"I am sure you did everything in your power to save the good dwarves of Axeholm from the horrible plague, and you deserve peace now Vyldara, more than anyone I have ever met. Now, tell us what we must do to help you to reunite with your beloved."Raszielpleads with the banshee.
Another persuasion if relevant: 10 Another roll if help action is provided: 21
Zephyros, after assisting Meira with ending the remaining Ghoul -for now- glances at Vyldara. After hearing her weary laments and listening to her story, he is frighteningly reminded of his recent past.
The veteran sighs, knowing that he needs to share his shame. He clears his throat and calmy says in his deep voice, "I understand you, Vyldara. I know your sorrow. I sailed here from far away with my wife, Silvara. I had a vast crew of many fine sailors. I failed them all. The sea monsters carried all my men off, and just before I was about to be murdered, Silvara threw this trident to save my dreadful life."Ironheart motions to his weapon, his face somber.
"I am at horrible shame and grief, for I was able to do nothing to help them. I awoke on the beach, the only survivor. Now the god's curse my sleep and punish me for my inadequacies. However, you did everything you possibly could to save your people. May the god's bless you and may you finally be at peace."Zephyros finishes, barely able to put his last sentence together.
Alisande's expression softens as Zephyros recounts the sorrows that hang heavy over his heart. Rasziel's proposal seems a prudent one, but after centuries steeped in bitterness, could even these sincere entreaties reach a heart so long turned to darkness?
The moans of dwarven ghouls moaning pressing their weight against the eastern door pulls the noblewoman sharply back to the present. "Ozymandias, to the west, and softly, dearest. Find us a path out of this place." She calls to her cat, who obediently flaps his wings and vanishes through the double doors to the west.
Meanwhile, Lady Alisande swiftly sweeps up to the balcony on her broom. There, by the flickering light of a torch she kindles, her gray eyes scour the upper floor of the fortress for something secure to tie a rope to - hoping to fashion some means of escape for her companions below, should Ozymandias find no way out to the west.
Meirakeeps her bow at ready and watches Vyldara as she slowly steps over next to Lyra. When Zephyrostells his story, she has a surprised look on her face, giving the halfling a glance, realizing that this 'cursed sleep' explains their observations of the man. Though not wishing to disrupt the discussion between Rasziel and the banshee, she does speak up in a slightly subdued tone. "We don't have long folks until we have more ghouls upon us."
Vyldara listens to Rasziel and, at first, seems unconvinced at the sincerity of his words, but then Zephyros shares his own laments. As the armored warrior talks, Vyldara listens attentively... sympathetically. She asks Zephyros, "You talk of the god's cursing and punishing you... Yet ask the gods to bless me and give me peace?" She floats down, continuing to move east until she is directly in front of the eastern double doors that are under attack. She reaches for the door and touches it. Ice begins to cover the door at her touch... "No, there is no peace for me... not from the gods. I, too, am cursed for my failures." She continues to cover the door with ice. The blows to the door now seem distant and softened somewhat. "Oh, how I wish to see the moonlight again..." Vyldara looks down at Lyra. Her expression is sad as her eyes drift to the moonstone tied around the halfling's neck.
Meanwhile... Alisande flies above the banshee to the balcony above. Lighting a torch, the noblewoman quickly recognizes that the stonework railing overlooking the area below would be more than adequate to secure a rope to.
Alisande,
Ozymandias flies through the opened doors to the west and sees the stone floor covered in bits of bone and armor that have been thoroughly gnawed on. Partially opened doors lead out of this room to the north, west, and south. A long hallway leads north, with an open door on the west side, just before the hallway narrows and disappears into darkness. An arrow slit can be seen on the opposite wall to the door in the hallway.
Even if the fight seems to be over, both the cleric and the shimmering floating hand beside her remain alert. Will they be able to convince Vyldara to let them help? Rasziel's words are convincing, but Lyraisn't sure the banshee will listen—that is, until Zephyrosspeaks. As he shares his story, the halfling gasps softly and brings both hands to her mouth, as if even the smallest sound might shatter their plea.
She glances back at Meira, her expression both sad and understanding. Sothat was what disturbed Zephyros' rest. It is no wonder the man is so restless at night. "It was not your fault…" Lyra whispers as she steps a little closer to the formidable warrior.
Then, when Vyldara speaks of the moon and her gaze lingers on her moonstone, the halfling looks down at it and then back to the banshee with a shy, hopeful smile. "Perhaps we could be of help, my lady. You mentioned your love… What happened to him? Is Lord Kithran's spirit bound to this place as yours is? Could we perhaps speak with him as well?"
"I am sure you did everything in your power to save the good dwarves of Axeholm from the horrible plague, and you deserve peace now Vyldara, more than anyone I have ever met. Now, tell us what we must do to help you to reunite with your beloved." Rasziel pleads with the banshee.
Another persuasion if relevant: 10 Another roll if help action is provided: 21
Zephyros, after assisting Meira with ending the remaining Ghoul -for now- glances at Vyldara. After hearing her weary laments and listening to her story, he is frighteningly reminded of his recent past.
The veteran sighs, knowing that he needs to share his shame. He clears his throat and calmy says in his deep voice, "I understand you, Vyldara. I know your sorrow. I sailed here from far away with my wife, Silvara. I had a vast crew of many fine sailors. I failed them all. The sea monsters carried all my men off, and just before I was about to be murdered, Silvara threw this trident to save my dreadful life." Ironheart motions to his weapon, his face somber.
"I am at horrible shame and grief, for I was able to do nothing to help them. I awoke on the beach, the only survivor. Now the god's curse my sleep and punish me for my inadequacies. However, you did everything you possibly could to save your people. May the god's bless you and may you finally be at peace." Zephyros finishes, barely able to put his last sentence together.
Zephyros gives the Help action to Raziel.
Alisande's expression softens as Zephyros recounts the sorrows that hang heavy over his heart. Rasziel's proposal seems a prudent one, but after centuries steeped in bitterness, could even these sincere entreaties reach a heart so long turned to darkness?
The moans of dwarven ghouls moaning pressing their weight against the eastern door pulls the noblewoman sharply back to the present. "Ozymandias, to the west, and softly, dearest. Find us a path out of this place." She calls to her cat, who obediently flaps his wings and vanishes through the double doors to the west.
Meanwhile, Lady Alisande swiftly sweeps up to the balcony on her broom. There, by the flickering light of a torch she kindles, her gray eyes scour the upper floor of the fortress for something secure to tie a rope to - hoping to fashion some means of escape for her companions below, should Ozymandias find no way out to the west.
Ozymandias
Stealth: 23
Perception: 12
Alisande
Perception (or Investigation): 7 (or 10)
Meira keeps her bow at ready and watches Vyldara as she slowly steps over next to Lyra. When Zephyros tells his story, she has a surprised look on her face, giving the halfling a glance, realizing that this 'cursed sleep' explains their observations of the man. Though not wishing to disrupt the discussion between Rasziel and the banshee, she does speak up in a slightly subdued tone. "We don't have long folks until we have more ghouls upon us."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
Vyldara listens to Rasziel and, at first, seems unconvinced at the sincerity of his words, but then Zephyros shares his own laments. As the armored warrior talks, Vyldara listens attentively... sympathetically. She asks Zephyros, "You talk of the god's cursing and punishing you... Yet ask the gods to bless me and give me peace?" She floats down, continuing to move east until she is directly in front of the eastern double doors that are under attack. She reaches for the door and touches it. Ice begins to cover the door at her touch... "No, there is no peace for me... not from the gods. I, too, am cursed for my failures." She continues to cover the door with ice. The blows to the door now seem distant and softened somewhat. "Oh, how I wish to see the moonlight again..." Vyldara looks down at Lyra. Her expression is sad as her eyes drift to the moonstone tied around the halfling's neck.
Meanwhile... Alisande flies above the banshee to the balcony above. Lighting a torch, the noblewoman quickly recognizes that the stonework railing overlooking the area below would be more than adequate to secure a rope to.
Alisande,
Ozymandias flies through the opened doors to the west and sees the stone floor covered in bits of bone and armor that have been thoroughly gnawed on. Partially opened doors lead out of this room to the north, west, and south. A long hallway leads north, with an open door on the west side, just before the hallway narrows and disappears into darkness. An arrow slit can be seen on the opposite wall to the door in the hallway.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Even if the fight seems to be over, both the cleric and the shimmering floating hand beside her remain alert. Will they be able to convince Vyldara to let them help? Rasziel's words are convincing, but Lyra isn't sure the banshee will listen—that is, until Zephyros speaks. As he shares his story, the halfling gasps softly and brings both hands to her mouth, as if even the smallest sound might shatter their plea.
She glances back at Meira, her expression both sad and understanding. So that was what disturbed Zephyros' rest. It is no wonder the man is so restless at night. "It was not your fault…" Lyra whispers as she steps a little closer to the formidable warrior.
Then, when Vyldara speaks of the moon and her gaze lingers on her moonstone, the halfling looks down at it and then back to the banshee with a shy, hopeful smile.
"Perhaps we could be of help, my lady. You mentioned your love… What happened to him? Is Lord Kithran's spirit bound to this place as yours is? Could we perhaps speak with him as well?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra