant you certain...opportunities...and I'll help you learn more about some of the books later contents. If you don't, I insist that you keep that book better hidden. I didn't even have to detect the magic to feel it.
Sam happily collects the coins, nodding to the Rune Keeper. "Thanks." He turns toward his companions, and not really having anything insightful to offer, gestures toward the town. "Anyone up for a drink?"
Sam recalls the inn, tavern, and three bars they passed walking in. One has sleeping quarters for a decent price, one has beer for a decent price, and the other three are bars sure to be filled with "did you see that?!?" citizens. By this point (about 8 at night) they are probably in the best of spirits, having just switched the harder drinks from beer kegs. All and all, a drink surely sounded like a grand suggestion.
This book? Prosinet taps the book in his bag. "Yes it is quite curios, as all of this is. I would be interested in the guild for sure. What are the requirements?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
-Joining and not joining have significant consequences but only one requirement. You must wear a silver and blue pin, everywhere, to symbolize that you are a mage guild initiate.
-The consequences will not directly harm you but as an example there are advantages and disadvantages to being in associated with them as well as differing responses to your choice from the Rune Keeper.
[After Frostbite chooses to speak with Runekeeper or not, and after Prosinet decides to join the guild or not, and after any questions are asked about the Rune Keeper's room or not, you all leave to walk about the town]
Open Shops:
"By the River" Inn, at the beginning of the town there is a large building with five windows, three on top, two on the bottom. A wooden door sits beneath the upper middle window. Inside, there is only a small room, with two more doors leading the the guests rooms and leading to the office. They say they have four rooms you can stay in for 1 gold a night, and that they are well stocked with nice linens, comfortable storage, and, surprisingly, running hot water. Each room has a single large bed, a nightstand, a candle, a window, a bathroom, and a table with two chairs.
"Shelled by Shore" Tavern, not even a stones throw away, a much small building of one front window on the bottom next to the front door and two side windows on top. There is a bar behind the front door and seating room behind the front window. At the back of this room, lies a single stair case to the right of a door. They lead upstairs and make a sharp U into a hallway with two doors. Each leads to a room for rent. Perhaps not so surprisingly, a Tortle named "Shore" is the bartender and owner who says the rooms are passable. The room on the right, the bed sits directly above the bar, and the room on the left, sits directly above the bathroom. There is nothing in the rooms except that window, clean bed with clean linen, and a chair with a candle on it. Finally, He says they are free, if you come drink or eat there and spend at least a gold, first come first serve.
You come to a group of closed shops that make up the majority of the town,
Closed Shops: [Basically the town is closed except for those renting rooms or serving liquor]
Apothecary (not really, but no lights are on, and only the group would know that the door is not locked)
Thieves, Mages, Crafting, and other Guild Halls
Armorer\Forge, Tailor, and other equipment shops
Clockmaker, tinkerer, jeweler, and other trinket shops,
Fish, Cheese, Wine, and most traders and merchant stalls shops
A little farther down passed the closed shops, lies the bar district. Its a cul-de-sac of the three places that serve expressly alcohol, and unsurprisingly they were all open.
"No Name" Bar 1, The first is an unassuming wooden shack that looks unstable. It has no windows, and the front door creaks open. Inside its lit dimly by lanterns handing from the ceiling, there are no tables, and the bar has seven wooden stools, with a darkened opening where a door should be at the end of the bar and back of the room. One leading to the storage, the other leading to the restroom. The gruff gentlemen standing behind the bar is actually quiet respectful when speaking, and offers to serve extremely potent liquor at a fraction of what it should cost.
"Ten Arrows" Bar 2, Next door is a much grander place, with ornate carvings around the five windows and a huge wooden door in the middle with two handles, this building dominates the space its in and commands attention over the other two establishments. A large orc stands outside these doors and responding to the groups asking to "just look around" he smirks and lets one of you in. Inside, there are eight tables worth of seating room, with more than enough visitors to fill them. The light that is being let in through each window is shaded a different color from the stained glass. The bar and entire building is exclusively staffed by female elfs, who do not reveal the cost of anything you do not intend to purchase. With a sly wink and grin, they respond "No samples" as you as walked out of the building with two of them on each of your arms. The rest of you are not admitted unless you intend to spend a hefty amount of gold, the Orc raising five large fingers in the air, a clear symbol of the cost.
"Dry Docks" Bar 3, those of you that could move on from such temptation come to the most reasonable of places. A small, but sturdy place, the one door, one window, building is actually quiet comfortable. The furniture, shelves, walls, ceiling and floors clearly were cut from the nearby trees, and made here to accommodate this place. The dwarf behind the counter offers you well made beer and a good cost
For the stragglers who did not want to drink, sleep, or wander about closed shops, there is a final shop at the end of the town, a little ways down the road.
"Jim's" By the river, and far away from the bridge when you look down it, it must be nearly midnight as you walk up to the place. Yet, there was still a candle on in the single window. Walking inside showed nothing more than fishing rods, different kinds of bait, and an old man reading a book. He says you get 20 pounds of bait (20 rolls) free if you buy a rod, a rod is 1 gold. Bait without a rod is 1 gold per 20 pounds (20 rolls). You can also buy a hat for 25 gold. He says it would help you with fishing, but he also says that you'd be "buying luck" so take it with a grain of salt. Any visit to the shop, whether you buy or not, also gets you access to his pier on the river behind it. With that, he picks his book back up and waits for you to make a decision, or not.
"I do not mind of any location that we stay, but I am not comfortable in these far-too—" he cuts off his words as he reaches for the word, "lavish, buildings. I can sleep well in the woods if necessary, and provide food via small game or berries that I may taste for poisonous properties," all of his words seem genuine and matter-of-factly while he naturally ignores the presence of the "Ten Arrows", instead driving his focus to his companions' expressions and interests of where to go. Otherwise than a required rest, he seems to be well-off compared to some of his companions that are perhaps winded or are reaching exhaustion via exceptional needs or strain.
He seemed to have almost briskly made his own way to the tannery when he noticed that the many stalls of this village had simply closed for the night, leaving him to only follow his party members. He dons his usual attire of the nomadic yet familiar dull-brown leathers, which upon further inspection, expands down to an area close to his knee, and a layer of silk seems to have been applied to the overall resilience and comfort of the armor and clothing itself. The animal-cured hide scabbard stowing his longsword, and the clearly self-made knapsack behind and strapped on to his person at the moment. His features stay roughly the same as his snake scales that populate his fair-white skinned arms glisten within the moonlight of the time at this moment.
"Mr Runekeeper is it?" Prosinet strokes his chin, "The safety of a guild sounds great to me! You see I am a bit if a coward... but also insatiably curious, so I couldn't have the guild affecting my research you see. As long as I am allowed to study whatever I wish, mostly alchemy you see, then where do I sign up?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
With Prosinets response in mind, the Rune Keeper hands him a pin signifying that he is a mages guild initiate. Applying it to your clothes makes you feel dignified, accepted. Like wearing a suit in business, the pin just kind of makes you feel like the "offfical authority on the subject" instantly while discussing magic.
(+2 on CHA/INT/WIS rolls for Arcane while wearing the ping)
Its obvious that he trusts you a little more now and let's you know that the author of the book is also a mages guild Rune Keeper. He specifically states that while some contributions have been made by members and nonmembers, the author who complied it was this other very high ranking member.
He says that magic is capable of great things, and that you should always assume the scope of your actions as effecting, at least, the nearest 100 mile area when exterminating. With the book in particular, he suggests to stay on chapter 2, as 3 and 4 have no positive benefits. He eyes you up and down, carefully, and says,
"There is an entire kingdom of Drow that no longer speak beyond moans because of chapter 3. Abandon hopes of such dark wizardry being practiced "safely" behind closed doors, in the darkest of hideouts. It cannot be done."
He then allows you to leave with your companions, blowing out his candle as you are in the doorway, staring back at you briefly through smoke and shadow before you close the door.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Torke Aldrehas
Impatient with waiting for his companions to do more than idling by, Torke strides forth to the [REDACTED], not minding his acquaintances to bring the need for them to follow him as he attempts to be exceptionally hidden while he carries onward, all the while hiding his snake scales that would otherwise be detrimental to doing so. Whether hidden or not, Torke slides through the entrance of the structure, and offers a quick overview of his actions and a moment to confide with his patron soul-bounded to the sword he accompanies himself with now and perhaps for quite a while; he seems to want to understand if his patron has been satiated with its need to consume the metal it took back in the forest.
[REDACTED] happens to be the Apothecary. I have little idea of how to work around the groups' perception check, but maybe the passive perception from each of them is enough for this?
As before, Torke slinks off into an darkened area out of sight without notice. The sword begs, NEEDS, to touch the metal once again, but this time something is different. The metal isn't shinning as it was, and feels...hollow? It feels like it weighs less than it should, and in your grip it feels...despair?
The sword pulses again with this need to touch the metal.
The night came and went, deals were made and deals were walked away from. With the passing of this time, you all feel well rested regardless of what you were doing. As noon approaches, Wilcox strolls about the town, vision renewed and enthusiasm restored. He was ready to approach the mountain, and ascend to the top to show them what he was talking about.
He stood by the wine barrel for a time, and then went to walk to the edge of town, in the drection of the mountain. He looked, and then went back the apothecary reasoning that was where you'd assume he would be.
Sam makes his way over to the apothecary, guessing that is where they would find Wilcox. "Are we ready to head out?" he asks. He looks through the doorway and off toward the mountain.
Hands on his hips in blatant confidence, he declares proudly that, yes, he was ready to overcome the obstacles and witness the special occasion once again. With the business with Angvald settled, he shoved a hand at an imaginary idea being pushed aside, and spoke thusly,
"I can imagine that won't be the last of the Rune Keeper's ire ill be facing before we see this out, but I am determined to complete our journey no matter what."
With eyes in the same direction, and a cheeky grin on his face, he stood with Sam for the others, briefly discussing the smaller points of alchemy with him.
As they look about, there are all the new colored liquids and glasses the apothecary brought out with the opening of the town. He explains that alchemy is one part labratory science and one part psychological attunement.
He points to an elixir of "fire" and explains further. It is simply, a very flammable liquid mixed with a very adhesive substance. But, if done on the right day, at the right time of day, and in the right mindset, suddenly, its the elixir of fire, capable of so much more than "sticky alcohol." Suddenly, its a weapon of war, not desperation.
"Its either very cleaver business strategy, or alchemists draw on some deep seeded arcane roots of all existence by acknowledging the individuality of something, asking for its permission to change its place in the universe, then doing so"
He thinks about it for a moment,
"Sounds rather religious in my opinion. In any case, i can be said that its about more than just following a recipe."
He thinks some more,
"I wonder if you applied the same to other crafts, if they would respond in kind?"
He looks at Sam, a little embarrassed,
"Ah, I seem to have gone on for far too long. Why didn't you stop me?"
He laughs lightly, then jumps up,
"You know i never asked, how did you all get split up?"
Wilcox eventually did lead them to the mountain, through the town of mountain dwarves. It was there that the myth ended for Sam and Prosinet, whose lives went in very different directions.
Sam decided at the mine that the Dwarves were offering him a place among the best smiths in the world, having proved himself a master smith and expert of the sword. Slaying the dragon had not gone unnoticed, and, as a part of the group, he was awarded more than his share of prestige and honor, staying behind and waving at the group as they walked into the never ending winter of the Mountain pass. His life was well and very prosperous, meeting his end at old age, still in battle, against a never ending fire that burned the dwarven forge to the ground. The dwarves that returned in part dedicated their new forge "Smithwell" to this legendary master, whose valiant efforts saved many lives.
There, before the blustering wind and impossibly tall peaks, a voice beckoned to Prosinet from the trees off the mountain. It was here that Wilcox parted ways from Torke and Frostbite, assuring them that he was needed elsewhere, but that it was imperative they reach the top. He bid them each good luck, and chased the wandering wizard into the forest below.
Though he was inexperienced in the ways of magic, Prosinet was already an alchemical genius, deciphering the code on his mysterious text. He did so just as they reached the mountain pass, and a voice called out to his innermost desire of knowledge and power, bidding him to enter the trees. As he did, he felt a warming, welcoming sensation of energy flow through him till he reached the first of the green trees.
He walked up to this place, between the Winter forest at his back and the green of well watered Fir trees to his front, contemplating why he was stopped there. A pool of water in the immediate center between the too was there, and the book bid him capture in the vial. He did so, and as he did, the water disappeared inside, the rest quickly freezing over. The water inside the vial was such a brilliant crystal blue. "Drink it." Something said. Prosinet looked about, and there was nothing about that could have made such noise. The book rattled about in his arms, flung itself to the floor and opened to the third chapter. "DRINK IT." It rang out again, louder than seemed possible without seeing its source. Prosinet contemplated the choice, and as he did Wilcox finally caught up with him. The book slammed shut. Wilcox walked up, and stepped on it. He held his hand out to Prosinet for the vial, and what happened after that, nobody expected.
Wilcox held his hand out to Prosinet, and Prosinet refused. A battle ensued as Prosinet drank the vial and overpowered Wilcox, knocking him to the ground. Prosinet held his hand out, and felt a vile gas release itself from his palm. It felt lightening, like he was losing part of himself as it left his body. His weight, his form, his senses. He felt...nothing.
The gas was a pestilence, rotting the land about him, causing the floor, grass, trees, water, snow, bushes, everything to wither and die. Wilcox leaped back over the frozen puddle between the convergence Prosinet drew the water from and put up a protective barrier. The book, forgotten by Wilcox in the rush of action, slammed open to the fourth chapter, and from the pool, a lich ripped forth, sending Wilcox screaming into the treeline. The undead lord walked up to Prosinet, the newest of his apprentices, and held a hand to his shoulder.
Frostbite and Torke continued up the mountain, drawn by something one could only call inspiration or divine communication. Drawn to the peak by this will and call, about halfway through each agreed they could go no further without rest. Days had gone by without food, drinking the melted snow as water. At one point, Frostbite noticed Torke drawing power from chunks of metal that are strewn about the mountain. Knowing that he needed help to survive this harsh climate, Torke finally told Frostbite about his sword, and the metal. At first, he had no issue with this and the days continued to be long and arduous.
They encountered a body, a monk by the look of it, decaying in a cave from long ago. He is alive, but barely, and he explains that beads around his neck have kept him alive for centuries. He explains that he no longer has the muscle to lift them off his neck, and that he wishes to die. Torke and Frostbite consider the situation for a moment. Torke needs this energy to make his sword what it should be, and the man is going to die anyway. Dubious, Frostbite allowed him to kill the man, who thanked them, and they left the cave without a word.
Farther up the mountain, his consciousness began to eat at Frostbite. He had killed a warrior who sought renown, worked for wizards that used him as a plaything, met a beast that felt a kinship with him, and watched his traveling companion execute an elder. Standing in the wind, feeling nothing due to his heritage, Frostbite looked to the sky and clouds below them now. Empty, so empty like when he was flying, nothing but stars and dark blue space. It was an empty world now, even here in the fulfilling of destiny.
Further they marched, nearing the peak and coming into air so thin it was hard to breath. At the top, they gazed into the widest array in the world, viewing star patterns only visible on the other sides of the world this time of year. Their mission fulfilled, they looked to each other, unsure of what to do. They began to descend and as they did Torke's sword vibrates heavily, and Frostbite noticed Torke was distracted. He knew what that meant, Torke was arguing with his patron. It was something that had become increasingly common as they came closer to the top, and even Torke was unsure at times of himself, a most uncommon thing for him.
The ground shook, and each of them turned round, on guard for whatever came next. Torke shouted in violent protest, throwing his sword to the ground causing him to reel back in pain. The ground shook once again, much more violently this time, knocking them each to the ground, Torke's hand clasping the sword when he fell. He screamed once more, Frostbite leaping into a combat pose. Torke rose to his feet calmly, as if he was no longer at war with whatever force was in his blade, and assumed a similar combat pose.
Greater force was at work once again, and Frostbite's hatred of the strings that pulled them pushed him to rage. Here, at the top of the world, after going through so much and fulfilling each calling, now he was asked to combat his last remaining traveling companion. They fought, for hours, back and forth, eventually climbing to the peak. A ragged Torke through violet lightning bolts cracking the rocks and shattering the surroundings. Frostbite bobbed and weaved but he stood no chance on open ground. Once the covering was gone, he knew it was over. He put everything he had into a mighty yell, and leaped from the explosion of the last boulder he could hide behind.
His mighty ax slammed into the ground, his struggle finally over. Destiny would hold his strings no more, and he would not slay the warlock. Torke drew his sword, and struck the mighty barbarian down, sending his sword high into the air, a dark energy pulsing froth from it. The mountain peak surged and cracked and shook a third and final time, and from below Torke felt he had awakened something beneath Chult, and whatever it was was ancient, and evil. His sword laughed, and floated out of Torke's reach, high into the air, before reversing about and striking him down. The last thing he heard were the Raven Queen's words, “The next time this sword is drawn, the world will end.” It was indeed, the most powerful sword in the entire world.
He saw white. Then clouds of pink and orange. A heavenly place, a place of peace. And far in the distance, a small break of blue. Moments later it came back, a little bigger, then disappeared. Again, then again, till it was large enough to see that it was no break or pause in the clouds, but something approaching. Something so impossibly large that even at great distance it could be seen. A spiraling snakelike form twisted forth from the ether, it's gaping maw and yellow eyes fixed on Torke's gaze. Torke heard the screams of the smith who made his weapon, the laughs of the raven queen, and the roar of the Night Serpent as its jaws closed upon his soul.
Far atop the peak, the blade sat embedded in the rock. The bodies gone, the mountain slept once again.
When Wilcox returned to his mansion, he acted as if everything would be well and fine. He would send for more adventurers. They took care of Angvald, maybe this too could be fixed. He simply would have to get back to the mountain another time.
For years he chased after the mad mage, and wherever Prosinet and the Lich went, they were stalked by Wilcox's agents. As a part of the Mages guild, Prosinet was initially harbored and protected by them but even they could not stand to the might of the assembled guilds of the North, whose wizards, warlocks and druids made up most of the Mages guild. They hunted him down and slayed the lich, and imprisoned Prosinet.
That day, a tired and drained Wilcox looked up at the sky outside his mansion and removed all of his metal pieces he wore for so many years. He laid down in his bed and contemplated how he never went back to the mountain, and how he never saw Frostbite or Torke again. With some regret, but mostly satisfied with a life well lived, he left all of his worldly belongings to the people that worked for or with him that they wanted, and donated the rest to adventurers and the guilds that support them. An hour later, he too, passed into legend.
“For the adventurers of the future, may they ever solve the problems the past creates.”
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Frostbite hefted the Rune Keeper onto his shoulder and walked past the blood spattered about the floor and walls following Wilcox, Torke, Sam and Prosinet to the Wizard's tower, now once again in its former location. Frostbite looks up at the tower, just shakes his head at the nonsense of Wizards, and enters the building.
Everyone else follows inside, the evening having grown intensely cold and dark after the dragon left. Frostbite heaves the bearded one onto his chair, and lets Wilcox funnel a red liquid down his throat. Wilcox steps to the back of the room and The Rune Keeper pops up awake and alert, but not as quickly as you'd think for magical healing. The wound did not disappear entirely, it merely ceased heavily bleeding and became a deep and heavy scar around the majority of it that did seal.
He immediately starts to elaborate about the dragon's favor, as he quickly noticed that Frostbite seemed to posses it again. Any friend of that specific frost wyrm may call upon it and it will answer. Grabbing it at full strength would have asked for its strength in return, but offering the favor back in its home did something entirely unexpected. He thanks Frostbite profusely for carrying him back, and for defending the dragon. He offers to explain the lineage of Dragons to Dragonborn to give a glimpse at how close they are, but doesn't presume to lecture him without asking first.
The Wizards's really quiet amazed that Frostbite happened to come when he did, and says so plainly. Things just seemed to happen the right way, and it was marvelous that it turned out so. He clearly has no regrets that Angvald ended up a bloody smear, and joins Frostbite in moving passed his existence, not mentioning him once.
Once the pleasantries are over and the Rune Keeper has shook all of the hands, and thanked all of the faces, he gestured about the place offering to explain anything in the room before seeing the man at the back of the room.
With a nod a wave, the Rune keeper dismisses Wilcox. The defeated man staying silent nearly the entire walk and most certainly while the Wizard was speaking, Wilcox doesn't even lift his head as he opens the door and walks out. He left for the Apothecary you all saw him in earlier, and went to climb to the room above where he'd be staying.
You all have some time to explore the town again, there's a couple of inns nearby, and the Wizard gives you each 100 gold for your troubles. As you all were walking in, you noticed that there were more than a few lighted windows, and even a door or two was open. Though the town may have fled earlier, many have returned, much as those used to living in an river with a river that floods.
Before everyone manages to go, the Rune Keeper reaches out and grabs Prosinet's shoulder as he's about to leave. Being one of the last to leave, as he was in awe at the many writings, incantations and recipes upon the walls and tables, Prosinet is the only one to hear him.
Prosinet Only,
“It deeply concerns me that you carry around that book like its just another trinket. You've clearly allied yourself with some capable people, so I'll grant you that, but I'll have to insist that you join the mage's guild. It will grant you certain...opportunities...and I'll help you learn more about some of the books later contents. If you don't, I insist that you keep that book better hidden. I didn't even have to detect the magic to feel it.
Join the mages guild?
Sam happily collects the coins, nodding to the Rune Keeper. "Thanks." He turns toward his companions, and not really having anything insightful to offer, gestures toward the town. "Anyone up for a drink?"
DM - Above & Below
Sam recalls the inn, tavern, and three bars they passed walking in. One has sleeping quarters for a decent price, one has beer for a decent price, and the other three are bars sure to be filled with "did you see that?!?" citizens. By this point (about 8 at night) they are probably in the best of spirits, having just switched the harder drinks from beer kegs. All and all, a drink surely sounded like a grand suggestion.
This book? Prosinet taps the book in his bag. "Yes it is quite curios, as all of this is. I would be interested in the guild for sure. What are the requirements?
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
Prosinet,
-Joining and not joining have significant consequences but only one requirement. You must wear a silver and blue pin, everywhere, to symbolize that you are a mage guild initiate.
-The consequences will not directly harm you but as an example there are advantages and disadvantages to being in associated with them as well as differing responses to your choice from the Rune Keeper.
[After Frostbite chooses to speak with Runekeeper or not, and after Prosinet decides to join the guild or not, and after any questions are asked about the Rune Keeper's room or not, you all leave to walk about the town]
Open Shops:
"By the River" Inn, at the beginning of the town there is a large building with five windows, three on top, two on the bottom. A wooden door sits beneath the upper middle window. Inside, there is only a small room, with two more doors leading the the guests rooms and leading to the office. They say they have four rooms you can stay in for 1 gold a night, and that they are well stocked with nice linens, comfortable storage, and, surprisingly, running hot water. Each room has a single large bed, a nightstand, a candle, a window, a bathroom, and a table with two chairs.
"Shelled by Shore" Tavern, not even a stones throw away, a much small building of one front window on the bottom next to the front door and two side windows on top. There is a bar behind the front door and seating room behind the front window. At the back of this room, lies a single stair case to the right of a door. They lead upstairs and make a sharp U into a hallway with two doors. Each leads to a room for rent. Perhaps not so surprisingly, a Tortle named "Shore" is the bartender and owner who says the rooms are passable. The room on the right, the bed sits directly above the bar, and the room on the left, sits directly above the bathroom. There is nothing in the rooms except that window, clean bed with clean linen, and a chair with a candle on it. Finally, He says they are free, if you come drink or eat there and spend at least a gold, first come first serve.
You come to a group of closed shops that make up the majority of the town,
Closed Shops: [Basically the town is closed except for those renting rooms or serving liquor]
Apothecary (not really, but no lights are on, and only the group would know that the door is not locked)
Thieves, Mages, Crafting, and other Guild Halls
Armorer\Forge, Tailor, and other equipment shops
Clockmaker, tinkerer, jeweler, and other trinket shops,
Fish, Cheese, Wine, and most traders and merchant stalls shops
A little farther down passed the closed shops, lies the bar district. Its a cul-de-sac of the three places that serve expressly alcohol, and unsurprisingly they were all open.
"No Name" Bar 1, The first is an unassuming wooden shack that looks unstable. It has no windows, and the front door creaks open. Inside its lit dimly by lanterns handing from the ceiling, there are no tables, and the bar has seven wooden stools, with a darkened opening where a door should be at the end of the bar and back of the room. One leading to the storage, the other leading to the restroom. The gruff gentlemen standing behind the bar is actually quiet respectful when speaking, and offers to serve extremely potent liquor at a fraction of what it should cost.
"Ten Arrows" Bar 2, Next door is a much grander place, with ornate carvings around the five windows and a huge wooden door in the middle with two handles, this building dominates the space its in and commands attention over the other two establishments. A large orc stands outside these doors and responding to the groups asking to "just look around" he smirks and lets one of you in. Inside, there are eight tables worth of seating room, with more than enough visitors to fill them. The light that is being let in through each window is shaded a different color from the stained glass. The bar and entire building is exclusively staffed by female elfs, who do not reveal the cost of anything you do not intend to purchase. With a sly wink and grin, they respond "No samples" as you as walked out of the building with two of them on each of your arms. The rest of you are not admitted unless you intend to spend a hefty amount of gold, the Orc raising five large fingers in the air, a clear symbol of the cost.
"Dry Docks" Bar 3, those of you that could move on from such temptation come to the most reasonable of places. A small, but sturdy place, the one door, one window, building is actually quiet comfortable. The furniture, shelves, walls, ceiling and floors clearly were cut from the nearby trees, and made here to accommodate this place. The dwarf behind the counter offers you well made beer and a good cost
For the stragglers who did not want to drink, sleep, or wander about closed shops, there is a final shop at the end of the town, a little ways down the road.
"Jim's" By the river, and far away from the bridge when you look down it, it must be nearly midnight as you walk up to the place. Yet, there was still a candle on in the single window. Walking inside showed nothing more than fishing rods, different kinds of bait, and an old man reading a book. He says you get 20 pounds of bait (20 rolls) free if you buy a rod, a rod is 1 gold. Bait without a rod is 1 gold per 20 pounds (20 rolls). You can also buy a hat for 25 gold. He says it would help you with fishing, but he also says that you'd be "buying luck" so take it with a grain of salt. Any visit to the shop, whether you buy or not, also gets you access to his pier on the river behind it. With that, he picks his book back up and waits for you to make a decision, or not.
Torke Aldrehas
"I do not mind of any location that we stay, but I am not comfortable in these far-too—" he cuts off his words as he reaches for the word, "lavish, buildings. I can sleep well in the woods if necessary, and provide food via small game or berries that I may taste for poisonous properties," all of his words seem genuine and matter-of-factly while he naturally ignores the presence of the "Ten Arrows", instead driving his focus to his companions' expressions and interests of where to go. Otherwise than a required rest, he seems to be well-off compared to some of his companions that are perhaps winded or are reaching exhaustion via exceptional needs or strain.
He seemed to have almost briskly made his own way to the tannery when he noticed that the many stalls of this village had simply closed for the night, leaving him to only follow his party members. He dons his usual attire of the nomadic yet familiar dull-brown leathers, which upon further inspection, expands down to an area close to his knee, and a layer of silk seems to have been applied to the overall resilience and comfort of the armor and clothing itself. The animal-cured hide scabbard stowing his longsword, and the clearly self-made knapsack behind and strapped on to his person at the moment. His features stay roughly the same as his snake scales that populate his fair-white skinned arms glisten within the moonlight of the time at this moment.
"Mr Runekeeper is it?" Prosinet strokes his chin, "The safety of a guild sounds great to me! You see I am a bit if a coward... but also insatiably curious, so I couldn't have the guild affecting my research you see. As long as I am allowed to study whatever I wish, mostly alchemy you see, then where do I sign up?"
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
With Prosinets response in mind, the Rune Keeper hands him a pin signifying that he is a mages guild initiate. Applying it to your clothes makes you feel dignified, accepted. Like wearing a suit in business, the pin just kind of makes you feel like the "offfical authority on the subject" instantly while discussing magic.
(+2 on CHA/INT/WIS rolls for Arcane while wearing the ping)
Its obvious that he trusts you a little more now and let's you know that the author of the book is also a mages guild Rune Keeper. He specifically states that while some contributions have been made by members and nonmembers, the author who complied it was this other very high ranking member.
He says that magic is capable of great things, and that you should always assume the scope of your actions as effecting, at least, the nearest 100 mile area when exterminating. With the book in particular, he suggests to stay on chapter 2, as 3 and 4 have no positive benefits. He eyes you up and down, carefully, and says,
"There is an entire kingdom of Drow that no longer speak beyond moans because of chapter 3. Abandon hopes of such dark wizardry being practiced "safely" behind closed doors, in the darkest of hideouts. It cannot be done."
He then allows you to leave with your companions, blowing out his candle as you are in the doorway, staring back at you briefly through smoke and shadow before you close the door.
Torke Aldrehas
Impatient with waiting for his companions to do more than idling by, Torke strides forth to the [REDACTED], not minding his acquaintances to bring the need for them to follow him as he attempts to be exceptionally hidden while he carries onward, all the while hiding his snake scales that would otherwise be detrimental to doing so. Whether hidden or not, Torke slides through the entrance of the structure, and offers a quick overview of his actions and a moment to confide with his patron soul-bounded to the sword he accompanies himself with now and perhaps for quite a while; he seems to want to understand if his patron has been satiated with its need to consume the metal it took back in the forest.
Stealth: roll vaue- 16
[DM Eyes only]
[REDACTED] happens to be the Apothecary. I have little idea of how to work around the groups' perception check, but maybe the passive perception from each of them is enough for this?
As before, Torke slinks off into an darkened area out of sight without notice. The sword begs, NEEDS, to touch the metal once again, but this time something is different. The metal isn't shinning as it was, and feels...hollow? It feels like it weighs less than it should, and in your grip it feels...despair?
The sword pulses again with this need to touch the metal.
The night came and went, deals were made and deals were walked away from. With the passing of this time, you all feel well rested regardless of what you were doing. As noon approaches, Wilcox strolls about the town, vision renewed and enthusiasm restored. He was ready to approach the mountain, and ascend to the top to show them what he was talking about.
He stood by the wine barrel for a time, and then went to walk to the edge of town, in the drection of the mountain. He looked, and then went back the apothecary reasoning that was where you'd assume he would be.
And there, he waited.
Sam makes his way over to the apothecary, guessing that is where they would find Wilcox. "Are we ready to head out?" he asks. He looks through the doorway and off toward the mountain.
DM - Above & Below
Hands on his hips in blatant confidence, he declares proudly that, yes, he was ready to overcome the obstacles and witness the special occasion once again. With the business with Angvald settled, he shoved a hand at an imaginary idea being pushed aside, and spoke thusly,
"I can imagine that won't be the last of the Rune Keeper's ire ill be facing before we see this out, but I am determined to complete our journey no matter what."
With eyes in the same direction, and a cheeky grin on his face, he stood with Sam for the others, briefly discussing the smaller points of alchemy with him.
As they look about, there are all the new colored liquids and glasses the apothecary brought out with the opening of the town. He explains that alchemy is one part labratory science and one part psychological attunement.
He points to an elixir of "fire" and explains further. It is simply, a very flammable liquid mixed with a very adhesive substance. But, if done on the right day, at the right time of day, and in the right mindset, suddenly, its the elixir of fire, capable of so much more than "sticky alcohol." Suddenly, its a weapon of war, not desperation.
"Its either very cleaver business strategy, or alchemists draw on some deep seeded arcane roots of all existence by acknowledging the individuality of something, asking for its permission to change its place in the universe, then doing so"
He thinks about it for a moment,
"Sounds rather religious in my opinion. In any case, i can be said that its about more than just following a recipe."
He thinks some more,
"I wonder if you applied the same to other crafts, if they would respond in kind?"
He looks at Sam, a little embarrassed,
"Ah, I seem to have gone on for far too long. Why didn't you stop me?"
He laughs lightly, then jumps up,
"You know i never asked, how did you all get split up?"
And with that, the heroes passed into legend...
Wilcox eventually did lead them to the mountain, through the town of mountain dwarves. It was there that the myth ended for Sam and Prosinet, whose lives went in very different directions.
Sam decided at the mine that the Dwarves were offering him a place among the best smiths in the world, having proved himself a master smith and expert of the sword. Slaying the dragon had not gone unnoticed, and, as a part of the group, he was awarded more than his share of prestige and honor, staying behind and waving at the group as they walked into the never ending winter of the Mountain pass. His life was well and very prosperous, meeting his end at old age, still in battle, against a never ending fire that burned the dwarven forge to the ground. The dwarves that returned in part dedicated their new forge "Smithwell" to this legendary master, whose valiant efforts saved many lives.
There, before the blustering wind and impossibly tall peaks, a voice beckoned to Prosinet from the trees off the mountain. It was here that Wilcox parted ways from Torke and Frostbite, assuring them that he was needed elsewhere, but that it was imperative they reach the top. He bid them each good luck, and chased the wandering wizard into the forest below.
Though he was inexperienced in the ways of magic, Prosinet was already an alchemical genius, deciphering the code on his mysterious text. He did so just as they reached the mountain pass, and a voice called out to his innermost desire of knowledge and power, bidding him to enter the trees. As he did, he felt a warming, welcoming sensation of energy flow through him till he reached the first of the green trees.
He walked up to this place, between the Winter forest at his back and the green of well watered Fir trees to his front, contemplating why he was stopped there. A pool of water in the immediate center between the too was there, and the book bid him capture in the vial. He did so, and as he did, the water disappeared inside, the rest quickly freezing over. The water inside the vial was such a brilliant crystal blue. "Drink it." Something said. Prosinet looked about, and there was nothing about that could have made such noise. The book rattled about in his arms, flung itself to the floor and opened to the third chapter. "DRINK IT." It rang out again, louder than seemed possible without seeing its source. Prosinet contemplated the choice, and as he did Wilcox finally caught up with him. The book slammed shut. Wilcox walked up, and stepped on it. He held his hand out to Prosinet for the vial, and what happened after that, nobody expected.
Wilcox held his hand out to Prosinet, and Prosinet refused. A battle ensued as Prosinet drank the vial and overpowered Wilcox, knocking him to the ground. Prosinet held his hand out, and felt a vile gas release itself from his palm. It felt lightening, like he was losing part of himself as it left his body. His weight, his form, his senses. He felt...nothing.
The gas was a pestilence, rotting the land about him, causing the floor, grass, trees, water, snow, bushes, everything to wither and die. Wilcox leaped back over the frozen puddle between the convergence Prosinet drew the water from and put up a protective barrier. The book, forgotten by Wilcox in the rush of action, slammed open to the fourth chapter, and from the pool, a lich ripped forth, sending Wilcox screaming into the treeline. The undead lord walked up to Prosinet, the newest of his apprentices, and held a hand to his shoulder.
Frostbite and Torke continued up the mountain, drawn by something one could only call inspiration or divine communication. Drawn to the peak by this will and call, about halfway through each agreed they could go no further without rest. Days had gone by without food, drinking the melted snow as water. At one point, Frostbite noticed Torke drawing power from chunks of metal that are strewn about the mountain. Knowing that he needed help to survive this harsh climate, Torke finally told Frostbite about his sword, and the metal. At first, he had no issue with this and the days continued to be long and arduous.
They encountered a body, a monk by the look of it, decaying in a cave from long ago. He is alive, but barely, and he explains that beads around his neck have kept him alive for centuries. He explains that he no longer has the muscle to lift them off his neck, and that he wishes to die. Torke and Frostbite consider the situation for a moment. Torke needs this energy to make his sword what it should be, and the man is going to die anyway. Dubious, Frostbite allowed him to kill the man, who thanked them, and they left the cave without a word.
Farther up the mountain, his consciousness began to eat at Frostbite. He had killed a warrior who sought renown, worked for wizards that used him as a plaything, met a beast that felt a kinship with him, and watched his traveling companion execute an elder. Standing in the wind, feeling nothing due to his heritage, Frostbite looked to the sky and clouds below them now. Empty, so empty like when he was flying, nothing but stars and dark blue space. It was an empty world now, even here in the fulfilling of destiny.
Further they marched, nearing the peak and coming into air so thin it was hard to breath. At the top, they gazed into the widest array in the world, viewing star patterns only visible on the other sides of the world this time of year. Their mission fulfilled, they looked to each other, unsure of what to do. They began to descend and as they did Torke's sword vibrates heavily, and Frostbite noticed Torke was distracted. He knew what that meant, Torke was arguing with his patron. It was something that had become increasingly common as they came closer to the top, and even Torke was unsure at times of himself, a most uncommon thing for him.
The ground shook, and each of them turned round, on guard for whatever came next. Torke shouted in violent protest, throwing his sword to the ground causing him to reel back in pain. The ground shook once again, much more violently this time, knocking them each to the ground, Torke's hand clasping the sword when he fell. He screamed once more, Frostbite leaping into a combat pose. Torke rose to his feet calmly, as if he was no longer at war with whatever force was in his blade, and assumed a similar combat pose.
Greater force was at work once again, and Frostbite's hatred of the strings that pulled them pushed him to rage. Here, at the top of the world, after going through so much and fulfilling each calling, now he was asked to combat his last remaining traveling companion. They fought, for hours, back and forth, eventually climbing to the peak. A ragged Torke through violet lightning bolts cracking the rocks and shattering the surroundings. Frostbite bobbed and weaved but he stood no chance on open ground. Once the covering was gone, he knew it was over. He put everything he had into a mighty yell, and leaped from the explosion of the last boulder he could hide behind.
His mighty ax slammed into the ground, his struggle finally over. Destiny would hold his strings no more, and he would not slay the warlock. Torke drew his sword, and struck the mighty barbarian down, sending his sword high into the air, a dark energy pulsing froth from it. The mountain peak surged and cracked and shook a third and final time, and from below Torke felt he had awakened something beneath Chult, and whatever it was was ancient, and evil. His sword laughed, and floated out of Torke's reach, high into the air, before reversing about and striking him down. The last thing he heard were the Raven Queen's words, “The next time this sword is drawn, the world will end.” It was indeed, the most powerful sword in the entire world.
He saw white. Then clouds of pink and orange. A heavenly place, a place of peace. And far in the distance, a small break of blue. Moments later it came back, a little bigger, then disappeared. Again, then again, till it was large enough to see that it was no break or pause in the clouds, but something approaching. Something so impossibly large that even at great distance it could be seen. A spiraling snakelike form twisted forth from the ether, it's gaping maw and yellow eyes fixed on Torke's gaze. Torke heard the screams of the smith who made his weapon, the laughs of the raven queen, and the roar of the Night Serpent as its jaws closed upon his soul.
Far atop the peak, the blade sat embedded in the rock. The bodies gone, the mountain slept once again.
When Wilcox returned to his mansion, he acted as if everything would be well and fine. He would send for more adventurers. They took care of Angvald, maybe this too could be fixed. He simply would have to get back to the mountain another time.
For years he chased after the mad mage, and wherever Prosinet and the Lich went, they were stalked by Wilcox's agents. As a part of the Mages guild, Prosinet was initially harbored and protected by them but even they could not stand to the might of the assembled guilds of the North, whose wizards, warlocks and druids made up most of the Mages guild. They hunted him down and slayed the lich, and imprisoned Prosinet.
That day, a tired and drained Wilcox looked up at the sky outside his mansion and removed all of his metal pieces he wore for so many years. He laid down in his bed and contemplated how he never went back to the mountain, and how he never saw Frostbite or Torke again. With some regret, but mostly satisfied with a life well lived, he left all of his worldly belongings to the people that worked for or with him that they wanted, and donated the rest to adventurers and the guilds that support them. An hour later, he too, passed into legend.
“For the adventurers of the future, may they ever solve the problems the past creates.”