Vazo'yn does indeed join the youthful knight in his music. He is quiet at first, simply listening to the knight's song and letting it fill the air, following the unwritten musicians' code never to prematurely intrude upon another's piece. He spends the time learning the knight's tune and the way he expertly plays the erhu.
When Vazo'yn joins it's to compliment and not overpower the knight's performance. He slips a small, well-loved but well-kept pan flute from its place on his chest, and begins to play. The tune is haunting and echoes around them, somehow perfectly matched to the knight's song but with its own almost discordant melody. It sounds like wind howling through caves before softening to the harmonic whispers of the Veilsingers he had described to the Fellowship. His eyes are closed as he plays, his mind drifting back to those nights years ago... Perhaps they are decades behind him now, thanks to the wind.
After the pair bring their duet to a close, Vazo'yn would pull the young man aside and speak in a quiet, sombre voice.
"You should be proud of your art. An instrument cares not for the gender of its master. Where I'm from, people who work such magic as you have woven are honoured and respected. Cherish your gift."
When dawn breaks the following morning and Shara and her group set out, Vazo'yn turns his attention to the river and the journey beyond.
"The raft will be precarious," he says without looking at it.
"Shara and her people were lucky to make it, I think. I could weave my magic to change one of us into a large, aquatic animal and they could ferry us across."
Joy reaches up to take Jack’s offered hand with a warm smile, rising to her feet and brushing the dew from her cloak. “We shall,”she echoes softly, the peace of the river still clinging to her like a shawl of calm. She follows him back to the camp, the quiet comfort of shared silence lingering between them.
Around the fire, Joy settles in close to Ylis when invited, genuinely touched by the harengon’s trust. She eats with surprising cheer, delighted by the subtle flavors Jack’s unseen hand has coaxed from their simple fare. Her eyes shine as the young knight plays, her head swaying gently to the rhythm, and when Vazo’yn joins in, she clasps her hands together over her heart at the haunting harmony they create. Jack’s tale earns a bright laugh from her and an enthusiastic round of applause, her joy bubbling to the surface like sunlight through storm clouds.
When the topic of crossing the river arises in the morning, she leans forward, eyes wide with interest. “That’s brilliant,” she says to Vazo’yn, practically beaming. “I have spells for healing, protection, light, smiting—but nothing that could help us cross something like that."
Randa spends the night cradling Rainfall as she watches over her companions, a slight smile plays across her lips as they enjoy the pleasant melodies, and relax in each others company. When morning comes she stirs from her reverie and considers the path ahead.
She considers the use of the raft and the more magical solutions offered, she is personally unsure about bringing the horses any further....they are creatures of the plains and grasslands and will not fare well in the mountains.....
She is intrigued by the thought of transformation.......
" If you need a volunteer I am pleased to offer myself to be transformed. I lack the magical gifts of most here and will likely be of most use as a beast."
Riven sat apart from the others, as was his way, not from disregard, but from a comfort born of solitude. He perched upon a weather-smoothed stone just beyond the edge of firelight, Hollow nearby, chewing idly and resting after the strain of the day.
The stars above gleamed like silent sentinels, and he tilted his head up toward them, letting their cold, ancient light fill his eyes. His hood cast a shadow over his features, but his expression was neutral, distant. Behind him, laughter rose gently, the thread of song weaving between tales and kindhearted jest.
He listened, not to the words, but to the music between them. To the way strangers, still stained with blood and sweat, found ways to smile. To lean closer. To pass food and laughter. He had never been one for such moments. Riven did not know how to offer himself to a group in that way, nor what he might offer even if he tried.
But he watched. Observed the ease with which bonds began to form, in shared bread and simple songs. He respected it. Envied it, perhaps.
His eyes drifted to the edge of the fire’s glow, and there, he noted her. Randa. Still, quiet, like him. Separate. Watching with a different kind of attention. Not cold, not unfeeling, just… removed.
He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, a subtle gesture that spoke more than words might. He saw her. Understood her. Then he leaned back again and gently pulled his cloak tighter, letting the hood obscure his silver eyes. His breath fogged in the cool night air.
The scent of cold river mist greeted him before dawn. As the group began to stir and speak of rafts, ropes, and transformation, Riven kept his counsel. His eyes lingered on the river’s rush, then on Hollow, who nuzzled against his shoulder with a low, comforting huff. He smiled faintly, scratching along the steed’s jaw, forehead pressed lightly against his mount’s in silent thanks.
He did not concern himself with magical logistics or the merits of aquatic forms. Others could handle that. When the moment of crossing came, he would do so at the ready, eyes open, trusting in his instincts. But until then, he would wait.
Then she rubs her head between her eyes. Tiny tears begin the streak down the fur on her face. I told that grouchy mayor guy...I made a promise...How can I do that when we have that (she looks at the river)...you can hear her sniffling...a promise is a promise...I can't send Gust into that...but how can I keep my promise to take care of him if I send him away?...
She walks away from the others with Gust in tow, "I know what I told your dad. But I can't be the one to care for you right now. We have to do big people stuff and you can't come. You have to follow them" the rabbit girl points to the refugees "They can take care of you I think." She hugs the pony and wipes her eyes, feelings of regret and broken promises churning in her heart.
"GO!" she shouts and slaps the pony on the rump.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
As Ylis’s shout rang out, the sharp slap of her palm against Gust’s hindquarters echoed off the riverbank. The pony jerked forward in surprise, then began to trot away, hesitantly at first—its ears twitching, looking back over its shoulder as if confused by the command.
And then the whistle came.
A piercing, clear sound that cut through the morning mist like a drawn blade.
Riven stood beside Ylis without fanfare, as though he had always been there. The brim of his hood shadowed his eyes, but not the gentle set of his mouth. The wind tugged at his cloak as he lowered his hand from his lips, watching as Hollow, alerted by the call, turned their head toward the departing pony.
For a moment, nothing. Then Hollow moved. A quiet huff, a subtle toss of the mane, and he was off, hooves striking the earth in steady rhythm, not charging but choosing. Catching up.
The two would find each other in the fields beyond the camp. Riven didn’t need to watch it to know it.
“They have each other to take care of now,” he said, voice low but certain.
He looked down to Ylis, not to diminish her grief, but to let her see that he understood. That giving something away for its own good didn’t make the promise broken. Just heavier.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, cloak trailing softly behind him, heading toward his gear to begin packing for the next trial.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Um...if anyone would want that I could turn us all into small clouds to float across the river, it's kind of a tickling feeling but otherwise quite safe....I think." The dark-haired man says with a shrug as the drow brings up the topic of how to get across the water. "But I'm also fine with being turned into a giant sea creature of course, would definitely make for a better story." He adds with a grin.
Meanwhile the tiny invisible blonde flies across the river to make sure nothing sinister is awaiting them on the other side. Lily Stealth: 18 Perception: 10
Giles will spend the night at camp with everyone else.
In the morning, he adds "I can run across the river, but it is moving pretty fast, I'd hate to trip or falter and be washed away. I'm thinking I'd like to be a cloud, that sounds, peaceful, contemplative" he says, then adds "a cloud, how interesting. A cloud during a rain storm, on a sunny day, how exciting of a concept."
"OH!" he bursts out uncharacteristically for the normally stoic monk, "could your cloud transformation save us from the effects of another time wave it we see it coming?" he asks the dark-haired man.
Vazo'yn stares out over the torrent of water ahead of them, a grim part of his mind imagining the Fellowship being washed away, their hopes of ending this calamity dashed on the rocks downstream. A shiver runs down his spine and he shakes his head to dislodge that thought.
Clouds floating over the top of the waters sounded promising.
"Can you transform us all at once so we can cross together, Jack? This is a good idea," he says, turning back to the group.
"You know, once we have dealt with this pesky withering wind I believe we must explore being a cloud in full depth."Jack says with grin to Giles, giving the dwarven monk a friendly pat on the back. "I doubt anything can prevent the effects of the withering wind though."
"Oh...um...no...it's more like...um...three at a time journey, so if we decide to travel by cloud we should consider who would cross first and who would go last." He explains to Vazo'yn and the others present.
"I don't like the thought of splitting us up like that. If something goes wrong..."
He leaves it unsaid that they would be separated by half a mile of unforgiving waters, neither group able to help the other.
"Perhaps we work together. You transform three of us, and the others cross on the back of a giant beast. With a smaller group and no horses, maybe I could turn someone into a large enough bird or the like."
The dark-haired man nods. "We can try that, believe me, I would much prefer to have us stay together, but you must understand that those in cloud form won't be able to assist those on the back of the giant beast anyway." He explains. "That being said, I'm willing to go along with whatever you all decide we should go for."
Joy listens with growing fascination, her eyes bouncing between Jack and Vazo’yn like a child at a festival. “All of this sounds…amazing,” she says, beaming. “Clouds, sea beasts, giant birds—honestly, I’d be thrilled with any of it, but I agree, we should cross together if we can. If something were to happen, I’d rather be at everyone’s side to face it."
Riven crouches low beside the bank, letting the chatter of clouds and sea beasts drift behind him. He crouches beside the riverbank, his boots pressing into the damp earth. The conversation behind him fades to a low murmur as he reaches down and plucks a few thin blades of grass from the soil.
He rises slowly, silent as ever, and holds the grass between his fingers for a moment, eyes scanning the treetops and the ripples on the water.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he casts the blades into the air, watching. To see which direction the blades are carried, a path across the river or in some other direction all together.
Jack’s scrying spell reveals Eckor sitting in a patch of earth that appears to be from the same fields Jack himself had traveled only the day before, though it is hard to tell for certain with only a 10 ft x 10 ft view. By Jack’s best estimation, Eckor traveled on foot the entire night and collapsed. He is seen weeping, cradling his face in his hands and rocking back and forth in a self-soothing motion. The rations have been gnawed at, though sit in the dirt nearby. The brass sunburst medallion and book sit next to the rations.
Lily floats across the river, invisible, soundless, and notes that the other side of the river looks much the same as the side she came from, with the exception of a dense and dark forest directly ahead, packed against the foot of the mountain range. It seems pretty safe, by her estimation.
Riven immediately can see that the wind is blowing west, which is common for this region, as the wind rolls off the Ashkeeper Peaks west, over the Marrow Valley. Additionally, Riven notes the clear sky, with only a few brush strokes of light, hazy clouds that stretch the sky to the south, heading west.
The horses all begin their trek. First Gust and Hollow, but the remaining horses belonging to Randa and Vazo’yn follow as well. Three horses and a powerful looking pony, trotting west, likely back toward Trostenwald.
Jack would have shared with Joy what he had seen in the mirror, Eckor seemingly struggling with his future but there was still hope, the holy book and the symbol still within his grasp.
"The other side of the river is safe as far as Lily can tell." He shares with the others as the tiny blonde reports back. "I'm ready to do this the way you decide Vazo'yn."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Vazo'yn does indeed join the youthful knight in his music. He is quiet at first, simply listening to the knight's song and letting it fill the air, following the unwritten musicians' code never to prematurely intrude upon another's piece. He spends the time learning the knight's tune and the way he expertly plays the erhu.
When Vazo'yn joins it's to compliment and not overpower the knight's performance. He slips a small, well-loved but well-kept pan flute from its place on his chest, and begins to play. The tune is haunting and echoes around them, somehow perfectly matched to the knight's song but with its own almost discordant melody. It sounds like wind howling through caves before softening to the harmonic whispers of the Veilsingers he had described to the Fellowship. His eyes are closed as he plays, his mind drifting back to those nights years ago... Perhaps they are decades behind him now, thanks to the wind.
After the pair bring their duet to a close, Vazo'yn would pull the young man aside and speak in a quiet, sombre voice.
"You should be proud of your art. An instrument cares not for the gender of its master. Where I'm from, people who work such magic as you have woven are honoured and respected. Cherish your gift."
[[Performance: 20, with adv from casting Enhance Ability.]]
When dawn breaks the following morning and Shara and her group set out, Vazo'yn turns his attention to the river and the journey beyond.
"The raft will be precarious," he says without looking at it.
"Shara and her people were lucky to make it, I think. I could weave my magic to change one of us into a large, aquatic animal and they could ferry us across."
Joy reaches up to take Jack’s offered hand with a warm smile, rising to her feet and brushing the dew from her cloak. “We shall,” she echoes softly, the peace of the river still clinging to her like a shawl of calm. She follows him back to the camp, the quiet comfort of shared silence lingering between them.
Around the fire, Joy settles in close to Ylis when invited, genuinely touched by the harengon’s trust. She eats with surprising cheer, delighted by the subtle flavors Jack’s unseen hand has coaxed from their simple fare. Her eyes shine as the young knight plays, her head swaying gently to the rhythm, and when Vazo’yn joins in, she clasps her hands together over her heart at the haunting harmony they create. Jack’s tale earns a bright laugh from her and an enthusiastic round of applause, her joy bubbling to the surface like sunlight through storm clouds.
When the topic of crossing the river arises in the morning, she leans forward, eyes wide with interest. “That’s brilliant,” she says to Vazo’yn, practically beaming. “I have spells for healing, protection, light, smiting—but nothing that could help us cross something like that."
Randa spends the night cradling Rainfall as she watches over her companions, a slight smile plays across her lips as they enjoy the pleasant melodies, and relax in each others company. When morning comes she stirs from her reverie and considers the path ahead.
She considers the use of the raft and the more magical solutions offered, she is personally unsure about bringing the horses any further....they are creatures of the plains and grasslands and will not fare well in the mountains.....
She is intrigued by the thought of transformation.......
" If you need a volunteer I am pleased to offer myself to be transformed. I lack the magical gifts of most here and will likely be of most use as a beast."
Riven sat apart from the others, as was his way, not from disregard, but from a comfort born of solitude. He perched upon a weather-smoothed stone just beyond the edge of firelight, Hollow nearby, chewing idly and resting after the strain of the day.
The stars above gleamed like silent sentinels, and he tilted his head up toward them, letting their cold, ancient light fill his eyes. His hood cast a shadow over his features, but his expression was neutral, distant. Behind him, laughter rose gently, the thread of song weaving between tales and kindhearted jest.
He listened, not to the words, but to the music between them. To the way strangers, still stained with blood and sweat, found ways to smile. To lean closer. To pass food and laughter. He had never been one for such moments. Riven did not know how to offer himself to a group in that way, nor what he might offer even if he tried.
But he watched. Observed the ease with which bonds began to form, in shared bread and simple songs. He respected it. Envied it, perhaps.
His eyes drifted to the edge of the fire’s glow, and there, he noted her. Randa. Still, quiet, like him. Separate. Watching with a different kind of attention. Not cold, not unfeeling, just… removed.
He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, a subtle gesture that spoke more than words might. He saw her. Understood her. Then he leaned back again and gently pulled his cloak tighter, letting the hood obscure his silver eyes. His breath fogged in the cool night air.
The scent of cold river mist greeted him before dawn. As the group began to stir and speak of rafts, ropes, and transformation, Riven kept his counsel. His eyes lingered on the river’s rush, then on Hollow, who nuzzled against his shoulder with a low, comforting huff. He smiled faintly, scratching along the steed’s jaw, forehead pressed lightly against his mount’s in silent thanks.
He did not concern himself with magical logistics or the merits of aquatic forms. Others could handle that. When the moment of crossing came, he would do so at the ready, eyes open, trusting in his instincts. But until then, he would wait.
Ylis wakes with a yawn and stretch.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/VXSPm1TWHr8
Then she rubs her head between her eyes. Tiny tears begin the streak down the fur on her face. I told that grouchy mayor guy...I made a promise...How can I do that when we have that (she looks at the river)...you can hear her sniffling...a promise is a promise...I can't send Gust into that...but how can I keep my promise to take care of him if I send him away?...
She walks away from the others with Gust in tow, "I know what I told your dad. But I can't be the one to care for you right now. We have to do big people stuff and you can't come. You have to follow them" the rabbit girl points to the refugees "They can take care of you I think." She hugs the pony and wipes her eyes, feelings of regret and broken promises churning in her heart.
"GO!" she shouts and slaps the pony on the rump.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
As Ylis’s shout rang out, the sharp slap of her palm against Gust’s hindquarters echoed off the riverbank. The pony jerked forward in surprise, then began to trot away, hesitantly at first—its ears twitching, looking back over its shoulder as if confused by the command.
And then the whistle came.
A piercing, clear sound that cut through the morning mist like a drawn blade.
Riven stood beside Ylis without fanfare, as though he had always been there. The brim of his hood shadowed his eyes, but not the gentle set of his mouth. The wind tugged at his cloak as he lowered his hand from his lips, watching as Hollow, alerted by the call, turned their head toward the departing pony.
For a moment, nothing. Then Hollow moved. A quiet huff, a subtle toss of the mane, and he was off, hooves striking the earth in steady rhythm, not charging but choosing. Catching up.
The two would find each other in the fields beyond the camp. Riven didn’t need to watch it to know it.
“They have each other to take care of now,” he said, voice low but certain.
He looked down to Ylis, not to diminish her grief, but to let her see that he understood. That giving something away for its own good didn’t make the promise broken. Just heavier.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, cloak trailing softly behind him, heading toward his gear to begin packing for the next trial.
"Um...if anyone would want that I could turn us all into small clouds to float across the river, it's kind of a tickling feeling but otherwise quite safe....I think." The dark-haired man says with a shrug as the drow brings up the topic of how to get across the water. "But I'm also fine with being turned into a giant sea creature of course, would definitely make for a better story." He adds with a grin.
Meanwhile the tiny invisible blonde flies across the river to make sure nothing sinister is awaiting them on the other side.
Lily Stealth: 18 Perception: 10
Giles will spend the night at camp with everyone else.
In the morning, he adds "I can run across the river, but it is moving pretty fast, I'd hate to trip or falter and be washed away. I'm thinking I'd like to be a cloud, that sounds, peaceful, contemplative" he says, then adds "a cloud, how interesting. A cloud during a rain storm, on a sunny day, how exciting of a concept."
"OH!" he bursts out uncharacteristically for the normally stoic monk, "could your cloud transformation save us from the effects of another time wave it we see it coming?" he asks the dark-haired man.
Vazo'yn stares out over the torrent of water ahead of them, a grim part of his mind imagining the Fellowship being washed away, their hopes of ending this calamity dashed on the rocks downstream. A shiver runs down his spine and he shakes his head to dislodge that thought.
Clouds floating over the top of the waters sounded promising.
"Can you transform us all at once so we can cross together, Jack? This is a good idea," he says, turning back to the group.
"You know, once we have dealt with this pesky withering wind I believe we must explore being a cloud in full depth." Jack says with grin to Giles, giving the dwarven monk a friendly pat on the back. "I doubt anything can prevent the effects of the withering wind though."
"Oh...um...no...it's more like...um...three at a time journey, so if we decide to travel by cloud we should consider who would cross first and who would go last." He explains to Vazo'yn and the others present.
Vazo'yn frowns, his brow creasing with worry.
"I don't like the thought of splitting us up like that. If something goes wrong..."
He leaves it unsaid that they would be separated by half a mile of unforgiving waters, neither group able to help the other.
"Perhaps we work together. You transform three of us, and the others cross on the back of a giant beast. With a smaller group and no horses, maybe I could turn someone into a large enough bird or the like."
The dark-haired man nods. "We can try that, believe me, I would much prefer to have us stay together, but you must understand that those in cloud form won't be able to assist those on the back of the giant beast anyway." He explains. "That being said, I'm willing to go along with whatever you all decide we should go for."
Joy listens with growing fascination, her eyes bouncing between Jack and Vazo’yn like a child at a festival. “All of this sounds…amazing,” she says, beaming. “Clouds, sea beasts, giant birds—honestly, I’d be thrilled with any of it, but I agree, we should cross together if we can. If something were to happen, I’d rather be at everyone’s side to face it."
Riven crouches low beside the bank, letting the chatter of clouds and sea beasts drift behind him. He crouches beside the riverbank, his boots pressing into the damp earth. The conversation behind him fades to a low murmur as he reaches down and plucks a few thin blades of grass from the soil.
He rises slowly, silent as ever, and holds the grass between his fingers for a moment, eyes scanning the treetops and the ripples on the water.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he casts the blades into the air, watching. To see which direction the blades are carried, a path across the river or in some other direction all together.
Survival to see which way the wind is blowing: 25
Tongue sticking out, Ylis takes out a charcoal and scribbles furiously on a blank page of her spellbook.
FoG shaipes magik
Water beets magik
Flying bords magik
Detick wind magik
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
"I understand," Vazo'yn nods as Jack explains the limitations of the transformation.
"I still think that will be better than being separated by the river with some of us on either side."
He turns to Randa, determined but with a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"How do you feel about being an enormous crab?"
" I've been called worse."
She frowned, " I don't know the spell......my people.....some could become animals but they were still them inside.....will I still have my own mind?"
" I don't want to accidentally eat everyone...."
"It is not quite the same, I think. You will still be yourself, mostly," Vazo'yn explains with an earnest expression.
"But your mind will not be as keen as it is now. You'll be duller, like an animal, though not without the soul that makes you you."
Jack’s scrying spell reveals Eckor sitting in a patch of earth that appears to be from the same fields Jack himself had traveled only the day before, though it is hard to tell for certain with only a 10 ft x 10 ft view. By Jack’s best estimation, Eckor traveled on foot the entire night and collapsed. He is seen weeping, cradling his face in his hands and rocking back and forth in a self-soothing motion. The rations have been gnawed at, though sit in the dirt nearby. The brass sunburst medallion and book sit next to the rations.
Lily floats across the river, invisible, soundless, and notes that the other side of the river looks much the same as the side she came from, with the exception of a dense and dark forest directly ahead, packed against the foot of the mountain range. It seems pretty safe, by her estimation.
Riven immediately can see that the wind is blowing west, which is common for this region, as the wind rolls off the Ashkeeper Peaks west, over the Marrow Valley. Additionally, Riven notes the clear sky, with only a few brush strokes of light, hazy clouds that stretch the sky to the south, heading west.
The horses all begin their trek. First Gust and Hollow, but the remaining horses belonging to Randa and Vazo’yn follow as well. Three horses and a powerful looking pony, trotting west, likely back toward Trostenwald.
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Jack would have shared with Joy what he had seen in the mirror, Eckor seemingly struggling with his future but there was still hope, the holy book and the symbol still within his grasp.
"The other side of the river is safe as far as Lily can tell." He shares with the others as the tiny blonde reports back. "I'm ready to do this the way you decide Vazo'yn."