The lady smiles at Jex as he enters and passes him the cloak. Its colours swirls to match those around it.
"This is a Cloak of Elvenkind. You have likely heard of them. It will keep you hidden from prying eyes."
She nods graciously to all in response to the thanks and departs with Lord Keltin, leaving Peldirion to answer any further questions.
"You shall have glass flasks," he assures Thurston. "Much less contamination than leather. I'll arrange for a crate of them to be brought by your lodgings."
He then takes a brief look at Vark's silver raven, to confirm that it is indeed magical, before fumbling in his pouch for a small pearl and an owl feather that he uses in a short ritual to ascertain the exact nature of the enchantment.
"Ah!" He exclaims a minute later. "I should have recognised it immediately. This is a Figurine of Wondrous Power!"
He takes a couple of minutes to explain to Vark exactly how to use the item.
Jex grins broadly, his gratitude for the gift is something he cannot contain.
"My sincerest thanks m'lady."
He puts it on immediately, watching the colours change to match the wall seeing the patterns alter and trying to match his movements to the magical shifts, it would take a little getting used to.
"Where are we going? What do we need vials for?" He takes a moment to look up from his gift, worried he has missed something important.
After a few moments of deliberation, Valaith profusely thanks the Lady for the gift of the armor and gingerly takes it within her massive hands. "This is the nicest thing I have ever had..." She whispers to no one in particular as she inspects the breastplate. She glances over as the elves begin to identify a magical item for Vark and makes a mental note to approach them about the oddities with her hammer, but first... She steps over to Jex to answer his question. "They need basilisk blood for a cure for the people infected with...whatever this is." She gestures vaguely towards the Great Hall. "So we are going hunting." She says with a large grin as she claps Jex on the back.
Once Peldirion has completed with Vark's raven, Val walks over with her hammer out. "If I might, good elf? Could you look over my hammer? While we were dealing with those bandits and their demon cultists, I noticed several times during our fights that my hammer was... sparking? Sometimes after I would deal a killing blow, there would be these black sparks that would shoot up my weapon. I was wondering if you could tell me what might be happening?"
Peldirion holds out his hands for Valaith to pass him the huge maul, and they sag significantly as he takes the weight. He lets out a breath of exertion and hefts the weapon to inspect it, before laying it upon the ground and beginning his ritual. A circle of elven sigils flashes on the floorboards around the item as the elf hold out his hand, probing for a magical response, and he frowns in concentration. Then the spell ends.
"An -ahem- a most peculiar hammer," Peldirion begins hesitantly, indicating to the goliath that she may pick it back up. "The magical aura is necromantic in nature... but it's more than that. The weapon is infused with a demonic energy that has been bound to it somehow. The arcane matrix is unstable - in flux even."
The elf grows increasingly excited as he explains arcane theory, before cutting himself short as he realises he is beginning to babble.
"Whatever this hammer is right now, it is not what it will become, and unknown magical artefacts can be dangerous. Be careful with it. For now, it should be able to restore your energy in battle, by draining that of the foes you fell. However, you will need to bond with the weapon to properly take advantage of its power."
(OOC: Valaith's maul has the same effect as the Blood Spear whenever she deals wound damage.)
At the mention of the terrible prey, Bründir nods sagely, "Ah yeah, basilisks. Bastard, inbred cousins of kobolds an' their mounts. Say the spit'll turn ye to stone, but th' claws'll make ye go crazy. Also heard scales make fine seat leather an' parts of'em will keep ye..." He grabs his breeches just under his belt, but stops himself short considering the company present, "They got all kinds o' uses, I hear..."
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Valaith picks up her hammer gingerly and inspects it before giving the elf a look that clearly indicates she has no idea what he's saying until he breaks it down into more layman's terms for her. She nods absently at the further explanation as she looks at her hammer warily. "Demonic energy? Is this... cursed or something? Do I need to worry about it draining my life?" She appears very disconcerted about this explanation of her hammer. "If I bond with it like you say, would that give me more control over this influence?"
"No," Peldirion states firmly. "This weapon does not possess any curse that would harm its wielder. It simply acts as a... channel, funnelling energy to you. To properly do that, it must know you. My only caveat is that this power is unstable. It may well grow over time and I cannot tell you what it will grow into."
Valaith nods and blinks as she stares dubiously at the weapon. "Thank you. I will seek you out again should it start becoming something... different." She starts to turn away, but thinks of another question suddenly. "How do I bond with it?" She then listens intently to the elf's description of attuning to the weapon.
"Stories go that master fighters swung a sword like part of their arm. Maybe just keep swingin' it?" Bründir's hypothesis was punctuated with a shrug, then a jump as he remembered his sword. "'Spose ye already know about it, but my ol' heirloom 'ere was glowin' 'round those people. Any way ye could give it a look-see?" He carefully flips the blade to present it pommel-first.
"While we're talkin' about it, me mum taught me th'same trick ye're doin' with that pearl. Said she learned it from some two-copper wandering merchant that didn't wanna get swindled. I was on my way to Ms. Dorothy to see if she had one for sale when the ruckus started. I'll pay, wherever they are, 'cause I don' wanna be indebted to anybody. Actually," he nudged Jex's leg, "We got ourselves a whole wagon o' goods from th' damned rats' nest we cleared out. I don' suppose yer guards could use some extra padding or pokers?"
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"I'm afraid you'll have to see Gadron or Damdor about that," Peldirion replies, as he carefully takes the blade and looks it up and down.
"I can, however, sell you this pearl when I'm done. I have more at my laboratory."
He inspects the sword for a moment, weighing it in his hands.
"Dwarven craft, although they don't forge in this style anymore. Rare for your people to craft a long blade."
The elf squints at the rune that has revealed itself on the hilt, then holds the weapon out in front of him, blade up and both hands clasped around the grip.
"MAKAZ A DAL! OR RINK EK!" Peldirion intones loudly in Dwarvish and the sword flares to life, its blade shrouded in gold and blue flame. All other lights in the room are immediately extinguished and an entire string of runes is illuminated along its length.
"Weapon of old! I command you!"
DUMDRENGI HAND OF ERIK CHOSEN OF GRUMBAR
The flames are gone as quickly as they appeared and the room is left in darkness. Peldirion breathes deeply.
"Well, that was rather more dramatic than expected," he begins with a weak smile.
"I think that was rather self explanatory, master Dwarf, but I shall explain for the benefit of your companions. The sword's name, is Dumdrengi, which roughly translates as 'Demon's Bane'," he states simply.
"I suggest you also... imprint upon it, if you wish to take advantage of its power."
Bründir can scarcely believe it when the blade flares. As the lights fade, the flames still burn in the dwarf's eyes. Wordlessly taking it back, the thought of the offered pearl is far in the recesses of his mind, "Knew ye were special." He mumbles, "Thanks..." He stands dumbfounded, as though more was needed, but couldn't be found.
As he cradles his newfound love, bare blade nestled so gingerly in his arms, Bründir gets an odd sensation and pats his pockets, "What in my...oh yeah! Oi, sir! A few more things if ye don' mind. I get it's late, so if ye wanna hold till mornin' that's fine too." He counts on his thick fingers, "Got a ring 'ere, an' someone had a cloak an' fancy-looking necklace. Vark, ye still got those scrolls? Bit embarassin', t'say the least. If ye want help, I can try the trick my ma taught me too."
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Peldirion groans as Bründir starts pulling trinkets out of his pockets.
"Mr... Bründir was it? Please, take this," and he presses the pearl into the dwarf's hand. "If you have one hundred gold to spare, you can keep it and I'll be on my way. I expect you're quite capable of taking care of the rest of this yourself."
Once he's collected a pleasantly weight coin pouch from Bründir, Peldirion bids the party farewell and heads home, leaving them standing in the great hall with a long journey ahead of them. The hour grows late.
Thurston will lead the way towards the inn if the others are ready to go to rest after all this events. He wakes early though, and pray to Thor in the clear morning to give him strength to junt and defeat those creatures so he can fulfill his command and stop the demonic infestation among these people.
Once again Dorno looks up at 'The Lady' in awe and his ears wiggle as he receives his Mask of the Beast. "Ooh, thank you Lady. Dorno likes the animals. He understands the animals and they don't scare him like the men and the monsters do. Animals do what they do. Even the tiger and the wolf are not bad, just hungry or scared. Dorno will talk to them more now. Thank you Lady!" Once he has the mask Dorno puts it on over his large firbolg face and giggles a tiny bit. He does not take it off for a long while.
As Brundir's sword ignites and all other lights go out, Dorno just lets out a long "ooooooooh", muffled by the fact that he is wearing his mask. When they then become engulfed in darkness Dorno says "don't be scared, friends, the Lady and more friends are here." "Nothing bad will happen with the nice elf lady and man here."
In the dream Vark's arm moves forwards by itself, as though he has no control over it. He takes the cloaked figure by the hand.
At first it is cold and clammy, but then a warm breeze washes across the fields carrying the mist off with it. Rays of sunlight roll over the horizon and the snow melts to reveal golden fields of wheat. In the distance ahead of him he can see thick forest and mountains beyond. To his right the cornfields stretch away into the sun.
The cloak falls away and the hand holding Vark's is warm and strong with fingers thick as carrots. Before him stands a tall, smiling man with light brown hair, a well-kept beard and a golden crown upon his brow. He is dressed in the finery of royalty and nods down at Vark in gratitude. Reaching forwards with his other hand, he places it atop Vark's head and presses his thumb into the front.
In his bed back in the Silver Tower Vark's eyes snap open, they are filled with black smoke that dissipates moments later. A second passes and he is asleep once more. A peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Vark awakes, yawning and stretching after the much needed rest. He seems to be in a very pleasant mood, and he'll smile at any of his companions who happen to be awake. Then he'll find a quiet spot on a thick branch to have a moment to himself. Once settled, his hand slips into his shirt and grasps the small gem hidden there. With his other hand, he'll press a finger to his forehead, the same spot that the mysterious king touched in his dream. Over the next minute, a fine mist begins to gather around him like a cloud. Then with a sudden breeze, it whooshes away, leaving Vark sitting with his eyes closed and a look of peace on his face. Eventually he'll find his way back to the Silver Tower, ready to embark on their next mission.
As the party breakfast, Angoldor arrives at the Silver Tower in search of them.
"Good morning," he begins, nodding to all present.
"I have news from his lordship regarding the events of the night. After your departure, those tainted by Nodron's curse were isolated in the guardhouse cells. A few hours after being bitten by Nodron, the wounded also succumbed to the demon plague. Completely feral, but not undead. They remain in holding, behind bars where they cannot do any further harm, in the hope that they can still be saved."
He looks at around at those present, pausing to let the weight of this news sink in.
"Those who were not bitten still bear traces of the taint, but are as yet still themselves. We hope they still have some time before this plague takes them."
"We are more than ready and we will not delay in our quest. " he stands, grabing the rest of his breakfast to carry and ends his drink in one, large sip. " Do we have the vials to transport the blood? Fine fine. Let's go my friends! Time is of the essence!!"
When he walks at Angoldor's side he puts a big hand in his shoulder.
" I know I am a stranger here, but I share your concern for your people as if they were mine. I will do whatever is in my hand to help you. Rest assured my friend! Thor is by our side! No beast can resist his might!!"
and he walks away from the Silver Spire singing a nordskan march song with his breakfast in his other hand.
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PbP Character: A few ;)
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The lady smiles at Jex as he enters and passes him the cloak. Its colours swirls to match those around it.
"This is a Cloak of Elvenkind. You have likely heard of them. It will keep you hidden from prying eyes."
She nods graciously to all in response to the thanks and departs with Lord Keltin, leaving Peldirion to answer any further questions.
"You shall have glass flasks," he assures Thurston. "Much less contamination than leather. I'll arrange for a crate of them to be brought by your lodgings."
He then takes a brief look at Vark's silver raven, to confirm that it is indeed magical, before fumbling in his pouch for a small pearl and an owl feather that he uses in a short ritual to ascertain the exact nature of the enchantment.
"Ah!" He exclaims a minute later. "I should have recognised it immediately. This is a Figurine of Wondrous Power!"
He takes a couple of minutes to explain to Vark exactly how to use the item.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Jex grins broadly, his gratitude for the gift is something he cannot contain.
"My sincerest thanks m'lady."
He puts it on immediately, watching the colours change to match the wall seeing the patterns alter and trying to match his movements to the magical shifts, it would take a little getting used to.
"Where are we going? What do we need vials for?" He takes a moment to look up from his gift, worried he has missed something important.
After a few moments of deliberation, Valaith profusely thanks the Lady for the gift of the armor and gingerly takes it within her massive hands. "This is the nicest thing I have ever had..." She whispers to no one in particular as she inspects the breastplate. She glances over as the elves begin to identify a magical item for Vark and makes a mental note to approach them about the oddities with her hammer, but first... She steps over to Jex to answer his question. "They need basilisk blood for a cure for the people infected with...whatever this is." She gestures vaguely towards the Great Hall. "So we are going hunting." She says with a large grin as she claps Jex on the back.
Once Peldirion has completed with Vark's raven, Val walks over with her hammer out. "If I might, good elf? Could you look over my hammer? While we were dealing with those bandits and their demon cultists, I noticed several times during our fights that my hammer was... sparking? Sometimes after I would deal a killing blow, there would be these black sparks that would shoot up my weapon. I was wondering if you could tell me what might be happening?"
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
Peldirion holds out his hands for Valaith to pass him the huge maul, and they sag significantly as he takes the weight. He lets out a breath of exertion and hefts the weapon to inspect it, before laying it upon the ground and beginning his ritual. A circle of elven sigils flashes on the floorboards around the item as the elf hold out his hand, probing for a magical response, and he frowns in concentration. Then the spell ends.
"An -ahem- a most peculiar hammer," Peldirion begins hesitantly, indicating to the goliath that she may pick it back up. "The magical aura is necromantic in nature... but it's more than that. The weapon is infused with a demonic energy that has been bound to it somehow. The arcane matrix is unstable - in flux even."
The elf grows increasingly excited as he explains arcane theory, before cutting himself short as he realises he is beginning to babble.
"Whatever this hammer is right now, it is not what it will become, and unknown magical artefacts can be dangerous. Be careful with it. For now, it should be able to restore your energy in battle, by draining that of the foes you fell. However, you will need to bond with the weapon to properly take advantage of its power."
(OOC: Valaith's maul has the same effect as the Blood Spear whenever she deals wound damage.)
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Jex raises an eyebrow at the idea of Basilisk blood, but says nothing.
If that is what it takes.
"Perhaps we should get some rest then? A journey is easier when started fresh."
At the mention of the terrible prey, Bründir nods sagely, "Ah yeah, basilisks. Bastard, inbred cousins of kobolds an' their mounts. Say the spit'll turn ye to stone, but th' claws'll make ye go crazy. Also heard scales make fine seat leather an' parts of'em will keep ye..." He grabs his breeches just under his belt, but stops himself short considering the company present, "They got all kinds o' uses, I hear..."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Valaith picks up her hammer gingerly and inspects it before giving the elf a look that clearly indicates she has no idea what he's saying until he breaks it down into more layman's terms for her. She nods absently at the further explanation as she looks at her hammer warily. "Demonic energy? Is this... cursed or something? Do I need to worry about it draining my life?" She appears very disconcerted about this explanation of her hammer. "If I bond with it like you say, would that give me more control over this influence?"
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
"No," Peldirion states firmly. "This weapon does not possess any curse that would harm its wielder. It simply acts as a... channel, funnelling energy to you. To properly do that, it must know you. My only caveat is that this power is unstable. It may well grow over time and I cannot tell you what it will grow into."
He glances about at the rest of the group.
"...was there anything else?"
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Valaith nods and blinks as she stares dubiously at the weapon. "Thank you. I will seek you out again should it start becoming something... different." She starts to turn away, but thinks of another question suddenly. "How do I bond with it?" She then listens intently to the elf's description of attuning to the weapon.
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
"Stories go that master fighters swung a sword like part of their arm. Maybe just keep swingin' it?" Bründir's hypothesis was punctuated with a shrug, then a jump as he remembered his sword. "'Spose ye already know about it, but my ol' heirloom 'ere was glowin' 'round those people. Any way ye could give it a look-see?" He carefully flips the blade to present it pommel-first.
"While we're talkin' about it, me mum taught me th'same trick ye're doin' with that pearl. Said she learned it from some two-copper wandering merchant that didn't wanna get swindled. I was on my way to Ms. Dorothy to see if she had one for sale when the ruckus started. I'll pay, wherever they are, 'cause I don' wanna be indebted to anybody. Actually," he nudged Jex's leg, "We got ourselves a whole wagon o' goods from th' damned rats' nest we cleared out. I don' suppose yer guards could use some extra padding or pokers?"
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"I'm afraid you'll have to see Gadron or Damdor about that," Peldirion replies, as he carefully takes the blade and looks it up and down.
"I can, however, sell you this pearl when I'm done. I have more at my laboratory."
He inspects the sword for a moment, weighing it in his hands.
"Dwarven craft, although they don't forge in this style anymore. Rare for your people to craft a long blade."
The elf squints at the rune that has revealed itself on the hilt, then holds the weapon out in front of him, blade up and both hands clasped around the grip.
"MAKAZ A DAL! OR RINK EK!" Peldirion intones loudly in Dwarvish and the sword flares to life, its blade shrouded in gold and blue flame. All other lights in the room are immediately extinguished and an entire string of runes is illuminated along its length.
"Weapon of old! I command you!"
DUMDRENGI HAND OF ERIK CHOSEN OF GRUMBAR
The flames are gone as quickly as they appeared and the room is left in darkness. Peldirion breathes deeply.
"Well, that was rather more dramatic than expected," he begins with a weak smile.
"I think that was rather self explanatory, master Dwarf, but I shall explain for the benefit of your companions. The sword's name, is Dumdrengi, which roughly translates as 'Demon's Bane'," he states simply.
"I suggest you also... imprint upon it, if you wish to take advantage of its power."
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Bründir can scarcely believe it when the blade flares. As the lights fade, the flames still burn in the dwarf's eyes. Wordlessly taking it back, the thought of the offered pearl is far in the recesses of his mind, "Knew ye were special." He mumbles, "Thanks..." He stands dumbfounded, as though more was needed, but couldn't be found.
As he cradles his newfound love, bare blade nestled so gingerly in his arms, Bründir gets an odd sensation and pats his pockets, "What in my...oh yeah! Oi, sir! A few more things if ye don' mind. I get it's late, so if ye wanna hold till mornin' that's fine too." He counts on his thick fingers, "Got a ring 'ere, an' someone had a cloak an' fancy-looking necklace. Vark, ye still got those scrolls? Bit embarassin', t'say the least. If ye want help, I can try the trick my ma taught me too."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Peldirion groans as Bründir starts pulling trinkets out of his pockets.
"Mr... Bründir was it? Please, take this," and he presses the pearl into the dwarf's hand. "If you have one hundred gold to spare, you can keep it and I'll be on my way. I expect you're quite capable of taking care of the rest of this yourself."
Once he's collected a pleasantly weight coin pouch from Bründir, Peldirion bids the party farewell and heads home, leaving them standing in the great hall with a long journey ahead of them. The hour grows late.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Thurston will lead the way towards the inn if the others are ready to go to rest after all this events. He wakes early though, and pray to Thor in the clear morning to give him strength to junt and defeat those creatures so he can fulfill his command and stop the demonic infestation among these people.
PbP Character: A few ;)
That night, dreams take Vark.
He trudges through snow laden fields. The sky is dark and the air around him is heavy with mist.
He looks up and sees the silhouette of a tall, slim figure in the darkness ahead of him. He wears a long, hooded cloak and walks with a staff.
Two deer prance forward out of the mist, dancing circles around Vark before leaping off into the night.
Shrouded in his black cloak, the figure steps forward and reaches out towards the half-orc with an aged, almost skeletal hand.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Once again Dorno looks up at 'The Lady' in awe and his ears wiggle as he receives his Mask of the Beast. "Ooh, thank you Lady. Dorno likes the animals. He understands the animals and they don't scare him like the men and the monsters do. Animals do what they do. Even the tiger and the wolf are not bad, just hungry or scared. Dorno will talk to them more now. Thank you Lady!" Once he has the mask Dorno puts it on over his large firbolg face and giggles a tiny bit. He does not take it off for a long while.
As Brundir's sword ignites and all other lights go out, Dorno just lets out a long "ooooooooh", muffled by the fact that he is wearing his mask. When they then become engulfed in darkness Dorno says "don't be scared, friends, the Lady and more friends are here." "Nothing bad will happen with the nice elf lady and man here."
In the dream Vark's arm moves forwards by itself, as though he has no control over it. He takes the cloaked figure by the hand.
At first it is cold and clammy, but then a warm breeze washes across the fields carrying the mist off with it. Rays of sunlight roll over the horizon and the snow melts to reveal golden fields of wheat. In the distance ahead of him he can see thick forest and mountains beyond. To his right the cornfields stretch away into the sun.
The cloak falls away and the hand holding Vark's is warm and strong with fingers thick as carrots. Before him stands a tall, smiling man with light brown hair, a well-kept beard and a golden crown upon his brow. He is dressed in the finery of royalty and nods down at Vark in gratitude. Reaching forwards with his other hand, he places it atop Vark's head and presses his thumb into the front.
In his bed back in the Silver Tower Vark's eyes snap open, they are filled with black smoke that dissipates moments later. A second passes and he is asleep once more. A peaceful, dreamless sleep.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Vark awakes, yawning and stretching after the much needed rest. He seems to be in a very pleasant mood, and he'll smile at any of his companions who happen to be awake. Then he'll find a quiet spot on a thick branch to have a moment to himself. Once settled, his hand slips into his shirt and grasps the small gem hidden there. With his other hand, he'll press a finger to his forehead, the same spot that the mysterious king touched in his dream. Over the next minute, a fine mist begins to gather around him like a cloud. Then with a sudden breeze, it whooshes away, leaving Vark sitting with his eyes closed and a look of peace on his face. Eventually he'll find his way back to the Silver Tower, ready to embark on their next mission.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
As the party breakfast, Angoldor arrives at the Silver Tower in search of them.
"Good morning," he begins, nodding to all present.
"I have news from his lordship regarding the events of the night. After your departure, those tainted by Nodron's curse were isolated in the guardhouse cells. A few hours after being bitten by Nodron, the wounded also succumbed to the demon plague. Completely feral, but not undead. They remain in holding, behind bars where they cannot do any further harm, in the hope that they can still be saved."
He looks at around at those present, pausing to let the weight of this news sink in.
"Those who were not bitten still bear traces of the taint, but are as yet still themselves. We hope they still have some time before this plague takes them."
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Thurston swallows and says
"We are more than ready and we will not delay in our quest. " he stands, grabing the rest of his breakfast to carry and ends his drink in one, large sip. " Do we have the vials to transport the blood? Fine fine. Let's go my friends! Time is of the essence!!"
When he walks at Angoldor's side he puts a big hand in his shoulder.
" I know I am a stranger here, but I share your concern for your people as if they were mine. I will do whatever is in my hand to help you. Rest assured my friend! Thor is by our side! No beast can resist his might!!"
and he walks away from the Silver Spire singing a nordskan march song with his breakfast in his other hand.
PbP Character: A few ;)