Abishai's Dragons of Icespire Peak

Back at the Stonehill Inn, 'Sandor' excuses himself saying he'll check in on Meira before they go. "Can't leave without letting her know we're going," he adds before slipping off.  

A short time later, Meira comes hurriedly back to join the others. "Hey! You were going to leave without me? What was the plan, replace me with Sandor?" (Deception: 20) She is dressed in her usual attire, though she's also wearing a dark-colored cloak, the hood pulled up over her head. There are dark circles under her eyes, making her look rather worn out. (Something 'Sandor' hadn't had - a quick disguise, rolling CHA + 2 for Disguise Kit proficiency: 12)

On the road Meira seems far more energetic than her appearance would seem to suggest. Though she's still nursing a bit of a headache. If she gets a chance to talk to Zephyros or Gareth one-on-one, she quietly inquires, "I didn't make too much of a fool of myself last night, did I?" 

As they reach the High Road, she suggests, "I say we go to the Lighthouse first. But we should rest first. No use getting there exhausted and in the dark." 

Realizing he hasn't been by the coast for some years now, Rasziel is looking forward to see the sunset at the Sea of Swords once more. He merely nods in agreement with the stylish bard. There seemed to be no immediate hurry and whatever awaited them at the lighthouse was likely best confronted in daylight while fully rested and prepared.

Zephyros watches Meira in her Sandor disguise excuse herself and then, with great amusement, watches as Meira returns. "We thought you needed to sleep off that hangover." He gives the rogue a wink.

On the road, "No, not at all Ms. Dheran. We only learned that Thunderbelly Stout may be a bit too strong for you. Haha." Though he says it a bit louder than anticipated.

As the group makes it to The High Road, Zephyros agrees to set up camp. The proximity to the coast unsettles the battle hardened veteran. "I'll take watch, you guys get some rest." He says, doubting he'll get any sleep this night. He then proceeds to patrol the area around their camp. Thoughts flooded with his lost love and speculation on what they'll find at the lighthouse.

Perception: Nat 1+5=6

"Sleep off the hangover!" Meira scoffs. "Not at all! I'm fine!" With a melodramatic tone she adds, "But I understand, you all like Sandor better. You're all just stuck with me! And anyhow, you'll find I'm much better with a bow than he is!"  

Later, when Zephyros suggests the Thunderbelly Stout might have been too strong for her, Ms. Dheran narrows her eyes. "Not at all!" she protests, sounding wounded. "I was just... caught off guard is all. You'll see next time," she adds with a grin. 

Setting up camp, Meira makes a spot for herself then watches Zephyros as he goes to wander about the area. She isn't sure what to do, and for a moment just sits, plucking a few notes on her dulcimer. Finally, she sets the instrument down, walking out slowly to join him. "So... you seem to have a lot on your mind, old man. Um... I'm sure Lyra would have some good advice for you. But... well, if you just pace around all night then how're you going to protect us tomorrow? How about you try and get a little rest, I'll keep watch for a bit, then you can brood out here the rest of the night?" 

Zephyros is surprised by Meira as she walks up next to him. Only noticing her when she speaks. Trying not to show his surprise, he turns to her saying, "You know... I'm not that old. Though it's true, the war has aged me, I'm only thirty two. I was drafted into the army when I was just eighteen. After fourteen hard-fought years of war, I was finally allowed to leave to rejoin with my childhood love. Thankfully, she waited for me and we married. Our marriage was brand new when our tail turned tragic..." Zephyros stops to regain some composure before continuing. "I've come to trust your council as much as Lyra's, or Gareth's. I fear no rest waits for me if I close my eyes." The battle-hardened veteran turns to the North to gaze down the road. "These nightmares or visions in my dreams are relentless. Even strong drink couldn't keep them at bay."

The warrior pauses for a long moment as he considers Meira's offer. "I'm terrified of what awaits us at the lighthouse. Silvara..." He says his wife's name lovingly, longingly, gently. As if the memory of his sea elf wife could bring him some comfort, and it does for a moment before returning to the present. "Very well, Ms. Dheran. I'll try and get some rest." Grudgingly, the bearded fighter returns to the camp and sets up a place next to the campfire and closes his eyes.

Meira nods, listening attentively as Zephyros tells her his tale. When he finishes and heads off to at least try to get some rest, she adds. "For what it's worth, I hope you can at least enjoy a small bit of rest. Old man." To start her turn at watch she wanders back to the campsite, picking up her dulcimer to play a wordless tune for a bit. Eventually though, she does lend words to music: 

'Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!
Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!

Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!
Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!
Fall Moon! Dark be the land!
Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!
Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!'

Song complete, she slings her instrument back upon her back and wanders out a bit from the campfire. Goggles firmly in place, she keeps a watch out for anything that might approach in the night. (Perception: 20) 

Rasziel would not disturb the seemingly private conversation of the stylish bard and the bearded veteran, instead setting up camp with the others and making himself comfortable for the night and having a simple rationed evening meal. Resting on his bedroll and looking up at the nightsky he would later enjoy the lullaby before drifting off into sleep.

Later he would diligently take his watch, assisted by his accountant.
(Perception: 24)

Back at the Stonehill inn...

After Rasziel offers the red-haired witch a healthy pour of the finest wine the Stonehill Inn can offer, Alisande takes a contemplative sip and nods in modest approval. "Not intolerable. A far cry from a good Sembian red, to be sure, but it performs the essential duty of quenching one's thirst in a pleasant enough manner, and takes the edge of the travails which we have together endured."

She clinks her cup lightly against his and regards him over its rim. "My dear merchant, I must warn you that my curiosity concerning your person has reached a rather inconvenient degree of saturation. Foremost among them is the provenance of that scroll you produced at the gates of Axeholm. While I find myself increasingly impressed by your talents in the arenas of commerce and improvisational diplomacy, such artifacts do not usually drift into one's possession like leaves caught in an autumn wind. Even the most gifted entrepreneur must usually exert a trifle more effort."

"And then there remains the curious phenomenon of improbable chaos that appears to follow in your wake. There is, of course, this most mercurial of wands. And then the unforgettable episode in Gnomengarde where the universe saw it fit to transmogrify you into an oversized lepidopteran. Indulge me, my dear. There is something I am missing in the puzzle of Rasziel, and I would care to know what it is."

* * *

Alisande accepts Zephyros' gracious offer, and assures him she will do all she can to aid in the effort.

She will also take another turn about the town of Phandalin, looking for anything at all that might of interest - some clue to the quest that brought her to the Sword Mountains in the first place, anything that might be of interest to a wizard looking to expand her knowledge and station among the Many-Starred Cloak, or a means through which her noble family might be rid of the stain upon its name.

Investigation: 19

Back at the Stonehill inn

Zephyros,

You head over to the campfire and lie down to rest...

Meira,

During your watch, all is relatively quiet. The wind direction shifts, coming from the North, and you can smell saltwater in the air.

Rasziel,

During your watch, all is relatively quiet, but the wind from the North has picked up significantly.

Alisande,

Back in Phandalin...

You walk about the town as the others go about their various tasks. With several inches of snow on the ground, the town is slow to come alive this morning.

 3

Everyone, 

You break camp early the next morning. In the early dawn hours, you can see a rather large thunderstorm to the west. The wind howls from the North. Continuing West, you travel for a few more hours before you arrive at the coastline, and can see a lighthouse in the distance to the South. Turning south along the top of the cliff, you travel until the lighthouse is directly to your West. A cliff stands between you and the beach 200' below. Below the high cliff that hugs the coastline, an outcropping of rock is nearly surrounded by water, with only a narrow causeway connecting it to the beach below. Atop this outcropping is a stone building surmounted by a lighthouse tower. An eerie green light pulses from this beacon, shining westward out to sea. With each green pulse of light, you hear a thump, thump, thump. An unnatural vortex of clouds spins around the lighthouse, with lightning crackling inside it, occasionally striking the tall pole on the rooftop of the lighthouse structure.

At first glance, you don't see a safe way down to the beach or the causeway...

Passive perception 16+

Zephyros wakes with a ragged gasp. He'd known better than to believe his sleep would be restful, but Meira had been right. He needed the sleep. The battle hardened veteran had been pushed to his limits many times during the war, but this. This was worse. The warrior sits up quickly as he gets his bearings. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he thinks back to his nightmare. This one felt different from the others. More vivid. More... lucid.

Ironheart rolls up his still damp bedroll and begins pacing the campsite. Impatient to get moving. 'Please... hurry...' The thought plays on repeat in his mind. 

The warrior sees Meira keeping watch and confides in her. "I had another dream. This one felt more like a vision." He then proceeds to tell the rogue everything.

As the group moves to the coast, his suspicions are confirmed as he watches the storm swirl around the lighthouse and an earie green light coming from the top. Looking around, the veteran doesn't see a way down. His heart beating faster than ever before. "Anyone see a way down?"

Meira finds herself keeping a worried eye on Zephyros as well as the surroundings, until he finally wakes just before Rasziel's shift. As the warrior comes over, she pauses in waking the other. She simply nods when he mentions having had another dream and listens in attentive silence until he finishes. "Oh my," she says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder when he's finished. She has so many questions but keeps those to herself. "A vision. You think the lighthouse we're going to is the one in your dream? I suppose we'll learn soon enough. I'm glad you got a little sleep, even if it was disturbed." 

She doesn't press for any more information, simply trying to console the man. "If it is a vision, then perhaps this trip can lead to some sort of closure? I hope so for both you and your wife." If there is nothing more, she would head to get some sleep herself. 

In the morning, she is up heads on towards the coast with the others. The howling wind seems ominous, and once they reach the coast and spot the swirling clouds and eerie green light, she gives Zephyros a meaningful look.  "I have some rope, but not nearly enough for such a long drop," she says. 

"Save your rope Meira, I believe there are stairs over there that we can use to get to the causeway." Raziel says, followed by a few coughs, then pointing over at the staircase carved into the narrow fissure. "I admit I remember the view of the sea being more pleasant last I was here." He adds with a small smile, seeming quite unbothered by the sinister scene. "Anyone that has any idea what we should expect out there? I almost have the sense that the lighthouse is haunted."

While traveling to the lighthouse and making camp, Gareth couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Zephyros and Meira. When the grizzled veteran reveals that he is only 32 years old, the ranger blinks and a strange expression comes over his face. At first, the expression is one of amusement which quickly transforms into a sort of melancholy. The ranger has had no cause to reveal his own age to any of their party, and he wonders how the others would react to finding out that he is older than Zephyros, by a good two decades even. It's the elvish blood in his veins that keeps his face looking like that of a much younger man. There's not even any grey in his beard yet. Gareth tries not to think too often about what his elvish blood means, especially in terms of lifespan, but there's no denying that he will likely live half again as long as a human. Half-elves have been known to reach 150 years of age, that is, if a monster doesn't get them first, he thinks ruefully.

As they make camp, the ranger thinks about how his relationship with Sylvie is like the inverse of Zephyros' relationship with his elven wife. Sylvie is human. There is no getting around the fact that Gareth is likely going to outlive his wife and by several decades. Maybe that is part of the reason why he chose such a dangerous profession. The fact is he hates thinking about his elvish side and has always identified more with his human half. It didn't help that many elves looked down their noses at "half-breeds" and didn't consider him a real elf anyway, despite his slightly pointed ears. Still in a musing, melancholy mood, Gareth falls asleep and dreams of his home in Neverwinter. 

"What a cheerful place," Gareth says as they finally reach the lighthouse. "Rasziel is right. There's a staircase down to the beach. Haunted sounds about right, judging by that green light anyway."

At the Stonehill Inn...

 * * *

In Phandalin...

* * *

Beside the sea...

"I'm sure the eldritch green light and sinister tempest don't portend anything in the least bit unpropitious." Alisande remarks dryly as she regards the lighthouse, ascending to her broom as the group make their way to the staircase Rasziel points out. Her grey eyes scan the stone and skies for dangers lurking as they approach the fissure.

Perception: 13

As the staircase is revealed, Zephyros wastes no time descending. "I don't know what we'll find here, but I won't fault any of you if you choose not to go... this is the lighthouse that haunts my dreams and I must..."

He proceeds down the staircase to the causeway, uninterested in the beach below. The veteran holds his trident at the ready, and proceeds forward, cautiously. The weight of the circumstance weighing heavy on the bearded warrior.

Perception: 7

[[OOC: What is the marching order down the staircase and across the causeway?]]

The pathway down to the causeway and beach is a narrow, jagged trial carved into the cliffside. As you clear the cliffside, the beach comes into view. The remains of a giant crab can be seen up the beach to the North. Rough-hewn steps climb a 7-foot-high tunnel that passes all the way through a 30-foot-tall natural pillar of rock. Every step closer to the lighthouse seems to intensify the speed of the vortex, almost as if the storm anticipates your arrival. Lightning continues to flicker amongst the clouds, but no thunder follows. The sea below churns violently, slamming against the rocks in irregular, unnatural rhythms. The air around you feels warm as the wind continues it's relentless assault.

Meira quickly moves to follow right behind Zephyros. "I'm certainly not going to leave you to face whatever this is on your own," she says. She carefully makes her way down the narrow path. 

At the Stonehill Inn

 As Alisande ascends on her broom, Rasziel follows, hovering after her while keeping a look out for threats. "Indeed, we've not come all this way to just turn around because the weather and some spooky lights." He agrees with the stylish bard.