when kiselina is done thinking vidruth will continue their conversation. "for us" he explains "we dont ask him for help, we show him our deeds and hope to impress him. those who draw his attention can gain a boon, anything from a bit of speed to the ferocity to cut a path through your foes leaving nothing but despair behind for all, invaders and kin alike" he sounds as if he speaks from experience "but the greater the gift, the greater the cost"
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This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
After finishing her conversation with Elsa, Daphyra returns to the table, walking as if asleep. She holds the note out in front of her and lays it down on the table for the others to see.
"Uhh, about Gundren..." she says, and points to the letter.
She places her empty tankard on the table with a decisive thump. "Yes, I will assist. As soon as I have spoken with the Sister at the shrine tomorrow."
Marten had hoped that Daphyra would join them, but of the whole group, she was the one whose answer Marten had been the least sure of. Daphyra had already demonstrated how useful it was to have a cleric in the group: they wouldn't have made it to Phandalin if she hadn't saved the oxen.
"Bah, of course I'm in, we all should be in. I don't know everything about all of ya, and I'm no man of high repute, but I think it's simply the right thing to do. Someone is in trouble. I can't not help, not again. I warn all of ya, it's a bad road to go; eats at your mind always." He briefly pauses long enough to finish swallowing his food finally and slams back the first half of the mug. "Any contrary opinions in my mind are hogwash."
Marten is glad to hear that Nosam is "in," but he silently wonders at the dwarf's response and the hint of dark deeds (or perhaps selfish inaction) in his past.
With that, Kiselina offers up a toast, “To Bahamut, may they use us to restore Justice to a world in need!”
Marten joins in the toast. In his experience, the gods mostly don’t trouble themselves with the day-to-day business of mortals, but his policy is to pay due respect to the gods of the place you’re in or people you’re with.
Marten was raised with scant and inconsistent religious instruction. The farmers of his home town mostly made offerings to Chauntea. And Lathander, of course. Later, when Marten started spending more time in the wilderness, he eventually encountered worshippers of Mielikki and of Silvanus.
Unable to sit still any longer, he takes out his flute and plays his repertoire of songs appropriate for the flow of ale.
Marten taps or stomps along with the music. He wouldn't think of singing along himself, but the fairy seems enthusiastic and not at all shy about performing in front of others. Marten always enjoys a good song, and he has found that people have less need of conversation when they're listening to music.
Once supper is done and the ale is finished, Marten settles by the fire with some of Kiselina's wine. He ponders the letter from Barthen and the road ahead of them tomorrow.
Marten says, "It took us a few hours to get here, but we were trying not to press the poor oxen too hard. If we're up afore sun-up, we can break fast here and then resupply at Barthen's on our way out of Phandalin. That should put us at the goblins' hideout around mid-day. But should we send word to Gundren's brothers before we leave?"
"And speakin' o' Barthen. This letter of his, it said...how did he put it?...'what with our own troubles.' What did he mean? Something to do with the 'Redbrands' that Mr. Stonehill mentioned?"
(OOC: it's unclear to me whether Kiselina has already shared the history about Phandelver with the group.)
Berry's tune shifts towards a more relaxing, calming melody as the evening progresses into the night proper and the group sits comfortably in the common room at the fire. He finds that he's more comfortable speaking through his flute than adding to a conversation about gods that he knows next to nothing about. Better not to say anything than something wrong when it concerns the gods. Though, he does answer the toast to Bahamut, because it is what you do. You pay your tribute.
The sight of the letter is a cause for a break in his music. "Good plan," Berry agrees with Marten. "We can ask Barthen what he meant by those words when we pick up supplies. Perhaps, Barthen, or one of his apprentices, also can let Gundren's brothers know that we look into it, so that we don't lose more time than necessary."
As much as Nosam would like to stick around and mingle he doesn't want to show any more weakness and vulnerability to the group, there's been enough of those slips already. Plus, he's stuffed and feels a bit too carefree from the booze. Nosam decides it best that he head back to his room and get whatever rest he can. He knows tomorrow will bring much excitement... and likely danger.
Daphyra takes her tankard of cider to the fireside to continue the conversation. When Marten suggests getting started before daybreak, she shakes her head. "I do intend to join you in the search for Gundren, but I must speak with the sister at the shrine before we leave, and I do not know if the good sister is an early riser." She shrugs. "It is my duty. Maybe I can borrow a mount to catch up with you on the road."
The sight of the letter is a cause for a break in his music. "Good plan," Berry agrees with Marten. "We can ask Barthen what he meant by those words when we pick up supplies. Perhaps, Barthen, or one of his apprentices, also can let Gundren's brothers know that we look into it, so that we don't lose more time than necessary."
Daphyra takes her tankard of cider to the fireside to continue the conversation. When Marten suggests getting started before daybreak, she shakes her head. "I do intend to join you in the search for Gundren, but I must speak with the sister at the shrine before we leave, and I do not know if the good sister is an early riser." She shrugs. "It is my duty. Maybe I can borrow a mount to catch up with you on the road."
Marten thinks for a moment and says, "Well, now. We'll just see when the shrine's keeper wakes up in the morning." You think that you detect an odd smile when Marten says that, but it's difficult to tell under the beard.
He hadn’t been able to place the name before, not a great mind for linguistics, but he knew the name was familiar. He’d never been to Phandalin before, never been much further that just outside Neverwinter. That was why he always wanted to call the town something longer, closer to the Draconic Fandelvir. It had to do with the Phandelver Pact. “Where did I first see mention of that?” And “What was that again?” He strains to recall what he knew.
Marten perks up when Kiselina mentions Gundren's words. "Yessir. 'Something big.' That's how he said it. I reck'n that the missing map has something to do with it, too." He indicates the pick hanging on the wall. "It's a mining town, yeah? Maybe the Rockseekers struck it rich, and Gundren was just trying to keep it quiet until they could secure their claim."
"asking barten about it might not get us an answer, but its always best to try the obvious solution, otherwise you look right daft when it could have worked" he offers. "and dont worry daphyra, as long as it doesnt take too long we can wake, though have you considered waking her up. a mans life is at risk and that is probably more important than a good nights sleep" he adds, not unkindly
vidruth nods at martens idea "seems reasonable, we should hush up about it though" he checks to see if elisa was listening "he might not want it widespread, a good guess though, and one that brings us hope for his survival"
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This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
“Gundren mentioned something about the Rocksetter brothers finding ‘something big’.” He ponders out loud among any other conversation being had.>>
"It's a mining town, yeah? Maybe the Rockseekers struck it rich, and Gundren was just trying to keep it quiet until they could secure their claim."
“Yes, yes! NO!”
Kiselina looks flustered as he tries to organize his thoughts in a coherent order for easier exchange. “I thought that exactly at first three days ago when I heard him say it. ‘Must have been a good vein to tap. Work for plenty of hands for a long time.’ However, I remembered something I learned when I was studying at the temple.”
Kiselina will lower his voice. He will relay the information previously posted (post 180) to any who remained in the common room.
His recollection follows a disjuncture of thoughts. “It must have been a Draconic text of lore that I came across in the library. It must have been a translation from some earlier text, dwarven probably. The Dragonborn were brought here during the spellplague, and that was around a hundred years ago. But the reference to Fandelvir Pak (Draconic translation of Phandelver Pack) was around 500 years ago.”
He pauses to ensure comprehension before finishing, “What if the ‘something big’ is Wave Echo Cave!”
Daphyra prickles slightly at Vidruth's suggestion. "I did consider going to talk to her now, but decided that it is a conversation best had after a night's sleep. After being missing for three days, I doubt an extra hour matters to Gundren or Sildar too much, unless you are suggesting we head straight back out now. I will catch up to the group if necessary."
--
Daphyra half-listens with glazed, tired eyes to Kiselina's discussion, not reacting at all to the mention of Wave Echo Cave.
Tired and not entirely sober, Berry only gets half of Kiselina’s discourse, but to his defense landmarks susceptible to the flow of magic aren’t as rare in the details, his home plane. He does, though, catch the last bit. “Wave Echo Cave? But we’re at least a day away from the sea, aren’t we?” He asks insecure before a thought occurs to him. “And if the goblins are interested in that, they surely wouldn’t have stumbled upon such information by chance.”
Back in his room Nosam preps his belongings for a quick departure if needed. He reconsiders his decision, wondering if he should have remained and socialized, but ultimately climbs in bed. He replays some of the conversations in his mind as if counting sheep, Gundren, Phandelver, the drinks, the oxen, his father, the goblins, his new companions, disappointment; he drifts to sleep fairly quickly.
"I hadent heard of this wave echo cave before. do you know anything else about it?" vidruth asks, looking kinda sheepish at the bit about orcs. he is tired but still sober and keeping himself sharp, he never drinks before a fight. "ah, sorry daphyra i didnt mean that. i meant we could maybe wake her up in the morning if we really need to"
once the conversation is wrapped up fully he will say goodnight to everyone and head off to bed
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
"I hadent heard of this wave echo cave before. do you know anything else about it?" vidruth asks, looking kinda sheepish at the bit about orcs.
“I think I’ve said all I can recall. It probably is just all lore anyways. Most likely not related to Gundren’s finding at all. What are the chances, that after more than 500 years, a dwarf merchant hires six random souls, makes a map that gets lost, and those six just so happen to use it to discover a cavern where ancient magics can be wrought to make artifacts of incredible power. I mean, (here he finishes his drink) it’d be the stuff of fairytales…wouldn’t it?”
He looks to Marten and Vidruth who seem the most interested. But can’t help thinking of the honor to be gained by such a quest. “Anyways, first things first. A stop at the shrine for the Mistress, a stop at Barthen’s for supplies, then discover what happened to the dwarf merchant. The hour draws late.”
To Vidruth he adds as he departs for his room, “We shall have to discuss how your god and mine share some similar traits in the future, shan’t we?”
He pauses to ensure comprehension before finishing, “What if the ‘something big’ is Wave Echo Cave!”
Marten listens with growing wonder to the story about Phandelver Pact and the Wave Echo Cave. Conscious of Vidruth's warning, he glances around the room to ensure that no one outside their party is nearby.
To Kiselina's last question, he just nods and says quietly, "Well, now. Yes. Yes, could be." Then he subsides into thoughtful silence. Magic. Wizards. Forge of Spells. What did he get himself into? Three days ago, he was just glad to have a job that paid well from a reliable employer. This afternoon, he was resolved to finish the job and then rescue Gundren from some bandits. Now, it seemed like he had stumbled into something much bigger.
Marten looks into his empty mug. He didn't know whether it was Kiselina's revelations, the long day and after effects of the fight with the goblins, or the ale and wine, but his brain felt like it was moving slowly. Something someone had said. What was it?
He asks insecure before a thought occurs to him. “And if the goblins are interested in that, they surely wouldn’t have stumbled upon such information by chance.”
Marten remembers now. He glances up at Berry, but then looks back into his empty mug, saying, "Yes. I'm with Berry. Vidruth, you asked whether something seemed...unusual...meanin', about them goblins at the ambush. Now I reckon you were right. If Gundren is connected to this Cave in Kiselina's story....well, m'ybe the ambush weren't just a random raid. It's feelin' like something...I dunno....bigger? P'rhaps those goblins were lookin' for Gundren's map and set a trap for Gundren himself. And for goblins to be so organized...well, now...that's not common, is it? Not on their own..." Marten subsides into thoughtful silence for a moment.
Was this what one of them "adventures" felt like? How did the heroes in the old stories end up on a quest? He enjoyed the old stories, when he had a chance to hear them, but he always figured that the great heroes were different from regular folk. But maybe not. Perhaps they just sorta fell over backwards into their adventures, too. And then some bard came along later and put pretty words over everything, hidin' all the "regular" details to make a pretty story.
Suddenly, Marten sets his empty mug down briskly and stands. He says, "But none o' that changes our plan, does it? We'll jus' hav'ta see what we see when we find the goblins' hideout. We still need to find Gundren. And we start early t'morrow."
Marten says his good nights and goes up to his room. Worn out by the day and the conversation---so much conversation!---he falls asleep quickly even though he cannot feel the night breeze or hear the sounds of the forest and field. As soon as he wakes up in the morning, he gathers his gear and takes everything downstairs and outside into the early morning light to recheck his gear and get ready for the day.
(OOC: I assume that 1 gp covers his stay at the inn: room (5 sp) + gallon of ale (2 sp) + stew + breakfast.)
“Early tomorrow… right,” Berry realizes after Marten’s speech how tired he had become. As the group breaks up and everyone appears to head to their rooms, Berry does the same. Suddenly alone and in discomforting silence he feels as if something strangles him. Perhaps the small confines of the room? Gasping for air he hurries to open the window and welcomes a breeze of fresh air and not entirely unfamiliar nightly sounds.Then, he lets himself fall on the bed only to get up again immediately, looking intrigued at the bed. Unsure how he should lay in it, he decides that the large boards on the wall and opposite side must be so that one doesn’t inadvertently roll off the bed and therefore are the sides of the extremely wide bed that he was given. Without losing another thought over it, he snores into the night.
When woken up, he prepares his pack and pouches and leaves it ready for a fast departure. Then, he storms downstairs to the breakfast.
(OOC: @Ben: (OOC: I assume that 1 gp covers his stay at the inn: room (5 sp) + gallon of ale (2 sp) + stew + breakfast.)
Yes, that covers it, except breakfast won't be offered before you want to go. Relatedly, you would only have needed to consume 1/2 day's ration on the 3rd day of your journey.)
The party is up at dawn, even before which, through the quartered sashes of your gabled bedroom windows, you see lamp and torchlight from lone windows and barn doors in the near distance, where farmers are already up milking their cows and managing chores. These are long days on farms, reaping in harvests, readying to travel to Triboar or even to Neverwinter to make whatever profit can be had.
As you look around you, the first thing you notice is the presence of the mountains to the south and hills to the east, with the aptly-named Icespire Peak jutting its craggy tip high between two hilltops among the nearer eastern hills, like the eye of a great bear peeking into a beehive for honey. It is over this tableaux that the sun itself peers through swirling cumulus clouds, lording over Icespire Peak and throwing bright glints off its chilly apex.
Many, if not most, of the townspeople are up and active, holding shawls over their heads as they check their backyard henhouse for eggs, or in a short line at the well, or trudging to their day’s work, nodding heads in curt but not unfriendly greetings to one another and you when you leave the Stonehill Inn.
A lantern is on inside Barthen’s Provisions up the street, and you can see motion within it from here. Barthen, readying himself for a day’s work. His eye seems to float down toward you more than once, although that could be your imagination, it would be difficult to see that much detail through the clouded glass windows for certain.
Across the rutted main road from the Stonehill Inn, you see a woman enter the shrine’s arched doorway, facing away from you. Her garment is a length of fabric wrapped around herself many times, its end draped over her shoulder and one arm – a brick red sari, edged with thin golden borders which shine like lighting in the morning sun’s rays. You recognize the emblem of Tymora, goddess of good luck, on a tall, tasseled cap she wears as she bows her head in silent prayer.
Daphyra is one of the last to leave the taproom -- she seems to find it hard to summon the energy to go to bed, and sits staring into the fire. Once the proprietors start to pack up however, she pulls herself up and heads to her room. She completes her usual prayers to the goddess before she finally makes her way to bed.
--
Daphyra wakes, stretches and looks out the window, feeling her natural optimism return with the morning light. She regrets her prickliness the previous day and puts it down to exhaustion.
She sees the sister enter the shrine and decides to head over before the others.
Daphyra walks slowly into the shrine, not wanting to startle the other woman. At an opportune moment in her prayer, she clears her throat to attract attention.
"Good morning, gentle Sister. My name is Daphyra, Daphyra Fuffle. I have been sent here from the Temple of Bastet in Neverwinter to join your ranks, for a year to begin with. My superiors felt that my skills could be useful here, and I could learn from those at the temple here. Am I correct in understanding that you are the sole divine representative in this town? There is no full temple in the district?"
Nosam awakes rejuvenated; the cold water washing over his face and the coffee he's dreaming about has him chomping at the bit to get the day started. The situation is still dire, but approaching it with a rested mind and body is better than the alternative. As he gathers the last of his things and tidies up the room, he wonders to himself how the others are doing. Did they behave like responsible folk and get some rest or did they make poor choices? The like that would make twenty-five year old Nosam proud and most respectable folk repulsed.
As Nosam arrives downstairs he looks around for the others, he notices Lady Elsa. "Good mornin' Lady Elsa, why don't you look lovely today. Could I trouble you for some coffee, preferably in the largest receptacle you can find back there?" He tries his hand at flattery with his big smile and engaging eye contact, hoping to gather her opinion of the bunch or determine if she knows more about the dealings between Barthen and Gundren. He does not want to reveal any actual plans or details to her just yet, trusting others is not his forte. Lady Elsa's drinks and hospitality may be favorable, but her motives may not be. "Have you happened to see any of the motley bunch I have been trouncing around with; did they happen to already head over to Barthen for the day's marching orders? Don't want to miss out on the booty!"
when kiselina is done thinking vidruth will continue their conversation. "for us" he explains "we dont ask him for help, we show him our deeds and hope to impress him. those who draw his attention can gain a boon, anything from a bit of speed to the ferocity to cut a path through your foes leaving nothing but despair behind for all, invaders and kin alike" he sounds as if he speaks from experience "but the greater the gift, the greater the cost"
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
After finishing her conversation with Elsa, Daphyra returns to the table, walking as if asleep. She holds the note out in front of her and lays it down on the table for the others to see.
"Uhh, about Gundren..." she says, and points to the letter.
(sorry, short post today!)
Past characters:
Cariadne - Forest of Celador
Daphyra Fuffletail - The City of Cats
DM - Geek Legends - Wild beyond the Witchlight
Leela Steadystone - Adventures in the Sands
Mirri Goldenhorn - Journeys through the Radiant Citadel
Lola Smythe-Whyte - Larkin Expedition
Daphyra - Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver
Vanja - Binder's Hold and the Problem with the Mine
Marten had hoped that Daphyra would join them, but of the whole group, she was the one whose answer Marten had been the least sure of. Daphyra had already demonstrated how useful it was to have a cleric in the group: they wouldn't have made it to Phandalin if she hadn't saved the oxen.
Marten is glad to hear that Nosam is "in," but he silently wonders at the dwarf's response and the hint of dark deeds (or perhaps selfish inaction) in his past.
Marten joins in the toast. In his experience, the gods mostly don’t trouble themselves with the day-to-day business of mortals, but his policy is to pay due respect to the gods of the place you’re in or people you’re with.
Marten was raised with scant and inconsistent religious instruction. The farmers of his home town mostly made offerings to Chauntea. And Lathander, of course. Later, when Marten started spending more time in the wilderness, he eventually encountered worshippers of Mielikki and of Silvanus.
Marten taps or stomps along with the music. He wouldn't think of singing along himself, but the fairy seems enthusiastic and not at all shy about performing in front of others. Marten always enjoys a good song, and he has found that people have less need of conversation when they're listening to music.
Once supper is done and the ale is finished, Marten settles by the fire with some of Kiselina's wine. He ponders the letter from Barthen and the road ahead of them tomorrow.
Marten says, "It took us a few hours to get here, but we were trying not to press the poor oxen too hard. If we're up afore sun-up, we can break fast here and then resupply at Barthen's on our way out of Phandalin. That should put us at the goblins' hideout around mid-day. But should we send word to Gundren's brothers before we leave?"
"And speakin' o' Barthen. This letter of his, it said...how did he put it?...'what with our own troubles.' What did he mean? Something to do with the 'Redbrands' that Mr. Stonehill mentioned?"
(OOC: it's unclear to me whether Kiselina has already shared the history about Phandelver with the group.)
Berry's tune shifts towards a more relaxing, calming melody as the evening progresses into the night proper and the group sits comfortably in the common room at the fire. He finds that he's more comfortable speaking through his flute than adding to a conversation about gods that he knows next to nothing about. Better not to say anything than something wrong when it concerns the gods. Though, he does answer the toast to Bahamut, because it is what you do. You pay your tribute.
The sight of the letter is a cause for a break in his music. "Good plan," Berry agrees with Marten. "We can ask Barthen what he meant by those words when we pick up supplies. Perhaps, Barthen, or one of his apprentices, also can let Gundren's brothers know that we look into it, so that we don't lose more time than necessary."
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
As much as Nosam would like to stick around and mingle he doesn't want to show any more weakness and vulnerability to the group, there's been enough of those slips already. Plus, he's stuffed and feels a bit too carefree from the booze. Nosam decides it best that he head back to his room and get whatever rest he can. He knows tomorrow will bring much excitement... and likely danger.
Daphyra takes her tankard of cider to the fireside to continue the conversation. When Marten suggests getting started before daybreak, she shakes her head. "I do intend to join you in the search for Gundren, but I must speak with the sister at the shrine before we leave, and I do not know if the good sister is an early riser." She shrugs. "It is my duty. Maybe I can borrow a mount to catch up with you on the road."
Past characters:
Cariadne - Forest of Celador
Daphyra Fuffletail - The City of Cats
DM - Geek Legends - Wild beyond the Witchlight
Leela Steadystone - Adventures in the Sands
Mirri Goldenhorn - Journeys through the Radiant Citadel
Lola Smythe-Whyte - Larkin Expedition
Daphyra - Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver
Vanja - Binder's Hold and the Problem with the Mine
Marten nods, "Good idea, Berry."
Marten thinks for a moment and says, "Well, now. We'll just see when the shrine's keeper wakes up in the morning." You think that you detect an odd smile when Marten says that, but it's difficult to tell under the beard.
Marten perks up when Kiselina mentions Gundren's words. "Yessir. 'Something big.' That's how he said it. I reck'n that the missing map has something to do with it, too." He indicates the pick hanging on the wall. "It's a mining town, yeah? Maybe the Rockseekers struck it rich, and Gundren was just trying to keep it quiet until they could secure their claim."
"asking barten about it might not get us an answer, but its always best to try the obvious solution, otherwise you look right daft when it could have worked" he offers. "and dont worry daphyra, as long as it doesnt take too long we can wake, though have you considered waking her up. a mans life is at risk and that is probably more important than a good nights sleep" he adds, not unkindly
vidruth nods at martens idea "seems reasonable, we should hush up about it though" he checks to see if elisa was listening "he might not want it widespread, a good guess though, and one that brings us hope for his survival"
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
“Yes, yes! NO!”
Kiselina looks flustered as he tries to organize his thoughts in a coherent order for easier exchange.
“I thought that exactly at first three days ago when I heard him say it. ‘Must have been a good vein to tap. Work for plenty of hands for a long time.’ However, I remembered something I learned when I was studying at the temple.”
Kiselina will lower his voice. He will relay the information previously posted (post 180) to any who remained in the common room.
His recollection follows a disjuncture of thoughts. “It must have been a Draconic text of lore that I came across in the library. It must have been a translation from some earlier text, dwarven probably. The Dragonborn were brought here during the spellplague, and that was around a hundred years ago. But the reference to Fandelvir Pak (Draconic translation of Phandelver Pack) was around 500 years ago.”
He pauses to ensure comprehension before finishing, “What if the ‘something big’ is Wave Echo Cave!”
Daphyra prickles slightly at Vidruth's suggestion. "I did consider going to talk to her now, but decided that it is a conversation best had after a night's sleep. After being missing for three days, I doubt an extra hour matters to Gundren or Sildar too much, unless you are suggesting we head straight back out now. I will catch up to the group if necessary."
--
Daphyra half-listens with glazed, tired eyes to Kiselina's discussion, not reacting at all to the mention of Wave Echo Cave.
Past characters:
Cariadne - Forest of Celador
Daphyra Fuffletail - The City of Cats
DM - Geek Legends - Wild beyond the Witchlight
Leela Steadystone - Adventures in the Sands
Mirri Goldenhorn - Journeys through the Radiant Citadel
Lola Smythe-Whyte - Larkin Expedition
Daphyra - Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver
Vanja - Binder's Hold and the Problem with the Mine
Tired and not entirely sober, Berry only gets half of Kiselina’s discourse, but to his defense landmarks susceptible to the flow of magic aren’t as rare in the details, his home plane. He does, though, catch the last bit. “Wave Echo Cave? But we’re at least a day away from the sea, aren’t we?” He asks insecure before a thought occurs to him. “And if the goblins are interested in that, they surely wouldn’t have stumbled upon such information by chance.”
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Back in his room Nosam preps his belongings for a quick departure if needed. He reconsiders his decision, wondering if he should have remained and socialized, but ultimately climbs in bed. He replays some of the conversations in his mind as if counting sheep, Gundren, Phandelver, the drinks, the oxen, his father, the goblins, his new companions, disappointment; he drifts to sleep fairly quickly.
"I hadent heard of this wave echo cave before. do you know anything else about it?" vidruth asks, looking kinda sheepish at the bit about orcs. he is tired but still sober and keeping himself sharp, he never drinks before a fight. "ah, sorry daphyra i didnt mean that. i meant we could maybe wake her up in the morning if we really need to"
once the conversation is wrapped up fully he will say goodnight to everyone and head off to bed
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
“I think I’ve said all I can recall. It probably is just all lore anyways. Most likely not related to Gundren’s finding at all. What are the chances, that after more than 500 years, a dwarf merchant hires six random souls, makes a map that gets lost, and those six just so happen to use it to discover a cavern where ancient magics can be wrought to make artifacts of incredible power. I mean, (here he finishes his drink) it’d be the stuff of fairytales…wouldn’t it?”
He looks to Marten and Vidruth who seem the most interested. But can’t help thinking of the honor to be gained by such a quest.
“Anyways, first things first. A stop at the shrine for the Mistress, a stop at Barthen’s for supplies, then discover what happened to the dwarf merchant. The hour draws late.”
To Vidruth he adds as he departs for his room, “We shall have to discuss how your god and mine share some similar traits in the future, shan’t we?”
Marten listens with growing wonder to the story about Phandelver Pact and the Wave Echo Cave. Conscious of Vidruth's warning, he glances around the room to ensure that no one outside their party is nearby.
To Kiselina's last question, he just nods and says quietly, "Well, now. Yes. Yes, could be." Then he subsides into thoughtful silence. Magic. Wizards. Forge of Spells. What did he get himself into? Three days ago, he was just glad to have a job that paid well from a reliable employer. This afternoon, he was resolved to finish the job and then rescue Gundren from some bandits. Now, it seemed like he had stumbled into something much bigger.
Marten looks into his empty mug. He didn't know whether it was Kiselina's revelations, the long day and after effects of the fight with the goblins, or the ale and wine, but his brain felt like it was moving slowly. Something someone had said. What was it?
Marten remembers now. He glances up at Berry, but then looks back into his empty mug, saying, "Yes. I'm with Berry. Vidruth, you asked whether something seemed...unusual...meanin', about them goblins at the ambush. Now I reckon you were right. If Gundren is connected to this Cave in Kiselina's story....well, m'ybe the ambush weren't just a random raid. It's feelin' like something...I dunno....bigger? P'rhaps those goblins were lookin' for Gundren's map and set a trap for Gundren himself. And for goblins to be so organized...well, now...that's not common, is it? Not on their own..." Marten subsides into thoughtful silence for a moment.
Was this what one of them "adventures" felt like? How did the heroes in the old stories end up on a quest? He enjoyed the old stories, when he had a chance to hear them, but he always figured that the great heroes were different from regular folk. But maybe not. Perhaps they just sorta fell over backwards into their adventures, too. And then some bard came along later and put pretty words over everything, hidin' all the "regular" details to make a pretty story.
Suddenly, Marten sets his empty mug down briskly and stands. He says, "But none o' that changes our plan, does it? We'll jus' hav'ta see what we see when we find the goblins' hideout. We still need to find Gundren. And we start early t'morrow."
Marten says his good nights and goes up to his room. Worn out by the day and the conversation---so much conversation!---he falls asleep quickly even though he cannot feel the night breeze or hear the sounds of the forest and field. As soon as he wakes up in the morning, he gathers his gear and takes everything downstairs and outside into the early morning light to recheck his gear and get ready for the day.
(OOC: I assume that 1 gp covers his stay at the inn: room (5 sp) + gallon of ale (2 sp) + stew + breakfast.)
“Early tomorrow… right,” Berry realizes after Marten’s speech how tired he had become. As the group breaks up and everyone appears to head to their rooms, Berry does the same. Suddenly alone and in discomforting silence he feels as if something strangles him. Perhaps the small confines of the room? Gasping for air he hurries to open the window and welcomes a breeze of fresh air and not entirely unfamiliar nightly sounds.Then, he lets himself fall on the bed only to get up again immediately, looking intrigued at the bed. Unsure how he should lay in it, he decides that the large boards on the wall and opposite side must be so that one doesn’t inadvertently roll off the bed and therefore are the sides of the extremely wide bed that he was given. Without losing another thought over it, he snores into the night.
When woken up, he prepares his pack and pouches and leaves it ready for a fast departure. Then, he storms downstairs to the breakfast.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
(OOC: @Ben: (OOC: I assume that 1 gp covers his stay at the inn: room (5 sp) + gallon of ale (2 sp) + stew + breakfast.)
Yes, that covers it, except breakfast won't be offered before you want to go. Relatedly, you would only have needed to consume 1/2 day's ration on the 3rd day of your journey.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
The Following Morning
The party is up at dawn, even before which, through the quartered sashes of your gabled bedroom windows, you see lamp and torchlight from lone windows and barn doors in the near distance, where farmers are already up milking their cows and managing chores. These are long days on farms, reaping in harvests, readying to travel to Triboar or even to Neverwinter to make whatever profit can be had.
As you look around you, the first thing you notice is the presence of the mountains to the south and hills to the east, with the aptly-named Icespire Peak jutting its craggy tip high between two hilltops among the nearer eastern hills, like the eye of a great bear peeking into a beehive for honey. It is over this tableaux that the sun itself peers through swirling cumulus clouds, lording over Icespire Peak and throwing bright glints off its chilly apex.
Many, if not most, of the townspeople are up and active, holding shawls over their heads as they check their backyard henhouse for eggs, or in a short line at the well, or trudging to their day’s work, nodding heads in curt but not unfriendly greetings to one another and you when you leave the Stonehill Inn.
A lantern is on inside Barthen’s Provisions up the street, and you can see motion within it from here. Barthen, readying himself for a day’s work. His eye seems to float down toward you more than once, although that could be your imagination, it would be difficult to see that much detail through the clouded glass windows for certain.
Across the rutted main road from the Stonehill Inn, you see a woman enter the shrine’s arched doorway, facing away from you. Her garment is a length of fabric wrapped around herself many times, its end draped over her shoulder and one arm – a brick red sari, edged with thin golden borders which shine like lighting in the morning sun’s rays. You recognize the emblem of Tymora, goddess of good luck, on a tall, tasseled cap she wears as she bows her head in silent prayer.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Daphyra is one of the last to leave the taproom -- she seems to find it hard to summon the energy to go to bed, and sits staring into the fire. Once the proprietors start to pack up however, she pulls herself up and heads to her room. She completes her usual prayers to the goddess before she finally makes her way to bed.
--
Daphyra wakes, stretches and looks out the window, feeling her natural optimism return with the morning light. She regrets her prickliness the previous day and puts it down to exhaustion.
She sees the sister enter the shrine and decides to head over before the others.
Daphyra walks slowly into the shrine, not wanting to startle the other woman. At an opportune moment in her prayer, she clears her throat to attract attention.
"Good morning, gentle Sister. My name is Daphyra, Daphyra Fuffle. I have been sent here from the Temple of Bastet in Neverwinter to join your ranks, for a year to begin with. My superiors felt that my skills could be useful here, and I could learn from those at the temple here. Am I correct in understanding that you are the sole divine representative in this town? There is no full temple in the district?"
Past characters:
Cariadne - Forest of Celador
Daphyra Fuffletail - The City of Cats
DM - Geek Legends - Wild beyond the Witchlight
Leela Steadystone - Adventures in the Sands
Mirri Goldenhorn - Journeys through the Radiant Citadel
Lola Smythe-Whyte - Larkin Expedition
Daphyra - Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver
Vanja - Binder's Hold and the Problem with the Mine
Nosam awakes rejuvenated; the cold water washing over his face and the coffee he's dreaming about has him chomping at the bit to get the day started. The situation is still dire, but approaching it with a rested mind and body is better than the alternative. As he gathers the last of his things and tidies up the room, he wonders to himself how the others are doing. Did they behave like responsible folk and get some rest or did they make poor choices? The like that would make twenty-five year old Nosam proud and most respectable folk repulsed.
As Nosam arrives downstairs he looks around for the others, he notices Lady Elsa. "Good mornin' Lady Elsa, why don't you look lovely today. Could I trouble you for some coffee, preferably in the largest receptacle you can find back there?" He tries his hand at flattery with his big smile and engaging eye contact, hoping to gather her opinion of the bunch or determine if she knows more about the dealings between Barthen and Gundren. He does not want to reveal any actual plans or details to her just yet, trusting others is not his forte. Lady Elsa's drinks and hospitality may be favorable, but her motives may not be. "Have you happened to see any of the motley bunch I have been trouncing around with; did they happen to already head over to Barthen for the day's marching orders? Don't want to miss out on the booty!"
Deception 12 (10+2)