A cold, dreary rain has set in tonight as you arrive at the crossroads town of Silverfair. The rain is light, barely more than a mist, but it is cold and a moderate wind from the north has made it fall at an angle. Most of the buildings are built from a combination of pine and stone, with a few newer stone brick and mortar structures peppered throughout. The dirt thoroughfare has turned to mud at this point, with whatever gravel might have been there at one point long since washed out. On your way in, you noticed that a shoddy palisade had been quickly erected around the perimeter of the town with small guard shacks posted sparsely along it.
Once little more than a village carved out of the woodland, the town has exploded in size and population in the last 30 years. It houses a few thousand people, with much of the population being put to work in large smelteries at the southern edge of town. Silver ore is brought in from the three neighboring, much smaller, mining towns of Moonvein, Feycrest, and Ambermouth. After being smelted and purified, the silver is shipped south on the high road, deeper into the heartland of Evanicea. The rumors are that High King Valerius and his arcanists are using it to build a giant reflective weapon, but that's typical of common folk gossip. In reality, a large portion of the metal goes into silvering weapons used by Evanicea's army for use against their monstrous western neighbors, though there's been no proof that silver is any particular help against the vampires.
As you step inside the Topaz Hammer, the tavern Sybil directed you towards in her summons, you are met with a warm glow of firelight and the blending scents of ale and smoked meats. The other occupants don't offer you much attention, save for a quick welcome by the burly man behind the bar. Sybil, a middle-aged woman with short black hair and bright green eyes, calls you over to a table in the corner of the tavern. Though on reserve at the moment, she still wears her chain mail armor and surcoat bearing the Evanicean crest on it. Taller than average and well muscled, she's is an imposing woman in her own right, reinforced by the spiked warhammer she carries with her.
Ushering you into a seat, she hails a server to get you a mug of ale. Others soon filter in after your arrival, until at last there are six of you total seated at the table. Sybil clears her throat and stands, speaking in a husky voice. "I'm glad you all could make it, and honored that you deemed it necessary. There's something strange going on here, and it's far beyond the kind of strange I'm used to. I'll explain everything, but first, I think some introductions are in order." As she makes the last statement, she gestures towards the person sitting to her immediate left.
((Go ahead and make a brief introduction of your character! No pressure to go super in depth, just write as much as you're comfortable with))
Silthras rubs a hand through his blonde hair, and when it comes away wet and slightly muddy, he frowns then glances around the table, eyes settling on each of his companions, appraising them. They linger on Usil, "You...you seem familiar but I can not place you..."
He finished his scan, "...but the rest of you...I do not think we have met...though it is late and we are all drenched and weary."
"Who am I? Well, a mercenary by profession, but I am far from mercenary in my dealings. Loyal to a fault, but betray me, and heaven and hell will find you. Which, as it happens, is why I am here..." he smiles an easy smile, one that speaks of confidence among strangers. "I seek a friend who went missing many years ago, and despite my best efforts so far, I have been unable to find her..."
With that he turns back to Sybil, "...and you said you had news of her?"
As it came round to him for introductions, he briefly stands for a small bow to the others, declaring himself in a somewhat hoarse voice. "Kal Vorni, Knight of the Frozen Roze." Human as he was, his time in the cold wilderness and the old magics surrounding his order had taken their toll on his appearance. His skin is pallid, almost to the point of translucence around his eyes, which are a frosty blue. Black hair with streaks of unnatural white in it has been pulled back and tied into a bun with a strip of leather. His lips were slightly blued, despite the obvious warmth of the tavern.
Underneath a mantle of wolf's fur is clean, but clearly dented and well worn splint armor guarding his limbs. A pine green gambeson can be seen in the gaps of the splint, around his joints. With his gloves off you can see a silver ring, bearing a crest of two concentric semi circles with two bars running from their center to the outer circle.
A longsword leans up against his chair, while his shield rests atop the dark leather pack containing most of his other belongings.
As he sits back down, he takes a glance around the rest of the tavern, wearing an expression that reveals a level of discomfort with the setting. His eyes gloss over the others, finding Sybil. "Why so many?"
Arriving outside the Hammer, Usul dismounts from his mastiff, who quickly shakes the rain off his coat. Usul looks to the dog, says something in Gnomish, which one could easily understand as ‘wait’, and the dog sits down just outside the door under cover from any awning to avoid as much rain as possible. Usul himself walks in and does almost the same as his dog did, shaking the water off. You see he’s wearing simple clothing, dark clothing, with leather armor underneath. He has a quiver and crossbow, currently broken down, strapped to his pack, and seemingly out of place a, very wet, red fur muffler around his neck. He’s a young gnome, though it’s tough to guess his age exactly, he looks no older than around twenty years old. Just as he shakes off most of the water the fur on his neck suddenly starts to move, you then see that it is in fact a small red weasel that had been curled up around his neck. The weasel jumps from Usul’s shoulders to the floor, also shakes off the rain water, and suddenly dashes off under a table disappearing, Usul chuckling.
Heading to the bar first, Usul orders a glass of wine magically flavors and warms it, goes to the table that he was shown, and pulls out a small pouch of dried meats that he starts snacking on. Once directed to introduce himself he says with a smile “We are Usul, and Dib.” As the weasel suddenly pops his head out from under Usul’s vest to take a bite of dried meat, and then goes back up to his seat on Usul’s shoulders to keep a lookout. He pulls out a pipe and starts puffing on it, looking to the others around him adding “Muad’s outside. Nice t’meet’cha’ll!” Clearly excited to be here.
he then replies to the tall blond saying “yeah? Where ya from?”
Turning to the half-orc he adds “hey! Do you know a guy named Crush? A bit bigger and uglier than you, but really strong and funny. Taught me how to do this.”As he takes a big pull off his pipe and blows the smoke into a small dragon that quickly fades into the air.
This will be Usul after a few years of adventuring. Atm he’s still quite young.
A silver-haired halfling sits at the table, her bare feet dangling quite a few inches from the floor and still slightly muddy from the rain, the mud a stark contrast to her paleish skin. She takes a moment to wring out her hair and as she does, a sprinkle of tiny flowers and leaves falls gently to the floor, landing in the small puddle of water that's begun to accumulate. Of the many that still remain in her hair, she takes note of a few that seem to be wilting. With a light touch of her finger, she taps each one, bringing them back to a pristine bloom. She is completely oblivious to the raised eyebrows and glances from the other patrons for her uncouth mannerisms. Leaning against the table and chair are her staff and shield, both donned with intricate woven patterns and ornamented with colorful feathers and flowers alike. She has a delicate aura about her, though her stoic face seemingly shows a lack of emotion.
"Greetings..." her voice is almost too faint to hear over the ambient noise of the tavern. She pauses a moment before tentatively speaking up. "My name is Fauna. I don't believe I recognize anyone here, though I'm pleased to meet all of you. It worries me that I've been called back to Silverfair on such short notice..." she trails off, slight concern on her face. "But I'm here to lend my aid in any way that I can." She looks to Sybil and timidly nods. Grasping the ale in front of her she uses both hands to lift the proportionately large mug to her face. She takes a sniff and wrinkles her nose at the smell before glancing around and setting it back down on the table, hoping no one noticed.
Inside and already at th bar is a strangely slender half orc, dressed in rather plain travel garb. Over this he wears well kept studded leather armor that seems to have been made expertly, leading into rapier that is quiet clearly of elven make with several etchings in the language of the fair folk and a guard that looks to be modeled after twisted tree branches. While his skin carries the green tint it is somewhat subdued, his them like tooth much smaller then a normal half orc. The last detail of note is the Spellbook that he is scribing something into, seeming to be finishing the last few sigils of a new spell.
"I do not think I know any by that name. The only other half orc I have met outside of my father was not fond of me. Elven blood was something he said was an abomination for our kind. Although I would guess that would not make me the same breed of half orc as him... I must make a note to look into that further... But that does go quite far away from the question. To answer it no I have not." He says, not seeming to notice that he had gone off on a bit of a rambling tangent.
Draining her own mug while the rest of you introduced yourselves, Sybil glares at the empty bottom for a moment before looking up. You notice now that she looks tired, dark circles under her eyes, and a slight downstep in her usual intense level of focus. To Silthras, she offers a somewhat apologetic look. "Something of that sort, tomorrow I have someone you can talk to with more direct knowledge."
There is a brief flicker of emotions across her face with the knight's question. Annoyance perhaps, disappointment, or straight anger. "Respectfully, this problem has gotten worse under your "Watch." Some help is necessary don't you think?" She pinches the bridge of her nose, resting her elbow on the tabletop. "It's gotten much worse as of late. All three mines have shut down, and the last we heard from any of them was two weeks ago. The attacks come nightly, and the Baroness is too proud and stupid to call for aid. We've already lost so many in the guard." She sighs, and unapologetically takes the mug from in front of Kal and swaps it with her empty one. "I need this solved as soon as possible, so I'm throwing as many people as I can at it."
"We've always has a problem out here with the living dead, but it's been manageable for the longest time. They were dumb, slow, and so far in the wilds that it was easy to forget they even existed sometimes."
"A few months back they started showing up in the mines, just a few of them at first, but then it was like a whole army of them was coming up from underneath the mountain. They started hitting the settlements, showing up in larger numbers than we've ever seen before. Some of them are faster, more viscous. And here have been times where I swear there was an intelligence behind their movements. Flanks, ambushes, misdirection. Gods, we had to erect that barrier around Silverfair just a week ago after they hit both ends of the town at once."
She leans in, resting her chin atop laced fingers. "I need you to get to one of the mining settlements and see if you can find an explanation for what's going on. Or if there's even still living people in them. Like I said, we haven't received word from them in a while..." Leaning back in her seat, she takes a long drink from the mug she stole from Kal before setting it back down. "If worse comes to worse, we can collapse the mines, since that appears to be the source. Though I would prefer if we didn't destroy peoples' livelihood around here."
"In the morning, I'll send you to see Elixyr. She's our...Local arcanist. From the conversation we had a few nights ago, I think she has a way to get you the explosive power you would need." Looking to Silthras, she adds, "And she's the one who might be able to tell you a few things about Elirion."
"Most of you I don't know very well. In fact the only one I've spent any decent amount of time with is the broody one." She says, jerking a thumb towards Kal. "And after that the one who stopped me from bleeding out," she continues with a nod at Fauna "But the people you're here on behalf of wouldn't have let you come if they didn't think you were talented. So for now I'll have to trust their judgement."
Usul’s cheery demeanor drops at the talk of all the undead. It’s reminiscent of the armies that drove his family from their forest. He uncharacteristically listens quietly to Sybil’s story and replies “I think this is what Kwiz has helped prepare us for, and why he sent us to help you, sorry he couldn’t come himself of course.” Then gaining a bit more of his natural gnomish glee back he says “And we hear the mines are rather shiny this time of year. A warm bed and a warm meal and we’ll be ready to go in the morn.’
Chastised, Kal makes a point to avoid the woman's gaze as she looks around at those gathered. "Your assessment is correct." His eyes sweep around the table over the others. "Help is necessary for this." He makes no move to reclaim his stolen mug of ale, knowing better than to provoke the solider further. "Do you have any personal theories on the cause of the undead's new behavior?"
"While I am sure my parents would have come if possible, my father never recovered from the gut wound that made him leave active service in the first place. As for my mother she may still come depending on her mood. Regardless of that I can assure you I know how to fight with my blade as well as I can cast magic." Urgoth says as he reaches out to grab onto his own mug of ale before it can be taken. During all of this he still kept his book opens, eyes scanning over the page.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Fauna sits listening to Sybil, a lack of emotion on her face. At the mention of the undead her eyebrows furl and she gets a slight shiver down her spine. A familiar foreboding feeling comes creeping back, much too similar to the apprehension that greets her upon waking from the night terrors that plague her every few moons. Shaking her head a bit as if to dismiss the thought, she looks to Sybil. "About the growing numbers... would you happen to know of any attacks that have led to the result of someone... becoming undead themselves?" Her demeanor perks up and bit and she enthusiastically begins to spout off. "In nature I know a bunch of parasitic plants that like to take control of their chosen host, and use them to spread more of the parasites to infect more and more hosts until..." she trails off after her explanation goes on for a bit. Catching herself, she brings a hand to her mouth and clears her throat before continuing. "I just wonder if there's any correlation is all." Her voice now back to a soft pitch.
Silthras remains quiet, he nods at Kai's question and turns to Sybil waiting for her answer. When Fauna asks her question, he turns to her, smiles and nods, then returns his gaze to Sybil.
"I knew some of those messages were a long shot when I sent them. Regardless, I'm glad they were able to send others in their stead." She says to the gnome and half-orc. "I'll take care of your rooms for however many nights you end up staying here. Atmosphere might be a little grim right now, but the Hammer has some decent beds."
Nodding after Fauna's suggestion, she explains "that's part of it. Some of these things are remarkably quick, and their hands are more like claws. One of those things kill you, you're coming back before your head hits the ground. Regardless though we've taken to burning bodies whenever we can as a precaution."
"That alone isn't enough to account for the numbers though. And some of the pieces of armor, jewelry, or clothing scrapes you find on these things...They're old. Ancient even, 'least according to Suse Gray they are."
The soldier clears her throat, taking another drink from (now her) mug. "I think the mines have gone too deep in the mountains. Hacked their way into some cavern they weren't supposed to and released these things. But...Well if I knew that for sure I wouldn't have called you all in."
"And these bastards are tough too. Steel will kill them alright, but one of the temple's priestesses Mera...She's able to drop them a lot quicker than we are."
Silthras frowns at the mention of the temple, but it passes quickly, "Does this Mera weild a special weapon, or is it though her powers that she defeats them?"
He takes a tentative sip at the ale and replaces it on the table.
As though not wanting to miss a chance to talk more about magic, Urgoth closes his Spellbook, returning it to satchel on his belt. "I assume it would be done through divine magic. Arcane magic would be more effective in raising undead...Although a well placed spell would work fairly well in destroying them."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Sybil gives the pair a blank stare, not too keen on plumbing the differences between arcane and divine magic. "Definitely magic. She could probably tell you more, though I'm not sure if it would help you at all. She serves at the temple to Maliel. Big stone work in the plaza, hard to miss."
Drumming his fingers on the table, the knight speaks up. "With the proper components and time, I can make something to help with that problem. It is possible the priestess already has as well."
Reaching underneath to his bag, Kal pulls out his waterskin and places it on the table. "Water, purified by ritual."
"This town refines silver. How much of it ground into dust could you get for me?"
Listening to the others, Fauna ponders for a moment. "It's not much but I believe I can assist a bit in that regard as well. The undead have no place in nature. I follow Amah's will, and it's with her blessing that I'm able to draw the power to rebuke such.. abominations. I'm certain she will have good favor upon us."
"I think that temple is where I will be heading first then. If there is more knowledge to be gained on the matter it should be of help." Urgoth says as he finishes his drink, setting it on the bar. He nods to the others as he stands, moving toward the door. "If we are to work together then perhaps we should meet here and discuss what each of us learn."
A cold, dreary rain has set in tonight as you arrive at the crossroads town of Silverfair. The rain is light, barely more than a mist, but it is cold and a moderate wind from the north has made it fall at an angle. Most of the buildings are built from a combination of pine and stone, with a few newer stone brick and mortar structures peppered throughout. The dirt thoroughfare has turned to mud at this point, with whatever gravel might have been there at one point long since washed out. On your way in, you noticed that a shoddy palisade had been quickly erected around the perimeter of the town with small guard shacks posted sparsely along it.
Once little more than a village carved out of the woodland, the town has exploded in size and population in the last 30 years. It houses a few thousand people, with much of the population being put to work in large smelteries at the southern edge of town. Silver ore is brought in from the three neighboring, much smaller, mining towns of Moonvein, Feycrest, and Ambermouth. After being smelted and purified, the silver is shipped south on the high road, deeper into the heartland of Evanicea. The rumors are that High King Valerius and his arcanists are using it to build a giant reflective weapon, but that's typical of common folk gossip. In reality, a large portion of the metal goes into silvering weapons used by Evanicea's army for use against their monstrous western neighbors, though there's been no proof that silver is any particular help against the vampires.
As you step inside the Topaz Hammer, the tavern Sybil directed you towards in her summons, you are met with a warm glow of firelight and the blending scents of ale and smoked meats. The other occupants don't offer you much attention, save for a quick welcome by the burly man behind the bar. Sybil, a middle-aged woman with short black hair and bright green eyes, calls you over to a table in the corner of the tavern. Though on reserve at the moment, she still wears her chain mail armor and surcoat bearing the Evanicean crest on it. Taller than average and well muscled, she's is an imposing woman in her own right, reinforced by the spiked warhammer she carries with her.
Ushering you into a seat, she hails a server to get you a mug of ale. Others soon filter in after your arrival, until at last there are six of you total seated at the table. Sybil clears her throat and stands, speaking in a husky voice. "I'm glad you all could make it, and honored that you deemed it necessary. There's something strange going on here, and it's far beyond the kind of strange I'm used to. I'll explain everything, but first, I think some introductions are in order." As she makes the last statement, she gestures towards the person sitting to her immediate left.
((Go ahead and make a brief introduction of your character! No pressure to go super in depth, just write as much as you're comfortable with))
Silthras rubs a hand through his blonde hair, and when it comes away wet and slightly muddy, he frowns then glances around the table, eyes settling on each of his companions, appraising them. They linger on Usil, "You...you seem familiar but I can not place you..."
He finished his scan, "...but the rest of you...I do not think we have met...though it is late and we are all drenched and weary."
"Who am I? Well, a mercenary by profession, but I am far from mercenary in my dealings. Loyal to a fault, but betray me, and heaven and hell will find you. Which, as it happens, is why I am here..." he smiles an easy smile, one that speaks of confidence among strangers. "I seek a friend who went missing many years ago, and despite my best efforts so far, I have been unable to find her..."
With that he turns back to Sybil, "...and you said you had news of her?"
As it came round to him for introductions, he briefly stands for a small bow to the others, declaring himself in a somewhat hoarse voice. "Kal Vorni, Knight of the Frozen Roze." Human as he was, his time in the cold wilderness and the old magics surrounding his order had taken their toll on his appearance. His skin is pallid, almost to the point of translucence around his eyes, which are a frosty blue. Black hair with streaks of unnatural white in it has been pulled back and tied into a bun with a strip of leather. His lips were slightly blued, despite the obvious warmth of the tavern.
Underneath a mantle of wolf's fur is clean, but clearly dented and well worn splint armor guarding his limbs. A pine green gambeson can be seen in the gaps of the splint, around his joints. With his gloves off you can see a silver ring, bearing a crest of two concentric semi circles with two bars running from their center to the outer circle.
A longsword leans up against his chair, while his shield rests atop the dark leather pack containing most of his other belongings.
As he sits back down, he takes a glance around the rest of the tavern, wearing an expression that reveals a level of discomfort with the setting. His eyes gloss over the others, finding Sybil. "Why so many?"
Arriving outside the Hammer, Usul dismounts from his mastiff, who quickly shakes the rain off his coat. Usul looks to the dog, says something in Gnomish, which one could easily understand as ‘wait’, and the dog sits down just outside the door under cover from any awning to avoid as much rain as possible. Usul himself walks in and does almost the same as his dog did, shaking the water off. You see he’s wearing simple clothing, dark clothing, with leather armor underneath. He has a quiver and crossbow, currently broken down, strapped to his pack, and seemingly out of place a, very wet, red fur muffler around his neck. He’s a young gnome, though it’s tough to guess his age exactly, he looks no older than around twenty years old. Just as he shakes off most of the water the fur on his neck suddenly starts to move, you then see that it is in fact a small red weasel that had been curled up around his neck. The weasel jumps from Usul’s shoulders to the floor, also shakes off the rain water, and suddenly dashes off under a table disappearing, Usul chuckling.
Heading to the bar first, Usul orders a glass of wine magically flavors and warms it, goes to the table that he was shown, and pulls out a small pouch of dried meats that he starts snacking on. Once directed to introduce himself he says with a smile “We are Usul, and Dib.” As the weasel suddenly pops his head out from under Usul’s vest to take a bite of dried meat, and then goes back up to his seat on Usul’s shoulders to keep a lookout. He pulls out a pipe and starts puffing on it, looking to the others around him adding “Muad’s outside. Nice t’meet’cha’ll!” Clearly excited to be here.
he then replies to the tall blond saying “yeah? Where ya from?”
Turning to the half-orc he adds “hey! Do you know a guy named Crush? A bit bigger and uglier than you, but really strong and funny. Taught me how to do this.” As he takes a big pull off his pipe and blows the smoke into a small dragon that quickly fades into the air.
This will be Usul after a few years of adventuring. Atm he’s still quite young.
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
A silver-haired halfling sits at the table, her bare feet dangling quite a few inches from the floor and still slightly muddy from the rain, the mud a stark contrast to her paleish skin. She takes a moment to wring out her hair and as she does, a sprinkle of tiny flowers and leaves falls gently to the floor, landing in the small puddle of water that's begun to accumulate. Of the many that still remain in her hair, she takes note of a few that seem to be wilting. With a light touch of her finger, she taps each one, bringing them back to a pristine bloom. She is completely oblivious to the raised eyebrows and glances from the other patrons for her uncouth mannerisms. Leaning against the table and chair are her staff and shield, both donned with intricate woven patterns and ornamented with colorful feathers and flowers alike. She has a delicate aura about her, though her stoic face seemingly shows a lack of emotion.
"Greetings..." her voice is almost too faint to hear over the ambient noise of the tavern. She pauses a moment before tentatively speaking up. "My name is Fauna. I don't believe I recognize anyone here, though I'm pleased to meet all of you. It worries me that I've been called back to Silverfair on such short notice..." she trails off, slight concern on her face. "But I'm here to lend my aid in any way that I can." She looks to Sybil and timidly nods. Grasping the ale in front of her she uses both hands to lift the proportionately large mug to her face. She takes a sniff and wrinkles her nose at the smell before glancing around and setting it back down on the table, hoping no one noticed.
Inside and already at th bar is a strangely slender half orc, dressed in rather plain travel garb. Over this he wears well kept studded leather armor that seems to have been made expertly, leading into rapier that is quiet clearly of elven make with several etchings in the language of the fair folk and a guard that looks to be modeled after twisted tree branches. While his skin carries the green tint it is somewhat subdued, his them like tooth much smaller then a normal half orc. The last detail of note is the Spellbook that he is scribing something into, seeming to be finishing the last few sigils of a new spell.
"I do not think I know any by that name. The only other half orc I have met outside of my father was not fond of me. Elven blood was something he said was an abomination for our kind. Although I would guess that would not make me the same breed of half orc as him... I must make a note to look into that further... But that does go quite far away from the question. To answer it no I have not." He says, not seeming to notice that he had gone off on a bit of a rambling tangent.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Draining her own mug while the rest of you introduced yourselves, Sybil glares at the empty bottom for a moment before looking up. You notice now that she looks tired, dark circles under her eyes, and a slight downstep in her usual intense level of focus. To Silthras, she offers a somewhat apologetic look. "Something of that sort, tomorrow I have someone you can talk to with more direct knowledge."
There is a brief flicker of emotions across her face with the knight's question. Annoyance perhaps, disappointment, or straight anger. "Respectfully, this problem has gotten worse under your "Watch." Some help is necessary don't you think?" She pinches the bridge of her nose, resting her elbow on the tabletop. "It's gotten much worse as of late. All three mines have shut down, and the last we heard from any of them was two weeks ago. The attacks come nightly, and the Baroness is too proud and stupid to call for aid. We've already lost so many in the guard." She sighs, and unapologetically takes the mug from in front of Kal and swaps it with her empty one. "I need this solved as soon as possible, so I'm throwing as many people as I can at it."
"We've always has a problem out here with the living dead, but it's been manageable for the longest time. They were dumb, slow, and so far in the wilds that it was easy to forget they even existed sometimes."
"A few months back they started showing up in the mines, just a few of them at first, but then it was like a whole army of them was coming up from underneath the mountain. They started hitting the settlements, showing up in larger numbers than we've ever seen before. Some of them are faster, more viscous. And here have been times where I swear there was an intelligence behind their movements. Flanks, ambushes, misdirection. Gods, we had to erect that barrier around Silverfair just a week ago after they hit both ends of the town at once."
She leans in, resting her chin atop laced fingers. "I need you to get to one of the mining settlements and see if you can find an explanation for what's going on. Or if there's even still living people in them. Like I said, we haven't received word from them in a while..." Leaning back in her seat, she takes a long drink from the mug she stole from Kal before setting it back down. "If worse comes to worse, we can collapse the mines, since that appears to be the source. Though I would prefer if we didn't destroy peoples' livelihood around here."
"In the morning, I'll send you to see Elixyr. She's our...Local arcanist. From the conversation we had a few nights ago, I think she has a way to get you the explosive power you would need." Looking to Silthras, she adds, "And she's the one who might be able to tell you a few things about Elirion."
"Most of you I don't know very well. In fact the only one I've spent any decent amount of time with is the broody one." She says, jerking a thumb towards Kal. "And after that the one who stopped me from bleeding out," she continues with a nod at Fauna "But the people you're here on behalf of wouldn't have let you come if they didn't think you were talented. So for now I'll have to trust their judgement."
"Will you help me?"
Usul’s cheery demeanor drops at the talk of all the undead. It’s reminiscent of the armies that drove his family from their forest. He uncharacteristically listens quietly to Sybil’s story and replies “I think this is what Kwiz has helped prepare us for, and why he sent us to help you, sorry he couldn’t come himself of course.” Then gaining a bit more of his natural gnomish glee back he says “And we hear the mines are rather shiny this time of year. A warm bed and a warm meal and we’ll be ready to go in the morn.’
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
Chastised, Kal makes a point to avoid the woman's gaze as she looks around at those gathered. "Your assessment is correct." His eyes sweep around the table over the others. "Help is necessary for this." He makes no move to reclaim his stolen mug of ale, knowing better than to provoke the solider further. "Do you have any personal theories on the cause of the undead's new behavior?"
"While I am sure my parents would have come if possible, my father never recovered from the gut wound that made him leave active service in the first place. As for my mother she may still come depending on her mood. Regardless of that I can assure you I know how to fight with my blade as well as I can cast magic." Urgoth says as he reaches out to grab onto his own mug of ale before it can be taken. During all of this he still kept his book opens, eyes scanning over the page.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Fauna sits listening to Sybil, a lack of emotion on her face. At the mention of the undead her eyebrows furl and she gets a slight shiver down her spine. A familiar foreboding feeling comes creeping back, much too similar to the apprehension that greets her upon waking from the night terrors that plague her every few moons. Shaking her head a bit as if to dismiss the thought, she looks to Sybil. "About the growing numbers... would you happen to know of any attacks that have led to the result of someone... becoming undead themselves?" Her demeanor perks up and bit and she enthusiastically begins to spout off. "In nature I know a bunch of parasitic plants that like to take control of their chosen host, and use them to spread more of the parasites to infect more and more hosts until..." she trails off after her explanation goes on for a bit. Catching herself, she brings a hand to her mouth and clears her throat before continuing. "I just wonder if there's any correlation is all." Her voice now back to a soft pitch.
Silthras remains quiet, he nods at Kai's question and turns to Sybil waiting for her answer. When Fauna asks her question, he turns to her, smiles and nods, then returns his gaze to Sybil.
"I knew some of those messages were a long shot when I sent them. Regardless, I'm glad they were able to send others in their stead." She says to the gnome and half-orc. "I'll take care of your rooms for however many nights you end up staying here. Atmosphere might be a little grim right now, but the Hammer has some decent beds."
Nodding after Fauna's suggestion, she explains "that's part of it. Some of these things are remarkably quick, and their hands are more like claws. One of those things kill you, you're coming back before your head hits the ground. Regardless though we've taken to burning bodies whenever we can as a precaution."
"That alone isn't enough to account for the numbers though. And some of the pieces of armor, jewelry, or clothing scrapes you find on these things...They're old. Ancient even, 'least according to Suse Gray they are."
The soldier clears her throat, taking another drink from (now her) mug. "I think the mines have gone too deep in the mountains. Hacked their way into some cavern they weren't supposed to and released these things. But...Well if I knew that for sure I wouldn't have called you all in."
"And these bastards are tough too. Steel will kill them alright, but one of the temple's priestesses Mera...She's able to drop them a lot quicker than we are."
Silthras frowns at the mention of the temple, but it passes quickly, "Does this Mera weild a special weapon, or is it though her powers that she defeats them?"
He takes a tentative sip at the ale and replaces it on the table.
As though not wanting to miss a chance to talk more about magic, Urgoth closes his Spellbook, returning it to satchel on his belt. "I assume it would be done through divine magic. Arcane magic would be more effective in raising undead...Although a well placed spell would work fairly well in destroying them."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Sybil gives the pair a blank stare, not too keen on plumbing the differences between arcane and divine magic. "Definitely magic. She could probably tell you more, though I'm not sure if it would help you at all. She serves at the temple to Maliel. Big stone work in the plaza, hard to miss."
Drumming his fingers on the table, the knight speaks up. "With the proper components and time, I can make something to help with that problem. It is possible the priestess already has as well."
Reaching underneath to his bag, Kal pulls out his waterskin and places it on the table. "Water, purified by ritual."
"This town refines silver. How much of it ground into dust could you get for me?"
Silthras turns to face Kai, once more surprised by the warrior. No, more than a warrior, this one. Something to remember.
He grins, "A fine idea! Timing and preparation wins battles."
Listening to the others, Fauna ponders for a moment. "It's not much but I believe I can assist a bit in that regard as well. The undead have no place in nature. I follow Amah's will, and it's with her blessing that I'm able to draw the power to rebuke such.. abominations. I'm certain she will have good favor upon us."
"I think that temple is where I will be heading first then. If there is more knowledge to be gained on the matter it should be of help." Urgoth says as he finishes his drink, setting it on the bar. He nods to the others as he stands, moving toward the door. "If we are to work together then perhaps we should meet here and discuss what each of us learn."
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)