Mittens looks appreciatively at the decorations of the house. He was always curious about how people kept the interiors of their house because it always told him what the owner was like. It was a quirky habit, but he enjoyed.
After looking at the inside for a moment as everyone enters, Mittens realizes that they don't look very presentable. Being coated in blood wasn't an attractive sight, so with a few muttered words, the blood disappears from his clothes ((using prestidigitation to clean out the blood unless they changed into a different set of clothes on the way here an I missed reading it)). He offers the to do the same for everyone else.
When the meal is brought to him, he scarfs down the first few bites before remembering he was in civilized company. Slightly embarrassed, he slows down and eats a a normal pace. He remains silent through the meal time, knowing this wasn't the time for him to speak.
When kids are ushered to bed and the conversation about the axe starts, Mittens listens with great interest. He becomes a bit confused about the dwarven history as he had never really studied for too long. As he tries to recall want information he can about the history, he notices that Varielky is seemingly entranced with the decor upon the walls. His eyebrows furrow in confusion at her remarks, but he doesn't bother her. He didn't want to ruin the moment she was having.
History: 20
Mittens recalls the basic arc of Dwarven history. Granophyre Strewn's tale of Clan Scoria fits. Here is what Mittens recalls, and what Ednyss and Dolkum already know. For Varielky, it's a bit more sketchy:
Dwarves built the first great civilization, and created an enormous empire stretching across all of the inhabited lands. They were builders and technological innovators, death worshippers, and miners of gold and silver. They engaged heavily in sacrifice, and were brutal to the Elves and Humans, enslaving other races and accumulating wealth.
The only power to withstand them were the Old Mystics, a group of wizards of incredible ability who lived on an island located in the northern sea, where Ixtopyl now sits. Dwarves paid the Mystics well to create the vast infrastructure of transportation which enabled the empire to exist without crumbing from its own weight.
Dwarves meanwhile secretly developed the Great Hammer, a weapon capable of piercing the Old Mystics' defenses, and unleashed its power, overwhelming the ancient mages. The Mystics' island was destroyed, incinerated, as the earth opened up beneath it, rose and swallowed it whole, crushing it and all who lived there. However, this came at an existential cost. The power of the Great Hammer pierced the world's veil, opening the skies, and the Dwarf lands fell under the step of the Wandering God. Their native land was smashed to bits, earthquakes raged for centuries, and nearly all life was destroyed in sweeping tidal waves and black rain.
Throughout the world, the Dwarven Empire fell as elves and humans and the rest overthrew them. In their decimated homeland, now a scattering of islands, whose green forests and fertile farmlands were compressed to coal and obsidian by the Passing God's step, Dwarves kept to their tunnels, technology fell into disrepair, was scavenged for other uses, and their civilization fell into a dark age. Over millennia, they grew again, first as disconnected tribes, and then over hundreds of years, regaining strength and now standing as independent nations on the global stage, the Five Cores of the Dwarven Isles.
Dwarves are now reclusive, seldom leaving their own lands, and they quietly worship deities of craftmanship, humility, and prosperity. However, they have redeveloped many of their old skills and some of the Old Mystics weakest magic has likewise added to their might.
Dolkum gave his amulet a squeeze, observing Ednys' brief stepping out and knowing the reason.
My compliments to the chef! So the axe is key to finding the Lost Core of Dacite? or of entering it?
Religion19
The axe is a mundane object -- it's just an axe -- but it is a missing link which, if you trust in the world's greatest scholar on the subject, proves the existence of Core of Dacite. Strewn believes that by tracing the history of the axe, first by journeying to the Vale of Deshar where Omar El Idrissid's mother was given it as a gift, he can, with the ancient map of the dwarven empire, find the entrance to the ancient realm of Clan Scoria. His plan is to locate the woman who gave it to El Idrissid's mother. Omar has detailed information about the whereabouts of the Shian village his mother protected, and Strewn will start the hunt there.
"This weapon," Varielky speaks to the gods, albeit speaking the words aloud. She doesn't ask for an answer, she doesn't need one. After she was guided to it in such a way, she'd accept anything - even if it were a mere stick or a pebble. "What is it? Why have you brought me in front of it? What is my mission?" Clearly, it was not simply for slaying foes. The gods must have something else in mind. Some purpose she could serve them that is more important than that she was already given.
Completely unaware of her surroundings, disregarding that she's in someone else's house, Varielky unsheathes the sword slowly until it leaves the scabbard entirely. She carefully studies the blade, the hilt and the runes. What do they mean?
Religion (or something else... Idk): 21 (-2 if it's Investigation/History or otherwise...)
(OOC: Varielky's religion roll helps her recognizes the runes Omar describes:)
Omar, who is standing nearby, a bit wary of her, now that she has drawn the blade in his living room without asking, answers Varielky a bit hesitantly. “Yes, that is an interesting piece, is it not. As you see, engraved down its length are runes of Takal Demesh, Moeitu, and Nanatya. It seems that there were once more runes, but they are now obscured. But the first glyph is something of a mystery. I believe it is the arms of a noble house of Drey. How a weapon thus inscribed found its way to Indallia, where I found it on my last journey there, is a mystery. Apparently, the family was engaged in worship of Dreyen Gods, and were destroyed by Jenghen shock troops, perhaps twenty years ago. Strange, that when I arrived some time after the family met this fate...this would have been the summer before last...I only had to dig a few inches under the earth to find a burned dais, and lying in its center, this longsword. You note that the sheath however is one-of-a-kind, a ceremonial Indallian pattern, perhaps 400 years old. Alas, traffic into Drey is heavily controlled by the Empire, so I have not been at liberty to learn more. The Empire does what it can to control our perceptions of its people, culture, identity, and history, and should it eventually achieve its goal of dominance, will have us believe that Drey simply never was."
As Omar speaks, examining the blade, turning Varielky's hand to flip the blade so that the light plays on one side, then the other, everyone except for the two of them notice something else.
In the exact center of Varielky's brow, a line of light has traced a slow pattern matching the first glyph on the sword. It is exactly the same size and shape.
Granophyre Strewn observes this shrewdly, while Adekite gasps, "My word!"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Varielky runs her hand over the runes, top to bottom, whispering the Dreyen name of the god related to each when her hand passes over it. "Natanya? Strange. I'd expect S- Ellosh here." Her tongue almost slipped. With all the talk about Drey, she almost called the goddess in her Dreyen name aloud. She observes the glyph for just one more moment. Why would it appear in her dream then? Was it only to lead her to this sword? Was there more to it? Then, Varielky sheathes the sword into its scabbard, which she then observes more interestedly.
You could use a scabbard in combat, but it's usually the last resort panic option and, if you're at that stage, it's usually too late already. For that reason, Varielky usually didn't give much thought to it. As long as it held her sword safely and protected it while she wasn't using it, she didn't really care what kind of scabbard it is. Yet, again, it was the scabbard that protected the sword to which she was guided by the gods. Could it tell her more about this sword? Maybe if she can understand the ceremony in which it was used - if it truly is a ceremonial pattern.
Religion: 13
"They could try, but that wouldn't change anything. One is not measured by the amount of land they conquered or the number of cultures they eradicated. Only those who proved themselves worthy and stayed so until their last breath ascend to Hallvala."Varielkyfinally turns towards Omar, still holding the sheathed sword in both hands. "Is there anything you would give this sword away for? Anything at all? Even if I don't have anything that would satisfy you now, maybe I would one day. At least, I could try."
Varielkyfinally turns towards Omar, still holding the sheathed sword in both hands. "Is there anything you would give this sword away for? Anything at all? Even if I don't have anything that would satisfy you now, maybe I would one day. At least, I could try."
As Varielky sheathes the sword, the glyph on her brow dims. Granophyre’s rumbly basso answers her. “Varielky, Would you kindly hand the sword to me?” If Varielky does, Granophyre then draws the blade. Varielky’s brow remains the same as he does so, smooth and warm in the firelight. Strewn looks at Adekite, while moving the hair from his brow with one hand. His forehead is wrinkled and glyph-less. Adekite shakes his head, a silent 'no.' Strewn then hands the sword back to her. “Would you kindly draw once again?” If she does, you all note that the glyph on her brow lights up once more, and one of you walks her to a mirror over the hearth, where she sees for herself.
Granophyre looks at Omar and the others to be sure all note this difference. “Omar,” he announces, “If every night at your house is as surprising as this one, I regret that it has taken so long to make your acquaintance.”
Omar smiles a bit weakly. “Indeed, no,” he responds. “This is quite surprising, to say the least.”
Granophyre continues, “I am most intrigued. Omar, with your leave, I do believe that this woman, and this sword, are meant to leave this meeting together. The sword and scabbard are quite valuable, I am certain, yet I would also presume based on our short acquaintance, that the monetary value may not be the most important factor to you. Still, would you allow me to recompense you for the items?”
Omar hesitates, “But Master Strewn, this seems so unorthodox…”
Strewn interrupts. “It is that, it is that. And yet, if you agree, I will have my Valet be in touch regarding terms.”
Omar thinks for a moment. “I have other items from Indallia which can certainly take the sword’s place in my little collection here. If you wish, then please. Varielky, take it. Even a mere academic such as myself…” “Tut, tut!”interject Adekite and Strewn both, but Omar continues, “...such as myself, can see that there is some magical link between you and the sword, which even you...even Master Strewn...cannot at this moment understand. Take it, and I shall find satisfaction in knowing that you shall be on the road to greater self-knowledge with it in your grasp. But be forewarned…” and with this, he himself takes the sword for a moment and draws it from its sheath… “I have sent this to the smithy -- a good one in Champions District -- to have this carbon scoring polished off, for display. There was nothing they could do, and the blade remains quite tarnished and also dull, for it seems impervious to sharpening.”
(OOC: Already wrote the entire thing and was only going through the post, making the places where Varielky speaks bolded and coloured when I accidentally closed the tab. Oof. There's no way I'll write it all the same and it was quite good so now I just need to not mess up too much. Damnit.)
Varielky hands the sword over to Granophyre' albeit reluctantly. When he returns it and asks her to draw it, she's a bit confused but does so regardless.
When she is brought before the mirror, Varielky isn't as surprised as you'd expect her to be. Not at all, in fact. It is very clear for her that the gods are guiding her already. Marking her with one of their symbols - even if she didn't know the meaning of it - was merely a way to guide the others as well. While it is not a surprise, it is definitely an unimagineable honour. At this point, all Varielky can do is kneel before the hearth - for that is where she was standing - and silently pray in gratitude while the others speak.
When she is done praying, Varielky stands up. "It seems I owe you a debt I might never be able to repay." She thanks both Granophyre and Omar. "At the very least, however, I can vow before the gods - for they are watching us now - to use this sword in order to protect you while you search for this... core. Furthermore, if you ever need my help, be not afraid to ask; I will gladly offer whatever help I can. As for sharpening the sword, it is either meant to stay this way or the gods will guide me to where it can be sharpened. All we need to do is trust the gods, and they will guide us."
Replying to Varielky, Granophyre is rather opaque. “Yes, yes. We shall see, we shall see. Certainly we shall see much in the coming weeks, and some of what we see may be of interest to the gods, to be sure.”
Talk returns to the journey to the Vale of Deshar, thanks for the meal and hospitality, the opera, but only briefly. Before saying good night, Granophyre turns to Omar. “The Governor will insist upon you following through with the lecture you promised him in two night’s time. Do not demure, it will seem suspicious. But neither must you answer questions about this meeting. Should he ask, tell him what I have told him before.” “You are following Kieu-Linh Tranh up the coast to her next performance.”
“Exactly. Now…” and once again he is looking for a small item in a vest pocket. He finds it and continues, “...take this. It is a clairvoyance stone, and here...” holding a second small stone, a perfect match for the first, “...is its twin. If you say the Dwarven phrase, <‘to speak with Granophyre Strewn,’> my stone will alert me. I will then utter a trigger phrase, and we will be connected. If you have urgent news, use the stone to contact me. Until then, keep it hidden.”
“Farewell Omar El Issidrid. May the Gods smile upon you.”
“And you, Master Strewn. Idiwala will show you the way.”
“Adekite, if only you could come with us. I miss your company my old friend. Be well, and may Sashia bring you bounty and repose.”
“Farewell, Granophyre. Write with haste when you have learned more. My soul burns to know the answer to this cypher.”
“Cypher, indeed. Farewell.”
You all exit, and the last you see of the home of Omar El Idrissid is the professor standing at his threshold, with a serious expression, nodding farewell and seeing the carriage on its way.
While you were inside, Flint finished off his plate, and Benita, who is rather sullen, ate nothing, with the result that Flint finished off hers, too. Quite pleased, and stifling belches of satisfaction, he clicks his tongue and sets the horse team in motion pulling the carriage back to Safi Meknes.
When you arrive back to the villa, 10 bells are quietly ringing. Granophyre and Tuff immediately head to the study to handle some paperwork and financial transactions. Flint tells you that you’ll be leaving at dawn, so be ready. Wad asks if anyone needs anything from the small basement armory. There are a couple of extra shields, and 4 crossbows, other “adventurer’s pack” odds and ends for those who want them. (OOC: Please take a moment to be sure you’re equipped for the coming overland journey, ask me via chat regarding specific items.)
Does anyone wish to do anything before turning in for the night?
All we need to do is trust the gods, and they will guide us."
(OOC: nice! I’ve done that too many times—started a post then it disappeared. Forum posting is a bit buggy, isn’t it. These days I write everything into a separate word doc and cut and paste.)
4 javelins and a hand axe will do for me, I'm thinking. I was most embaressed to have run out of weapons in the carriage house. If not, then one of the crossbows, please Flint.
With that, Dolkum takes his leave, prepares fir bed, and to pray in his turn -
Idiwalla, the munificent and loving kind, I again thank you for making me a dwarf. Thank you for brining me and my new friends to this place. I beseech your favour upon us that we have your guidance in our search for the answers and peace we each seek. Especially Varielky. Clearly the gods have something in mind for us, especially her, to have marked her thus. Grant us the courage to smite our enemies. the wisdom to know when to stay our hands, and the strength to do what is good and just, rather than what is quick and easy...
Seeing an opportunity rise before him, Mittens musters his courage and bounds after Benita. When he gets near her, he clears his throat awkwardly before stammering, "Hey, um, Benita. I, ah, I'm sorry for hurting you the other day. Ya know, back at the arena and all... It's just, um, you were attacking Varielky, and I was part of her squad way back when, so I figured I should help her out. It didn't hurt too badly, did it?" He trails off, realizing he had started to ramble. It was a bad habit he had when he was nervous .
Varielky wants to tell Benita about rhe sword but, when she gets close, she sees Mittens with her and decides to let the two talk it over alone. She'll tell her another time. Maybe Mittens and Benita didn't really have anything to talk about, but she was probably too involved in the case.
Instead, she just retires to her room where she practices a bit with her new sword; testing its balance, its exact length and weight and what not. A warrior who is not familiar with their weapon will not stay alive for long. Eventually, she doffs her armour and sets her shield and weapons by her bed before retiring for the night.
(OOC: Using docs sounds like a good idea for longer posts. I might try it in the future. In this case, btw, I can definitely say the second version isn't as good as the origial, sadly.)
Seeing an opportunity rise before him, Mittens musters his courage and bounds after Benita. When he gets near her, he clears his throat awkwardly before stammering, "Hey, um, Benita. I, ah, I'm sorry for hurting you the other day. Ya know, back at the arena and all... It's just, um, you were attacking Varielky, and I was part of her squad way back when, so I figured I should help her out. It didn't hurt too badly, did it?" He trails off, realizing he had started to ramble. It was a bad habit he had when he was nervous .
Benita regards Mittens silently. She smiles a bit wanly and says, “If you attacked me, I...do not remember it. It was so long ago, wasn’t it. The world shifts, without warning. How much colder it is, no? And all in an instant. Already so long ago. Or. Was it truly only yesterday?” She pauses, her expression blank for a moment before the Indallian focuses on Mittens again, and continues, “It is forgotten.” She looks around, seemingly surprised at her surroundings, sees Wad’s burly form coming through the door, and her countenance glows with joy for a moment. Then suddenly her expression is quizzical as he comes into the light, and her eyes are hooded, looking inward. “Excuse me,” she says quietly, and she then, rather listlessly, retreats up to her bedroom.
4 javelins and a hand axe will do for me, I'm thinking. I was most embaressed to have run out of weapons in the carriage house. If not, then one of the crossbows, please Flint.
With that, Dolkum takes his leave, prepares fir bed, and to pray in his turn -
Idiwalla, the munificent and loving kind, I again thank you for making me a dwarf. Thank you for brining me and my new friends to this place. I beseech your favour upon us that we have your guidance in our search for the answers and peace we each seek. Especially Varielky. Clearly the gods have something in mind for us, especially her, to have marked her thus. Grant us the courage to smite our enemies. the wisdom to know when to stay our hands, and the strength to do what is good and just, rather than what is quick and easy...
(OOC: This is the best evening prayer I have yet seen in a dnd context, and how generous is Dolkum's kind heart! Granting Dolkum a 2nd "dose" of inspiration for when he needs it. Yes for the javelins. They're Dwarven, which means they are built in two pieces which fit in a quiver. To assemble, just match ends, twist & lock, then throw. (Mechanically, no different from regular javelins, but more spiffy RP-wise. You can have a crossbow too, there will be a couple at the ready hanging on ready-racks on the carriage most of the time.))
Varielky wants to tell Benita about rhe sword but, when she gets close, she sees Mittens with her and decides to let the two talk it over alone. She'll tell her another time. Maybe Mittens and Benita didn't really have anything to talk about, but she was probably too involved in the case.
Instead, she just retires to her room where she practices a bit with her new sword; testing its balance, its exact length and weight and what not. A warrior who is not familiar with their weapon will not stay alive for long. Eventually, she doffs her armour and sets her shield and weapons by her bed before retiring for the night.
(OOC: Using docs sounds like a good idea for longer posts. I might try it in the future. In this case, btw, I can definitely say the second version isn't as good as the origial, sadly.)
Varielky has a few minutes to try out her sword before Benita enters. When she does, the attractive South Indallian points at Varielky’s brow, upon which the glyph is subtly glowing, and says in a monotone, “you...know you’ve got a...er...on your forehead?” Varielky perhaps quickly nods, because she, Varielky, may be a bit distracted, finding the weapon to be disappointing. Benita sighs, undresses and wraps herself in a blanket, lies on her pallet, blows out her candle, and turns quietly to face the wall.
Varielky, involved in her investigation, hardly notices, because the weapon is frustrating indeed. It seems poorly balanced, the hilt is uncomfortable, and something about it is reminding her of the limp handshake she received from Didark Gromimir, the very girthsome Chief of Garrison, who shook her hand briefly when she mustered out of the provincial regiment. She’s reminded of the limp, dead bodies of the poisoned Arena fighters. Perhaps, she might reason, she herself is merely exhausted, and things will go better when she has rested and has more room to move.
Ednyss is stunned silent at the thought of the hidden core. It takes all his effort to compose his face and simply act natural when the others speak of it. If Granophyre truly believes that he can find the Core of Dacite, then it could potentially be the key to restoring the Dwarven Empire to its glory. Of course he mustn't get ahead of himself and patience would be essential, but when the time was right, he himself could be partially responsible for bringing back what was undoubtedly the greatest empire of all time. Still caught up in these thoughts, he didn't notice when Varielky first pulled the sword off of the wall, but after the attention shifted to her, he turned to notice her holding the sword with the mark upon her forehead. At first, there was a tinge of anger as he wondered why the gods would bless a human in such a way. Even as formidable warrior as her was certainly not as worthy as another dwarf, he thought. Thinking back on the fights that they had endured together, however, and her bravery he ultimately decided that if the gods had deemed her worthy, then he should not be the one to question their judgement. Regardless, on the entire journey back, he is silent as he ruminates the possible meanings of this new development. By the time they arrive back at Safi Meknes, Ednyss has fully come to terms with Varielky's new status as divinely blessed, but a pang of disappointment that a lesser race was chosen for the honor remains. Other than that, Ednyss needs no more equipment and as he enters the villa, his aching body reminds him that he is in sore need of a night's rest. Heading up to his room, he lays his shield by the pallet and undresses before offering a final prayer to Takal Demesh. "Your blessings have survived us the day's conflict and for that I thank you. Your blessings have also brought me to this service and for that I thank you as well. Let your blessing continue to guide us, not always to victory, but at least to glory." With that, he climbs onto his pallet and spends a few minutes tracing the runes on his new War Pick and admiring the dwarven craftsmanship. Running his finger down its haft, he starts committing the runes to memory before his exhaustion eventually overcomes him and he turns over and lets the night take him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
As Benita walks off, Mittens stands there for a moment pondering what she said. With a slight shrug, he moves into the villa and tracks down Flint to ask a few questions. After getting the answers he sought, he snoops around the supplies offered as he hums a quiet tune under his breath. He comes out later with a small bundle of charcoal. He then goes to the kitchen area and raids the spice cabinet. He rummages around and eventually finds the herbs he needed with a slight, "Aha!" He straightens up the drawer (or whatever it is) and looks around for a brass pot of some kind. He spots and snatches that as well. It isn't as elegant as the brass brazier he used before, but he hoped his DIY ritual will work.
Now that he has the proper ingredients, he thinks for a moment of where he should cast the ritual. After a moment of pondering, he comes to the conclusion to do it outside. It made a lot of mess, and some people didn't like the smell it made. He ventures outside and finds a patch of stone large enough to suit his need. When he does, he places down the pot, pours most of the charcoal in, and then he lights it with a word. As the charcoal heats up, he takes an extra piece of charcoal and draws an arcane pentogram around the pot. He adds symbols and geometric designs to it, and when he is satisfied with his work, he draws a small, simple circle nearby for him in to sit in. He takes out a few candles of incense and places them to form a triangle around the smaller circle before he also lights them with a word.
He sprinkles handfuls of various herbs into the flickering flames before him, and fire begins to emit a fragrant smoke with hints of sage, thyme, and basil among other herbal scents. He plops down into the smaller circle and takes a moment to calm his mind before he begins to recite memorized words of power. His words take on a rhythm and intonation, and the smoke and fire pulse in synchronization. After almost ten minutes of this, the smoke gently drifts towards the ground and coalesces into the form of Pooky. Mittens breaks off his chant with a goof grin as he rushes over and scoops up his familiar. He says in the tone that people use for pets, "Oooh, I'm so sorry that happened to you. You know I didn't mean for that to happen."
Pooky vibrates in a way similar to a living cat, but no noise emanates from from his as Mittens places him upon his shoulder. Happy that he has his buddy back, Mittens goes about the task of cleaning up. He uses prestidigitation to clean up what he can, and after he cleans to his satisfaction, he returns all of his unused supplies back to their correct spots before turning in for the night
Frustrated, yet not dishearted, Varielky sets the weapon aside in the end. She's probably too use to her old sword, that is all. She did have it since she was enlisted in the Jenghen army, so over two years. Besides, if the sword really is special beyond religious or historical matters only, it might require a descrete study of its workings. Or, maybe, it only truly shines when it is used in a real battle. Either way, she sheathes the blade back into its scabbard and lays it under her shield. Then, she doffs her armour and gets undressed before entering under her blankets. After a minute, she realises she forgot to put out her candles, so she gets up and puts all of them out before returning to bed. Until she falls asleep, Varielky silently prays in gratitude once again, promising to serve the gods as she always had, or more if she can.
After everyone has retreated to their separate bedrooms and pallets, after all sounds of movement have ceased in the villa, even from the horses in the villa’s little carriage house, you all fall into a deep and tranquil sleep. Varielky, after everything that has transpired over the last two days, after barely sleeping the night before, falls into a deep slumber. When morning comes in the form of Wad rapping on the door at 5 bells, Varielky is not certain whether she has had another dream, or if reality edged in upon her, but she recalls hearing, deep into the night, the sound of Benita la Cass quietly stifling deep, deep sobs of grief.
As Dolkum says his night prayer and settles into bed -- a different one from the pallet on which he has slept every night of his life during his prior five years as an acolyte at the Temple of Idiwala -- he replays the day’s events in his mind drowsily, starting with his departure from the Temple, his introduction to the revered scholar Granophyre Strewn, and then on to the day’s adventures on the palace grounds. He envisions seeing, drinking from their flask, the two orange floral-liveried footmen -- who he now knows were in the employ of the Amazigh Family -- and he recalls the sorcerer atop the aqueduct, and his mind dwells for a moment on the rediscovery of those two footmen, dead, and missing their livery, in the Queen’s Arbor under the walls. One of them was quite a large Shian man, both overweight and muscular.
Dolkum fast-forwards to the moment, in the carriage house, when he was almost pinned beneath the wheel of the Amazigh carriage as its horses, spooked -- by the giant dragonflies inside their carriage, he now knows -- reared and kicked coming out of their stall. He recalls looking across at the footman holding the harness of the lead horse, how his livery was too large, how it was torn across the shoulder. He notices now, in his memory of the event, a detail which seemed insignificant in the heat of the moment: there was a footprint on the back of the livery shirt. A footprint, why was that important? Dolkum couldn’t pin it down, yet he felt his senses tingling as he dwelled on the memory, a pull, a brightening of his mind, which he recognizes as the working of Idiwala in his soul. He feels that this detail is essential.
Now fully awake, Dolkum continues replaying the events in his mind.
Dolkum relives the moment when he recognized that the person now wearing the livery was in fact wearing makeup, a disguise, impersonating the dead footman. But the Azhvuv could not make her form bigger, the livery was a size too large, he remembers. She was wearing the shirt which had belonged to the heavy-set dead man in the arbor. Dolkum sees the footman -- the Azhvuv, that is -- ride away with the carriage, Varielky atop it, when the horses bolt, and he does not see him -- her, that is -- again.
Dolkum fast-forwards to later, when his own carriage -- Granophyre Strewn’s carriage, that is -- queued along to exit the palace grounds after the concert. He remembers looking back and seeing the woman in the red dress, the man in white, the hand women, and their surprise when they saw a single seat closed coach marked with the sky blue imperial insignia -- just like the ones lining the wall of the carriage house -- arrive, with one man wearing the Amazigh livery in the driver’s seat.
Dolkum suddenly realizes. That man. His shirt was a size too large, was torn, and there on its back: a footprint. Someone new was wearing it. And Dolkum would be willing to bet that this new driver was a dead ringer for the first footman they had found, in every detail but his size, barely noticeable in the lantern light after the concert.
Dolkum remembers Mitten’s conversation with the Bakar Elite Captain, who muttered that someone else had been in the control room to keep the guard there from noticing that the aqueduct alarm was ringing. That’s how the sorcerer and four azhvuv and two dragonflies had entered the palace unnoticed.
If the Azhvuvs' mission was vengeance on the woman in red, the wife of Syphax Amazigh, perhaps they succeeded after all. For Dolkum saw her, the woman in red, enter the carriage, and in the name of Idiwala, Dolkum would swear with his last breath: the driver of that carriage was another of the Azhvuv in disguise!
(OOC: This is all the result of Dolkum’s very high perception roll earlier. I mentioned it would result in him putting two and two together about something, an hour or so later. But since the evening continued to be filled with interesting new developments, it took a bit longer than that. :)
Dolkum and Ednyss are sleeping in the same room in Safi Meknes. Does Dolkum share his Eureka moment, now or in the morning, or at some later point, with Ednyss or anyone else?)
When Varielky wakes up, she gets dressed and dons her armour. Then, she straps her old sword to her backpack. With the new sword the gods granted her, she doesn't expect to use it. Yet, if things get dire, she might need a backup before she can wield the new sword efficiently.
(OOC: I added a longsword to Varielky's inventory and named it "Dreyen Sword". For now, the sheet counts it as a normal longsword for anything other than its name.)
Varielky is not sure whether it was a dream or not, perhaps, but she knows Benita just lost a lot more than she did. She doesn't want to address it directly though so she'll only say this (if Benita is awake, of course): "Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. I was too excited about this new sword. If you ever want to talk with me, I'll listen. I'm here for you for whatever purpose you need me. If I'm too caught up on something," she tries to smile playfully, "you can hit me if you need to until I pay attention to you. Just you." She's a bit awkward now since it is a rather awkward thing to say, so she'll excuse herself out of the room and head down, ready to depart for their journey to find a dwarven core or something. In truth, it didn't really matter for her. The core, by itself, was probably the last thing on her mind right now.
Mittens recalls the basic arc of Dwarven history. Granophyre Strewn's tale of Clan Scoria fits. Here is what Mittens recalls, and what Ednyss and Dolkum already know. For Varielky, it's a bit more sketchy:
Dwarves built the first great civilization, and created an enormous empire stretching across all of the inhabited lands. They were builders and technological innovators, death worshippers, and miners of gold and silver. They engaged heavily in sacrifice, and were brutal to the Elves and Humans, enslaving other races and accumulating wealth.
The only power to withstand them were the Old Mystics, a group of wizards of incredible ability who lived on an island located in the northern sea, where Ixtopyl now sits. Dwarves paid the Mystics well to create the vast infrastructure of transportation which enabled the empire to exist without crumbing from its own weight.
Dwarves meanwhile secretly developed the Great Hammer, a weapon capable of piercing the Old Mystics' defenses, and unleashed its power, overwhelming the ancient mages. The Mystics' island was destroyed, incinerated, as the earth opened up beneath it, rose and swallowed it whole, crushing it and all who lived there. However, this came at an existential cost. The power of the Great Hammer pierced the world's veil, opening the skies, and the Dwarf lands fell under the step of the Wandering God. Their native land was smashed to bits, earthquakes raged for centuries, and nearly all life was destroyed in sweeping tidal waves and black rain.
Throughout the world, the Dwarven Empire fell as elves and humans and the rest overthrew them. In their decimated homeland, now a scattering of islands, whose green forests and fertile farmlands were compressed to coal and obsidian by the Passing God's step, Dwarves kept to their tunnels, technology fell into disrepair, was scavenged for other uses, and their civilization fell into a dark age. Over millennia, they grew again, first as disconnected tribes, and then over hundreds of years, regaining strength and now standing as independent nations on the global stage, the Five Cores of the Dwarven Isles.
Dwarves are now reclusive, seldom leaving their own lands, and they quietly worship deities of craftmanship, humility, and prosperity. However, they have redeveloped many of their old skills and some of the Old Mystics weakest magic has likewise added to their might.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
The axe is a mundane object -- it's just an axe -- but it is a missing link which, if you trust in the world's greatest scholar on the subject, proves the existence of Core of Dacite. Strewn believes that by tracing the history of the axe, first by journeying to the Vale of Deshar where Omar El Idrissid's mother was given it as a gift, he can, with the ancient map of the dwarven empire, find the entrance to the ancient realm of Clan Scoria. His plan is to locate the woman who gave it to El Idrissid's mother. Omar has detailed information about the whereabouts of the Shian village his mother protected, and Strewn will start the hunt there.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
(OOC: Varielky's religion roll helps her recognizes the runes Omar describes:)
Omar, who is standing nearby, a bit wary of her, now that she has drawn the blade in his living room without asking, answers Varielky a bit hesitantly. “Yes, that is an interesting piece, is it not. As you see, engraved down its length are runes of Takal Demesh, Moeitu, and Nanatya. It seems that there were once more runes, but they are now obscured. But the first glyph is something of a mystery. I believe it is the arms of a noble house of Drey. How a weapon thus inscribed found its way to Indallia, where I found it on my last journey there, is a mystery. Apparently, the family was engaged in worship of Dreyen Gods, and were destroyed by Jenghen shock troops, perhaps twenty years ago. Strange, that when I arrived some time after the family met this fate...this would have been the summer before last...I only had to dig a few inches under the earth to find a burned dais, and lying in its center, this longsword. You note that the sheath however is one-of-a-kind, a ceremonial Indallian pattern, perhaps 400 years old. Alas, traffic into Drey is heavily controlled by the Empire, so I have not been at liberty to learn more. The Empire does what it can to control our perceptions of its people, culture, identity, and history, and should it eventually achieve its goal of dominance, will have us believe that Drey simply never was."
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
As Omar speaks, examining the blade, turning Varielky's hand to flip the blade so that the light plays on one side, then the other, everyone except for the two of them notice something else.
In the exact center of Varielky's brow, a line of light has traced a slow pattern matching the first glyph on the sword. It is exactly the same size and shape.
Granophyre Strewn observes this shrewdly, while Adekite gasps, "My word!"
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Varielky runs her hand over the runes, top to bottom, whispering the Dreyen name of the god related to each when her hand passes over it. "Natanya? Strange. I'd expect S- Ellosh here." Her tongue almost slipped. With all the talk about Drey, she almost called the goddess in her Dreyen name aloud. She observes the glyph for just one more moment. Why would it appear in her dream then? Was it only to lead her to this sword? Was there more to it? Then, Varielky sheathes the sword into its scabbard, which she then observes more interestedly.
You could use a scabbard in combat, but it's usually the last resort panic option and, if you're at that stage, it's usually too late already. For that reason, Varielky usually didn't give much thought to it. As long as it held her sword safely and protected it while she wasn't using it, she didn't really care what kind of scabbard it is. Yet, again, it was the scabbard that protected the sword to which she was guided by the gods. Could it tell her more about this sword? Maybe if she can understand the ceremony in which it was used - if it truly is a ceremonial pattern.
Religion: 13
"They could try, but that wouldn't change anything. One is not measured by the amount of land they conquered or the number of cultures they eradicated. Only those who proved themselves worthy and stayed so until their last breath ascend to Hallvala." Varielky finally turns towards Omar, still holding the sheathed sword in both hands. "Is there anything you would give this sword away for? Anything at all? Even if I don't have anything that would satisfy you now, maybe I would one day. At least, I could try."
Varielky
As Varielky sheathes the sword, the glyph on her brow dims. Granophyre’s rumbly basso answers her. “Varielky, Would you kindly hand the sword to me?” If Varielky does, Granophyre then draws the blade. Varielky’s brow remains the same as he does so, smooth and warm in the firelight. Strewn looks at Adekite, while moving the hair from his brow with one hand. His forehead is wrinkled and glyph-less. Adekite shakes his head, a silent 'no.' Strewn then hands the sword back to her. “Would you kindly draw once again?” If she does, you all note that the glyph on her brow lights up once more, and one of you walks her to a mirror over the hearth, where she sees for herself.
Granophyre looks at Omar and the others to be sure all note this difference. “Omar,” he announces, “If every night at your house is as surprising as this one, I regret that it has taken so long to make your acquaintance.”
Omar smiles a bit weakly. “Indeed, no,” he responds. “This is quite surprising, to say the least.”
Granophyre continues, “I am most intrigued. Omar, with your leave, I do believe that this woman, and this sword, are meant to leave this meeting together. The sword and scabbard are quite valuable, I am certain, yet I would also presume based on our short acquaintance, that the monetary value may not be the most important factor to you. Still, would you allow me to recompense you for the items?”
Omar hesitates, “But Master Strewn, this seems so unorthodox…”
Strewn interrupts. “It is that, it is that. And yet, if you agree, I will have my Valet be in touch regarding terms.”
Omar thinks for a moment. “I have other items from Indallia which can certainly take the sword’s place in my little collection here. If you wish, then please. Varielky, take it. Even a mere academic such as myself…” “Tut, tut!” interject Adekite and Strewn both, but Omar continues, “...such as myself, can see that there is some magical link between you and the sword, which even you...even Master Strewn...cannot at this moment understand. Take it, and I shall find satisfaction in knowing that you shall be on the road to greater self-knowledge with it in your grasp. But be forewarned…” and with this, he himself takes the sword for a moment and draws it from its sheath… “I have sent this to the smithy -- a good one in Champions District -- to have this carbon scoring polished off, for display. There was nothing they could do, and the blade remains quite tarnished and also dull, for it seems impervious to sharpening.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
(OOC: Already wrote the entire thing and was only going through the post, making the places where Varielky speaks bolded and coloured when I accidentally closed the tab. Oof. There's no way I'll write it all the same and it was quite good so now I just need to not mess up too much. Damnit.)
Varielky hands the sword over to Granophyre' albeit reluctantly. When he returns it and asks her to draw it, she's a bit confused but does so regardless.
When she is brought before the mirror, Varielky isn't as surprised as you'd expect her to be. Not at all, in fact. It is very clear for her that the gods are guiding her already. Marking her with one of their symbols - even if she didn't know the meaning of it - was merely a way to guide the others as well. While it is not a surprise, it is definitely an unimagineable honour. At this point, all Varielky can do is kneel before the hearth - for that is where she was standing - and silently pray in gratitude while the others speak.
When she is done praying, Varielky stands up. "It seems I owe you a debt I might never be able to repay." She thanks both Granophyre and Omar. "At the very least, however, I can vow before the gods - for they are watching us now - to use this sword in order to protect you while you search for this... core. Furthermore, if you ever need my help, be not afraid to ask; I will gladly offer whatever help I can. As for sharpening the sword, it is either meant to stay this way or the gods will guide me to where it can be sharpened. All we need to do is trust the gods, and they will guide us."
Varielky
POST #3
Replying to Varielky, Granophyre is rather opaque. “Yes, yes. We shall see, we shall see. Certainly we shall see much in the coming weeks, and some of what we see may be of interest to the gods, to be sure.”
Talk returns to the journey to the Vale of Deshar, thanks for the meal and hospitality, the opera, but only briefly. Before saying good night, Granophyre turns to Omar. “The Governor will insist upon you following through with the lecture you promised him in two night’s time. Do not demure, it will seem suspicious. But neither must you answer questions about this meeting. Should he ask, tell him what I have told him before.”
“You are following Kieu-Linh Tranh up the coast to her next performance.”
“Exactly. Now…” and once again he is looking for a small item in a vest pocket. He finds it and continues, “...take this. It is a clairvoyance stone, and here...” holding a second small stone, a perfect match for the first, “...is its twin. If you say the Dwarven phrase, <‘to speak with Granophyre Strewn,’> my stone will alert me. I will then utter a trigger phrase, and we will be connected. If you have urgent news, use the stone to contact me. Until then, keep it hidden.”
“Farewell Omar El Issidrid. May the Gods smile upon you.”
“And you, Master Strewn. Idiwala will show you the way.”
“Adekite, if only you could come with us. I miss your company my old friend. Be well, and may Sashia bring you bounty and repose.”
“Farewell, Granophyre. Write with haste when you have learned more. My soul burns to know the answer to this cypher.”
“Cypher, indeed. Farewell.”
You all exit, and the last you see of the home of Omar El Idrissid is the professor standing at his threshold, with a serious expression, nodding farewell and seeing the carriage on its way.
While you were inside, Flint finished off his plate, and Benita, who is rather sullen, ate nothing, with the result that Flint finished off hers, too. Quite pleased, and stifling belches of satisfaction, he clicks his tongue and sets the horse team in motion pulling the carriage back to Safi Meknes.
When you arrive back to the villa, 10 bells are quietly ringing. Granophyre and Tuff immediately head to the study to handle some paperwork and financial transactions. Flint tells you that you’ll be leaving at dawn, so be ready. Wad asks if anyone needs anything from the small basement armory. There are a couple of extra shields, and 4 crossbows, other “adventurer’s pack” odds and ends for those who want them. (OOC: Please take a moment to be sure you’re equipped for the coming overland journey, ask me via chat regarding specific items.)
Does anyone wish to do anything before turning in for the night?
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
(OOC: nice! I’ve done that too many times—started a post then it disappeared. Forum posting is a bit buggy, isn’t it. These days I write everything into a separate word doc and cut and paste.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
4 javelins and a hand axe will do for me, I'm thinking. I was most embaressed to have run out of weapons in the carriage house. If not, then one of the crossbows, please Flint.
With that, Dolkum takes his leave, prepares fir bed, and to pray in his turn -
Idiwalla, the munificent and loving kind, I again thank you for making me a dwarf. Thank you for brining me and my new friends to this place. I beseech your favour upon us that we have your guidance in our search for the answers and peace we each seek. Especially Varielky. Clearly the gods have something in mind for us, especially her, to have marked her thus. Grant us the courage to smite our enemies. the wisdom to know when to stay our hands, and the strength to do what is good and just, rather than what is quick and easy...
Seeing an opportunity rise before him, Mittens musters his courage and bounds after Benita. When he gets near her, he clears his throat awkwardly before stammering, "Hey, um, Benita. I, ah, I'm sorry for hurting you the other day. Ya know, back at the arena and all... It's just, um, you were attacking Varielky, and I was part of her squad way back when, so I figured I should help her out. It didn't hurt too badly, did it?" He trails off, realizing he had started to ramble. It was a bad habit he had when he was nervous .
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
Varielky wants to tell Benita about rhe sword but, when she gets close, she sees Mittens with her and decides to let the two talk it over alone. She'll tell her another time. Maybe Mittens and Benita didn't really have anything to talk about, but she was probably too involved in the case.
Instead, she just retires to her room where she practices a bit with her new sword; testing its balance, its exact length and weight and what not. A warrior who is not familiar with their weapon will not stay alive for long. Eventually, she doffs her armour and sets her shield and weapons by her bed before retiring for the night.
(OOC: Using docs sounds like a good idea for longer posts. I might try it in the future. In this case, btw, I can definitely say the second version isn't as good as the origial, sadly.)
Varielky
Benita regards Mittens silently. She smiles a bit wanly and says, “If you attacked me, I...do not remember it. It was so long ago, wasn’t it. The world shifts, without warning. How much colder it is, no? And all in an instant. Already so long ago. Or. Was it truly only yesterday?” She pauses, her expression blank for a moment before the Indallian focuses on Mittens again, and continues, “It is forgotten.” She looks around, seemingly surprised at her surroundings, sees Wad’s burly form coming through the door, and her countenance glows with joy for a moment. Then suddenly her expression is quizzical as he comes into the light, and her eyes are hooded, looking inward. “Excuse me,” she says quietly, and she then, rather listlessly, retreats up to her bedroom.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
(OOC: This is the best evening prayer I have yet seen in a dnd context, and how generous is Dolkum's kind heart! Granting Dolkum a 2nd "dose" of inspiration for when he needs it. Yes for the javelins. They're Dwarven, which means they are built in two pieces which fit in a quiver. To assemble, just match ends, twist & lock, then throw. (Mechanically, no different from regular javelins, but more spiffy RP-wise. You can have a crossbow too, there will be a couple at the ready hanging on ready-racks on the carriage most of the time.))
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Varielky has a few minutes to try out her sword before Benita enters. When she does, the attractive South Indallian points at Varielky’s brow, upon which the glyph is subtly glowing, and says in a monotone, “you...know you’ve got a...er...on your forehead?” Varielky perhaps quickly nods, because she, Varielky, may be a bit distracted, finding the weapon to be disappointing. Benita sighs, undresses and wraps herself in a blanket, lies on her pallet, blows out her candle, and turns quietly to face the wall.
Varielky, involved in her investigation, hardly notices, because the weapon is frustrating indeed. It seems poorly balanced, the hilt is uncomfortable, and something about it is reminding her of the limp handshake she received from Didark Gromimir, the very girthsome Chief of Garrison, who shook her hand briefly when she mustered out of the provincial regiment. She’s reminded of the limp, dead bodies of the poisoned Arena fighters. Perhaps, she might reason, she herself is merely exhausted, and things will go better when she has rested and has more room to move.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Ednyss is stunned silent at the thought of the hidden core. It takes all his effort to compose his face and simply act natural when the others speak of it. If Granophyre truly believes that he can find the Core of Dacite, then it could potentially be the key to restoring the Dwarven Empire to its glory. Of course he mustn't get ahead of himself and patience would be essential, but when the time was right, he himself could be partially responsible for bringing back what was undoubtedly the greatest empire of all time. Still caught up in these thoughts, he didn't notice when Varielky first pulled the sword off of the wall, but after the attention shifted to her, he turned to notice her holding the sword with the mark upon her forehead. At first, there was a tinge of anger as he wondered why the gods would bless a human in such a way. Even as formidable warrior as her was certainly not as worthy as another dwarf, he thought. Thinking back on the fights that they had endured together, however, and her bravery he ultimately decided that if the gods had deemed her worthy, then he should not be the one to question their judgement. Regardless, on the entire journey back, he is silent as he ruminates the possible meanings of this new development. By the time they arrive back at Safi Meknes, Ednyss has fully come to terms with Varielky's new status as divinely blessed, but a pang of disappointment that a lesser race was chosen for the honor remains. Other than that, Ednyss needs no more equipment and as he enters the villa, his aching body reminds him that he is in sore need of a night's rest. Heading up to his room, he lays his shield by the pallet and undresses before offering a final prayer to Takal Demesh. "Your blessings have survived us the day's conflict and for that I thank you. Your blessings have also brought me to this service and for that I thank you as well. Let your blessing continue to guide us, not always to victory, but at least to glory." With that, he climbs onto his pallet and spends a few minutes tracing the runes on his new War Pick and admiring the dwarven craftsmanship. Running his finger down its haft, he starts committing the runes to memory before his exhaustion eventually overcomes him and he turns over and lets the night take him.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
As Benita walks off, Mittens stands there for a moment pondering what she said. With a slight shrug, he moves into the villa and tracks down Flint to ask a few questions. After getting the answers he sought, he snoops around the supplies offered as he hums a quiet tune under his breath. He comes out later with a small bundle of charcoal. He then goes to the kitchen area and raids the spice cabinet. He rummages around and eventually finds the herbs he needed with a slight, "Aha!" He straightens up the drawer (or whatever it is) and looks around for a brass pot of some kind. He spots and snatches that as well. It isn't as elegant as the brass brazier he used before, but he hoped his DIY ritual will work.
Now that he has the proper ingredients, he thinks for a moment of where he should cast the ritual. After a moment of pondering, he comes to the conclusion to do it outside. It made a lot of mess, and some people didn't like the smell it made. He ventures outside and finds a patch of stone large enough to suit his need. When he does, he places down the pot, pours most of the charcoal in, and then he lights it with a word. As the charcoal heats up, he takes an extra piece of charcoal and draws an arcane pentogram around the pot. He adds symbols and geometric designs to it, and when he is satisfied with his work, he draws a small, simple circle nearby for him in to sit in. He takes out a few candles of incense and places them to form a triangle around the smaller circle before he also lights them with a word.
He sprinkles handfuls of various herbs into the flickering flames before him, and fire begins to emit a fragrant smoke with hints of sage, thyme, and basil among other herbal scents. He plops down into the smaller circle and takes a moment to calm his mind before he begins to recite memorized words of power. His words take on a rhythm and intonation, and the smoke and fire pulse in synchronization. After almost ten minutes of this, the smoke gently drifts towards the ground and coalesces into the form of Pooky. Mittens breaks off his chant with a goof grin as he rushes over and scoops up his familiar. He says in the tone that people use for pets, "Oooh, I'm so sorry that happened to you. You know I didn't mean for that to happen."
Pooky vibrates in a way similar to a living cat, but no noise emanates from from his as Mittens places him upon his shoulder. Happy that he has his buddy back, Mittens goes about the task of cleaning up. He uses prestidigitation to clean up what he can, and after he cleans to his satisfaction, he returns all of his unused supplies back to their correct spots before turning in for the night
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
Frustrated, yet not dishearted, Varielky sets the weapon aside in the end. She's probably too use to her old sword, that is all. She did have it since she was enlisted in the Jenghen army, so over two years. Besides, if the sword really is special beyond religious or historical matters only, it might require a descrete study of its workings. Or, maybe, it only truly shines when it is used in a real battle. Either way, she sheathes the blade back into its scabbard and lays it under her shield. Then, she doffs her armour and gets undressed before entering under her blankets. After a minute, she realises she forgot to put out her candles, so she gets up and puts all of them out before returning to bed. Until she falls asleep, Varielky silently prays in gratitude once again, promising to serve the gods as she always had, or more if she can.
Varielky
POST #4
After everyone has retreated to their separate bedrooms and pallets, after all sounds of movement have ceased in the villa, even from the horses in the villa’s little carriage house, you all fall into a deep and tranquil sleep. Varielky, after everything that has transpired over the last two days, after barely sleeping the night before, falls into a deep slumber. When morning comes in the form of Wad rapping on the door at 5 bells, Varielky is not certain whether she has had another dream, or if reality edged in upon her, but she recalls hearing, deep into the night, the sound of Benita la Cass quietly stifling deep, deep sobs of grief.
As Dolkum says his night prayer and settles into bed -- a different one from the pallet on which he has slept every night of his life during his prior five years as an acolyte at the Temple of Idiwala -- he replays the day’s events in his mind drowsily, starting with his departure from the Temple, his introduction to the revered scholar Granophyre Strewn, and then on to the day’s adventures on the palace grounds. He envisions seeing, drinking from their flask, the two orange floral-liveried footmen -- who he now knows were in the employ of the Amazigh Family -- and he recalls the sorcerer atop the aqueduct, and his mind dwells for a moment on the rediscovery of those two footmen, dead, and missing their livery, in the Queen’s Arbor under the walls. One of them was quite a large Shian man, both overweight and muscular.
Dolkum fast-forwards to the moment, in the carriage house, when he was almost pinned beneath the wheel of the Amazigh carriage as its horses, spooked -- by the giant dragonflies inside their carriage, he now knows -- reared and kicked coming out of their stall. He recalls looking across at the footman holding the harness of the lead horse, how his livery was too large, how it was torn across the shoulder. He notices now, in his memory of the event, a detail which seemed insignificant in the heat of the moment: there was a footprint on the back of the livery shirt. A footprint, why was that important? Dolkum couldn’t pin it down, yet he felt his senses tingling as he dwelled on the memory, a pull, a brightening of his mind, which he recognizes as the working of Idiwala in his soul. He feels that this detail is essential.
Now fully awake, Dolkum continues replaying the events in his mind.
Dolkum relives the moment when he recognized that the person now wearing the livery was in fact wearing makeup, a disguise, impersonating the dead footman. But the Azhvuv could not make her form bigger, the livery was a size too large, he remembers. She was wearing the shirt which had belonged to the heavy-set dead man in the arbor. Dolkum sees the footman -- the Azhvuv, that is -- ride away with the carriage, Varielky atop it, when the horses bolt, and he does not see him -- her, that is -- again.
Dolkum fast-forwards to later, when his own carriage -- Granophyre Strewn’s carriage, that is -- queued along to exit the palace grounds after the concert. He remembers looking back and seeing the woman in the red dress, the man in white, the hand women, and their surprise when they saw a single seat closed coach marked with the sky blue imperial insignia -- just like the ones lining the wall of the carriage house -- arrive, with one man wearing the Amazigh livery in the driver’s seat.
Dolkum suddenly realizes. That man. His shirt was a size too large, was torn, and there on its back: a footprint. Someone new was wearing it. And Dolkum would be willing to bet that this new driver was a dead ringer for the first footman they had found, in every detail but his size, barely noticeable in the lantern light after the concert.
Dolkum remembers Mitten’s conversation with the Bakar Elite Captain, who muttered that someone else had been in the control room to keep the guard there from noticing that the aqueduct alarm was ringing. That’s how the sorcerer and four azhvuv and two dragonflies had entered the palace unnoticed.
If the Azhvuvs' mission was vengeance on the woman in red, the wife of Syphax Amazigh, perhaps they succeeded after all. For Dolkum saw her, the woman in red, enter the carriage, and in the name of Idiwala, Dolkum would swear with his last breath: the driver of that carriage was another of the Azhvuv in disguise!
(OOC: This is all the result of Dolkum’s very high perception roll earlier. I mentioned it would result in him putting two and two together about something, an hour or so later. But since the evening continued to be filled with interesting new developments, it took a bit longer than that. :)
Dolkum and Ednyss are sleeping in the same room in Safi Meknes. Does Dolkum share his Eureka moment, now or in the morning, or at some later point, with Ednyss or anyone else?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
When Varielky wakes up, she gets dressed and dons her armour. Then, she straps her old sword to her backpack. With the new sword the gods granted her, she doesn't expect to use it. Yet, if things get dire, she might need a backup before she can wield the new sword efficiently.
(OOC: I added a longsword to Varielky's inventory and named it "Dreyen Sword". For now, the sheet counts it as a normal longsword for anything other than its name.)
Varielky is not sure whether it was a dream or not, perhaps, but she knows Benita just lost a lot more than she did. She doesn't want to address it directly though so she'll only say this (if Benita is awake, of course): "Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. I was too excited about this new sword. If you ever want to talk with me, I'll listen. I'm here for you for whatever purpose you need me. If I'm too caught up on something," she tries to smile playfully, "you can hit me if you need to until I pay attention to you. Just you." She's a bit awkward now since it is a rather awkward thing to say, so she'll excuse herself out of the room and head down, ready to depart for their journey to find a dwarven core or something. In truth, it didn't really matter for her. The core, by itself, was probably the last thing on her mind right now.
Varielky