Barkly tilts her head. "Dragons do not use weapons. Dragons use claws and teeth, breath and magic. Barkly's home was in a Red Dragon's den. The flame was good for nesting."
Buckeran sits there, enjoying the odd chatter between Merkas and Barkly. "I suspect you'll find much to talk about. Giant Striders co-exist with red dragons the way mice coexist with taverns." He states with a laugh. "Does she know anything about Ibahalii Vriwhulth? You'll want to use the exact pronunciation." He repeats "Ibahalii Vriwhulth" again slowly so Barkly and Merkas can both hear it clearly. Barkly tilts her head, showing a hint of recognition in the phrase.
Buckeran rattled on about powerful weapons, his eyes bright with the thrill of discovery. Hastos and Merkas exchanged looks of grim agreement. Sera cut them off with a single, flat word.
“No.”
She planted her boots, squared her shoulders, and let her voice carry. “Those weapons you speak of — strong-willed, incredibly powerful — they reflect the passion of the evil dragons that birthed them. Buckeran, they are tools of evil and the lure of power. Victory bought with that kind of weapon is a poisoned thing.”
She took a steadying breath, forcing her thoughts into order. “Even if a champion can win battles by it, in the end the weapon will eat them. Corruption spreads like a rot; it will turn us into what we fought. I will not help find or use such arms. Destroy whatever book guides us to them, if we must.”
Her eyes swept the room, pleading now rather than cold. “The Dragonlances were granted by the gods — forged to strengthen their wielder and their metallic dragon steed, not to corrupt. We should seek the lost metallic dragons and the Dragonlances first. Find Paladine’s chosen before we ever let ourselves be tempted by Takhisis’ tools.”
She lowered her gaze, the conviction in her voice steady and simple. “Please. For our sake, for the settlement’s, and for Paladine’s. Don’t let us trade our souls for a hollow victory.”
Barkly tilts her head. "Dragons do not use weapons. Dragons use claws and teeth, breath and magic. Barkly's home was in a Red Dragon's den. The flame was good for nesting."
Buckeran sits there, enjoying the odd chatter between Merkas and Barkly. "I suspect you'll find much to talk about. Giant Striders co-exist with red dragons the way mice coexist with taverns." He states with a laugh. "Does she know anything about Ibahalii Vriwhulth? You'll want to use the exact pronunciation." He repeats "Ibahalii Vriwhulth" again slowly so Barkly and Merkas can both hear it clearly. Barkly tilts her head, showing a hint of recognition in the phrase.
Nodding at Barkly’s comments, Meraks look back up at her when Buckeran mentions the name. “How ‘bout it, that sound familiar? And do you think using a weapon made from the colour dragons would be okay for someone strong enough?”
Eyes widening at Seras input. “Yeah I guess that’s a pretty good point, we really want to have more things talking into our heads? Like I already got this blasted cursed rat necklace thing, Sera’s armour does strange stuff, and not to mention that scythe caused a guy to break into your place to steal it, and cost him his life because of it too!”
“..and the young fool who attacked us in the Dwarf.” Hastos says, nodding at Merkas. “Power is indeed a corrupting force. The three of us resisted its call, yet others will not, and we’ll have a *different* Dragon Army laying waste.” Hastos sighs heavily. “I have already paved the way for one, and I nearly made the same mistake again. Thank you both. ” Hastos bows his head to both Sera and Merkas.
But, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try and find them, or at least the information on how to make them and get it lost for good, Because if these things are corrupting good people imagine the damage they could for people that want it!” Merkas shakes his head as if to clear it “I know I am being as wishy-washy but I really think finding these thing to keep them from the hands of the enemy is important enough that we search them out, one less overpowered tool that the Dragon army has the better, Tekel running around with one is fine as he’s lost most of his influence and will only gain so much out in the wastes, we can have Ororana keep tabs on him from time time, as for the others I guess we still gotta pick, do we leave them to fate and hope luck is on our side to keep them from those that would use them against us, or take fate by the horns and guide it where we want?”
The sparkle in Buckeran's eyes freezes and dims as he watches the discussion turn away from his expectations. He waves his hands disarmingly, "Fellahahahaaaas... it's a weapon. And it is only as good, or as evil as its wielder. The... the Dragon Army weapons and armor... how do you think we've been equipping our soldiers? The Hachakee skirmishes! We take the arms of our fallen enemies and strip them. We clean and reforge them as needed to equip the Hachakee skirmishers. Eventually, we developped the ability to forge our own weapons and armor, but we still barely have enough for our guards! Weilded by evil forces... now reclaimed, and used for goo-hoo-hoo-hood!" He says with desperate chuckles in his words.
"And besides... Tekel has done amazing work out in the wasteland with his scythe. He's slain... no... obliterated Dragon Army forces, monsters, bandit hordes... anything that stands to endanger Santekh's mission! They say the weapon cuts with such immense power that there are no remains to be found of his fallen enemies! And he's gotten stronger too! He's taken on more dangerous missions, leading his small band into what would've been suicide missions for him before." He wags a finger at each of you with a slightly smug wink. "I daresay he's become nearly as formidable as you! Don't you see? The weapon doesn't give him a cause... it empowered his! His contrition and shame over the exposure of the Cult of Sargonnas has left him determined to make amends. I've never seem him so driven! Tekel used to never bother to dirty his own hands on a mission. But now, covered in sweat, blood, and grime, he returns only for more bounties. He's not even concerned with the rewards! They've been stockpiling in his vault ever since his fall from grace."
He sits down again, spent from his speech. He folds his hands and sits back. "And besides... the weapons are out there. Even without the books, someone will eventually stumble upon them. Would you prefer them to go to another cult? Takhisis perhaps? Or to someone worthy who may bare the burden and fight for the freedom of Krynn?"
Hastos cocks an eyebrow at Buckeran. “Unintentionally, you have made our case exactly!”
Hastos holds his hands up in a gesture of pause. “Merkas makes a good point as well. A lot to take into consideration. Perhaps this is something we could sleep on. We won’t need to make a decision until… *if* we run across one of these weapons.” A somber look cover Hastos’ face. “Whatever we face between now and then could also alter any decision made tonight.”
“Look Bucky, the fact that Tekel is obliterating enemies with that thing isn’t necessarily something that you should be happy with, what happens when he thinks that we’re his enemy, or the council, or the Hachakee? The fact he isn’t even worried about the rewards is also concerning because that makes it sound like that thing is taking him over, only cares about the glory, at least that’s the vibe I got from it when it talked to me. If Tekel is in control of it and is doing good with it, great! But like Haz said, you kinda made our point about being careful with it.”Merkas has stood and walked over to the elder kender “So, for now we need to prioritize the tasks we have in front of us, first things first as they say, cause the last things may not last if done to soon. Getting this cursed magic away from Santekh is a start, a possible dragon hoard where there may be mor weapons and books and gold will also help a great deal. I also wonder if there are some of these that were forged from the metal types, by their will of course not cause they were slain or anything. So we carry on with what we have in front of us and take turns in the road as they come.”
Buckeran considers your council. He doesn't seem too convinced yet.
MrUncleTio, please roll Persuasion with Advantage. To my absolute shock, the DC is 4. 🫤His response will be based on your roll.
Barkly turns to Merkas. "Ibahalii Vriwhulth is a weapon both feared and prized by red dragons. To gift Ibahalii Vriwhulth to a red dragon is to gain the favor of one. They will reward you. Kobolds fear it. My firenewt handlers would quest for it in the desert sands."
Sera look at Buckeran....blinks to his revelation of how Tekel have changed " So you say Tekel from being a snob not liking getting dirty now runs and kill with such glee he returns covered in blood and gore not caring....not caring for resourses anymore either...."
Sera look at her friends hoping her logic is bad and continue " ....he have not a body to prove for his action..he who was all about glory and show off..." She nods to herself " He have undergone a major personality change..and knowing the weapons abilities it is kinda safe to say he fallen under its influence"
Now she is a bit irritated to how blind she feels Buckeran is " as long he kills anyone opposed to Santech it is fine? You do not know how he do it. Do he kill people that surrender begging to spare their lives? And not every dragonarmy person is nessesary evil worthy of dying!" She raise her voice and look at Hastos and steps over and put her hand on his shoulder. "..or a monster worth to kill.."
she do consider a briedf second to go over to Barkley but knowing the creature not like her much she stops and look back at Buckeran
" but as long you have powerful weapon and a person loosing his soul wielding it it is ok? And what when it is no more dragonarmy, monsters or bandits around any more Buckeran?! Think he lay the weapon down and retire? He cannot any more. It have control over him. Thats when he turn on you. More powerful than anyone. You created a monster you cannot control...."
She take a deep breath...not liking to preach doom and darkness...
She waves her hand "Fine! I help find them and learn how to DESTROY them..."
Buckeran looks crestfallen, but accepts Dawnbounds decision.
"Well... to learn how to destroy them, one must first learn how to make them. The council still needs to vote on such matters. But I understand your trepidations about such an undertaking. Besides, a dragon horde stands a little more than a day's march from us. Provided the sandstorm has subsided, I'd like to continue with that mission. I will advise the council to take a better look at Tekel's physical and mental health when next he returns. Perhaps I overlooked some possible risks." With that, he concluded the meeting.
If you have anything else to do in the Mansion, wrap it up, and we'll continue the march. Living things cannot be inside it when it shrinks down to travel size.
Hastos nods in agreement and passes a knowing look to Merkas and Sera. He gets up, taking a last drink from his goblet, and heads back up stairs to get re-equipped for the journey ahead.
Sera nods. " let us rest yes. We have lots to do tomorrow. ..I see if we can get rid of that cursed medallion Merkas..I pray for a way..." Seras voice drops off as she see Hastos leave. Taking a deep sigh...she goes to her chambers...
Nodding and responded to Barkly “Don’t think I wanna be close enough to a red dragon to try and offer it but it’s good to know that it has that much power for them.”
Patting the older kender apologetically “I destroy lots of things I don’t know how to make, but I get what you mean, I think you are right that learning to make new ones that want to protect and save people is a valid goal, just these ones that tell you you are meant for glory seem to cause trouble all the time. Thanks for sharing and we will keep our eyes open for sure.”
“Thanks Seea, I could get used to it, I am blue afterall!” He laughs as she heads off. After which he heads back to curl up in the curvature of Barkly’s body, he whispers to the strider. “Think I’ll just sleep with you if that’s okay.”
Hastos goes back to his room a sits on the bed, clenching and unclenching his fists. “How could I have nearly made the same mistake again?? Have not enough people died because of my stupidity?” He feels the need to punch something, but it passes and he just grabs his face.
He lets out a disgusted grunt, then hears a latch outside in the hallway. He pulls himself together and steps out into the hallway then over to Sera’s door. He knocks gently.
”Sera… are you…” the door opens and Sera stands there in her robe, almost a shadow herself, her form being outlined by the dim light from the small decorative lamp in the room.
”I came here earlier to say… I don’t know what to think about this.” He gestures to her armor. “ I mean… I’m worried about you. What it might be doing to you.” Hastos sighs.
”But regardless, I’d like to stay with you tonight - be here with you… if you’ll allow it. ”
Nodding and responded to Barkly “Don’t think I wanna be close enough to a red dragon to try and offer it but it’s good to know that it has that much power for them.”
Patting the older kender apologetically “I destroy lots of things I don’t know how to make, but I get what you mean, I think you are right that learning to make new ones that want to protect and save people is a valid goal, just these ones that tell you you are meant for glory seem to cause trouble all the time. Thanks for sharing and we will keep our eyes open for sure.”
“Thanks Seea, I could get used to it, I am blue afterall!” He laughs as she heads off. After which he heads back to curl up in the curvature of Barkly’s body, he whispers to the strider. “Think I’ll just sleep with you if that’s okay.”
Your sleep is troubled by sounds of desert rats, scurrying about and calling overlapping phrases like "Myeah, see?""We'll get tha drop on 'em boys!" and "Quick, book it! It's tha fuzz!" Occasionally, Barkly spits a small fireball at an approaching rat. And you can hear Jasper running about through the night hunting them down.
Buckeran struggles to sleep and spends much of the night in his Arcanum, studying lore and dragons. Without Hastos's book, there isn't much to learn about the legendary weapon. But he decides to go over his notes on the effects of magic poisoning found throughout Khur as a result of a dragon abandoning their lair. Ufortunately, his studies results in little more than he already knows. Frowning and frustrated, he sits back in his plush leather chair and stairs at the fireplace.
Jasper slinks in, equally frustrated by an unsuccessful hunt, and curls up on his lap. Buckeran scratches Jasper's chin. "What if we're heading into something I've overlooked? Treats like what Hastos received are rarely insignificant. And why are the storms so powerful? Thunderstorms are symptoms of an active blue dragon... but not just any dragon. What if the creature is still there? Alive... or worse? Is it possible, that as it was left there to decay, a soul gem formed amongst its crystal lair? Could we be facing a dracolich? If so, am I leading this party to its doom?"
Buckeran strokes the scaly back of the little pseudodragon. "Jasper, how I wish I could know the secrets that await us. All my research suggests that the dragon has been dead for centuries. And we've had no dragon attacks since moving in to Santekh. Magic poisoning is the product of a dragon dying or abandoning its lair. The facts suggest that the lair is, at most, deeply haunted. But that book changes things and upsets my theories. I have no magic items that could give us an advantage against such a powerful being. But if the lost chapter, or gods-forbid, another ancient relic similar to the Glory Scythe were there, a dragon may have been bound to it... to protect it. Even in death... which would also explain the absense of dragon attacks. The only way to get answers is to move forward. And Santekh needs the blight to end in order to thrive."
Jasper lets out a high-pitched squeal, similar to roar, and Buckeran chuckles in spite of his anxieties. "Sweet baby. I know you'd protect us if you could. But your job will be to protect the treasures we recover from the lair... should we survive."
Orr the Unseen, indifferent to the affairs brought up in the brief meeting, slips away to bed, where they sleep soundly, in spite of the raging winds outside. The whole mansion squeaks and growns against the oppressive winds. But it's designed to survive a tremendous assault. And no mere sandstorm can erode its mighty walls.
Sera had just tucked herself in for the night when the knock came. She startled, her heart skipping — then the familiar voice on the other side made her chest tighten.
Hastos.
She opened the door, standing there in her nightgown, the faint lamplight glinting against the living armor still coiled faintly around her shoulders. He spoke softly, hesitantly, saying he wished to stay with her — even with the strange armor she bore.
Without another word, Sera reached out and pulled him in. It was stronger than she meant, more desperate than planned. For once, she didn’t try to control it. The armor responded, softening, parting slightly as if understanding the moment.
They drew close — two warriors clinging to warmth in a world at war. The noise of the settlement faded, the fear of tomorrow blurred away. Her pulse quickened against his, breath catching between half-spoken words. What followed was wordless, fierce, and full of longing — the kind of closeness that came only from those who had faced death too often to waste life when it offered them a heartbeat of peace.
They stumbled over to the bed. She pulling off his clothes. Kissing and caressing almost desperately. Her passion was answered. Even she could not remove her armor it parted and giving him full access. Soon they was moving and making loud noise..rythmically, faster and faster untill the climax hit them both...****y to have her flip him over and stradling him. She was a ravenous beast now...her hunger for him great. Her words a bit more daring during their passion than she used to be. ...
Later, the room was quiet again, only their breathing breaking the stillness. Sera brushed a hand over Hastos’s hair and whispered, “Whatever happens tomorrow… I’m glad you came.”
With the dawn, the storm lessens, and the angry sun begins to roast away the frosted sand crusted against the mansion walls.
Barkly nestles Merkas in a close snuggle by the fire, but begins to stir to the sounds and smell of Buckeran cooking breakfast. Finding it too dificult to sleep through the night, he instead focused on making sure the party was off to a hearty start. Flapjacks with honey and nuts, hearty sausage links, and fresh apricots. Buckeran notices Barkly stir, and tosses her a sausage link with a friendly wink. Barkly crooks her head back in confusion, then sniffs it cautiously before pecking at it. Once she determines that it tastes delicious, she swallows the link whole and coos a happy sound.
Buckeran smiles. "Oh, good! You like it! Perhaps I should fry up some more," he whispers before throwing a few more links on the frying pan. For Jasper, he sets out a small plate of apricot and cut sausage, which she munches timidly. Full from a night of rat-hunting, she doesn't really have the appetite she usually has in the morning, but she's not about to waste an opportunity to eat some of Buckeran's cooking.
He hums a tune from Ansalon... known to originate from the Plains of Solace, while he cooks up the foreign breakfast food, so sweet and heavy compared to the lavash and feta to which you've become accustomed.
Buckeran seems to be making a thick, sticky syrup from the apricots, blending it with a dense, pasty sweetener and simmering it down until its too thick to drink. He sets aside some butter near the stove to make sure it's soft enough to spread, and a tea kettle is simmering up to a boil.
Merkas awakens to see Orr the Unseen, eyes unblinking, gazing into his own, clothed in a gossamer robe. Orr is crouched low, with knees clenched together towards their chest, and they are holding a cup of black tea with a bit of honey in it towards you. Buckeran turns to toss another sausage at Barkly and nearly jumps out of his skin to see Orr there. The sausage flies loose, and Barkly catches it middair this time. "How did you-? The tea is-?" He looks over at the tea kettle, which Orr clearly would've had to pass Buckeran to get to it.
Orr, still not blinking, moves the cup towards Merkas slowly, so the aroma awakens him gently. "Not too hot, with a hint of honey."
Merkas can still hear the rats' voices in his head, arguing over who keeps watch against the "copper" which you've come to understand is both a way of identifying enforcers, and a way of describing the copper hues of Jasper's scales.
Merkas dreams shift from the regular revisiting of his sisters death to a collection of little rats in suits running around in packs, being chased down by versions of Jasper in town guard armour, a comical back and forth of the different groups running from or chasing each other.
He slowly opens his eyes, Orr’s closeness and stares seemingly not affecting the kender,(19 con save, 18- performance) “Orr, for one that goes by ‘the unseen’ you sure wear flashy clothes” Reaching for the tea “Smells good thanks, anything I can help you with? We probably gotta get moving soon hey?”
“Bucky, you sure a cooking a lot, haven’t smelled much food like that in a long time, how much farther tl the cave, best guess?”
Orr doesn't respond, but rises slowly. and glides towards the kitchen table, sitting gracefully, and reaches for their own cup of tea.
Buckeran is much chattier, and glad to have an awake friend to speak with. "Flapjacks, my boy! It's a kind of griddle cake I discovered while traveling through Ansalon! High in sugars and fats, it'll give us the strength we need to traverse this hostile land. We didn't make as much progress as I would like through the night. I'm hoping that changes today." He flips the flapjack over with a spatula and it splatters into the grease on the skillet. Once it's nice and crispy, he slides it onto a plate with two sausages, and pours the syrup over the cakes.
"We eat well in Khur, but sometimes you need something a bit heartier... something that sticks to the ribs." He says as he sets down a plate for you and goes back to cooking. "Apricot syrup! Though I prefer to use berries, I was limited by the resources we can attain through trade. You'll find it a bit tangy. I advise using copious amounts of butter!"
He looks to Orr, sitting quietly on their chair, sipping tea. "How many flapjacks and sausages would you like, my friend?"
Orr finishes their sip and swallows deeply, enjoying the aroma of the black tea. "Just the apricots, please," they respond. "May I have two?" Buckeran shrugs and sets Orr the Unseen up with a plate of sliced apricot and some nuts. "At least have some nuts. The protein is good for you."
Orr nods at the suggestion and allows Buckeran to load their plate.
Buckeran is positively vibrating with energy, and looks upstairs. "When do you suppose those two will be down?"
Orr smiles slightly. "I suspect they had a vigorous night, and may sleep in a bit."
Buckeran grunts... half amused and half annoyed. "We have a long day ahead of us. It's at least a day's march to the dragon's lair, assuming the weather allows it."
Barkly tilts her head. "Dragons do not use weapons. Dragons use claws and teeth, breath and magic. Barkly's home was in a Red Dragon's den. The flame was good for nesting."
Buckeran sits there, enjoying the odd chatter between Merkas and Barkly. "I suspect you'll find much to talk about. Giant Striders co-exist with red dragons the way mice coexist with taverns." He states with a laugh. "Does she know anything about Ibahalii Vriwhulth? You'll want to use the exact pronunciation." He repeats "Ibahalii Vriwhulth" again slowly so Barkly and Merkas can both hear it clearly. Barkly tilts her head, showing a hint of recognition in the phrase.
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
Buckeran rattled on about powerful weapons, his eyes bright with the thrill of discovery. Hastos and Merkas exchanged looks of grim agreement. Sera cut them off with a single, flat word.
“No.”
She planted her boots, squared her shoulders, and let her voice carry. “Those weapons you speak of — strong-willed, incredibly powerful — they reflect the passion of the evil dragons that birthed them. Buckeran, they are tools of evil and the lure of power. Victory bought with that kind of weapon is a poisoned thing.”
She took a steadying breath, forcing her thoughts into order. “Even if a champion can win battles by it, in the end the weapon will eat them. Corruption spreads like a rot; it will turn us into what we fought. I will not help find or use such arms. Destroy whatever book guides us to them, if we must.”
Her eyes swept the room, pleading now rather than cold. “The Dragonlances were granted by the gods — forged to strengthen their wielder and their metallic dragon steed, not to corrupt. We should seek the lost metallic dragons and the Dragonlances first. Find Paladine’s chosen before we ever let ourselves be tempted by Takhisis’ tools.”
She lowered her gaze, the conviction in her voice steady and simple. “Please. For our sake, for the settlement’s, and for Paladine’s. Don’t let us trade our souls for a hollow victory.”
Nodding at Barkly’s comments, Meraks look back up at her when Buckeran mentions the name. “How ‘bout it, that sound familiar? And do you think using a weapon made from the colour dragons would be okay for someone strong enough?”
Eyes widening at Seras input. “Yeah I guess that’s a pretty good point, we really want to have more things talking into our heads? Like I already got this blasted cursed rat necklace thing, Sera’s armour does strange stuff, and not to mention that scythe caused a guy to break into your place to steal it, and cost him his life because of it too!”
Loyalty Begets Honour
“..and the young fool who attacked us in the Dwarf.” Hastos says, nodding at Merkas. “Power is indeed a corrupting force. The three of us resisted its call, yet others will not, and we’ll have a *different* Dragon Army laying waste.” Hastos sighs heavily. “I have already paved the way for one, and I nearly made the same mistake again. Thank you both. ” Hastos bows his head to both Sera and Merkas.
“I think we are agreed.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
But, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try and find them, or at least the information on how to make them and get it lost for good, Because if these things are corrupting good people imagine the damage they could for people that want it!” Merkas shakes his head as if to clear it “I know I am being as wishy-washy but I really think finding these thing to keep them from the hands of the enemy is important enough that we search them out, one less overpowered tool that the Dragon army has the better, Tekel running around with one is fine as he’s lost most of his influence and will only gain so much out in the wastes, we can have Ororana keep tabs on him from time time, as for the others I guess we still gotta pick, do we leave them to fate and hope luck is on our side to keep them from those that would use them against us, or take fate by the horns and guide it where we want?”
Loyalty Begets Honour
The sparkle in Buckeran's eyes freezes and dims as he watches the discussion turn away from his expectations. He waves his hands disarmingly, "Fellahahahaaaas... it's a weapon. And it is only as good, or as evil as its wielder. The... the Dragon Army weapons and armor... how do you think we've been equipping our soldiers? The Hachakee skirmishes! We take the arms of our fallen enemies and strip them. We clean and reforge them as needed to equip the Hachakee skirmishers. Eventually, we developped the ability to forge our own weapons and armor, but we still barely have enough for our guards! Weilded by evil forces... now reclaimed, and used for goo-hoo-hoo-hood!" He says with desperate chuckles in his words.
"And besides... Tekel has done amazing work out in the wasteland with his scythe. He's slain... no... obliterated Dragon Army forces, monsters, bandit hordes... anything that stands to endanger Santekh's mission! They say the weapon cuts with such immense power that there are no remains to be found of his fallen enemies! And he's gotten stronger too! He's taken on more dangerous missions, leading his small band into what would've been suicide missions for him before." He wags a finger at each of you with a slightly smug wink. "I daresay he's become nearly as formidable as you! Don't you see? The weapon doesn't give him a cause... it empowered his! His contrition and shame over the exposure of the Cult of Sargonnas has left him determined to make amends. I've never seem him so driven! Tekel used to never bother to dirty his own hands on a mission. But now, covered in sweat, blood, and grime, he returns only for more bounties. He's not even concerned with the rewards! They've been stockpiling in his vault ever since his fall from grace."
He sits down again, spent from his speech. He folds his hands and sits back. "And besides... the weapons are out there. Even without the books, someone will eventually stumble upon them. Would you prefer them to go to another cult? Takhisis perhaps? Or to someone worthy who may bare the burden and fight for the freedom of Krynn?"
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
Hastos cocks an eyebrow at Buckeran. “Unintentionally, you have made our case exactly!”
Hastos holds his hands up in a gesture of pause. “Merkas makes a good point as well. A lot to take into consideration. Perhaps this is something we could sleep on. We won’t need to make a decision until… *if* we run across one of these weapons.” A somber look cover Hastos’ face. “Whatever we face between now and then could also alter any decision made tonight.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
“Look Bucky, the fact that Tekel is obliterating enemies with that thing isn’t necessarily something that you should be happy with, what happens when he thinks that we’re his enemy, or the council, or the Hachakee? The fact he isn’t even worried about the rewards is also concerning because that makes it sound like that thing is taking him over, only cares about the glory, at least that’s the vibe I got from it when it talked to me. If Tekel is in control of it and is doing good with it, great! But like Haz said, you kinda made our point about being careful with it.” Merkas has stood and walked over to the elder kender “So, for now we need to prioritize the tasks we have in front of us, first things first as they say, cause the last things may not last if done to soon. Getting this cursed magic away from Santekh is a start, a possible dragon hoard where there may be mor weapons and books and gold will also help a great deal. I also wonder if there are some of these that were forged from the metal types, by their will of course not cause they were slain or anything. So we carry on with what we have in front of us and take turns in the road as they come.”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Buckeran considers your council. He doesn't seem too convinced yet.
MrUncleTio, please roll Persuasion with Advantage. To my absolute shock, the DC is 4. 🫤His response will be based on your roll.
Barkly turns to Merkas. "Ibahalii Vriwhulth is a weapon both feared and prized by red dragons. To gift Ibahalii Vriwhulth to a red dragon is to gain the favor of one. They will reward you. Kobolds fear it. My firenewt handlers would quest for it in the desert sands."
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
Sera look at Buckeran....blinks to his revelation of how Tekel have changed " So you say Tekel from being a snob not liking getting dirty now runs and kill with such glee he returns covered in blood and gore not caring....not caring for resourses anymore either...."
Sera look at her friends hoping her logic is bad and continue " ....he have not a body to prove for his action..he who was all about glory and show off..." She nods to herself " He have undergone a major personality change..and knowing the weapons abilities it is kinda safe to say he fallen under its influence"
Now she is a bit irritated to how blind she feels Buckeran is " as long he kills anyone opposed to Santech it is fine? You do not know how he do it. Do he kill people that surrender begging to spare their lives? And not every dragonarmy person is nessesary evil worthy of dying!" She raise her voice and look at Hastos and steps over and put her hand on his shoulder. "..or a monster worth to kill.."
she do consider a briedf second to go over to Barkley but knowing the creature not like her much she stops and look back at Buckeran
" but as long you have powerful weapon and a person loosing his soul wielding it it is ok? And what when it is no more dragonarmy, monsters or bandits around any more Buckeran?! Think he lay the weapon down and retire? He cannot any more. It have control over him. Thats when he turn on you. More powerful than anyone. You created a monster you cannot control...."
She take a deep breath...not liking to preach doom and darkness...
She waves her hand "Fine! I help find them and learn how to DESTROY them..."
"
Buckeran looks crestfallen, but accepts Dawnbounds decision.
"Well... to learn how to destroy them, one must first learn how to make them. The council still needs to vote on such matters. But I understand your trepidations about such an undertaking. Besides, a dragon horde stands a little more than a day's march from us. Provided the sandstorm has subsided, I'd like to continue with that mission. I will advise the council to take a better look at Tekel's physical and mental health when next he returns. Perhaps I overlooked some possible risks." With that, he concluded the meeting.
If you have anything else to do in the Mansion, wrap it up, and we'll continue the march. Living things cannot be inside it when it shrinks down to travel size.
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
Hastos nods in agreement and passes a knowing look to Merkas and Sera. He gets up, taking a last drink from his goblet, and heads back up stairs to get re-equipped for the journey ahead.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Sera nods. " let us rest yes. We have lots to do tomorrow. ..I see if we can get rid of that cursed medallion Merkas..I pray for a way..." Seras voice drops off as she see Hastos leave. Taking a deep sigh...she goes to her chambers...
Nodding and responded to Barkly “Don’t think I wanna be close enough to a red dragon to try and offer it but it’s good to know that it has that much power for them.”
Patting the older kender apologetically “I destroy lots of things I don’t know how to make, but I get what you mean, I think you are right that learning to make new ones that want to protect and save people is a valid goal, just these ones that tell you you are meant for glory seem to cause trouble all the time. Thanks for sharing and we will keep our eyes open for sure.”
“Thanks Seea, I could get used to it, I am blue afterall!” He laughs as she heads off. After which he heads back to curl up in the curvature of Barkly’s body, he whispers to the strider. “Think I’ll just sleep with you if that’s okay.”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Hastos goes back to his room a sits on the bed, clenching and unclenching his fists. “How could I have nearly made the same mistake again?? Have not enough people died because of my stupidity?” He feels the need to punch something, but it passes and he just grabs his face.
He lets out a disgusted grunt, then hears a latch outside in the hallway. He pulls himself together and steps out into the hallway then over to Sera’s door. He knocks gently.
”Sera… are you…” the door opens and Sera stands there in her robe, almost a shadow herself, her form being outlined by the dim light from the small decorative lamp in the room.
”I came here earlier to say… I don’t know what to think about this.” He gestures to her armor. “ I mean… I’m worried about you. What it might be doing to you.” Hastos sighs.
”But regardless, I’d like to stay with you tonight - be here with you… if you’ll allow it. ”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Your sleep is troubled by sounds of desert rats, scurrying about and calling overlapping phrases like "Myeah, see?" "We'll get tha drop on 'em boys!" and "Quick, book it! It's tha fuzz!" Occasionally, Barkly spits a small fireball at an approaching rat. And you can hear Jasper running about through the night hunting them down.
Buckeran struggles to sleep and spends much of the night in his Arcanum, studying lore and dragons. Without Hastos's book, there isn't much to learn about the legendary weapon. But he decides to go over his notes on the effects of magic poisoning found throughout Khur as a result of a dragon abandoning their lair. Ufortunately, his studies results in little more than he already knows. Frowning and frustrated, he sits back in his plush leather chair and stairs at the fireplace.
Jasper slinks in, equally frustrated by an unsuccessful hunt, and curls up on his lap. Buckeran scratches Jasper's chin. "What if we're heading into something I've overlooked? Treats like what Hastos received are rarely insignificant. And why are the storms so powerful? Thunderstorms are symptoms of an active blue dragon... but not just any dragon. What if the creature is still there? Alive... or worse? Is it possible, that as it was left there to decay, a soul gem formed amongst its crystal lair? Could we be facing a dracolich? If so, am I leading this party to its doom?"
Buckeran strokes the scaly back of the little pseudodragon. "Jasper, how I wish I could know the secrets that await us. All my research suggests that the dragon has been dead for centuries. And we've had no dragon attacks since moving in to Santekh. Magic poisoning is the product of a dragon dying or abandoning its lair. The facts suggest that the lair is, at most, deeply haunted. But that book changes things and upsets my theories. I have no magic items that could give us an advantage against such a powerful being. But if the lost chapter, or gods-forbid, another ancient relic similar to the Glory Scythe were there, a dragon may have been bound to it... to protect it. Even in death... which would also explain the absense of dragon attacks. The only way to get answers is to move forward. And Santekh needs the blight to end in order to thrive."
Jasper lets out a high-pitched squeal, similar to roar, and Buckeran chuckles in spite of his anxieties. "Sweet baby. I know you'd protect us if you could. But your job will be to protect the treasures we recover from the lair... should we survive."
Orr the Unseen, indifferent to the affairs brought up in the brief meeting, slips away to bed, where they sleep soundly, in spite of the raging winds outside. The whole mansion squeaks and growns against the oppressive winds. But it's designed to survive a tremendous assault. And no mere sandstorm can erode its mighty walls.
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
Sera had just tucked herself in for the night when the knock came. She startled, her heart skipping — then the familiar voice on the other side made her chest tighten.
Hastos.
She opened the door, standing there in her nightgown, the faint lamplight glinting against the living armor still coiled faintly around her shoulders. He spoke softly, hesitantly, saying he wished to stay with her — even with the strange armor she bore.
Without another word, Sera reached out and pulled him in. It was stronger than she meant, more desperate than planned. For once, she didn’t try to control it. The armor responded, softening, parting slightly as if understanding the moment.
They drew close — two warriors clinging to warmth in a world at war. The noise of the settlement faded, the fear of tomorrow blurred away. Her pulse quickened against his, breath catching between half-spoken words. What followed was wordless, fierce, and full of longing — the kind of closeness that came only from those who had faced death too often to waste life when it offered them a heartbeat of peace.
They stumbled over to the bed. She pulling off his clothes. Kissing and caressing almost desperately. Her passion was answered. Even she could not remove her armor it parted and giving him full access. Soon they was moving and making loud noise..rythmically, faster and faster untill the climax hit them both...****y to have her flip him over and stradling him. She was a ravenous beast now...her hunger for him great. Her words a bit more daring during their passion than she used to be. ...
Later, the room was quiet again, only their breathing breaking the stillness. Sera brushed a hand over Hastos’s hair and whispered, “Whatever happens tomorrow… I’m glad you came.”
With the dawn, the storm lessens, and the angry sun begins to roast away the frosted sand crusted against the mansion walls.
Barkly nestles Merkas in a close snuggle by the fire, but begins to stir to the sounds and smell of Buckeran cooking breakfast. Finding it too dificult to sleep through the night, he instead focused on making sure the party was off to a hearty start. Flapjacks with honey and nuts, hearty sausage links, and fresh apricots. Buckeran notices Barkly stir, and tosses her a sausage link with a friendly wink. Barkly crooks her head back in confusion, then sniffs it cautiously before pecking at it. Once she determines that it tastes delicious, she swallows the link whole and coos a happy sound.
Buckeran smiles. "Oh, good! You like it! Perhaps I should fry up some more," he whispers before throwing a few more links on the frying pan. For Jasper, he sets out a small plate of apricot and cut sausage, which she munches timidly. Full from a night of rat-hunting, she doesn't really have the appetite she usually has in the morning, but she's not about to waste an opportunity to eat some of Buckeran's cooking.
He hums a tune from Ansalon... known to originate from the Plains of Solace, while he cooks up the foreign breakfast food, so sweet and heavy compared to the lavash and feta to which you've become accustomed.
Buckeran seems to be making a thick, sticky syrup from the apricots, blending it with a dense, pasty sweetener and simmering it down until its too thick to drink. He sets aside some butter near the stove to make sure it's soft enough to spread, and a tea kettle is simmering up to a boil.
Merkas awakens to see Orr the Unseen, eyes unblinking, gazing into his own, clothed in a gossamer robe. Orr is crouched low, with knees clenched together towards their chest, and they are holding a cup of black tea with a bit of honey in it towards you. Buckeran turns to toss another sausage at Barkly and nearly jumps out of his skin to see Orr there. The sausage flies loose, and Barkly catches it middair this time. "How did you-? The tea is-?" He looks over at the tea kettle, which Orr clearly would've had to pass Buckeran to get to it.
Orr, still not blinking, moves the cup towards Merkas slowly, so the aroma awakens him gently. "Not too hot, with a hint of honey."
Merkas can still hear the rats' voices in his head, arguing over who keeps watch against the "copper" which you've come to understand is both a way of identifying enforcers, and a way of describing the copper hues of Jasper's scales.
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
Merkas dreams shift from the regular revisiting of his sisters death to a collection of little rats in suits running around in packs, being chased down by versions of Jasper in town guard armour, a comical back and forth of the different groups running from or chasing each other.
He slowly opens his eyes, Orr’s closeness and stares seemingly not affecting the kender,(19 con save, 18- performance) “Orr, for one that goes by ‘the unseen’ you sure wear flashy clothes” Reaching for the tea “Smells good thanks, anything I can help you with? We probably gotta get moving soon hey?”
“Bucky, you sure a cooking a lot, haven’t smelled much food like that in a long time, how much farther tl the cave, best guess?”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Orr doesn't respond, but rises slowly. and glides towards the kitchen table, sitting gracefully, and reaches for their own cup of tea.
Buckeran is much chattier, and glad to have an awake friend to speak with. "Flapjacks, my boy! It's a kind of griddle cake I discovered while traveling through Ansalon! High in sugars and fats, it'll give us the strength we need to traverse this hostile land. We didn't make as much progress as I would like through the night. I'm hoping that changes today." He flips the flapjack over with a spatula and it splatters into the grease on the skillet. Once it's nice and crispy, he slides it onto a plate with two sausages, and pours the syrup over the cakes.
"We eat well in Khur, but sometimes you need something a bit heartier... something that sticks to the ribs." He says as he sets down a plate for you and goes back to cooking. "Apricot syrup! Though I prefer to use berries, I was limited by the resources we can attain through trade. You'll find it a bit tangy. I advise using copious amounts of butter!"
He looks to Orr, sitting quietly on their chair, sipping tea. "How many flapjacks and sausages would you like, my friend?"
Orr finishes their sip and swallows deeply, enjoying the aroma of the black tea. "Just the apricots, please," they respond. "May I have two?" Buckeran shrugs and sets Orr the Unseen up with a plate of sliced apricot and some nuts. "At least have some nuts. The protein is good for you."
Orr nods at the suggestion and allows Buckeran to load their plate.
Buckeran is positively vibrating with energy, and looks upstairs. "When do you suppose those two will be down?"
Orr smiles slightly. "I suspect they had a vigorous night, and may sleep in a bit."
Buckeran grunts... half amused and half annoyed. "We have a long day ahead of us. It's at least a day's march to the dragon's lair, assuming the weather allows it."
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