It is the morning of Arilyth 42nd, mid-spring. You six travelers have made your way into the small farming town of Aoswell. It is a sleepy, humbly constructed town, that is except for the lone keep in the area. You have heard word and seen postings pleading with mercenaries like yourselves for aid.
As you all wake up or arrive here you see a crowd forming. It is a few hours until noon when it seems that the entire town has gathered here in the center of the buildings, arguing loudly.
Jasper snaps his latest book shut and looks up from under the wide, flat brim of his hat. "Pssst. Maggwn, shall we? Our latest clients eagerly await our arrival!"
A thin tabaxi with light brown hair strides towards the town center. His long pointed ears have tufts of hair at the tip and fit well through holes in his perfectly tailored crimson hat. Smoothly leaping upon something such as stone wall, cart or up the side of a building a bit with his climbing skills Jasper aims to ensure his audience can see him. Taking a moment to instruct his cloak to billow in a showy manner reveals a long tail and a fine, long, thin elven sword at his hip.
"Greatings fine people of Aoswell! As you gather in anticipation of our arrival know that Jasper and his most adept companion are here to ascertain the fate of those in your keep! Now, now, I can't meet you all at once, but we can start with you..." Jasper sets his eyes on the most attractive humanoid he can find in the crowd.
Kass sighs as she takes a seat on a nearby low wall, her suit of magical armor clanking against the stone. The helmet unfolds and detracts and reveals a young hobgoblin woman with ruddy red skin and a long black undercut streaked with gray, her face locked in an annoyed-looking grimace. She digs around in her backpack and pulls out a sparking screwdriver, which she immediately uses to tighten something on her left hand's gauntlet. "Maabet, the servos are acting up again. Khaavolar! We're lucky, shava Aalsan, that this problem struck while we are not on the road,"Kass curses, wincing as the tool sparks and pops as she works on her armor. She lets out a huff a few moments later, puts away the tool, then expands and contracts her fingers. "Skai, it is now fixed. What are these people gathered for? Do you know, Aalsan?"
The swift rushing of wind in the glen, the gentle patter of the forest brook on its bed of stones and moss, the trees creaking in their ever-moving stillness. Temuth's children. Whispering. Laughing. Sighing.
Screaming.
There had been screaming of late. Not always sound in the air. Crannoc Greenthorn senses it in the roots of his dryad grandmother's great heart tree and in the unease of the wandering wood elves. The... dissonance, something beyond what outsiders would simply call "Nature, red in tooth and claw." Not the natural order of things
War. And perhaps worse. Something is wrong.
And so Crannoc had ventured out from his beloved forest home. Spurred by the wounds he feels in the very skein of Nature itself. Searching for some cause outside the world he knows. Sent on behalf of all Temuth's creations. But not knowing exactly why or how or what. North the voices and sounds had urged him, from his forest home on the western Ropenhaven Slopes. To the human settlement of Aoswell, in Vexcall. Or North Vexcall? In truth, Crannoc does not remember. Or care much.
He strides with a confidence he does not fully feel, his own divine magic from his aasimar father singing in his veins in harmony with Nature's whispers. A sycamore seedling floating and dancing around him, drifting, turning, falling, yet somehow never reaching the ground. His brown eyes watchful as if both predator and prey at once. Reaching out with the ageless senses of the tall trees.
Crannoc senses the commotion in the... town... before he truly sees or hears it. Like a wolfpack without its leader, a beehive without its queen, a grove with its entwined roots withered, turning and pulsing in ungrounded confusion. The milling people. He recoils a little but forces him to continue into the town, sycamore seedling whirling up above his head in agitation.
He arrives just in time to see the... Tabaxi? Jumping to a raised area and addressing the crowd, flashing and showing as much like a bird with its plumage as a cat. Something about those in the keep. Perhaps this is a place to start. He notices the armored hobgoblin also watching as he is once she finishes working on the metal fit to her left hand. He stops and breathes the air gradually, attempting not to wrinkle his nose at the ubiquitous sweat and stench of so many humans together. The sycamore seedling settles into a slow, wide, circular path around him as Crannoc Greenthorn reaches out to Temuth and listens with his heart.
Miesha leans against the wall sipping her warm drink and watching the crowd. She's been here a couple days now, enough for the people to grow accustomed to her presence. She still got looks from people as they passed taking in her metallic bronze skin but the gasps and the crowding around had ended at least. She had been ready to investigate alone but the townsfolk had insisted she wait for others. "This is not a job for a lone warrior," they had insisted. "No matter how skilled." Miesha Breen had bristled but accepted this, after a bit. Numbers did matter...
Now, at last, she saw others arriving. And she thought she had made an odd appearance in this sleepy little town! The one calling themself Jasper seemed to have quite the flair for the dramatic. If he was as good with the sword as he was at drawing attention then he would definitely be useful. If not, sometime a distraction is all you need. And is that a Hobgoblin in that armor(?) atop that wall? An odd sight in odder armor...
And that one there? Well Miesha wasn't sure what to make of them, yet, but they definitely weren't locals. Same as a couple of others she spotted. Well and all, probably about time to try to kick this thing into motion then, she supposed. Taking up her weapons - Bow and quiver on her back, shield upon her arm and spear in her other, resting upon her shoulder, Miesha marches into the crowd, through it and to the front of it.
"Alrighty then!" She all but shouts in order to grab the masses attention. "Who is in charge here? And how's about you tell us what you need from us?"
Maggwyn stands in the shadows near Jasper and as he starts his typical flourished greeting, she shakes her head and tries to steer clear. She doesn’t need everyone to know that cat is her friend. She smirks to herself, damn thing knows how to live though. Oh goodness, he’s even got the cloak flowing, he’s pulling out all the stops for this one, she thinks and holds her forehead in her hand and sighs.
The tiefling then looks out to the gathering of supposed heros that are coming to the call for help at Aoswell. She’s a tall creature with long white/gray wavy hair down her back, with rare dual horns on each side of her head. She leans on the well worn staff of her glaive that is adorned with a couple feathers and rings. The staff itself appears black with some engravings that match the leather armor she wears. There is a slight shine off of the gauntlets she wears that contrast with the muting of the leather.
As the bronze colored one steps forth and commands for the one in charge, Maggwyn crosses her arms and leans back, waiting to see what happens next.
"Maybe it is an execution?" Aalsan replied in his usual curious tone, as if he were talking about some kind of festival about to happen, in regards to the gathering crowds. The voice belonged to a fair skinned, blue eyed, dark haired elf -- seemingly a common moon elf if one were versed with such particulars -- dressed in generic traveler's clothes. It, of course, was not the true form of Aalsan Inaleth that Kass knew but rather Aalsan's 'stranger danger' version. Or the guise he put whenever they ventured into new villages or places. It drew less attention, or more specifically, less attention to him while the remainder went to Kass. It was an arrangement that worked for them both and made for convenient travel companions. "They do ceremonies like this from time to time, so I've seen. No real fighting usually. "
He offers Kass a stick of meat that he grabbed from the inn they had stayed at the night before, the final portion of the food and lodging they had paid for, along with a posting he had torn off a wall asking for mercenaries. "Or related to this, which makes more sense considering the others here. We're not the strangest ones around for a change.."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As quickly as the tabaxi had appeared he was gone again. Dropping down into the crowd the quirky fellow cast his daily Mage Armor spell on himself and then set about using his nimble nature to slink about towards his target.
Stealth: 29
Suddenly the feline was behind the stranger in unique magical armor. Peering silently over her shoulder his eyes were wider than one might think even possible and his head vibrated slightly as he stared intently at the sparking screwdriver. Even once Kass had put the tool away the tabaxi was still fixated on the location where she had stowed the device. If or when Kass saw him his eyes would meet hers and then slowly look back to where the sparking wonder had once been.
The individual that Jasper had spoken to, confused by the immediate disappearance of the one who engaged them in conversation, turns instead to respond to Miesha. “That’s just the issue! We have no leader.”
Maggwyn slips up next to the individual talking to Miesha, silently and looks him directly in the eyes. “Then, as she asked, what do you need of us? Why are all these postings up looking for aid?”
The individual, a human, stammers briefly at Maggwyn’s intensity, but responds, “W-well the capital, Neldfield, informed us that we needed to determine a local leader. That was going to be the Lonsvells up in that keep, but we haven’t heard from them recently. Neldfield’s envoy will be here tomorrow and we need to have a leader by then or they’ll appoint one of their city folk. We need the Lonsvells back.”
There are various expressions of agreement and desperation from the crowd throughout the human’s summary.
Kass takes the meat stick and grunts before digging into it, which Aalsen has come to assume is Kass' way of saying "thank you." It takes her more than about half a minute to notice the Tabaxi stalking her, long after she puts away her tools. When she finally does notice Jasper, she jumps to her feet, meat stick still in her mouth, and drops back into a protective stance with her fists up. "Hallf! Furry freashure! Wuff iff yer furfuff im shocking ree? Feff urway!"
Crannoc stands bemused at the odd ritual taking place between the tabaxi and the hobgoblin eating the strange wood-meat hybrid talisman. The sycamore seedling flutters uncertainly around Crannoc's bark-brown hair. Was this a traditional greeting? Perhaps a territorial dispute. Surely not a mating ritual. And what was the significance of the pale elf having given the metal-clad hobgoblin the talisman to start with?
Truly, I have much to learn before I can find my path among the city-born... wait, the local man spoke of.. Neldfield's envoy appointing outside city-folk... as if they themselves are not city-folk? Is Neldfield a city, the 'capital', and this place, Aoswell not? Aoswell was surely a bigger city than Crannoc had ever seen, yet they seem to think of themselves as small.
He lopes, seedling trailing behind in a looping spiral, over to where the... tiefling (?) and the bronze warrior are conversing with the city-not-city man of Aoswell. He inclines his eyes and blinks respectfully, venturing a thought, attempting to sound confident but unsure if it will be welcome or understood.
"Leaders among us, beasts and plants both, do not just appear - they grow. When the pack leader passes back to the earth through age or blood or hunger, a new one rises - has been rising their whole lives in truth, to be ready in the moment of need. Or a new queen for the beehive. A new grandfather redwood with the old one fallen. Such is the hidden order amidst the milling chaos of Temuth. Leaders rise and Nature thrives. With the Lonsvells in hibernation, is one of you not up to the challenge to lead your pack? If not, then tell us what you can of the path - how we can rouse them from their... keep. To restore the natural balance you seek before these... other city-folk impose a leader not of your choosing."
When she finally does notice Jasper, she jumps to her feet, meat stick still in her mouth, and drops back into a protective stance with her fists up. "Hallf! Furry freashure! Wuff iff yer furfuff im shocking ree? Feff urway!"
The tabaxi just tilts his head awkwardly at Kass's food induced mumbles while sneaking another glance at where the screwdriver had been stowed. "OH! Yes, it is a fine hat, isn't it? Stitched it myself to match this brilliant cloak someone...'gave me'." Jasper sets to cloak to billowing once again.
With a quick glance back over the crowd in the town center Jasper straightens his posture a bit and puts his hands on his hips just above his sword hilt before getting down to business. He looks Kass up and down and says "one might surmise that you are indeed not from around here." With a grin he continues "and thus if you have answered the call of these forlorn people one could conclude that we will, if fact, be working together. In that case, consider your wondrous little toy, alluring as it may be, safe from my claws. You will find a no more loyal friend than Jasper once the task is set!"
Aalsan's attention meanwhile had been focused on the exchange between Kass and the tabaxi, a situation that was not all that uncommon. Not the tabaxi specifically, but greedy eyes and eager hands wanting for Kass' tools and her fancy metals. Most situations ended up with one walking away without an eye, hand, or life, he had come to observe.
What drew his attention even more though was the sword on the tabaxi's -- Jasper, he said -- hip. Its features marked it as elven design, though Aalsan admittedly did not know how common such items were. Most weapons he had come into contact with recently were sad, chipped swords of human forging or simple wooden clubs. Or in the case of Kass' items, strange metals that made noises and released bright lights that hurt.
"That.. is elven." He spoke up to Jasper, gesturing towards his sword. It was hard to discern whether it was a statement or a question, though the child like curiosity that echoed behind the words was clear. An odd reaction for someone of apparent elven lineage but then, it appeared he was also one traveling with a hobgoblin so likely not too surprising all things considered. "Answering the call, ah, yes. The posting."
Maggwyn watched as a crowd of newcomers start gathering around Jasper. Well, that’s nothing new, though I thought he asked me to join him here to help him with a situation, not make more friends. She gives an exasperated sigh.
The one with the seed circling their head starts going on about leaders growing thought their midst and nature thriving and Yada yada yada. Maggwyn rolls her eyes and asks the man of Aoswell, “The Lonsvells. Got it. When can we start?”
Miesha reaches out and grasps the persons shoulder. "Yes, we will go search for these Lonsvells and until we return know that YOU are the one in charge. You stepped up and gave us this mission, you spoke for the rest when they stood back and gawked... You are the leader until we return with the Lonsvells" Miesha says, giving the townie a nod of confidence and looking over to the Tiefling and giving a subtle shrug as if to say "Why not?"
"And if we cannot, you lead until you all decide on a new one together. Understood?" Miesha speaks with confidence and assurance, loud enough for the whole crowd to hear.
"Now, tell us what we need to know before we are off!" Miesha states, putting an arm around the newly appointed leader, nodding to the Tiefling and any of the other nearby oddities to join, and steps a few feet away from the local crowd. She pauses for just a moment to give a high pitched whistle and wave others to the location. "C'mon you motley mercs, form up!" she shouts to try to draw in any others who were here due to the posting...
The human puffs out his chest, immediately trying to appear the leader that he has been temporarily appointed to be. He looks about for a moment at the six outsiders, "You should start as promptly as possible, we need at least one Lonsvell back by tonight in order to get them ready for the envoy tomorrow. The Lonsvells were in their keep, the one on the hill, when we last heard from them a week ago. That's all we know."
Kass scowls after swallowing her food. "These are not toys, cat-man Jasper. They are tools. I ask you treat them with the respect they deserve," She growls, closing her pack. "Shava Aalsen, are we going to be joining this cat-man and helping these people? I am fine with that choice of path forward, so long as this one (she indicates Jasper) does not... what's the word... 'violin' with my tools."
"Everyone here who is joining in?" Miesha asks, giving a look over those assembled and the nearby crowd to scan for any stragglers. "We ready to go investigate?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
It is the morning of Arilyth 42nd, mid-spring. You six travelers have made your way into the small farming town of Aoswell. It is a sleepy, humbly constructed town, that is except for the lone keep in the area. You have heard word and seen postings pleading with mercenaries like yourselves for aid.
As you all wake up or arrive here you see a crowd forming. It is a few hours until noon when it seems that the entire town has gathered here in the center of the buildings, arguing loudly.
Jasper snaps his latest book shut and looks up from under the wide, flat brim of his hat. "Pssst. Maggwn, shall we? Our latest clients eagerly await our arrival!"
A thin tabaxi with light brown hair strides towards the town center. His long pointed ears have tufts of hair at the tip and fit well through holes in his perfectly tailored crimson hat. Smoothly leaping upon something such as stone wall, cart or up the side of a building a bit with his climbing skills Jasper aims to ensure his audience can see him. Taking a moment to instruct his cloak to billow in a showy manner reveals a long tail and a fine, long, thin elven sword at his hip.
"Greatings fine people of Aoswell! As you gather in anticipation of our arrival know that Jasper and his most adept companion are here to ascertain the fate of those in your keep! Now, now, I can't meet you all at once, but we can start with you..." Jasper sets his eyes on the most attractive humanoid he can find in the crowd.
Kass sighs as she takes a seat on a nearby low wall, her suit of magical armor clanking against the stone. The helmet unfolds and detracts and reveals a young hobgoblin woman with ruddy red skin and a long black undercut streaked with gray, her face locked in an annoyed-looking grimace. She digs around in her backpack and pulls out a sparking screwdriver, which she immediately uses to tighten something on her left hand's gauntlet. "Maabet, the servos are acting up again. Khaavolar! We're lucky, shava Aalsan, that this problem struck while we are not on the road," Kass curses, wincing as the tool sparks and pops as she works on her armor. She lets out a huff a few moments later, puts away the tool, then expands and contracts her fingers. "Skai, it is now fixed. What are these people gathered for? Do you know, Aalsan?"
The sound calls to him. As it always has.
The swift rushing of wind in the glen, the gentle patter of the forest brook on its bed of stones and moss, the trees creaking in their ever-moving stillness. Temuth's children. Whispering. Laughing. Sighing.
Screaming.
There had been screaming of late. Not always sound in the air. Crannoc Greenthorn senses it in the roots of his dryad grandmother's great heart tree and in the unease of the wandering wood elves. The... dissonance, something beyond what outsiders would simply call "Nature, red in tooth and claw." Not the natural order of things
War. And perhaps worse. Something is wrong.
And so Crannoc had ventured out from his beloved forest home. Spurred by the wounds he feels in the very skein of Nature itself. Searching for some cause outside the world he knows. Sent on behalf of all Temuth's creations. But not knowing exactly why or how or what. North the voices and sounds had urged him, from his forest home on the western Ropenhaven Slopes. To the human settlement of Aoswell, in Vexcall. Or North Vexcall? In truth, Crannoc does not remember. Or care much.
He strides with a confidence he does not fully feel, his own divine magic from his aasimar father singing in his veins in harmony with Nature's whispers. A sycamore seedling floating and dancing around him, drifting, turning, falling, yet somehow never reaching the ground. His brown eyes watchful as if both predator and prey at once. Reaching out with the ageless senses of the tall trees.
Crannoc senses the commotion in the... town... before he truly sees or hears it. Like a wolfpack without its leader, a beehive without its queen, a grove with its entwined roots withered, turning and pulsing in ungrounded confusion. The milling people. He recoils a little but forces him to continue into the town, sycamore seedling whirling up above his head in agitation.
He arrives just in time to see the... Tabaxi? Jumping to a raised area and addressing the crowd, flashing and showing as much like a bird with its plumage as a cat. Something about those in the keep. Perhaps this is a place to start. He notices the armored hobgoblin also watching as he is once she finishes working on the metal fit to her left hand. He stops and breathes the air gradually, attempting not to wrinkle his nose at the ubiquitous sweat and stench of so many humans together. The sycamore seedling settles into a slow, wide, circular path around him as Crannoc Greenthorn reaches out to Temuth and listens with his heart.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Miesha leans against the wall sipping her warm drink and watching the crowd. She's been here a couple days now, enough for the people to grow accustomed to her presence. She still got looks from people as they passed taking in her metallic bronze skin but the gasps and the crowding around had ended at least. She had been ready to investigate alone but the townsfolk had insisted she wait for others. "This is not a job for a lone warrior," they had insisted. "No matter how skilled." Miesha Breen had bristled but accepted this, after a bit. Numbers did matter...
Now, at last, she saw others arriving. And she thought she had made an odd appearance in this sleepy little town! The one calling themself Jasper seemed to have quite the flair for the dramatic. If he was as good with the sword as he was at drawing attention then he would definitely be useful. If not, sometime a distraction is all you need. And is that a Hobgoblin in that armor(?) atop that wall? An odd sight in odder armor...
And that one there? Well Miesha wasn't sure what to make of them, yet, but they definitely weren't locals. Same as a couple of others she spotted. Well and all, probably about time to try to kick this thing into motion then, she supposed. Taking up her weapons - Bow and quiver on her back, shield upon her arm and spear in her other, resting upon her shoulder, Miesha marches into the crowd, through it and to the front of it.
"Alrighty then!" She all but shouts in order to grab the masses attention. "Who is in charge here? And how's about you tell us what you need from us?"
Maggwyn stands in the shadows near Jasper and as he starts his typical flourished greeting, she shakes her head and tries to steer clear. She doesn’t need everyone to know that cat is her friend. She smirks to herself, damn thing knows how to live though. Oh goodness, he’s even got the cloak flowing, he’s pulling out all the stops for this one, she thinks and holds her forehead in her hand and sighs.
The tiefling then looks out to the gathering of supposed heros that are coming to the call for help at Aoswell. She’s a tall creature with long white/gray wavy hair down her back, with rare dual horns on each side of her head. She leans on the well worn staff of her glaive that is adorned with a couple feathers and rings. The staff itself appears black with some engravings that match the leather armor she wears. There is a slight shine off of the gauntlets she wears that contrast with the muting of the leather.
As the bronze colored one steps forth and commands for the one in charge, Maggwyn crosses her arms and leans back, waiting to see what happens next.
"Maybe it is an execution?" Aalsan replied in his usual curious tone, as if he were talking about some kind of festival about to happen, in regards to the gathering crowds. The voice belonged to a fair skinned, blue eyed, dark haired elf -- seemingly a common moon elf if one were versed with such particulars -- dressed in generic traveler's clothes. It, of course, was not the true form of Aalsan Inaleth that Kass knew but rather Aalsan's 'stranger danger' version. Or the guise he put whenever they ventured into new villages or places. It drew less attention, or more specifically, less attention to him while the remainder went to Kass. It was an arrangement that worked for them both and made for convenient travel companions. "They do ceremonies like this from time to time, so I've seen. No real fighting usually. "
He offers Kass a stick of meat that he grabbed from the inn they had stayed at the night before, the final portion of the food and lodging they had paid for, along with a posting he had torn off a wall asking for mercenaries. "Or related to this, which makes more sense considering the others here. We're not the strangest ones around for a change.."
As quickly as the tabaxi had appeared he was gone again. Dropping down into the crowd the quirky fellow cast his daily Mage Armor spell on himself and then set about using his nimble nature to slink about towards his target.
Stealth: 29
Suddenly the feline was behind the stranger in unique magical armor. Peering silently over her shoulder his eyes were wider than one might think even possible and his head vibrated slightly as he stared intently at the sparking screwdriver. Even once Kass had put the tool away the tabaxi was still fixated on the location where she had stowed the device. If or when Kass saw him his eyes would meet hers and then slowly look back to where the sparking wonder had once been.
The individual that Jasper had spoken to, confused by the immediate disappearance of the one who engaged them in conversation, turns instead to respond to Miesha. “That’s just the issue! We have no leader.”
Maggwyn slips up next to the individual talking to Miesha, silently and looks him directly in the eyes. “Then, as she asked, what do you need of us? Why are all these postings up looking for aid?”
The individual, a human, stammers briefly at Maggwyn’s intensity, but responds, “W-well the capital, Neldfield, informed us that we needed to determine a local leader. That was going to be the Lonsvells up in that keep, but we haven’t heard from them recently. Neldfield’s envoy will be here tomorrow and we need to have a leader by then or they’ll appoint one of their city folk. We need the Lonsvells back.”
There are various expressions of agreement and desperation from the crowd throughout the human’s summary.
Kass takes the meat stick and grunts before digging into it, which Aalsen has come to assume is Kass' way of saying "thank you." It takes her more than about half a minute to notice the Tabaxi stalking her, long after she puts away her tools. When she finally does notice Jasper, she jumps to her feet, meat stick still in her mouth, and drops back into a protective stance with her fists up. "Hallf! Furry freashure! Wuff iff yer furfuff im shocking ree? Feff urway!"
Crannoc stands bemused at the odd ritual taking place between the tabaxi and the hobgoblin eating the strange wood-meat hybrid talisman. The sycamore seedling flutters uncertainly around Crannoc's bark-brown hair. Was this a traditional greeting? Perhaps a territorial dispute. Surely not a mating ritual. And what was the significance of the pale elf having given the metal-clad hobgoblin the talisman to start with?
Truly, I have much to learn before I can find my path among the city-born... wait, the local man spoke of.. Neldfield's envoy appointing outside city-folk... as if they themselves are not city-folk? Is Neldfield a city, the 'capital', and this place, Aoswell not? Aoswell was surely a bigger city than Crannoc had ever seen, yet they seem to think of themselves as small.
He lopes, seedling trailing behind in a looping spiral, over to where the... tiefling (?) and the bronze warrior are conversing with the city-not-city man of Aoswell. He inclines his eyes and blinks respectfully, venturing a thought, attempting to sound confident but unsure if it will be welcome or understood.
"Leaders among us, beasts and plants both, do not just appear - they grow. When the pack leader passes back to the earth through age or blood or hunger, a new one rises - has been rising their whole lives in truth, to be ready in the moment of need. Or a new queen for the beehive. A new grandfather redwood with the old one fallen. Such is the hidden order amidst the milling chaos of Temuth. Leaders rise and Nature thrives. With the Lonsvells in hibernation, is one of you not up to the challenge to lead your pack? If not, then tell us what you can of the path - how we can rouse them from their... keep. To restore the natural balance you seek before these... other city-folk impose a leader not of your choosing."
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
The tabaxi just tilts his head awkwardly at Kass's food induced mumbles while sneaking another glance at where the screwdriver had been stowed. "OH! Yes, it is a fine hat, isn't it? Stitched it myself to match this brilliant cloak someone...'gave me'." Jasper sets to cloak to billowing once again.
With a quick glance back over the crowd in the town center Jasper straightens his posture a bit and puts his hands on his hips just above his sword hilt before getting down to business. He looks Kass up and down and says "one might surmise that you are indeed not from around here." With a grin he continues "and thus if you have answered the call of these forlorn people one could conclude that we will, if fact, be working together. In that case, consider your wondrous little toy, alluring as it may be, safe from my claws. You will find a no more loyal friend than Jasper once the task is set!"
Aalsan's attention meanwhile had been focused on the exchange between Kass and the tabaxi, a situation that was not all that uncommon. Not the tabaxi specifically, but greedy eyes and eager hands wanting for Kass' tools and her fancy metals. Most situations ended up with one walking away without an eye, hand, or life, he had come to observe.
What drew his attention even more though was the sword on the tabaxi's -- Jasper, he said -- hip. Its features marked it as elven design, though Aalsan admittedly did not know how common such items were. Most weapons he had come into contact with recently were sad, chipped swords of human forging or simple wooden clubs. Or in the case of Kass' items, strange metals that made noises and released bright lights that hurt.
"That.. is elven." He spoke up to Jasper, gesturing towards his sword. It was hard to discern whether it was a statement or a question, though the child like curiosity that echoed behind the words was clear. An odd reaction for someone of apparent elven lineage but then, it appeared he was also one traveling with a hobgoblin so likely not too surprising all things considered. "Answering the call, ah, yes. The posting."
Maggwyn watched as a crowd of newcomers start gathering around Jasper. Well, that’s nothing new, though I thought he asked me to join him here to help him with a situation, not make more friends. She gives an exasperated sigh.
The one with the seed circling their head starts going on about leaders growing thought their midst and nature thriving and Yada yada yada. Maggwyn rolls her eyes and asks the man of Aoswell, “The Lonsvells. Got it. When can we start?”
Miesha reaches out and grasps the persons shoulder. "Yes, we will go search for these Lonsvells and until we return know that YOU are the one in charge. You stepped up and gave us this mission, you spoke for the rest when they stood back and gawked... You are the leader until we return with the Lonsvells" Miesha says, giving the townie a nod of confidence and looking over to the Tiefling and giving a subtle shrug as if to say "Why not?"
"And if we cannot, you lead until you all decide on a new one together. Understood?" Miesha speaks with confidence and assurance, loud enough for the whole crowd to hear.
"Now, tell us what we need to know before we are off!" Miesha states, putting an arm around the newly appointed leader, nodding to the Tiefling and any of the other nearby oddities to join, and steps a few feet away from the local crowd. She pauses for just a moment to give a high pitched whistle and wave others to the location. "C'mon you motley mercs, form up!" she shouts to try to draw in any others who were here due to the posting...
The human puffs out his chest, immediately trying to appear the leader that he has been temporarily appointed to be. He looks about for a moment at the six outsiders, "You should start as promptly as possible, we need at least one Lonsvell back by tonight in order to get them ready for the envoy tomorrow. The Lonsvells were in their keep, the one on the hill, when we last heard from them a week ago. That's all we know."
Kass scowls after swallowing her food. "These are not toys, cat-man Jasper. They are tools. I ask you treat them with the respect they deserve," She growls, closing her pack. "Shava Aalsen, are we going to be joining this cat-man and helping these people? I am fine with that choice of path forward, so long as this one (she indicates Jasper) does not... what's the word... 'violin' with my tools."
"Everyone here who is joining in?" Miesha asks, giving a look over those assembled and the nearby crowd to scan for any stragglers. "We ready to go investigate?"