Lyreis has walked over during Kyne's tale regarding the elven sorcerer's past. "The Valenar would be proud to have someone with the courage to fight for our people in their warbands, if I ever return home I will laud your name so that they might know a champion of the wood elves. Unless of course you walk by my side, in which case I will simply let you tell your own story." Lyreis pauses "I say this as if I intend to return, I do not know that I do. My own star, once bright amongst my people, has fallen lower recently. I can make no claims as bold as yours, merely that I have not agreed on the path my people now seek to carve out. I believe in battle and glory as deeply as any other but I felt the goading of other lesser nations beneath us. So I have walked away for a time. I hope the land will remember me when I return and that my warband will herald my arrival but I do not need it now, I will make my own way."
Looking at the sorcerer he adds quietly in elven "Do you think they will come for you my friend, in my land blades are not left to return forged stronger and keener than before? If so, I will stand at your side."
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Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Kyne nods graciously to Lyreis and answers in kind.
"I doubt it. Not yet anyway. For now they have greater concerns than a distant exile, and even if they should come for me, I have dealt with assassins before. Still, thank you."
"In truth," he continues in common, for Mathilda's benefit, "I did not leave Elentári immediately. I had unfinished business to assure not only my own safety, but also that of my fellow conspirators. Gods willing, Gathodel's loyalist faction my never recover."
Mathilda's eyes dart between the three adventurers. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and then self-consciously tucks her hand under her leg. "So you're all kinda like... nobility?" She sits up a little straighter.
"I was born the son of a simple woodsman and a healer, if that makes you feel any better," he reassures Mathilda with a dismissive laugh.
"My parents named me Kyne Nauraethor Arodir, and although it is true that my father was of the Thandúil bloodline, I did not discover this until I met my cousin Lord Turin who backed our people's fight during the rebellion."
He fishes a metal flask from a pocket and takes a gulp.
"In truth, my father is but a half-blood. The illegitimate bastard of Wood Elf Lord. My 'noble blood' is thinner still, and my title more honourary than anything else. It does help open some doors though..."
The sorcerer reaches out and grasps a plume of flame from the embers of the hearth, rolling it across his fingers.
"...and my mother's blood has arguably played a far greater role in my life."
"I come from a good family, we are not nobility but my grandfather was a favourite of the court, few have ever wielded our weapons as well as he did, and he gained much honour as a teacher to the royal family and their friends. I believe his spirit lives on in this weapon, and I hope that he grants me his brilliance when I wield it, I truly have never seen a finer swordsman." Looking away he pauses before continuing "One day perhaps I may be spoken of in the same breath, but I can only hope for, not expect, such glory."
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Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Kyne goes up the stairs, leaving Moltaris alone in the cellar. The kalashtar takes a deep breath and lets it out heavily. "Bright Mother, give me strength for what must be done," she prays, then drags the limp, scorched and slashed body of Voren to a place where she can prop it up facing an empty corner of the room. She lights a small packet of incense and lays it on the floor in front of the corpse, then wafts the smoke over her face and hair and then over Voren's slack features. She sits cross-legged before the body, staring into its dead eyes, and murmurs a soft singsong line of Quori prayer. Once the Speak with Dead spell takes effect, she asks her first question. "Voren, what is your mistress' name?"
The smoke of the incense flows over the head and face of the deceased Voren and surrounds the body, lingering there. The smoke enters his nostrils and Moltaris sees how it enters the skull and fills the now lifeless eyes with a wispy, smoky mien. When it fills it, the face constricts and the mouth opens without a sound. It turns its head towards Moltaris when she asks her first question. The lips moves and a tired, raspy voice replies, "Altharys..."
Molly writes down the name on a piece of parchment - seeming for all the world to be taking dictation from an illiterate merchant or priest, and continues her line of questioning. "Voren, what did Lady Altharys offer you for your services?"
The corpse chuckles but is not a pleasant sound to hear. “Money... knowledge... power... lo..” In the middle of the last word, Voren chokes off his response with a bitter choking bark of laughter. He chortles to himself as if he had finally understood a bad joke.
Molly absorbs this bit of information, then responds, "What other duties did you do for Lady Altharys to earn such rewards?"
The voice comes again from the dead lips of the wizard's corpse. "I distilled the blood to make the drug... I took care of the thugs... I kept the Seer powers under control... "
Molly continues writing until Voren rasps out the word "blood." Then she looks up, staring for a long time into the hollow eyes of his corpse. "Whose blood did you distill!?" she blurts out almost without realizing.
"Hers..." is the hissing, sardonic response.
Molly nods unconsciously, as the response confirmed her suspicion, and frowns at the wasted question. Trust yourself, she thinks as she wrestles with how to shape the last question. "These fools I travel with do not understand the Lady's wisdom and power like you do. Where would I go to pledge my allegiance to her, Voren?"
The raspy voice chuckles, this time the lips doesn't move and the laughs seems to come all around Moltaris!
"Her Tower is in an island in the lake... southwest of here -- you cannot miss it. Beg for mercy. If you sacrifice the elves perhaps she will feel... SYMPATHETIC towards you..."
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
With a swirl, the smoke from the eyes vanishes and the lifeless head slumps, chin to chest, motionless. The silence in the room is deafening... spots begin to appear before Molly's eyes before she realizes that she has stopped breathing. With a gasp, she swallows air like a parched man drinks water.
She stands up and paces the room, trying to regain her composure. She scribbles some final notes down on the parchment, then kneels down and slings the rain-thin corpse of the dead wizard over her shoulder and makes her way out of the room and back up the glyphed stairs. She unceremoniously dumps the body next to the manacled prisoner and joins the rest of the group.
"Well, that was... horrible," she begins. Her face and demeanor are less controlled... more frenetic than you've seen her in the two days since the encounter with the mad owlbear.
She tosses the parchment to Kyne to read (she wrote down every she said and every word Voren said with no notes or guesses at interpretation) to the group. Once he reads it, she says, "So... I'm an idiot. I'm sorry I wasted the fourth question. Do you think the blood it spoke of belongs to Altharys or the seer?"
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Kyne finishes reading the list aloud to everyone and frowns at the mention of 'the seer'.
"The Red Dream was said to induce rage... that doesn't sound like something that comes from a seer. We still don't know what Lady Altharys is. Perhaps a vampire if this involves the blood of the undead?"
He pauses and chews on the last of his mallow as he contemplates what they might be dealing with.
"Still, not many share the gift of foresight and those that do are hard to contain. My mother had some capabilities in this regard, but nothing to merit such a title. I haven't seen a true seer in action in years."
Hurosk cocks his head to one side at Matilda's observation of his status. "Hmm... I am a member of one of the ruling clans of the Shadow Marshes. If that makes me some sort of nobility, then I guess so. But I've not seen any privileges from this. All in House Tharashk are judged on what they can provide for the clans and not their blood."
When the cleric returns from her ritual from below, the ranger sits quietly and listens to all that was discussed. Seeing the condition of Molly, he goes to the kitchen to make a plate of food for her. "Here. Looks like you may need to regain some strength."
He takes his seat near the hunter again. "See Resken, your friend here was more useful in death. Maybe we should just kill you too..?"He lets out a hearty laugh.
Mathilda tries to hide how intimidated she feels being surrounded by high borns. She eyes them with the gaze of someone who has only ever picked the pockets of rich people while being ignored by them - always the unremarkable commoner in the background. Never had any of them talked to her like she was an equal, they had always been on the other side. Hearing these adventurers talk so openly about their homes and families makes them seem much more ordinary to her. Just people, after all. Maybe not quite people like us, but still...
Moltaris resurfaces and unceremoniously dumps the body. Mathilda is jerked out of her thoughts and lets out a small shriek. She observes Moltaris, noticing how unsettled she seems. Thoroughly creeped out by the magic and necromancy, Mathilda finds it rather reassuring that Molatris appears not unruffled either. Slowly but surely, she is beginning to warm to the strange, dark cleric - the way you would warm to a huge elephant that has choosen not to trample you, of course. With a lot of respect and some careful safety distance. As Mathilda knows nothing of vampires and seers, she picks up the bag with the last dragonmallows in it and offers it to Moltaris with a shy smile.
"You have powerful command of your art Moltaris, this was of great use to us." Lyreis ponders the information quietly. "At least two courses appear before us, we sail for this island, and confront this mysterious and undoubtedly dangerous creature and any henchmen she has but possibly take them by surprise or we return to the town, make contact with the one who set us on this path and then return another time, the gold is inconsequential at this point but they may have more information, that could help us. The risk is the other thugs return find the rest of their group dead" he looks pointedly at Resken "and then we have potentially alerted them to our interest in them and give them time to prepare for our return."
Molly drops onto the ground, legs folded beneath her as she tries to pull herself together again. She returns Mathilda's smile when she brings the dragonmallows, and murmurs, "I owe you an apology. I should never have spoken into your mind without warning, without permission. Please forgive my intrusion." Her hand shakes a little and her skin is even paler than usual as she accepts the sweets.
She nods to Hurosk as the noble ranger goes out of his way to bring the plate of food, respect and appreciation clear on her face. "Thank you."
"If we go straightaway, remember that I have used the strongest of the powers I can access without a night's rest and meditation. I have my doubts, though, that the townsfolk -- even the Nose -- will share more information. There's no value to him in sending us out here without key information, so seems more likely that they are ignorant of this Altharys.
She falls into a musing silence, at which point one might realize that that's the most anyone has heard the kalashtar say at one time in the last two days.
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Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
"While I have also used a significant proportion of my power, I do think the element of surprise might be even more valuable. I would hate to waste it."
He stands, dusts himself off and walks over to the front of the house to look out at the water.
"How will we even get over there? I don't see a boat. Perhaps we should rest as best we can and wait for her servants to return? We could overpower them and take their boat!"
Molly drops onto the ground, legs folded beneath her as she tries to pull herself together again. She returns Mathilda's smile when she brings the dragonmallows, and murmurs, "I owe you an apology. I should never have spoken into your mind without warning, without permission. Please forgive my intrusion." Her hand shakes a little and her skin is even paler than usual as she accepts the sweets.
"That's alright. I just..." She shrugs, "I don't know much about magic." After listening to the two elves' plans, Mathilda chimes in: "I think waiting here and ambushing them if they return sounds like a good idea. I could take the first watch once night falls?" Eyeing the jewellery that Kyne took from the mage, she wonders how much it would sell for and if these quasi-noble travellers really need the money...
Resken tries to move away from the dead body of Voren and look at it with disgust.
"If you are planning in ambush them... They will not return until tomorrow. At least that was the plan. They went to meet our distributor in the docks and spent the night in the city. "he says.
"The half orc..." Kyne muses. "They won't find him. They have to return eventually and they aren't expecting a fight here. It seems like a good place to set an ambush."
Kyne leaves the window and sits back down by the fire to inspect Voren's ring and necklace.
(Identifying items while resting as per page 136 of the DMG. See discord/PM.)
Hurosk chuckles. "Yeah, that's going to be a problem. That one decided it was best to get out of town." The ranger peers out the window just as a precaution. "Do y'all have any neighbors around here that may have a boat?"
"There's another cottage half mile down the lake " he motions his hand in the direction " but I do not know for sure. I assume it though. Could you... could you please take him outside? or at least close his eyes? It's giving me the creeps" he says pointing to Voren's corpse.
"Aah, I get it!" Kyne announces suddenly with excitement, totally ignoring the wounded Resken. The ring was cool to the touch and strangely hydrophobic.
"It's a water walking enchantment!" He holds it up to the others, clearly pleased with himself. "That should be helpful, don't you think? I expect Voren just took a stroll over to the island whenever he needed to."
Mathilda seems troubled be the news. "Should we head for the other cottage then? If they come back here with reinforcements, that would not be so good, right? That ring might come in handy, you should hold onto it." Clearly, she is happy for someone else to hold on to the ring of the dead caster. She begins gathering her things and stashes any leftover dragonmallows for later. Looking up from her backpack, she nods at their prisoner and asks: "and... what about him?"
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Lyreis has walked over during Kyne's tale regarding the elven sorcerer's past. "The Valenar would be proud to have someone with the courage to fight for our people in their warbands, if I ever return home I will laud your name so that they might know a champion of the wood elves. Unless of course you walk by my side, in which case I will simply let you tell your own story." Lyreis pauses "I say this as if I intend to return, I do not know that I do. My own star, once bright amongst my people, has fallen lower recently. I can make no claims as bold as yours, merely that I have not agreed on the path my people now seek to carve out. I believe in battle and glory as deeply as any other but I felt the goading of other lesser nations beneath us. So I have walked away for a time. I hope the land will remember me when I return and that my warband will herald my arrival but I do not need it now, I will make my own way."
Looking at the sorcerer he adds quietly in elven "Do you think they will come for you my friend, in my land blades are not left to return forged stronger and keener than before? If so, I will stand at your side."
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Kyne nods graciously to Lyreis and answers in kind.
"I doubt it. Not yet anyway. For now they have greater concerns than a distant exile, and even if they should come for me, I have dealt with assassins before. Still, thank you."
"In truth," he continues in common, for Mathilda's benefit, "I did not leave Elentári immediately. I had unfinished business to assure not only my own safety, but also that of my fellow conspirators. Gods willing, Gathodel's loyalist faction my never recover."
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
Mathilda's eyes dart between the three adventurers. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and then self-consciously tucks her hand under her leg. "So you're all kinda like... nobility?" She sits up a little straighter.
Kyne chuckles.
"I was born the son of a simple woodsman and a healer, if that makes you feel any better," he reassures Mathilda with a dismissive laugh.
"My parents named me Kyne Nauraethor Arodir, and although it is true that my father was of the Thandúil bloodline, I did not discover this until I met my cousin Lord Turin who backed our people's fight during the rebellion."
He fishes a metal flask from a pocket and takes a gulp.
"In truth, my father is but a half-blood. The illegitimate bastard of Wood Elf Lord. My 'noble blood' is thinner still, and my title more honourary than anything else. It does help open some doors though..."
The sorcerer reaches out and grasps a plume of flame from the embers of the hearth, rolling it across his fingers.
"...and my mother's blood has arguably played a far greater role in my life."
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
"I come from a good family, we are not nobility but my grandfather was a favourite of the court, few have ever wielded our weapons as well as he did, and he gained much honour as a teacher to the royal family and their friends. I believe his spirit lives on in this weapon, and I hope that he grants me his brilliance when I wield it, I truly have never seen a finer swordsman." Looking away he pauses before continuing "One day perhaps I may be spoken of in the same breath, but I can only hope for, not expect, such glory."
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Kyne goes up the stairs, leaving Moltaris alone in the cellar. The kalashtar takes a deep breath and lets it out heavily. "Bright Mother, give me strength for what must be done," she prays, then drags the limp, scorched and slashed body of Voren to a place where she can prop it up facing an empty corner of the room. She lights a small packet of incense and lays it on the floor in front of the corpse, then wafts the smoke over her face and hair and then over Voren's slack features. She sits cross-legged before the body, staring into its dead eyes, and murmurs a soft singsong line of Quori prayer. Once the Speak with Dead spell takes effect, she asks her first question. "Voren, what is your mistress' name?"
The smoke of the incense flows over the head and face of the deceased Voren and surrounds the body, lingering there. The smoke enters his nostrils and Moltaris sees how it enters the skull and fills the now lifeless eyes with a wispy, smoky mien. When it fills it, the face constricts and the mouth opens without a sound. It turns its head towards Moltaris when she asks her first question. The lips moves and a tired, raspy voice replies, "Altharys..."
Molly writes down the name on a piece of parchment - seeming for all the world to be taking dictation from an illiterate merchant or priest, and continues her line of questioning. "Voren, what did Lady Altharys offer you for your services?"
The corpse chuckles but is not a pleasant sound to hear. “Money... knowledge... power... lo..” In the middle of the last word, Voren chokes off his response with a bitter choking bark of laughter. He chortles to himself as if he had finally understood a bad joke.
Molly absorbs this bit of information, then responds, "What other duties did you do for Lady Altharys to earn such rewards?"
The voice comes again from the dead lips of the wizard's corpse. "I distilled the blood to make the drug... I took care of the thugs... I kept the Seer powers under control... "
Molly continues writing until Voren rasps out the word "blood." Then she looks up, staring for a long time into the hollow eyes of his corpse. "Whose blood did you distill!?" she blurts out almost without realizing.
"Hers..." is the hissing, sardonic response.
Molly nods unconsciously, as the response confirmed her suspicion, and frowns at the wasted question. Trust yourself, she thinks as she wrestles with how to shape the last question. "These fools I travel with do not understand the Lady's wisdom and power like you do. Where would I go to pledge my allegiance to her, Voren?"
The raspy voice chuckles, this time the lips doesn't move and the laughs seems to come all around Moltaris!
"Her Tower is in an island in the lake... southwest of here -- you cannot miss it. Beg for mercy. If you sacrifice the elves perhaps she will feel... SYMPATHETIC towards you..."
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
With a swirl, the smoke from the eyes vanishes and the lifeless head slumps, chin to chest, motionless. The silence in the room is deafening... spots begin to appear before Molly's eyes before she realizes that she has stopped breathing. With a gasp, she swallows air like a parched man drinks water.
She stands up and paces the room, trying to regain her composure. She scribbles some final notes down on the parchment, then kneels down and slings the rain-thin corpse of the dead wizard over her shoulder and makes her way out of the room and back up the glyphed stairs. She unceremoniously dumps the body next to the manacled prisoner and joins the rest of the group.
"Well, that was... horrible," she begins. Her face and demeanor are less controlled... more frenetic than you've seen her in the two days since the encounter with the mad owlbear.
She tosses the parchment to Kyne to read (she wrote down every she said and every word Voren said with no notes or guesses at interpretation) to the group. Once he reads it, she says, "So... I'm an idiot. I'm sorry I wasted the fourth question. Do you think the blood it spoke of belongs to Altharys or the seer?"
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Kyne finishes reading the list aloud to everyone and frowns at the mention of 'the seer'.
"The Red Dream was said to induce rage... that doesn't sound like something that comes from a seer. We still don't know what Lady Altharys is. Perhaps a vampire if this involves the blood of the undead?"
He pauses and chews on the last of his mallow as he contemplates what they might be dealing with.
"Still, not many share the gift of foresight and those that do are hard to contain. My mother had some capabilities in this regard, but nothing to merit such a title. I haven't seen a true seer in action in years."
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
Hurosk cocks his head to one side at Matilda's observation of his status. "Hmm... I am a member of one of the ruling clans of the Shadow Marshes. If that makes me some sort of nobility, then I guess so. But I've not seen any privileges from this. All in House Tharashk are judged on what they can provide for the clans and not their blood."
When the cleric returns from her ritual from below, the ranger sits quietly and listens to all that was discussed. Seeing the condition of Molly, he goes to the kitchen to make a plate of food for her. "Here. Looks like you may need to regain some strength."
He takes his seat near the hunter again. "See Resken, your friend here was more useful in death. Maybe we should just kill you too..?" He lets out a hearty laugh.
Mathilda tries to hide how intimidated she feels being surrounded by high borns. She eyes them with the gaze of someone who has only ever picked the pockets of rich people while being ignored by them - always the unremarkable commoner in the background. Never had any of them talked to her like she was an equal, they had always been on the other side. Hearing these adventurers talk so openly about their homes and families makes them seem much more ordinary to her. Just people, after all. Maybe not quite people like us, but still...
Moltaris resurfaces and unceremoniously dumps the body. Mathilda is jerked out of her thoughts and lets out a small shriek. She observes Moltaris, noticing how unsettled she seems. Thoroughly creeped out by the magic and necromancy, Mathilda finds it rather reassuring that Molatris appears not unruffled either. Slowly but surely, she is beginning to warm to the strange, dark cleric - the way you would warm to a huge elephant that has choosen not to trample you, of course. With a lot of respect and some careful safety distance. As Mathilda knows nothing of vampires and seers, she picks up the bag with the last dragonmallows in it and offers it to Moltaris with a shy smile.
"You have powerful command of your art Moltaris, this was of great use to us." Lyreis ponders the information quietly. "At least two courses appear before us, we sail for this island, and confront this mysterious and undoubtedly dangerous creature and any henchmen she has but possibly take them by surprise or we return to the town, make contact with the one who set us on this path and then return another time, the gold is inconsequential at this point but they may have more information, that could help us. The risk is the other thugs return find the rest of their group dead" he looks pointedly at Resken "and then we have potentially alerted them to our interest in them and give them time to prepare for our return."
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Molly drops onto the ground, legs folded beneath her as she tries to pull herself together again. She returns Mathilda's smile when she brings the dragonmallows, and murmurs, "I owe you an apology. I should never have spoken into your mind without warning, without permission. Please forgive my intrusion." Her hand shakes a little and her skin is even paler than usual as she accepts the sweets.
She nods to Hurosk as the noble ranger goes out of his way to bring the plate of food, respect and appreciation clear on her face. "Thank you."
"If we go straightaway, remember that I have used the strongest of the powers I can access without a night's rest and meditation. I have my doubts, though, that the townsfolk -- even the Nose -- will share more information. There's no value to him in sending us out here without key information, so seems more likely that they are ignorant of this Altharys.
She falls into a musing silence, at which point one might realize that that's the most anyone has heard the kalashtar say at one time in the last two days.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Kyne hesitates.
"While I have also used a significant proportion of my power, I do think the element of surprise might be even more valuable. I would hate to waste it."
He stands, dusts himself off and walks over to the front of the house to look out at the water.
"How will we even get over there? I don't see a boat. Perhaps we should rest as best we can and wait for her servants to return? We could overpower them and take their boat!"
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
"That's alright. I just..." She shrugs, "I don't know much about magic." After listening to the two elves' plans, Mathilda chimes in: "I think waiting here and ambushing them if they return sounds like a good idea. I could take the first watch once night falls?" Eyeing the jewellery that Kyne took from the mage, she wonders how much it would sell for and if these quasi-noble travellers really need the money...
Resken tries to move away from the dead body of Voren and look at it with disgust.
"If you are planning in ambush them... They will not return until tomorrow. At least that was the plan. They went to meet our distributor in the docks and spent the night in the city. " he says.
PbP Character: A few ;)
"The half orc..." Kyne muses. "They won't find him. They have to return eventually and they aren't expecting a fight here. It seems like a good place to set an ambush."
Kyne leaves the window and sits back down by the fire to inspect Voren's ring and necklace.
(Identifying items while resting as per page 136 of the DMG. See discord/PM.)
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
Hurosk chuckles. "Yeah, that's going to be a problem. That one decided it was best to get out of town." The ranger peers out the window just as a precaution. "Do y'all have any neighbors around here that may have a boat?"
"There's another cottage half mile down the lake " he motions his hand in the direction " but I do not know for sure. I assume it though. Could you... could you please take him outside? or at least close his eyes? It's giving me the creeps" he says pointing to Voren's corpse.
PbP Character: A few ;)
"Aah, I get it!" Kyne announces suddenly with excitement, totally ignoring the wounded Resken. The ring was cool to the touch and strangely hydrophobic.
"It's a water walking enchantment!" He holds it up to the others, clearly pleased with himself. "That should be helpful, don't you think? I expect Voren just took a stroll over to the island whenever he needed to."
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
Mathilda seems troubled be the news. "Should we head for the other cottage then? If they come back here with reinforcements, that would not be so good, right? That ring might come in handy, you should hold onto it." Clearly, she is happy for someone else to hold on to the ring of the dead caster. She begins gathering her things and stashes any leftover dragonmallows for later. Looking up from her backpack, she nods at their prisoner and asks: "and... what about him?"