OOC: Strange indeed on the dice roller function. Yokai, you may want to edit your own again. It appears that you rolled a 1d8, with a 1 on the die, which then added 4 to result in a "0" depicted. Strange indeed - definitely worth a re-look at what's transpired!
OOC 2: Just looked before first meeting this AM, and the first one now shows 1d20-1=0, just as you note. The second one, however, now shows that same 1d8 with a roll of 1+4=5, different from the 8 depicted. I'll send you a pic of what I'm seeing, and later submit a trouble ticket to D&D Beyond!
Silarus' ears perk up at the elven tune. He understands the words, but not the hidden meaning behind them.
Perhaps I should have listened more during my lessons. They hired her to teach me privately, but I was much too busy watching those on the street who had more freedom than I. She was extremely boring anyways, droning on an on about this-that-or-the-other... Elvish history was too long and too boring to read. Instead, I watched the others play Elves and Orcs from my bedroom window. I just wanted to be outside with the freedom to choose what I wanted, instead of being being told what to want. And really, what need for these lesson did I have? I was the son of the mayor and I wanted for nothing.
Besides, when I looked at Gertrude, all I could see was the cherry-sized wart on her right cheek. When she passed me on the way to the writing board, I could smell the mushroom and leek soup she always had for lunch. My parents told me that she was once a teacher in the city, then a professor at a prestigious university, and many years and hundreds of students later, she was my private tutor. She was strict, but she was fair.
She was also the first to die.
It was time for my afternoon lessons, but I had spirited away to my hidden space between the walls. She spent some time looking for me, calling my name, but I didn't answer. It was humorous to me to waste her time as I watched from the small hole I had carved in the middle of a knot in the boards. She was interrupted when the windows flew open and a man in normal travelers clothes appeared. The smell of brimstone filled the air, and embers were left in his footsteps. I'll never forget her wail - high pitched and shrill - as the blade entered her belly. The blood stained her muted clothes and pooled at her feet as he chuckled. My father and mother, upon hearing the cry, ran into the room and were easily subdued. Unfortunately, the end did not come as easy or as quick for them as it had for Gertrude The walls did nothing to mute their pained screams as they endured hours of torture at the hands of the wretched demon... and I saw it all.
Perhaps if I had paid attention to my lessons, I might have known it was coming. Demons do these things, after all. They prey on the weak and use them as pawns in the eternal struggle. The demon used the hunger of the villagers during a time of ill harvest to corrupt them. They made a bargain, but they knew not that bargains with demons do not usually go as planned. I wonder what they were thinking when he rode off with the food stores, leaving them to feed on their own to survive...
Gertrude, if you can hear me, I'm studying now. I'm learning how to defeat the demon and his ilk that ravaged our town. I'm learning how to defend the helpless... and I'm learning how to punish those that would eat their own children when food is scarce.
Casta listens enraptured to Yokai/Silarus, still unsettled by the transformation yet transfixed by the tale. Even though their partnership is not new, this dual personality speaks of an invasion of wills. One pact she may have also tread upon. To which calling does Yokai answer to? Casta has never asked. Yet, she herself hears a calling from a dank, barren and tortured place. A summoning of light from within the abyss. It is said that any light at all banishes the deepest darkness. That may only be true in the Material Plane. Silarus' story brings her summoning into stark relief. Who is she becoming? Who is Yokai?
The air fills with a scent that only a druid or ranger might know is Aster.
At the end of Silarus' story, she knocks heavily thrice on the table "Helm Defend us all!" She then raises her gauntleted right hand to her forehead where the eye engraved in the back of her hand rests over where the third eye might be, facing outward. She offers up a familiar prayer in Celestial.
"Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Helmae dietas, defende nos in proelio et colluctatione, quae nobis adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiae, in caelestibus."
After she finishes she translates for the party.
That is the first stanza of a war prayer to Helm. You have heard me pray it before. If our path goes as it feels, you shall hear the long form again in near time. Here are the words in Common, though much is lost in the translation.
O glorious Helm, Vigilant of the heavenly host, defend us in battle, and in the struggle which is ours against the principalities and Powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against spirits of evil in high places
OOC: That was supposed to be an inner monologue explaining why he did so poorly on his history check, but realistically it matters not whether it was internal or external. The only issue would be that Silarus/Yokai would not have spoken those words in front of anyone but his party.
OOC: If Alyth is still in the room, he will simply translate the song, and advise he doesn't understand the deeper meaning.
OOC: When Alyth leaves, he will explain the reason behind his lack of knowledge.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
10, 6
The tavernmaster’s last question goes unanswered, for the moment, as the adventurers dwell upon the Elfsong spirit’s ominous utterance of “Hellriders,” a term they’ve otherwise only heard before as slang, and used dismissively, to generically describe the knights of Elturel. Such warriors would now be missing, dead, or scattered and fleeing the doom of their lost city, and are targeted for arrest on sight by the Flaming Fist within Baldur’s Gate, lest their “self-righteous rabble-rousing,” in Zodge’s words, spread further unrest in the city, leading to yet more violence and bloodshed.
Fimrold, however, as something of a specialist in religious history, recalls that the term "Hellriders" originally referred to the last survivors of The Ride. Trained and led by the angel Zariel, The Ride was an epic charge of an army of warriors from Elturel into Hell itself, almost two centuries ago, to destroy evil at one of its sources. The Hellriders, as they were called, were those few who escaped from the clutches of Hell before the portal closed upon the doomed battle. Zariel was not among them...
Yokai’s articulate, high elven-accented voice ends the reflective silence, and the half-elf eloquently translates much of the mournful song’s remaining words for the company. Yet another term falls strangely upon their ears within the closing stanza, however, the reference to “Companion’s light.” A brief discussion among Casta, Sorore, and Feldinor, of all the adventurers, connects the song’s referral to the radiant sphere known as The Companion, which burned like a second sun over Elturel, protecting the city and its surrounding lands from undead.
Master Alyth listens to the discussion, nodding in vague agreement with Yokai’s translation, while also seemingly lost in thought.
“I remember those dark days, half a century ago, when I was a young lad. The Companion appeared suddenly, blazing in the sky over Elturel, and saved it from the ravages of a vampire lord and his army of shadows that were overrunning the holy city. But I don’t understand why these words come now from the Lady’s spirit, when through the ages she has sang only of her lost love? Would that she might sing them for us once more…”
And the Lady’s spirit does, offering again her lamentation in the emergent lyrics, of Hellriders, The Companion, and more…
The Elfsong Tavern, as before, goes utterly silent with near-reverence during the melancholy song, with Master Alyth’s own expression almost rapturous, that the spirit chose to respond to his plea. As the Elfsong draws to a close this time, however, the low voices throughout the tavern almost immediately return to life, but with a foreboding, ominous tone to them as understanding of the Lady’s new lyrics slowly spreads among the Elfsong’s experienced patrons. The difference is readily discernable even within the privacy of the Displacer Beast Room, and ends the tavernmaster’s reverie.
“Dark days are upon us and ahead of us, friends. The Displacer Beast is yours while the taper lasts; we can speak of your ‘other matters’ once Yimiur has seen to your drinks and provender…and I to what’s afoot now in the Elfsong, with the Lady's gift of song to me, given to us all.”
With those words, Master Alyth takes his leave of A Cuspide Corona, closing the heavy wooden door behind him, as the candle upon the table in their midst burns slowly down…
OOC: Hail and well-met again, Adventurers! Very glad, as noted in the PMs, to be back and once again able to contribute! Things appear to have taken a bit of a turn, as no questions were asked of Master Alyth before his departure. A few of the History checks were high enough to recall some additional information at DC 15, but not sufficient for full further details, as noted, with the exception of Fimrold's, from a primarily religious perspective, at DC 20. Nicely done! Intelligence can be an unfortunate "dump-stat" in roleplay.
OOC: Now would be the time in which Yokai would explain the reasoning behind his lack of knowledge, as he notes above. Given that Yokai also noted that it was originally meant to be an internal monologue to enrich the narrative, this might also be a good time to remind everyone of the standard PbP Forum standards for posting content, which others may not recall or know to apply consistently - a number of folks relatively new to this venue! I originally provided a summary way back in Post #3, but here are some of the basics copied/pasted for convenience:
Taking Actions: presented normally written in the present tense and in the third person, in standard font using standard effects for emphasis.
Spoken Words: presented in quotes, in whatever manner the character communicates, hopefully using whatever effects (such as different color, font, etc) that can best bring out the nature of the characters voice, from your perspective. "If you perceive my meaning."
Internal Thoughts: if used, entirely at the option of the player depending upon the character’s persona, presented in italics, without quotation marks, as the baseline text effect. I was thinking the same thing.
Out of Character (OOC) Content: presented essentially like the above, with “OOC” always preceding it, and also preferably in a distinct color (such as this) to further separate it from the narrative of the tale.
OOC: Hope that helps, Adventurers! Some truly excellent posts above, and ready to proceed with the tale!
Rigor listens attentively to the discussion of the Hellriders and the Companion, frustrated that he proved unable to contribute. He similarly listens to the reflections and convictions of his Helmite companions.
”With the two of you among us, it is certain The Vigilant One watches over us. I am of the mind that we must take the fight to evil in high places by first uncovering the low ones. Master Alyth seems one to be trusted. Let us simply ask of Zodge’s spy by the name we were openly given, when he returns.”
"I would agree, Brother Rigor. We need to speak with this Tarina quickly while the night is young, and that means discretely questioning Master Alyth or others here in short order."
"I'm certain that our admirably prayerful, zealous friends plan to live well and righteously in the service of Helm, this first night in what's left of our lives and beyond. We merely need the guidance to focus their passions."
"So, Yokai. Is there another name we should be using right now when speaking of you, perhaps?"
Sorore smiles conspiratorially at her companions, especially Yokai and Casta, and patiently waits for Alyth's return and others' thoughts.
“Before I took on the path of justice, I was known by another name - my birth name - Silarus.”
Yokai looks down at the floorboards and shakes his head softly side to side. You risk endangering both the innocent in your town and these fine people if you continue to speak.
“I failed my family and my people then, but I won’t fail the people of this city. I have taken up the mantle of an enforcer of justice, an enforcer of what’s right, but unlike Casta I’m not required to stick to such a stringent code of honor in my pursuit of justice.”
”I have vowed to never use that name until the demon that took my family, and twisted the minds of the townsfolk, pays with his life. When that day comes, assuming I don’t perish in the fray, I will give up this life and return to my old one, once again worthy of taking up my family name.”
”Until then, you will know me as Yokai - Slayer of Demons, and you will likely never see me in this attire again. Every second I spend like this puts my town in jeopardy.”
OOC: Doing this on a cellphone, and don’t see a place to change the color. Hopefully the italics tag works though. I’ll attempt to update tonight. Updated.
In but a few moments, as the adventurers’ discussion and Yokai’s tragic revelations settle among them, the tavernmaster returns and holds the door to the Displacer Beast Room wide to allow the passage of a smiling Falten, the young man burdened beneath a broad wooden serving tray that must have just barely fit up the stairs, bearing four tankards of various drinks and an equal number of plates holding an impressive array of spiced cheeses and pickled fruits.
“Yer privacy, pints, and more, Saer, and an appetizing start to a fine evenfeast,” Falten speaks, looking to Feldinor as he settles the tankards and plates across the table. “Master Alyth says that Yimiur and I are to leave you be for a bit, but I’m certain that you and your friends will find your favorites among these ales and be ready for more of a time soon. The games look to be lively, already this early in the evening, with folks looking to the ‘Song to escape the troubles.”
The friendly lad nods his head once more and quickly departs, and indeed the level of the voices around the gaming tables in the lantern-lit great hall beyond the door speak to Falten’s point, the Lady’s new words to the Elfsong itself perhaps amplifying the patrons' fervor and tension, before they are quieted again with the door's closing.
“A night at once ominous and wondrous with the lyrics of the Elfsong, friends,” Master Alyth begins, his eyes settling upon Sorore as he alludes to her earlier words to him. “Rather interesting, as well, that the Lady’s timing aligns with your arrival, and your need for speaking in private with me about other matters even as evenfeast, the games, and the revels begin in earnest. I hope that you might speak plainly of them, friends; I’ve the privilege to run a famed tavern in dark and troubled times, and I’ll need to soon return to her needs.”
The half-elven tavernmaster awaits your questions, his intensity clearly somewhat heightened by both the new lamentation of the Elfsong and the pressing demands of his tavern and her hardened patrons…
Sorore feels compelled to speak, since she spoke of this to him earlier downstairs, and quickly collects her thoughts.
"Thank you, Master Alyth. I cannot speak for the Lady's lyrics and timing, but we are in truth here tonight on a mission tied to these dark and troubled times, as you say."
"In this, our company acts under the authorities of the Flaming Fist, as agents of Captain Zodge. We're to make contact with someone named "Tarina," who is said to frequent the Elfsong. Captain Zodge thinks that she holds information important to our mission, but that she has dangerous friends, so we're to approach this with discretion. I can think of none better to ask than the Elfsong's Tavernmaster, if she does spend her time and her purse enjoying your hospitality. Can you help us as your well-paying guests, rather than as agents of the Fist? We would be most thankful."
OOC: Needed again here somehow...hi, charisma people! Charisma people? Ok, FWIW, so I really liked that I could check out our archive of posts to get all the right things to say! Lucky Post #133! :)
Master Alyth listens intently to Sorore’s words, clearly focused upon resolving his answers and returning to the needs of the Elfsong, although his eyes betray a second of some surprise when the Ilmatari cleric reveals the companions’ service to the Flaming Fist. The tavernmaster’s expression is immediately replaced, however, when Tarina’s name is spoken, turning to one of incredulousness.
“Tarina, you say?” he begins, then subtly shakes his head. “Aye, we know her well at the Elfsong; Tarina’s a regular, plays a wicked lucky game of Baldur’s Bones, and spends the coin well that she wins from her gullible coterie of local friends. She seems neither dangerous nor ‘informed,’ but things aren’t always as we perceive them, particularly of late in these dark times. The request is an easy one to honor, though; you’ve already walked past her once upstairs, over at the far gaming table. I’ll return with her for introductions, if she’s willing, and then see to my staff and other patrons.”
Master Alyth smoothly steps back and pivots through the wooden doorway, settling it discretely behind him with the rising sounds of the gaming and revels from the tables in the great hall at his back. A Cuspide Corona finds itself alone, for perhaps but a moment, once more…
Casta distantly watches Master Alyth depart. Clearly her eyes and heart are one something else, ruminating on the words spoken moments before.
Her countenance is one of reflection and of reveling in a memory.
She begins to emit a warm glow from her face and exposed hands, like she herself is a cozy fireside. The room begins to fill with the smell of roses and loam. The pedigree of a Celestial is on full display. It does not seem that Casta recognizes it, though, any more than a dragonborn recognizes their own teeth.
A pregnant moment after Master Alyth departs, Casta releases a breath filled with awe and a titter filled with equal parts mirth, respect and gravitas.
Her eyes look up through the ceiling to the unattainable heavens and unknown places beyond.
Zariel. Oh, magnificent Zariel. May your name be remembered from generation to generation. Helm hold thee close.
Company, she begins speaking as she lowers her eyes to the room and returns to the moment. My mother oft told me the legend of Zariel when I was but a girl. Zariel, most zealous of the heavenly host. A beacon of righteousness even among all the lanterns of Mount Celestia. It is a story I hold close to my heart and draw inspiration from to this day.
Zariel, as all angels do, dwelt in the high places of Celestia and roamed the Seven Heavens (blessed be the Home). When she looked down upon the prime, she saw the suffering of all the races at the hands of devils and demons and all manner of fiends. She had compassion on the good peoples and was convicted to help. While most of the Host merely warn and advise the people to avoid temptation, Zariel, in her perfect zeal, did not tolerate that souls be led astray and devoured while her brothers and sisters merely cautioned and quipped from on high. Unwilling to let so many mortals be pulled down into the Hells to power the eternal fiendish wars, Zariel was convicted to action. She would lead an assault upon the Hells themselves to remove their influence on the prime, thus protecting the peoples from the all-consuming hunger crawling from below.
She heroically petitioned the Host for the liberation of the prime from suffering and destitution and the Host did consult the gods and read the omens. The gods debated and disputed and wrangled and discussed. AO remained silent. After a great time of inaction, the Convocation finally decided they would not support her assault. The peoples would be left to fend for themselves against the diabolic powers. It was too great a risk for the Host. Zariel could not accept this decision in her heart. She descended alone to the realms.
Here, among the mortals, she rallied the good peoples. Those living daily among the desolation and suffering felt the truth and immediacy of her cause. Knights, warriors, barbarians, horsemen, clerics, priests, farmers and smiths of all breeds, religions and clans gathered under her banner. She trained them all into the greatest Crusade to ever see the Sword Coast. My mother called them The Chosen. Their assault was called the Final Liberation. Now, it seems that History has renamed it The Ride and The Chosen are now the Hell Riders. History is not kind in the retelling.
When they were prepared, if any force can be, Zariel used her own blood to open a rift to the planes of Hell. Into that rift, the Chosen flowed like water. Hell was prepared, however, and that water battered on a dam of dug-in fiends. It was a valiant but doomed fight. After a great many of the Chosen had fallen, Zariel ordered a retreat. The Fiends were prepared to outmaneuver the retreat, however, so she personally held the position at the gate against flood after flood of fallen flesh while the mortals fell back though the open portal. In time, however, the fiends were able to push her out of position so they could begin to flow through the gate unimpeded and wash as a foul tide across the land to pillage and destroy. Zariel had no choice but to use her blood once again to close the portal and save the lands.
Once the portal was closed, the Great Liberation was lost. However, she gathered what survivors she could in retreat and continues to harry the forces of the Hells to this day. My mother said she could occasionally hear the warcry of the valiant Zariel echoing through the planes as she continues her mission to destroy the Hells and keep fiends at bay. Only AO knows what sorts of diabolical machinations have been saved from surfacing here because of her harrowing there. What an incalculable sacrifice she has made. May she be a role model for us all. I endeavor to rise enough to one day see the whole story and learn what ills she has protected us all from.
May Helm keep her close. AMEN.
----------
OOC: Glow effect is the Light Cantrip she isn't even quite aware she is casting.
After Casta finishes her revelry in her past, she looks back at Yokai / Silarus with a look of mild surprise, as though an old thought just reemerged unbidden in her head. The idea momentarily grounds her in the present as it presses in her wandering mind.
Yokai, You made us a message earlier. Pray, the meaning of only some was clear. What did you mean by the rest? We had some length of debate. Some of us think they are clevershanks. You can settle the thought.
OOC: To be clear, it appears as if no one else except the party is in the room. That being said:
Silarus smirks.
"I'm glad my missive reached you. I was afraid it would be intercepted or just tossed aside like an unwanted biscuit."
Silarus gently retrieves the note, or asks for it if it isn't immediately available, sets it on the the closest horizontal surface, and points at each pictograph on the top row in order. "Elven ear, music note, tankard." he says. He will move his finger quickly under the three top symbols and say "Elfsong Tavern."
Moving to the next line, he again points to each pictograph in order. "Claw of smoke, tracking, sewers, Blade and Stars." He moves his finger quickly under the second row and elaborates: "I tracked the cultists by following their labored curses and torchlight - tracking them from above using the sewer grates. Their path took them past the Blade and Stars, then broke left and to the south. I followed them sharply downhill in Eastway toward the waters of Gray Harbor. We passed the Elfsong Tavern, and I lost them there."
Silarus will ask for a map. If one is present, he will show the path that he took and his final sighting of the cultists. If there is none, he will try his best to describe where he traveled and where he lost the enemy.
OOC: All information gathered from Silarus' little side expedition should be assumed to be party knowledge as he will explain everything seen and heard, given enough time. I would prefer not to leave anything out, but my memory of the encounters along the way is fading fast!
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Hellriders...
History 14
I may have heard of them, being relevant professional knowledge and all.
History 16
Considering the case that religion may also be appropriate Religion 5
Further considering the case that given my class, this may be a religion roll with advantage Religion19
Lastly, considering the case that dice rolling is just plan innocent fun. 110
Edit: Well that's weird. Die roller function doesn't seem to be rolling.
2nd edit. That's even stranger. It's working now, but only after two edits.
The Hellriders... I seem to remember something being said about them around the family dinner table... 13
Edit: Perhaps not.
Edit 2: The code definitely shows 1d20-1. I'll try again though. 4.
OOC: Strange indeed on the dice roller function. Yokai, you may want to edit your own again. It appears that you rolled a 1d8, with a 1 on the die, which then added 4 to result in a "0" depicted. Strange indeed - definitely worth a re-look at what's transpired!
OOC 2: Just looked before first meeting this AM, and the first one now shows 1d20-1=0, just as you note. The second one, however, now shows that same 1d8 with a roll of 1+4=5, different from the 8 depicted. I'll send you a pic of what I'm seeing, and later submit a trouble ticket to D&D Beyond!
Hmmm. Hellriders. Such an ominous reference to the infernal...
History 15
Hellriders? How would one ride hell? Or perhaps they simply ride into hell, such recklessness...
History: 14
(just in case) Religion: 20
History: 21
Silarus' ears perk up at the elven tune. He understands the words, but not the hidden meaning behind them.
Perhaps I should have listened more during my lessons. They hired her to teach me privately, but I was much too busy watching those on the street who had more freedom than I. She was extremely boring anyways, droning on an on about this-that-or-the-other... Elvish history was too long and too boring to read. Instead, I watched the others play Elves and Orcs from my bedroom window. I just wanted to be outside with the freedom to choose what I wanted, instead of being being told what to want. And really, what need for these lesson did I have? I was the son of the mayor and I wanted for nothing.
Besides, when I looked at Gertrude, all I could see was the cherry-sized wart on her right cheek. When she passed me on the way to the writing board, I could smell the mushroom and leek soup she always had for lunch. My parents told me that she was once a teacher in the city, then a professor at a prestigious university, and many years and hundreds of students later, she was my private tutor. She was strict, but she was fair.
She was also the first to die.
It was time for my afternoon lessons, but I had spirited away to my hidden space between the walls. She spent some time looking for me, calling my name, but I didn't answer. It was humorous to me to waste her time as I watched from the small hole I had carved in the middle of a knot in the boards. She was interrupted when the windows flew open and a man in normal travelers clothes appeared. The smell of brimstone filled the air, and embers were left in his footsteps. I'll never forget her wail - high pitched and shrill - as the blade entered her belly. The blood stained her muted clothes and pooled at her feet as he chuckled. My father and mother, upon hearing the cry, ran into the room and were easily subdued. Unfortunately, the end did not come as easy or as quick for them as it had for Gertrude The walls did nothing to mute their pained screams as they endured hours of torture at the hands of the wretched demon... and I saw it all.
Perhaps if I had paid attention to my lessons, I might have known it was coming. Demons do these things, after all. They prey on the weak and use them as pawns in the eternal struggle. The demon used the hunger of the villagers during a time of ill harvest to corrupt them. They made a bargain, but they knew not that bargains with demons do not usually go as planned. I wonder what they were thinking when he rode off with the food stores, leaving them to feed on their own to survive...
Gertrude, if you can hear me, I'm studying now. I'm learning how to defeat the demon and his ilk that ravaged our town. I'm learning how to defend the helpless... and I'm learning how to punish those that would eat their own children when food is scarce.
May they all feel Helm's wrath at my hand.
Casta listens enraptured to Yokai/Silarus, still unsettled by the transformation yet transfixed by the tale. Even though their partnership is not new, this dual personality speaks of an invasion of wills. One pact she may have also tread upon. To which calling does Yokai answer to? Casta has never asked. Yet, she herself hears a calling from a dank, barren and tortured place. A summoning of light from within the abyss. It is said that any light at all banishes the deepest darkness. That may only be true in the Material Plane. Silarus' story brings her summoning into stark relief. Who is she becoming? Who is Yokai?
The air fills with a scent that only a druid or ranger might know is Aster.
At the end of Silarus' story, she knocks heavily thrice on the table "Helm Defend us all!" She then raises her gauntleted right hand to her forehead where the eye engraved in the back of her hand rests over where the third eye might be, facing outward. She offers up a familiar prayer in Celestial.
"Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Helmae dietas, defende nos in proelio et colluctatione, quae nobis adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiae, in caelestibus."
After she finishes she translates for the party.
That is the first stanza of a war prayer to Helm. You have heard me pray it before. If our path goes as it feels, you shall hear the long form again in near time. Here are the words in Common, though much is lost in the translation.
O glorious Helm, Vigilant of the heavenly host, defend us in battle, and in the struggle which is ours against the principalities and Powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against spirits of evil in high places
OOC: That was supposed to be an inner monologue explaining why he did so poorly on his history check, but realistically it matters not whether it was internal or external. The only issue would be that Silarus/Yokai would not have spoken those words in front of anyone but his party.
OOC: If Alyth is still in the room, he will simply translate the song, and advise he doesn't understand the deeper meaning.
OOC: When Alyth leaves, he will explain the reason behind his lack of knowledge.
10, 6
The tavernmaster’s last question goes unanswered, for the moment, as the adventurers dwell upon the Elfsong spirit’s ominous utterance of “Hellriders,” a term they’ve otherwise only heard before as slang, and used dismissively, to generically describe the knights of Elturel. Such warriors would now be missing, dead, or scattered and fleeing the doom of their lost city, and are targeted for arrest on sight by the Flaming Fist within Baldur’s Gate, lest their “self-righteous rabble-rousing,” in Zodge’s words, spread further unrest in the city, leading to yet more violence and bloodshed.
Fimrold, however, as something of a specialist in religious history, recalls that the term "Hellriders" originally referred to the last survivors of The Ride. Trained and led by the angel Zariel, The Ride was an epic charge of an army of warriors from Elturel into Hell itself, almost two centuries ago, to destroy evil at one of its sources. The Hellriders, as they were called, were those few who escaped from the clutches of Hell before the portal closed upon the doomed battle. Zariel was not among them...
Yokai’s articulate, high elven-accented voice ends the reflective silence, and the half-elf eloquently translates much of the mournful song’s remaining words for the company. Yet another term falls strangely upon their ears within the closing stanza, however, the reference to “Companion’s light.” A brief discussion among Casta, Sorore, and Feldinor, of all the adventurers, connects the song’s referral to the radiant sphere known as The Companion, which burned like a second sun over Elturel, protecting the city and its surrounding lands from undead.
Master Alyth listens to the discussion, nodding in vague agreement with Yokai’s translation, while also seemingly lost in thought.
“I remember those dark days, half a century ago, when I was a young lad. The Companion appeared suddenly, blazing in the sky over Elturel, and saved it from the ravages of a vampire lord and his army of shadows that were overrunning the holy city. But I don’t understand why these words come now from the Lady’s spirit, when through the ages she has sang only of her lost love? Would that she might sing them for us once more…”
And the Lady’s spirit does, offering again her lamentation in the emergent lyrics, of Hellriders, The Companion, and more…
The Elfsong Tavern, as before, goes utterly silent with near-reverence during the melancholy song, with Master Alyth’s own expression almost rapturous, that the spirit chose to respond to his plea. As the Elfsong draws to a close this time, however, the low voices throughout the tavern almost immediately return to life, but with a foreboding, ominous tone to them as understanding of the Lady’s new lyrics slowly spreads among the Elfsong’s experienced patrons. The difference is readily discernable even within the privacy of the Displacer Beast Room, and ends the tavernmaster’s reverie.
“Dark days are upon us and ahead of us, friends. The Displacer Beast is yours while the taper lasts; we can speak of your ‘other matters’ once Yimiur has seen to your drinks and provender…and I to what’s afoot now in the Elfsong, with the Lady's gift of song to me, given to us all.”
With those words, Master Alyth takes his leave of A Cuspide Corona, closing the heavy wooden door behind him, as the candle upon the table in their midst burns slowly down…
OOC: Hail and well-met again, Adventurers! Very glad, as noted in the PMs, to be back and once again able to contribute! Things appear to have taken a bit of a turn, as no questions were asked of Master Alyth before his departure. A few of the History checks were high enough to recall some additional information at DC 15, but not sufficient for full further details, as noted, with the exception of Fimrold's, from a primarily religious perspective, at DC 20. Nicely done! Intelligence can be an unfortunate "dump-stat" in roleplay.
OOC: Now would be the time in which Yokai would explain the reasoning behind his lack of knowledge, as he notes above. Given that Yokai also noted that it was originally meant to be an internal monologue to enrich the narrative, this might also be a good time to remind everyone of the standard PbP Forum standards for posting content, which others may not recall or know to apply consistently - a number of folks relatively new to this venue! I originally provided a summary way back in Post #3, but here are some of the basics copied/pasted for convenience:
OOC: Hope that helps, Adventurers! Some truly excellent posts above, and ready to proceed with the tale!
Rigor listens attentively to the discussion of the Hellriders and the Companion, frustrated that he proved unable to contribute. He similarly listens to the reflections and convictions of his Helmite companions.
”With the two of you among us, it is certain The Vigilant One watches over us. I am of the mind that we must take the fight to evil in high places by first uncovering the low ones. Master Alyth seems one to be trusted. Let us simply ask of Zodge’s spy by the name we were openly given, when he returns.”
"I would agree, Brother Rigor. We need to speak with this Tarina quickly while the night is young, and that means discretely questioning Master Alyth or others here in short order."
"I'm certain that our admirably prayerful, zealous friends plan to live well and righteously in the service of Helm, this first night in what's left of our lives and beyond. We merely need the guidance to focus their passions."
"So, Yokai. Is there another name we should be using right now when speaking of you, perhaps?"
Sorore smiles conspiratorially at her companions, especially Yokai and Casta, and patiently waits for Alyth's return and others' thoughts.
OOC: :)
“Before I took on the path of justice, I was known by another name - my birth name - Silarus.”
Yokai looks down at the floorboards and shakes his head softly side to side. You risk endangering both the innocent in your town and these fine people if you continue to speak.
“I failed my family and my people then, but I won’t fail the people of this city. I have taken up the mantle of an enforcer of justice, an enforcer of what’s right, but unlike Casta I’m not required to stick to such a stringent code of honor in my pursuit of justice.”
”I have vowed to never use that name until the demon that took my family, and twisted the minds of the townsfolk, pays with his life. When that day comes, assuming I don’t perish in the fray, I will give up this life and return to my old one, once again worthy of taking up my family name.”
”Until then, you will know me as Yokai - Slayer of Demons, and you will likely never see me in this attire again. Every second I spend like this puts my town in jeopardy.”
OOC:
Doing this on a cellphone, and don’t see a place to change the color. Hopefully the italics tag works though. I’ll attempt to update tonight.Updated.In but a few moments, as the adventurers’ discussion and Yokai’s tragic revelations settle among them, the tavernmaster returns and holds the door to the Displacer Beast Room wide to allow the passage of a smiling Falten, the young man burdened beneath a broad wooden serving tray that must have just barely fit up the stairs, bearing four tankards of various drinks and an equal number of plates holding an impressive array of spiced cheeses and pickled fruits.
“Yer privacy, pints, and more, Saer, and an appetizing start to a fine evenfeast,” Falten speaks, looking to Feldinor as he settles the tankards and plates across the table. “Master Alyth says that Yimiur and I are to leave you be for a bit, but I’m certain that you and your friends will find your favorites among these ales and be ready for more of a time soon. The games look to be lively, already this early in the evening, with folks looking to the ‘Song to escape the troubles.”
The friendly lad nods his head once more and quickly departs, and indeed the level of the voices around the gaming tables in the lantern-lit great hall beyond the door speak to Falten’s point, the Lady’s new words to the Elfsong itself perhaps amplifying the patrons' fervor and tension, before they are quieted again with the door's closing.
“A night at once ominous and wondrous with the lyrics of the Elfsong, friends,” Master Alyth begins, his eyes settling upon Sorore as he alludes to her earlier words to him. “Rather interesting, as well, that the Lady’s timing aligns with your arrival, and your need for speaking in private with me about other matters even as evenfeast, the games, and the revels begin in earnest. I hope that you might speak plainly of them, friends; I’ve the privilege to run a famed tavern in dark and troubled times, and I’ll need to soon return to her needs.”
The half-elven tavernmaster awaits your questions, his intensity clearly somewhat heightened by both the new lamentation of the Elfsong and the pressing demands of his tavern and her hardened patrons…
Sorore feels compelled to speak, since she spoke of this to him earlier downstairs, and quickly collects her thoughts.
"Thank you, Master Alyth. I cannot speak for the Lady's lyrics and timing, but we are in truth here tonight on a mission tied to these dark and troubled times, as you say."
"In this, our company acts under the authorities of the Flaming Fist, as agents of Captain Zodge. We're to make contact with someone named "Tarina," who is said to frequent the Elfsong. Captain Zodge thinks that she holds information important to our mission, but that she has dangerous friends, so we're to approach this with discretion. I can think of none better to ask than the Elfsong's Tavernmaster, if she does spend her time and her purse enjoying your hospitality. Can you help us as your well-paying guests, rather than as agents of the Fist? We would be most thankful."
OOC: Needed again here somehow...hi, charisma people! Charisma people? Ok, FWIW, so I really liked that I could check out our archive of posts to get all the right things to say! Lucky Post #133! :)
Master Alyth listens intently to Sorore’s words, clearly focused upon resolving his answers and returning to the needs of the Elfsong, although his eyes betray a second of some surprise when the Ilmatari cleric reveals the companions’ service to the Flaming Fist. The tavernmaster’s expression is immediately replaced, however, when Tarina’s name is spoken, turning to one of incredulousness.
“Tarina, you say?” he begins, then subtly shakes his head. “Aye, we know her well at the Elfsong; Tarina’s a regular, plays a wicked lucky game of Baldur’s Bones, and spends the coin well that she wins from her gullible coterie of local friends. She seems neither dangerous nor ‘informed,’ but things aren’t always as we perceive them, particularly of late in these dark times. The request is an easy one to honor, though; you’ve already walked past her once upstairs, over at the far gaming table. I’ll return with her for introductions, if she’s willing, and then see to my staff and other patrons.”
Master Alyth smoothly steps back and pivots through the wooden doorway, settling it discretely behind him with the rising sounds of the gaming and revels from the tables in the great hall at his back. A Cuspide Corona finds itself alone, for perhaps but a moment, once more…
Casta distantly watches Master Alyth depart. Clearly her eyes and heart are one something else, ruminating on the words spoken moments before.
Her countenance is one of reflection and of reveling in a memory.
She begins to emit a warm glow from her face and exposed hands, like she herself is a cozy fireside. The room begins to fill with the smell of roses and loam. The pedigree of a Celestial is on full display. It does not seem that Casta recognizes it, though, any more than a dragonborn recognizes their own teeth.
A pregnant moment after Master Alyth departs, Casta releases a breath filled with awe and a titter filled with equal parts mirth, respect and gravitas.
Her eyes look up through the ceiling to the unattainable heavens and unknown places beyond.
Zariel. Oh, magnificent Zariel. May your name be remembered from generation to generation. Helm hold thee close.
Company, she begins speaking as she lowers her eyes to the room and returns to the moment. My mother oft told me the legend of Zariel when I was but a girl. Zariel, most zealous of the heavenly host. A beacon of righteousness even among all the lanterns of Mount Celestia. It is a story I hold close to my heart and draw inspiration from to this day.
Zariel, as all angels do, dwelt in the high places of Celestia and roamed the Seven Heavens (blessed be the Home). When she looked down upon the prime, she saw the suffering of all the races at the hands of devils and demons and all manner of fiends. She had compassion on the good peoples and was convicted to help. While most of the Host merely warn and advise the people to avoid temptation, Zariel, in her perfect zeal, did not tolerate that souls be led astray and devoured while her brothers and sisters merely cautioned and quipped from on high. Unwilling to let so many mortals be pulled down into the Hells to power the eternal fiendish wars, Zariel was convicted to action. She would lead an assault upon the Hells themselves to remove their influence on the prime, thus protecting the peoples from the all-consuming hunger crawling from below.
She heroically petitioned the Host for the liberation of the prime from suffering and destitution and the Host did consult the gods and read the omens. The gods debated and disputed and wrangled and discussed. AO remained silent. After a great time of inaction, the Convocation finally decided they would not support her assault. The peoples would be left to fend for themselves against the diabolic powers. It was too great a risk for the Host. Zariel could not accept this decision in her heart. She descended alone to the realms.
Here, among the mortals, she rallied the good peoples. Those living daily among the desolation and suffering felt the truth and immediacy of her cause. Knights, warriors, barbarians, horsemen, clerics, priests, farmers and smiths of all breeds, religions and clans gathered under her banner. She trained them all into the greatest Crusade to ever see the Sword Coast. My mother called them The Chosen. Their assault was called the Final Liberation. Now, it seems that History has renamed it The Ride and The Chosen are now the Hell Riders. History is not kind in the retelling.
When they were prepared, if any force can be, Zariel used her own blood to open a rift to the planes of Hell. Into that rift, the Chosen flowed like water. Hell was prepared, however, and that water battered on a dam of dug-in fiends. It was a valiant but doomed fight. After a great many of the Chosen had fallen, Zariel ordered a retreat. The Fiends were prepared to outmaneuver the retreat, however, so she personally held the position at the gate against flood after flood of fallen flesh while the mortals fell back though the open portal. In time, however, the fiends were able to push her out of position so they could begin to flow through the gate unimpeded and wash as a foul tide across the land to pillage and destroy. Zariel had no choice but to use her blood once again to close the portal and save the lands.
Once the portal was closed, the Great Liberation was lost. However, she gathered what survivors she could in retreat and continues to harry the forces of the Hells to this day. My mother said she could occasionally hear the warcry of the valiant Zariel echoing through the planes as she continues her mission to destroy the Hells and keep fiends at bay. Only AO knows what sorts of diabolical machinations have been saved from surfacing here because of her harrowing there. What an incalculable sacrifice she has made. May she be a role model for us all. I endeavor to rise enough to one day see the whole story and learn what ills she has protected us all from.
May Helm keep her close. AMEN.
----------After Casta finishes her revelry in her past, she looks back at Yokai / Silarus with a look of mild surprise, as though an old thought just reemerged unbidden in her head. The idea momentarily grounds her in the present as it presses in her wandering mind.
Yokai, You made us a message earlier. Pray, the meaning of only some was clear. What did you mean by the rest? We had some length of debate. Some of us think they are clevershanks. You can settle the thought.
OOC: To be clear, it appears as if no one else except the party is in the room. That being said:
Silarus smirks.
"I'm glad my missive reached you. I was afraid it would be intercepted or just tossed aside like an unwanted biscuit."
Silarus gently retrieves the note, or asks for it if it isn't immediately available, sets it on the the closest horizontal surface, and points at each pictograph on the top row in order. "Elven ear, music note, tankard." he says. He will move his finger quickly under the three top symbols and say "Elfsong Tavern."
Moving to the next line, he again points to each pictograph in order. "Claw of smoke, tracking, sewers, Blade and Stars." He moves his finger quickly under the second row and elaborates: "I tracked the cultists by following their labored curses and torchlight - tracking them from above using the sewer grates. Their path took them past the Blade and Stars, then broke left and to the south. I followed them sharply downhill in Eastway toward the waters of Gray Harbor. We passed the Elfsong Tavern, and I lost them there."
Silarus will ask for a map. If one is present, he will show the path that he took and his final sighting of the cultists. If there is none, he will try his best to describe where he traveled and where he lost the enemy.
OOC: All information gathered from Silarus' little side expedition should be assumed to be party knowledge as he will explain everything seen and heard, given enough time. I would prefer not to leave anything out, but my memory of the encounters along the way is fading fast!