“Getting the Witchdoctor Dunken: A Guide to Narcotics, Imbibements, and Toxins,” Sera read from the old cover, almost reverently. She bowed her head slightly. “I’ll guard it with my life,” she said earnestly, holding the book close as she listened to Duncan’s calm explanations about the dangerous and curative plants of the desert.
He spoke of roots, leaves, and blossoms — and then mentioned a certain large flower that produced a corrosive acid capable of dissolving metal. The idea made Sera blink in disbelief before biting her tongue to stop a laugh. A nasty flower… and if it melts your armor off, you’d be running nude through the dunes. How tempting, she thought wryly, but kept it to herself.
Her eyes wandered to Duncan’s thoughtful expression, and she caught herself admiring him before scolding the thought. Stop it, armor, she muttered inwardly as a strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin.
“I’m grateful you taught me my mother’s art, Duncan,” she said softly. “I never got the chance to know her before she died. But this—” she lifted a small pouch of herbs “—this feels like something of hers I can carry.”
Sera smiled faintly. “I’ll make use of what you’ve shown me. Healing and remedies can save lives just as surely as my sword.”
She packed several small ceramic bottles and the basic ingredients Duncan had helped her obtain, setting aside a neat stack of coins — one hundred steel — enough to brew four healing potions later.
Rising from her seat, she gave him a grateful nod and a brief, friendly hug. The armor under her cloak softened strangely against him, almost pliant, before she tore herself free with a startled breath.
“I should return to my room,” she said quickly, gathering her satchel. “We’re heading out tomorrow with Buckeran — to the old dragon cave. Maybe we’ll learn what curse still poisons that land… and perhaps find clues about the metallic dragons.”
Her voice turned almost wistful. “Paladine’s chosen. I’d give anything to see them again.”
With Hastos heading over to talk with Dana, Nare training with Ororana, and Sera brewing with Duncan, Merkas returns Barkly to the forge stable and heads off to find Piruz. “I’ll come getcha in the morning, kay? Be sure you rest well” He casts bonfire on her neat before heading off to warm to up for her. Wandering the streets he takes in the sights of the different store fronts and the more stable town before finding his way to the librarians place. Knocking on the door gently before gently pushing it in.
“Helllooo? Mister Piruz? You around?” The blue kender moves inside to see the shelves and mounds of books, scrolls, parchment, and maps about the place before spotting the curator. “Oh hi, I’m Merkas, but I ‘spose you would know that already, still getting used to this people knowing me before I introduce myself thing, anyway, I was hoping you could teach me how to draw maps and stuff, I have a really neat idea for a map table in the guildhall that could plot all the quests on it so people can map out what they want to do based on the locations of the different requests, like if there are three or four bounties in the same area or if you take a slightly longer road you could clean up two in one trip kinda thing. But I realized that I would need maps of the area first and then need to enchant them and, anyway, I figured I would start to learn cart of graffiti, so that I could get the table built.”His eyes open wide and then says, “Oh and I just thought that maybe I could get a map connected to the table so that it can be checked while on the road too, so that I can see if anything new came in while we were out! Whatcha think?”
(Merkas is going to train cartography and map their trips in their downtime. Rolled persuasion to get Piruz help in training Nat 20+10 for 30 total)
”Lovely shop.” Hastos says as he looks around, examining the assortment of items. He scans the room looking for anything that seems ominous. (Religion: 5) His knowledge of religion and its affectations being somewhat limited, he’s still keen on spotting things that seem out of place. (Perception: 19).
”I was hoping to talk to you about this.” He pulls the candle from his bag. “You seemed distressed when you gave it to me and your message was… cryptic.”
Ororana and Nare finish the day with stretches an light strength training until she's confident that Ne'haredowell will be healthy enough to march with the others in the morning. Buckeran has already sent notice that he'll meet you at the Guild Hall at dawn, and his letter positively drips with excitement.
"Wow,"Ne'haredowell says in between huffs during training, "that was sure something- that was a lot." The harengon extends his left leg out long, leaning against a wall, and it cracks. He bends his knee back in with a groan. "Thank you for this," he says with warmth in his voice. He looks back at her with a small smile. "I do not do this often."He gestures at himself in a way that's like 'As you can tell.'
"I can't believe I've been out for weeks," Nare sighs, "It is sure good to move again. This means a lot."
He stretches his arms behind his head then rolls his neck around, ears pinned to the back of his head. Finished with stretching, Ne'haredowell picks back up his cane and looks down at the letter Buckeran had sent just earlier. "See you tomorrow,"he calls out to her, eyes still scrolling through the letter. 'Maybe here tonight.'
Deciding to skip the wait, Ne'haredowell hops up the stairs to Buckeran's place. The moonlight peeks through overhead. Nare's has been asleep for what? Two weeks? It wasn't like he was tired... well the muscle aches beg to differ, but it was a quiet place to read.
"Buckeran, are you home?"The harengon calls out. "I wish to read up on this dragon's place you are having us go into. Do you have anything of use to us?"
((Investigation: 18))
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
<---- Skippy Doo from A Pup Named Scooby Doo
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
With Hastos heading over to talk with Dana, Nare training with Ororana, and Sera brewing with Duncan, Merkas returns Barkly to the forge stable and heads off to find Piruz. “I’ll come getcha in the morning, kay? Be sure you rest well” He casts bonfire on her neat before heading off to warm to up for her. Wandering the streets he takes in the sights of the different store fronts and the more stable town before finding his way to the librarians place. Knocking on the door gently before gently pushing it in.
“Helllooo? Mister Piruz? You around?” The blue kender moves inside to see the shelves and mounds of books, scrolls, parchment, and maps about the place before spotting the curator. “Oh hi, I’m Merkas, but I ‘spose you would know that already, still getting used to this people knowing me before I introduce myself thing, anyway, I was hoping you could teach me how to draw maps and stuff, I have a really neat idea for a map table in the guildhall that could plot all the quests on it so people can map out what they want to do based on the locations of the different requests, like if there are three or four bounties in the same area or if you take a slightly longer road you could clean up two in one trip kinda thing. But I realized that I would need maps of the area first and then need to enchant them and, anyway, I figured I would start to learn cart of graffiti, so that I could get the table built.”His eyes open wide and then says, “Oh and I just thought that maybe I could get a map connected to the table so that it can be checked while on the road too, so that I can see if anything new came in while we were out! Whatcha think?”
(Merkas is going to train cartography and map their trips in their downtime. Rolled persuasion to get Piruz help in training Nat 20+10 for 30 total)
Piruz, accustomed to his solitude, is at first put off by your presence, but begins to find your inquisitive nature (a trait he also possesses) and fascinating ideas for magitech, delightful.
"That's actually a really interesting idea, Merkas. Hmm. Something like that could be useful for Santekh as well. My resources are at your disposal. I ask only two things: One... always wash your hands when you come in. My books and scrolls are priceless to me. And I won't let them be sullied." He points to a bowl of clean water. "Two... please share your notes with me. I'd like to learn this process as well. I will even help you with your research, within my humble limitations."
He puts on some soft gloves and whisps away to the archives. He shows up a few moments later with a massive and heavy tome, titled Planescape: Adventures in the Multiverse. He grunts when he sets it, as gently as possible, onto the large table in the middle of the library. "Have you ever heard of Oerth? There is a country called Hepmonaland. A prominent city thrived there for centuries until a magical plague drove all magic casters mad. The most powerful of the wizards locked themselves and as many magic-users who would come inside their mighty towers to protect the city from themselves. But those with low-level magic or latent magical abilities still lost their minds and there was a bloody civil war. The city, as the legends are told, is in ruins, and few dare to go near it. Legend has it, the curse is contagious to magic users, but in one of the three towers, there is a powerful artifact: a Planar Wheel. It works similarly to what you've described. A marvel of engineering and magic, it maps the cycles of the multiverse, revealing gates before they open, and showing gates that have stabilized. It can even be used to scry to find powerful artifacts and relics throughout the planes. It's a quest that provides quite the quandary. Only the most powerful adventurers would even hope to survive such a quest. But the more powerful a person is, the more susceptible to the madness they become. And not even the gods of that region know what, if anything, is still alive, trapped in those towers. What is the name of that town..." He shuffles away to another section of the library and brings back a map of Hepmonaland. Then scurries back excitedly, setting down another book, and thumbs through the pages until he finds a map.
"Ibra Down. Here." He points to a city in the country of Hepmonaland. Three wizard towers exist in that town. It fell during the time of the older gods. Hmm... he reads a passage noting places of interest in Hepmonaland.
The Ruby Tower: Located in The Cemetary, the Ruby Tower was once one of the three most powerful wizard's towers in the city. Now it's barely more than a memorial hall where tourists come to remember the dead. The worship of Wee-Jas, once a common act in this tower, is now practically forbidden within its forlorn halls.
The Tower of Knowledge: Located in the Tourist District. The Tower is the city's largest public library and temple of worship for the god Boccob, though lately, Boccob's influence over the city has waned. Books can be read and copies of excerpts can be produced for purchase here.
The Tower of Secrets: Located in the most secluded part of the Royal District, the Tower of Secrets is now little more than a prison housing nearly all the wizards and sorcerers in the city.
"The Tower of Secrets is probably where it is stored, though I imagine the Tower of Knowledge would be a likely place for the Planar Wheel as well. If you were willing to quest for it, I could try to find a way to have it teleported to this library. From here it could be studied, and we could build the table you could require." He closes the book revealing the map. "Of course, there may be safer ways to build what you wish. I'm no wizard, but I do understand quite a bit about magic. And such an item would require a powerful wizard to cast it." Piruz scratches his smoothly shaved chin. "How much do you know about a concept called Spell Levels?"
”Lovely shop.” Hastos says as he looks around, examining the assortment of items. He scans the room looking for anything that seems ominous. (Religion: 5) His knowledge of religion and its affectations being somewhat limited, he’s still keen on spotting things that seem out of place. (Perception: 19).
”I was hoping to talk to you about this.” He pulls the candle from his bag. “You seemed distressed when you gave it to me and your message was… cryptic.”
Dana's hands tremble subtly as she takes a sip from her cup. She sets it down and swallows hard. "I've... done some... regrettable things. Most of us in Santekh have. But recent events have brought to light just how far I had fallen."
She notices you snooping around and intercepts you with a touch on the arm, guiding you to look into her eyes. "Hastos... may I call you Hastos? Your mercenary guild has done more for this town than any warrior, god, or politician ever has. And I'd be lying if I said you were the last person I'd look to for salvation when you first arrived. Your shield... and armor. I have seen it before. Your attempts to scrape the symbols off may have fooled many in town, but I was a victim of the Dragon Armies when they routed my city. Their horsemem slaughtered my husband. When I ran, my child was ripped from my hand when one of the dragonnels gripped his leg. He was torn to pieces and eaten by those horrible things before my very eyes. He was only four. He would've been five in a month. I haven't slept a full night since that awful day. I live and sleep in a world of nightmares. And in every nightmare, the symbol of the Dragon Armies is emblazoned on the shield of the monsters who did this."
She pulls the shawl low, and slips a piece of her robes off her shoulder, revealing the tip of a jagged scar... a claw mark. "I ran. I didn't die beside my son like I should have. I ran... and lived." She doesn't cry as she speaks. That part of her that could cry died nearly a year ago. She pulls the robe back up and covers herself again. "One of the dragonnels got me in the back. I nearly died of sepsis on the trail here. And I dedicated myself to any power I could find to seeking vengeance on those monsters."
It's unclear if she's speaking of the dragonnels or the Dragon Army, but it wouldn't matter. To her, it would seem, they're all monsters.
"To attain that power, I've done things. Things I am now ashamed of. But it was never enough. I'm just... not strong enough to make a difference. So... I make candles. And I tend to the refugees. The power I've gained has allowed me to make powerful magical candles like the one you have now. But candles can't fight armies. I remain as helpless as I was on that day. And one day soon, I won't even be able to make the candles anymore..."
“I am sorry for the horrors you were forced to endure.” Hastos says, his tone touched with sadness.
“The Dragon Armies have much to answer for.” Hastos turns and lowers his head. “My friends and I served with them until we saw the cruelty in their hearts. We turned on them and were slaughtered. I, too, survived. I am a Sylvanesti, they twisted my home into a living nightmare, and used me to help the, do it. The armor was mine, and I used it against them. I hunted them wherever I could find them. I also wore the armor for the time when someone came to take their revenge, I would finally pay for my ignorance and stupidity. It wasn’t until I came here that realized that they had done far worse than kill me. They had poisoned my heart.” Hastos pauses and takes a deep breath and turns to face her.
“You took the pain they burdened you with and used it to comfort others. This town relies on you and respects you. You help relieve the pain others have been burdened with. Your strength is your compassion, and you use it to give others strength to survive their horrors.” Hastos looks her directly in the eyes. “You make an incalculable difference.”
“Getting the Witchdoctor Dunken: A Guide to Narcotics, Imbibements, and Toxins,” Sera read from the old cover, almost reverently. She bowed her head slightly. “I’ll guard it with my life,” she said earnestly, holding the book close as she listened to Duncan’s calm explanations about the dangerous and curative plants of the desert.
He spoke of roots, leaves, and blossoms — and then mentioned a certain large flower that produced a corrosive acid capable of dissolving metal. The idea made Sera blink in disbelief before biting her tongue to stop a laugh. A nasty flower… and if it melts your armor off, you’d be running nude through the dunes. How tempting, she thought wryly, but kept it to herself.
Her eyes wandered to Duncan’s thoughtful expression, and she caught herself admiring him before scolding the thought. Stop it, armor, she muttered inwardly as a strange warmth pulsed beneath her skin.
“I’m grateful you taught me my mother’s art, Duncan,” she said softly. “I never got the chance to know her before she died. But this—” she lifted a small pouch of herbs “—this feels like something of hers I can carry.”
Sera smiled faintly. “I’ll make use of what you’ve shown me. Healing and remedies can save lives just as surely as my sword.”
She packed several small ceramic bottles and the basic ingredients Duncan had helped her obtain, setting aside a neat stack of coins — one hundred steel — enough to brew four healing potions later.
Rising from her seat, she gave him a grateful nod and a brief, friendly hug. The armor under her cloak softened strangely against him, almost pliant, before she tore herself free with a startled breath.
“I should return to my room,” she said quickly, gathering her satchel. “We’re heading out tomorrow with Buckeran — to the old dragon cave. Maybe we’ll learn what curse still poisons that land… and perhaps find clues about the metallic dragons.”
Her voice turned almost wistful. “Paladine’s chosen. I’d give anything to see them again.”
With Hastos heading over to talk with Dana, Nare training with Ororana, and Sera brewing with Duncan, Merkas returns Barkly to the forge stable and heads off to find Piruz. “I’ll come getcha in the morning, kay? Be sure you rest well” He casts bonfire on her neat before heading off to warm to up for her.
Wandering the streets he takes in the sights of the different store fronts and the more stable town before finding his way to the librarians place. Knocking on the door gently before gently pushing it in.
“Helllooo? Mister Piruz? You around?” The blue kender moves inside to see the shelves and mounds of books, scrolls, parchment, and maps about the place before spotting the curator. “Oh hi, I’m Merkas, but I ‘spose you would know that already, still getting used to this people knowing me before I introduce myself thing, anyway, I was hoping you could teach me how to draw maps and stuff, I have a really neat idea for a map table in the guildhall that could plot all the quests on it so people can map out what they want to do based on the locations of the different requests, like if there are three or four bounties in the same area or if you take a slightly longer road you could clean up two in one trip kinda thing. But I realized that I would need maps of the area first and then need to enchant them and, anyway, I figured I would start to learn cart of graffiti, so that I could get the table built.” His eyes open wide and then says, “Oh and I just thought that maybe I could get a map connected to the table so that it can be checked while on the road too, so that I can see if anything new came in while we were out! Whatcha think?”
(Merkas is going to train cartography and map their trips in their downtime. Rolled persuasion to get Piruz help in training Nat 20+10 for 30 total)
Loyalty Begets Honour
“Thank you, but no.” Hastos replies graciously.
”Lovely shop.” Hastos says as he looks around, examining the assortment of items. He scans the room looking for anything that seems ominous. (Religion: 5) His knowledge of religion and its affectations being somewhat limited, he’s still keen on spotting things that seem out of place. (Perception: 19).
”I was hoping to talk to you about this.” He pulls the candle from his bag. “You seemed distressed when you gave it to me and your message was… cryptic.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
"Wow," Ne'haredowell says in between huffs during training, "that was sure something- that was a lot." The harengon extends his left leg out long, leaning against a wall, and it cracks. He bends his knee back in with a groan. "Thank you for this," he says with warmth in his voice. He looks back at her with a small smile. "I do not do this often." He gestures at himself in a way that's like 'As you can tell.'
"I can't believe I've been out for weeks," Nare sighs, "It is sure good to move again. This means a lot."
He stretches his arms behind his head then rolls his neck around, ears pinned to the back of his head. Finished with stretching, Ne'haredowell picks back up his cane and looks down at the letter Buckeran had sent just earlier. "See you tomorrow," he calls out to her, eyes still scrolling through the letter. 'Maybe here tonight.'
Deciding to skip the wait, Ne'haredowell hops up the stairs to Buckeran's place. The moonlight peeks through overhead. Nare's has been asleep for what? Two weeks? It wasn't like he was tired... well the muscle aches beg to differ, but it was a quiet place to read.
"Buckeran, are you home?" The harengon calls out. "I wish to read up on this dragon's place you are having us go into. Do you have anything of use to us?"
((Investigation: 18))
<---- Skippy Doo from A Pup Named Scooby Doo
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Ibahalii Vriwhulth; Test Run
Piruz, accustomed to his solitude, is at first put off by your presence, but begins to find your inquisitive nature (a trait he also possesses) and fascinating ideas for magitech, delightful.
"That's actually a really interesting idea, Merkas. Hmm. Something like that could be useful for Santekh as well. My resources are at your disposal. I ask only two things: One... always wash your hands when you come in. My books and scrolls are priceless to me. And I won't let them be sullied." He points to a bowl of clean water. "Two... please share your notes with me. I'd like to learn this process as well. I will even help you with your research, within my humble limitations."
He puts on some soft gloves and whisps away to the archives. He shows up a few moments later with a massive and heavy tome, titled Planescape: Adventures in the Multiverse. He grunts when he sets it, as gently as possible, onto the large table in the middle of the library. "Have you ever heard of Oerth? There is a country called Hepmonaland. A prominent city thrived there for centuries until a magical plague drove all magic casters mad. The most powerful of the wizards locked themselves and as many magic-users who would come inside their mighty towers to protect the city from themselves. But those with low-level magic or latent magical abilities still lost their minds and there was a bloody civil war. The city, as the legends are told, is in ruins, and few dare to go near it. Legend has it, the curse is contagious to magic users, but in one of the three towers, there is a powerful artifact: a Planar Wheel. It works similarly to what you've described. A marvel of engineering and magic, it maps the cycles of the multiverse, revealing gates before they open, and showing gates that have stabilized. It can even be used to scry to find powerful artifacts and relics throughout the planes. It's a quest that provides quite the quandary. Only the most powerful adventurers would even hope to survive such a quest. But the more powerful a person is, the more susceptible to the madness they become. And not even the gods of that region know what, if anything, is still alive, trapped in those towers. What is the name of that town..." He shuffles away to another section of the library and brings back a map of Hepmonaland. Then scurries back excitedly, setting down another book, and thumbs through the pages until he finds a map.
"Ibra Down. Here." He points to a city in the country of Hepmonaland. Three wizard towers exist in that town. It fell during the time of the older gods. Hmm... he reads a passage noting places of interest in Hepmonaland.
"The Tower of Secrets is probably where it is stored, though I imagine the Tower of Knowledge would be a likely place for the Planar Wheel as well. If you were willing to quest for it, I could try to find a way to have it teleported to this library. From here it could be studied, and we could build the table you could require." He closes the book revealing the map. "Of course, there may be safer ways to build what you wish. I'm no wizard, but I do understand quite a bit about magic. And such an item would require a powerful wizard to cast it." Piruz scratches his smoothly shaved chin. "How much do you know about a concept called Spell Levels?"
Dana's hands tremble subtly as she takes a sip from her cup. She sets it down and swallows hard. "I've... done some... regrettable things. Most of us in Santekh have. But recent events have brought to light just how far I had fallen."
She notices you snooping around and intercepts you with a touch on the arm, guiding you to look into her eyes. "Hastos... may I call you Hastos? Your mercenary guild has done more for this town than any warrior, god, or politician ever has. And I'd be lying if I said you were the last person I'd look to for salvation when you first arrived. Your shield... and armor. I have seen it before. Your attempts to scrape the symbols off may have fooled many in town, but I was a victim of the Dragon Armies when they routed my city. Their horsemem slaughtered my husband. When I ran, my child was ripped from my hand when one of the dragonnels gripped his leg. He was torn to pieces and eaten by those horrible things before my very eyes. He was only four. He would've been five in a month. I haven't slept a full night since that awful day. I live and sleep in a world of nightmares. And in every nightmare, the symbol of the Dragon Armies is emblazoned on the shield of the monsters who did this."
She pulls the shawl low, and slips a piece of her robes off her shoulder, revealing the tip of a jagged scar... a claw mark. "I ran. I didn't die beside my son like I should have. I ran... and lived." She doesn't cry as she speaks. That part of her that could cry died nearly a year ago. She pulls the robe back up and covers herself again. "One of the dragonnels got me in the back. I nearly died of sepsis on the trail here. And I dedicated myself to any power I could find to seeking vengeance on those monsters."
It's unclear if she's speaking of the dragonnels or the Dragon Army, but it wouldn't matter. To her, it would seem, they're all monsters.
"To attain that power, I've done things. Things I am now ashamed of. But it was never enough. I'm just... not strong enough to make a difference. So... I make candles. And I tend to the refugees. The power I've gained has allowed me to make powerful magical candles like the one you have now. But candles can't fight armies. I remain as helpless as I was on that day. And one day soon, I won't even be able to make the candles anymore..."
She/her, DM and Player.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk
“I am sorry for the horrors you were forced to endure.” Hastos says, his tone touched with sadness.
“The Dragon Armies have much to answer for.” Hastos turns and lowers his head. “My friends and I served with them until we saw the cruelty in their hearts. We turned on them and were slaughtered. I, too, survived. I am a Sylvanesti, they twisted my home into a living nightmare, and used me to help the, do it. The armor was mine, and I used it against them. I hunted them wherever I could find them. I also wore the armor for the time when someone came to take their revenge, I would finally pay for my ignorance and stupidity. It wasn’t until I came here that realized that they had done far worse than kill me. They had poisoned my heart.” Hastos pauses and takes a deep breath and turns to face her.
“You took the pain they burdened you with and used it to comfort others. This town relies on you and respects you. You help relieve the pain others have been burdened with. Your strength is your compassion, and you use it to give others strength to survive their horrors.” Hastos looks her directly in the eyes. “You make an incalculable difference.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread