Adathar takes another sip of wine and closes his eyes for a moment, relishing the questions - both spoken and unspoken - that flit about the room.  "Yes," he says, looking at Daemyar, "You all have a role to play and the skins we wear are nothing but gossamer threads that cover our true forms.  I can see all of you as you are now, but the threads of possibility stretch out infinitely - some are added or erased based on what you do.  I am told that this kind of information is not easy to take for mortals so I tread carefully.

"Ithelion, it is difficult to explain but let me try.  I see your outward dress - skin, clothing, scales - but this simply covers glowing energies underneath.  These energies are as old as anything in the multiverse and normally the glow is static and contained.  But some individuals possess - a leak?  a fissue? - where these energies can come out and act and be used to shape reality.  You call this potential or opportunity - it is the ability to change and alter threads.  The ripple is a blurring of those lines of possibility and it is stronger in those with purpose, those such as yourself.  A ripple might denote greatness - or its opposite..."  Adathar's face darkens at Ithelion's final query. "Mmm, yes.  I cannot directly enter in this particular problem - something denies this to me.  This - fog, I think your word is - is dark and corrupted and stands out like a beacon on a dark night to me, and it is spreading.  This is why I brought you here."

Ithelion nods, "So...we don't have any relation to the cause of this problem, that is a relief. But we may be suited to solving it. I...", she falters briefly, trying to focus her thoughts in the presence of such a daunting being. She looks back down at her hands in which she holds the pin she received from Adathar, and frowns, "I...I imagine that you will provide us with whatever information you may have about this corruption, but will you be able to provide any more direct assistance, should we need it?"

"Are these woods repairable?" Lorell asks "It would be a disappointment to not try and help out nature."

Garnet shifted, took a step forward and crossed her arms over her chest. The others were asking great questions, Iithion about what assistance could be untilized and the other elf about repairing any damage that has already been done, exactly the things Garnet wanted to know herself. Except for one thing.

"What is it you are asking us to do, exactly?"Suddenly a little worried that came out as rude, she quickly added "Untill we know what that is I'm afraid our questions are based on assumptions."

Krom nods to Garnet agreeing with her question, "Aye, I think it would be wise to know what ye want us to do before we get lost in more questions." He fidgets with his amulet feeling a bit nervous on what the task might be.

Adathar nods his head in appreciation of the questions.  It had been a long time since he had talked of such things to the short-lived races of Faerun.

"The woods are yet redeemable: once the blight is cleared nature will restore itself over time."  Adathar looks to the dwarf.  "Directly spoken and well received.  Very well.  

"12 years ago, around Neverwinter, a rather incompetent druid named Belak began hearing voices in his head.  Yes, that's what I thought, 'don't we all?'  And that's all it was assumed to be.  The druids of his circle gave him his space and time to reflect and heal, but he was persistent in his assertions.  Over the years, he remained consistently devoted to the voice he called Gulthias.  He claimed it was a new god of some sort.  About 8 years ago, he went into Neverwinter Wood and never came back.  He was presumed dead.  Over these 8 years, stories of dark magics deforming the environment - the animals, the fauna, even the trees.  Stories of an ancient evil emanating from the bowels of a sunken citadel have become more common over the last two years - it seems Belak found something there, something hiding in the dark, something powerful and twisted  Something in the citadel itself does not permit me to enter.  Thus, I need assistance in this endeavour."  He pauses to let the 5 digest what he has said.  "You might wonder why I mention Neverwinter at all, a city so far away from you now, so distant.  It is to this area you must go.  I have a way of getting you close, should you choose to accept it.

"I can sense a thirst and a drive from each of you - for restoration of loved ones, for knowledge, for belonging, of duty, of redemption.  For most the possibility of attaining these things remain a dream, a possibility sucked in by the impossibility of circumstances.  But for you, in this specific situation, I have seen it is possible for you.  Yet, potential, I'm afraid to inform you, has a shelf-life."  Looking to each adventurer in turn, he smiles.  "Now, you must decide whether to accept this task."

Ithelion sighs in relief, "For some reason I feared we would be going down that dreadful pit" she says, nodding her head toward the bar area. "The thought of travel is less worrying than the idea of fighting and dying for the entertainment of others."

"But...to answer your question: yes, I will go, yet the need to travel so far does highlight my earlier question: what assistance will you be able to provide, while we are undertaking your tasks, and afterwards...although i admit, that is a detail."

She glances at Garnet, smiles, then turns back to Adathar, and continues, "If you know more of this citadel, it could be valuable to our efforts. But if not, perhaps it would be better if you tell us what you know of the surrounding area."

Lorell lets out a sigh of relief hearing that the forest will have a chance to heal. However, a druid that has fallen to whispers.... that is troubling. 

Krom thinks on the words Adathar said, his brow furrowing in thought and debate, after a few moments he says, "Aye, if there be an opportunity to heal both fer my sake and others, I'll take up the offer."

Lorell shifts neverously at the prospect of travel "Adathar, if I may ask how far away is Neverwinter and when would you suggest we disembark." Lorell asks. 

Daemyar gives the others a flat look. “All these questions. He has shown us the path. Ours is now to find glory ourselves. We must navigate the winding path. And while there are many ways to reach the end, the final victory only ever has one true method: rip and tear until it is done.”

Ithelion snorts, "Yes, I've found that very effective with books also. Though one learns somewhat less. It is precisely how one reaches the end of the path that defines us. The end is just a new beginning, or so I am often told, and so far it has proven to be true -- even just with our arrival here today,"

 The solar looks at Ithelion sadly before a wide grin paints his face.  "Neverwinter is perhaps a tenday away or more...but....there is a faster way.  After all, they wouldn't call me 'The Wanderer' without some tricks up my sleeve."  He sips some more wine before staring deeply into your eyes, watching your reactions.  "I will give you this boon.  Unfortunately, as in all things, it presents some risk. At the bottom of the well," he gestures to the open hole some 20 feet away, "the walls are decorated with the shields of fallen warriors - some old, some not so old.  There is one in particular - a red shield marked with a black and white tree, twined around each other.  While wearing the pins I gave you, you will need to touch this shield and it will whisk you away to a crossroads."  Adathar snaps his fingers and a map appears.  

 "You will need to go to the town of Oakhurst.  From there, you will need to follow the Old Road into the wood, following it until you meet the Pillars of Woe.  You'll know it when you see it.  Below these pillars is a once-proud, sunken temple from and earlier era.  It has been called 'The Sunless Citadel'.  To your east is a town called Thundertree, to the west, Neverwinter.  It is to the north you should cast your eyes, as it is in Oakhurst that you will need to move towards.  You may find more information about the ruins in that town."

Glancing towards Daemyar, the solar smiles at the hobgoblin but seems to look through him, "Yes, at times violence will be necessary yet at other times, you might consider a lighter touch.  After all, giving in to the expectations and assumptions of others is the easy path.  Redemption, even vengeance, requires something...more profound.  These are things you will discover - and decide upon - for yourselves.

"You may decide when the best time for you to leave is.  As I mentioned before, this situation is rare in that I am more involved than I normally am.  Thus, in only the most dire of circumstances will your plight be known to me.  Even then, the aid I can give is unknown since I am blocked from the citadel environs.  It would be fatal for me to physically intervene...I...have seen such things."  The chill and shiver in his voice juxtapose strangely with his strong presence.  "Belak has found something terrible, or stirred up something that should have remained sleeping in the bowels of the citadel..."  Again, his eyes grow distant.  "Oh yes, here you are good dwarf.  Choose to do with these as you like."  A set of bracers fall out from out of nowhere onto the table.  They are hollow with an intricate gold pattern.  Krom - you gather these are the bracers Durnan was talking about earlier.

"Now, before I leave you is there anything else?  If you want to leave now, I will help you down the well.  If not, you should wait for Durnan in the morning."

[[ ooc: What's with the numbers... ? ]]

"It is a difficult choice: safe passage into the pit, only to arrive in an unfamiliar wilderness in the middle of the night...or survive the pit, but arrive in daylight after a nights rest. I can see no clear answer, and will abide by whatever the group decides. But...I do have other questions."

"Will we also be able to return the same way, or must we make our own way? And...and I know this is perhaps presumptuous...but is there a ways that we can contact you, should we need to?"

"Perhaps you misunderstand me, I apologize.  Once you step on the hoist to go below, you will write your own fates.  I have only given you the way, the rest you must do yourselves."  Unfazed by the wizard's questions, even nodding as he speaks, Adathar adds, "The portal will work one way.  After this quest, should you decide to return to Waterdeep or continue to follow the threads of your own stories - well, that is a matter for you to decide," again a grin, this one more rictus than normal, "assuming you are still alive.  I will know when you are again within my domain, and I will know if you are able to clear the rot...or not."

 "I will be watching your progress but as I mentioned earlier, I am limited by a certain darkness from being there.  You will lose contact with me around the town of Oakhurst, for that is where the fog begins.  I am afraid that you must do what all adventurers do: stare down what lies before you and take the opportunity in your own hands."

 Ithelion bows her head in thought. After a time she says, "Then perhaps the morning would be best." [[ Though if someone else offfers a persuasive argument while she is thinking she might say otherwise ;-) ]]

Daemyar looks at the map.

”The Portal doesn’t look like its any closer to our goal than just walking out of the city. Especially with the added chance of getting lost.”

 History: 6

Krom comes out of his thoughts and takes the bracers saying, "It sounds more like we are goin' to teleport by touchin' that shield while we wear this here pin. So would ye all like to sleep on the road or at an inn?" Krom looks at Adathar, "How did ye know I was goin' to ask about these things? I could've never mentioned them."

History: 12 on the pins

History Roll 9

"Inn or road it makes no difference to me" Lorell says.