In the snowy northwest of Embera a perpetual winter settles on the Tumunzir Mountains and the traditional home of the dwarves and a clutch of ancient white dragons. Their presence effecting the very weather itself. The caverns beneath the snowy mountains was the former fortress of the dwarves on the cusp of the Underdark now abandoned since the Darkness. The dwarves, like most of the old ones, are struggling to adapt to an ever-changing world with their now finite lives in the Lightbringer’s Court. Ever since the Darkness brought terror to their kingdom affecting the longevity of all of the old ones the dwarves have moved to the surface of their mountains. In a hundred years they have built a large communal stone fortress that houses all eight remaining clans of dwarves the Firstforge leading them. The great society that once made up the vast dwarven kingdom is now dwindling. They have had to rebuild their culture literally from the ground up! Brought to the Light by their current king’s father, Malachite I, the fortress they now live was built on the surface and is the first of its kind. It is the most visible change to the landscape around Bhil Durahl. The dwarven throne now occupied by Malachite II and his queen Citrine. Their twins Onyx and Opal, the oldest of their children, have created reputations from themselves amongst their people as much as their parents. King Malachite II is a weak and superstitious. He professes to be a learned man but sees omens of doom in all things. Queen Citrine although from a lower house was raised up due to the circumstances of the Darkness. She is known as a kind woman with traditional dwarven values. Prince Onyx is a traditionalist like his mother and a true scholar while his fraternal twin sister Opal is a true believer of the Light and a warrior to her core.
Although the Firstforge clan publicly led a life ‘in the Light’ they are only the second of the Firstforge line to ascend the dwarven throne in the 100-year reign of high king Araylars Vahar. The dwarven kingdom, formerly oligarchy, lost entire generations of elder dwarves. All wiped out by the Darkness. The aftermath having completely changed their traditional government where elders sat on a council composed of each clan’s oldest and most distinguished members. This council then ran the kingdom of Bhil Durahl affecting the daily life of all dwarves. Now Malachite II runs the kingdom in the Light. But unlike his father before him installed by high king Vahar, Malachite II is a true believer and champion of the Lightbringer. He has slowly allowed the church to turn his kingdom into a theocracy masquerading as a monarch like some of the other six kingdoms the Lightbringer's Court. In truth, Malachite II is a weak man. He relies heavily upon guidance from the Chancellor of Light Hemmon Green, a half-elven paladin of the Lightbringer, and the chancellor seemingly is the voice of reason. He is a devout man that Malachite admires wishing to emulate but he has his own agenda too like much of the social clinging elite amongst the clergy. Meanwhile Queen Citrine has tried to influence her husband to keep dwarven traditions alive in plain sight along with a large collection of dwarves within the kingdom while only a hundred-year-old doctrine of the Lightbringer’s Court seems determined to stamp it out as heresy! In the wake of their deliverance for the Darkness who can turn away the Light? The new church has grown deeper roots having slowly gained control of most of the six racial kingdoms within their power. As users of the only effective divine magic that heals, possessing strong leadership, and heading a continuous crusades to keep the Darkness at bay they have many devout followers. The church of the Lightbringer having given the faithful a boon to heal as well as a foothold in Embera. The Lightbringer’s Court has restored order to the chaos that the Darkness wrought!
In the previous weeks Malachite II has been tense. Since the departure of Chancellor Green for Ospel, his most trusted advisors, the king seems at sea. The good chancellor had left Bhil Durahl for the Lightbringer’s Court long before the family was called for a grand tournament like none in this age had seen before! Meanwhile queen Citrine organizes the household to travel knowing it will take the family a week to get from Bhil Durahl to Ospel’s tournament. King Malachite II, like all leaders of the six kingdoms of faithful, worry over the ailing high king and is distracted from preparations for their journey. Rumors plague the six families invited to the tournament that high king Aralyras Vahar is near death and would name Jubel Baelfire his heir. Jubel Baelfire is well-known throughout the six kingdoms. He is the high king’s closest friend, the commander of the Emberain armies, and a light cleric of the Lightbringer! What is not as widely known about Jubel however is that he can command what is seen as heretical magic within the Lightbringer’s Court. The light cleric wields odd magic powers that often show in battle! Like Aralyras, who was Jubel’s teacher in the Light, Jubel commands the Light to heal and to harm like no one else in the clergy! Not even the head of the Lightbringer’s church, grand pontifex Vermillion Darlugdach, can explain Jubel’s powers or the boon the Lightbringer must have granted the man. Jubel has since been shielded from the church’s inquiries as well as judgment due to his protection from the high king himself. Jubel also has his elite group of knights amongst the army and his house, a rising in power amongst the humans in Zozobra, in his corner. All who pay attention to the politics Embera know the tournament is just a spectacle! The real excuse is to gather the six families of the faithful in hopes of creating a new system of government. The six families hope to nominate candidates for a new council set to govern them and superseded the high king’s wishes to appoint an heir. This new council will govern Embera with the church still claiming to only want to play a role as an adviser!
The day starts hectically…all the Firstforge household is hurrying to leave the fortress bundled against the wintery passage over the tundra that separates the fortress to the mountain pass of Tumunzir. The family and it's retainers will travel along the North Road heading towards Ospel for a week. Once they leave their own lands they will pass through the green fields and forests of Lahiri, the traditional lands of the halflings, and the breadbasket of Embera. They will then pass into the wildlands that separate Lahiri from Ospel the great city state on the coast! As the Firstforge family and their retinue gather on their horses and in their carts, king Malachite II seems extremely reluctant to leave the protection of the fortress lacking his councillor chancellor Green. The king on the mountain has always been a fretful man but now he seems more paranoid than ever!
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Kiran Hallowedsworn wanders up and down the lines of people scrambling to get everything ready, offering to help wherever he can, his own minimal belongings having been packed and ready before sunrise. The fact that nearly everyone politely declines his offer does not bother him, he’s slowly become used to the suspicion. His rather vague role within the church has left many of these poor old ones convinced he is there to destroy their old world to create a new one, the rumors sadden him, but he makes no effort to correct them. Once he’s made sure that at least the king’s immediate family is packed and ready, he admits defeat in his efforts to help, and retreats to his wagon set to be near the lead of the group, picking up a small block of wood along the way. Once there he sits on the driver’s bench and whittles away at it, wondering what his bored hands will create this time. While his hands and eyes are occupied, he carefully listens to his surroundings, curious to know more of these others he will be traveling with.
Ronegan Gallowglass stands in the library of the Firstforge keep, feeling more than a little sorry for himself. He pushes a wiry lock of thick brown hair out of his face and his hands go down to check the canister on his hip almost unconsciously. He could tell by the heft of the container that the book was there. Still it was reassuring to him to know that his life's work, written entirely in halfling in his neat, precise script was still at hand. He was not pleased at all to be leaving the fortress, and something about the king's reluctance to accompany the retinue gave the fat little halfling an even greater sense of foreboding.
Ronegan leaves the library and heads outside where the carts are being loaded and horses are being prepped. Pulling his coat closer to him, he steps to a cart near the front, but seeing that strange monk Hallowedsworn sitting at the reins, he stops short. He didn't trust Kiran, didn't trust any of those who had attached themselves to Malachite's household in the name of the Lightbringer. Instead, he begins to wander among the chaos, looking for those he knew to be more convivial company. Elavor, perhaps, or Varen. Ronegan most hoped though, he would see the twins, young Onyx and Opal. Despite their differences, the two of them represented the hope for the future of this kingdom. Ronegan wanted to make sure they were prepared for what was to come.
Ran Deadgleam steps out of the fortress into the cold air and takes in the chaos of the final preparations. He sighs and watches the condensed air from his mouth float upwards in the crisp morning. He pulls his cloak tighter and moves down the steps, looking at the faces of the king's guard and other retainers.
Damn Hemmon Green, he thinks to himself. At least with that preachy ponce of a chancellor present the king would be calm. But without him, Malachite is a mess. And everyone can see that. It's job one of good leader to remain calm no matter what doubts they have inside, and the king is failing miserably. The stress that is creating is even reaching the animals.
Ran arrives at his horse, removes a gauntlet and strokes her on the neck. "Easy girl," he whispers into the horse's ear to calm her. "We'll be going soon." He double checks that his gear and weapons are stowed properly and while still stroking the neck of the horse he returns to watching the rest of the preparations.
Someone needs to talk to Malachite. But with the chancellor gone, who will the king listen to. If Ran can find Opal, she might be able to talk some sense into her father. If not, he might have to take the risk and do it himself. He's spoken to the king numerous times as his emissary, but never to give advice. Given the dangers of the road ahead he will have to risk it if there's no other way. They can't hit that pass in the winter with a lack of leadership like this.
He spots Ronegan the halfling darting through the crowd, and then sees him stop short when he spots Kiran. He knew the halfling was smart. You have to be careful around these apostles of the Lightbringer. But he should have a word with Ronegan to make sure he isn't too obvious about it. They will have enough trouble on the road not to bring their own with them.
And that reminds him of something else he wants to bring up with Ronegan. But that will have to wait. Right now he needs to keep watch for Opal.
"This is going to be a long day," he says to the horse.
Petal sits cross legged in the yard, picking a small flower and poking it into the button hole of her shirt. The clothes the dwarves made her wear were scratchy and uncomfortable, not to mention ugly, so she tried to make them as nice as possible with flowers she found around the yard. If only they let her wear that lovely suit with all the fur and hide she traded for those nasty pieces of metal.
She bends down and kisses the ground, thanking the earth and finishing her ritual, before getting some sacks, and heading out to the chaos as the house loads up for for their journey. “Oh boy, out on a trip.” She says aloud. She didn’t really like it in the keep, with all these ugly stone buildings, and was itching to get on the road. She heads over to the cart, stopping by the horse to say hello. ”Hi sir horsey, thank you for taking us on this trip! Are you ok with all this luggage and me and the others riding in that cart? Is everyone treating you ok?” She notices Ran speaking to his horse too and approaches innocently “Hey, I didn’t know you could talk to horses, it IS gonna be a long day for him huh, carrying us all!”
Inside the stable, a young human woman finishes strapping a pair of saddlebags tightly to the heavy saddle atop a sable horse. The horse pokes his face at her waistline, and she gives a grin, proffering a carrot piece from her belt satchel. "Can't hide anything from you, Mouse." The carrot disappears quickly with a crunch. Next up goes a holster for a crossbow, placed so she would have quick access to the weapon if required. The woman double checks the last saddlebag, making sure the wooden case containing her toolkits is secure. She opens the stable door, leading Mouse calmly into the courtyard where the rest of the chaos unfolds.
Varen Delisse stands about 5'6", her shoulder-length auburn hair tied back into a loose braid. She wears dark brown leather, reinforced in vital places with steel bands to give more protection without compromising mobility, and has matching leather bracers and boots. Her clothing is appropriate for the trip to come - a heavy gray cloak trimmed with wolf fur around the hood and collar, a warm woolen shirt dyed hunter green, and black riding pants. She has a leather satchel on one side of her belt, the opposite holding the holster for a long, slim-bladed sabre. A bandolier across her chest holds a pair of throwing knives, and a small round shield is held by a leather strap across her back over the cloak. A fine silver chain necklace disappears into the folds of her shirt, behind the leather chestpiece.
Varen scans the crowd with her green eyes, spotting Petal and Ran up near the front of the procession, as well as Kiran on the cart itself. The captain wanted her to provide escort to the front section of the convoy, so she begins to walk Mouse in that direction. As she does so, she passes by Ronegan.
"Hello, Ronegan. Are you excited to set off? It's a beautiful day to travel. The air's crisp today... quite refreshing, a big change from the library!"She speaks with a chipper voice, her accent with a touch of nobility to it, though her demeanor is quite down-to-earth.
When I think of her voice, it's similar to the female human of Guild Wars 2. GW2 Human Noble.
The din from outside is what wakes Elavor... then the searing light from outside. Well, searing might be an overstatement. In his groggy, half hungover, delirious state; Elavor could swear the sun itself was burning his retinas through his closed eyelids... "Mmmmph... dammit. That light!! What ungodly hour is it?!" Elavor stumbles to get up from his bed. The traveling clothes, pack, and gear that he laid out the night before- during a rare moment of buzzed clarity - present him with a puzzle. Why on earth did he lay them all out... He returned from that southern mapping mission nearly two weeks ago and wasn't due to leave the fortress until the Tourna---
"Oh shit... shit, shit, shit..." Elavor says as he struggles to get into his clothes, realization of what day it was dawning on him in an instant. Hurrying to fasten his wood-handled rapier at his side, he quickly tucks the twin, black metal daggers behind him in their holsters, slings his pack on his back, grabs the short bow and his shoulder pack, and rushes out the door. Quickly muttering under his breath, he barely has time to rustle his fingers through his short brown hair when he rounds the corner and sees most of the stables empty or emptying. He notices a young lady leading her horse out of the stables.... what was her name again? Vareth? Varen? Varen. That's it... Maybe if he's quick enough he can catch up to her and the cart where he saw the familiar and friendly face of Ronegan.
If he's lucky.
Quickly, deftly, and quietly he attempts to sneak to his gray mare, Dust, without anyone noticing his tardiness (Or disheveled appearance). This was definitely NOT the morning to sleep in. As long as he doesn't gain the wrath of any of the higher-ups... Dust quietly side-eyes him as he loads the pack, and gear. Whispering, he says: "What now girl? Look, I told you I'd be here first thing, right? Well, look, there was an extra bottle of mead no one was going to drink, soooo.." Elavor swings his legs over and gives a slight nudge with his heel... "Let's get up there, Dust. Nice n easy.." And the duo leave the stables, the crisp wintry air clearing whatever remained of the fog caused by the mead from the night before. Slowly they make their way to where they saw Ronegan and Varen heading.. .
Queen Citrine looks over her retinue critically and then clears her throat. Standing taller than most female dwarves Citrine has a dusky complexion, bright gray eyes, and a beautiful face while showing age still holds the admiration of all who know her. Their affection is merited for Citrine is proud, handsome, and clever. She is the only reason the new church doesn't sit on the dwarven throne already and all know while she abides the Lightbringer following its teachings her roots are much deeper still. Citrine wears plum-colored traveling robes of the finest quality and a circlet dotted with rough-cut emeralds set in silver. Her hair is black hair is elaborately braided and adorned reaches her waist.
"This will be a long journey," the queen begins her tone even and her expression unreadable. "We've had reports there are bandits in the high country beyond the mountains. The Marshfield's lands have always been lousy with outlaws for we all know halflings focus more on growing food and brewing ale then eating food and drinking ale than law and order," she jibs gaining laughter from the predominately human, gnomish, and dwarven household. "But by the Light we should reach Ospel in a week without incident," she adds her eyes wandering over the party before settling on her children, the oldest Onyx and Opal who arrive just after Elavor as if their tardiness is being marked before she continues to speak. "This tournament is a time to prove ourselves worthy of our gifts in the Light. But also to prove that although our halls are no longer underground and our people are no longer as ancient as the mountains that we are house Firstforge and our fire still burns brightest in the Darkness," she adds resolutely! "Now my husband will speak...." the queen says gesturing to her side where Malachite II now stands in plum-colored robes matching the queen wearing a small crown of silver and emeralds too on his bald head. He then strokes his beard, a black and silver mass of groomed hair that hangs to his waist and is adorned with all manner of trinkets, as Citrine steps back.
"True the road is dangerous but truer still we are all bathed in the Light and it shall protect us," king Malachite II calls out his voice not as commanding as his wife's but still resonant. "I ask you to be mindful of who you speak to as well as what you do on the road. While we will surely meet other travelers enemies hide in plain sight and often come baring goodwill at first glance," he adds cryptically as usual before giving a curt nod. "Let us get on our way," he then says motioning with his hand in a circle overhead before leaving the stairs for the waiting carriages as the party and retinue behind to move.
The queen just looks over the party and the retinue while Malachite speaks with an even expression not surprised or alarmed by her husband's words. Once he's finished she follows him into the carriage. Prince Onyx shakes off his guard to join Ronnie and Petal in the wagon where Elavor tried to hide from his tardiness. The young prince has a dark beard that's short and free of most adornments like his father and most dwarven men wear in their waist-length beards. He has on dull green-colored travel robes that complement his dusky skin and vibrant gray eyes. He carries a simple leather satchel which one would often see his hand dip into either conscious or unconsciously as if to see if something were there as relief washes over him when he discovers it. The young prince wears no visible weapons or armor on his person. Meanwhile, his twin sister Opal looks as keen as ever for a fight! The princess is wearing finely made chainmail over fine travel clothes, has a rune-covered great ax strapped to her back, and a visible dagger peaking out of well-made leather boots. Her long black hair is braided into two plaits down the sides of her head and out of her face. In her appearance, she looks like a younger version of her mother but does not seem as soft or refined! The princess reigns a stout black pony with a white face around the courtyard of the fortress near Ran and mounts it. She then gives Ran and Kiran, not far seated in a lead wagon, a soft, pleasing look.
"So, we're to be all murdered on the road it sounds like," Opal jokes to Ran and Kiran smirking as she reigns the dancing pony to settle down. Although the pony is short in stature he looks battle harden and snorts as he's as ready to go as his rider! "Will you be riding in the wagon the entire way Kiran or do the most pious among us prefer to walk on this pilgrimage at some point," she teases the monk still looking very amused with herself before urging the pony towards Varen who is seated on Mouse not far away. The princess nudges the pony to meet the other female warrior, there are six other female guards. There are five dwarven and one human woman among the fifteen other male human, dwarven, and gnomish house guards that will travel with the family but Opal prefers Varen company to anyone else's besides maybe Ran or Kiran's. "Why are all men so ill-tempered in the morning," she whispers to Varen grinning at her friend before casting a glance at her father and brother who both simultaneously wear the same anxious and annoyed expression!
The head scouts then move out first on horseback. They will travel ahead of the retinue and send reports back while the house guards, about twenty in total, spread out amongst the dozen wagons and carriages carrying goods as well as persons forward. Queen Citrine leans out of the carriage as Varen and Opal pass to speak with her daughter before the journey begins in earnest.
"Must you ride the entire way," the queen asks her daughter with a tone and expression that seem wary ready!
"Yes, I plan to ride until the gates of Ospel itself," Opal replies sternly as her mother sighs.
"You'll look a state and you..." the queen pauses smiling softly at Varen, "... as well you know what lies ahead for you as much as I do," she adds her tone hard as Opal groans looking over her shoulder to towards Varen her expression embarrassed before facing her mother again!
"More the reason to enough to ride before the capitol then," Opal retorts the nudges her pony in the belly heading away quickly outpacing the carriage before passing the middle of the caravan and wagon carrying Ronnie, Petal, as well as Onyx.
"But should be...well be accosted on the road as father predicts I think we shall...be ready yes," Onyx asks smiling to his three very best friends in the household Ronnie and Petal in the wagon with them then looks to Elavor who's riding not far from the wagon still in earshot as Opal then passes scowling with Varen not far behind her.
The women are headed towards the wagons near the front of the caravan where Kiran rides in the wagon and Ran follows not far away on horseback. The snow churns around the party from the fresh fall overnight as they settle into their saddles or seats for the journey ahead...
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Kiran smiles faintly at Opal's jibe, "I would happily walk if you'd like to take my spot on the wagon?" As things get underway, he'll guide his wagon to the front to ensure that he is there both to watch the surroundings for trouble as well as to keep a close eye on Opal as he assumes her parents would wish. Once clear of the castle gates he'll check that the others are following before glancing over to Varen, riding with the princess, "Lady Varen, I trust that you will keep her highness out of any trouble? And you sir Ran, will you be leading the scouts? The light of our Lord may guide our spirits, but our feet are our own concern, I'd hate to get lost in the mountains this time of year." As is usual with the man, it is nearly impossible to tell if Kiran is serious or joking, or if he means what he says or something else hides behind the surface words.
(20 passive perception to keep a general eye on the surroundings and princess and her retinue as they travel onward.)
Sitting in the wagon, Ronegan was troubled by Malachite's words. What exactly did the king know? Was he talking about someone in particular? No one in particular struck him as an enemy in hiding, and thanks to his...extracurricular work, Ronegan believed he had a pretty good sense of everyone's character. Kiran was a bit frightening, yes, and that man Ran was damned hard to read too, but none of them seemed to bear the Firstforges any ill-will. He certainly didn't. Although he was reluctant to take this position as a tutor, he admitted now that it was a good decision. He greatly admired Queen Citrine, and the boy Onyx showed real potential to be one of Embera's great scholars if he continued to show such diligence. He was even fond of Opal, though she was not half the student her brother was. He touched the canister on his hip once more and then smiled to himself for the first time since starting this journey.
As his thoughts turned to the prince, Ronegan pushed his concerns out of his head. It was a great opportunity for him to speak a bit about what they were going to see, and with the mapmaker Elavor nearby, perhaps he could practice one of his favorite hobbies and impress the cartographer with his knowledge of the land's geography and history.
Using his best schoolmaster voice, he says "Well now, Prince Onyx. We shall get to see first hand many of the sights I taught you and your sister of in our sessions. Tell me, lad, what are you most excited to see? My homeland, Lahiri, perhaps? Or Ospel itself? There are so many wonders in this world, my boy!" He consciously avoided looking at Petal, hoping that if he didn't make eye contact the gnome might remain silent for once. He had enough experience with her to know it was unlikely, but he hoped at least she would let Onyx speak before launching into one of her fanciful tales.
Ran had been shaken out of his own thoughts at Petal's sudden appearance and questions. Try as he might, he always found it hard not to think of that one as a child; so small and with such innocence. He had responded to her question with "We can all talk to horses. I believe the trick is in whether we can understand what they say back."
But before he could say more, Queen Citrine had addressed everyone. If Malachite just keeps his mouth shut and lets the queen do the talking they should be alright, Ran thought to himself. She has a head on her shoulders and knows how to use it. He suspects she's not disappointed that Hemmon Green isn't here. He could probably delay saying anything to anyone about how the king presents himself to his subjects.
He does smile when Opal jests about being murdered on the road. A lot of the mother in that one.
With the retinue beginning to move, Ran climbs into the saddle and moves through the ranks of the wagons and guards, staying near the front. A little in front of the first wagon and on the very edge of the road. Noticeable if his services were needed. Unfortunately, that position also put him close to the apostle of the Light.
Ran thinks for a moment at Kiran's comments before responding, "Getting lost will likely be the only way to avoid the bandits. They likely know we're on our way already. But let the light guide us."
That felt a little unclean he thinks to himself. But if he was going to continue his climb he was going to need to learn the game.
He watches the fortress recede behind them, not able to shake the feeling that this might be the last time he sees it. Cold, drafty, and doorways too low for his height, but it had been a good respite from the battlefields. And he'd taken a step up from soldier to emissary.
Turning round, he kept the horse to the edge of the road, careful not to let her step in the growing drifts of snow collecting on the side. This couldn't be just bad luck that they had to make this crossing in the winter.
As Opal gives the gents a good-natured ribbing, Varen can't help but give a grin in response. "It seems, my lady, that a bit of cold air has ruffled some delicate feathers! Hopefully they don't fall too far behind us when the road gets tough!" She taps her boot against Mouse's side, keeping pace with Opal.
After the queen speaks to the pair, Varen gives an affirmative nod to the matron, before following Opal further up the line.
To Kiran: "Any trouble? Might as well ask if I could stop the sun rising at dawn, or bring you a piece of the moon. But..." she glances over to the Dwarven princess, "I'll see what I can do."
"Keep an eye out on the trees and ridgelines as we travel, master Hallowedsworn. I will do the same."
Either Helping Kiran keep an eye out, or doing so independently.
Elavor reaches the cart where he noticed Ronegan seat himself and quietly hangs to the side and rear. Watching the crowds reactions during the speeches he quickly latches on to Malachite's words. We'll have to be extra wary, then, Elavor thinks to himself.
He sees Onyx join the passengers in the cart, and returns the smile Onyx gives him. The youth may be of the royal class, but he has a thirst for knowledge. And ancient relics. Something tickles the back of Elavors imagination or intuition... and he can't help but think the reason he got the Tournament assignment from the guild was because of Onyx. What other reason would there be for sending him into Ospel?
Sitting next to Ronegan and Onyx ; Elavor sees Petal , the odd gnome he would notice around the fortress. Hmm... odd. In fact, this entire retinue was an odd grouping... something to hold in his head for now.
During the trip, Elavor would stay close to the wagon, engaging Ronegan and Onyx in small talk about the surrounding locales. He would also be making notes on any maps he had of the areas, if he encountered anything new or of worth noting.
Petal was left confused, playing with her wild mess of red hair, when Ran left her - ”but can you..... uh nevermind.” He was long out of earshot anyway, and Petal had packing to do.
The cart was fun for Petal, a little bumpy, she got to talk with Onyx, and she enjoyed getting out into more natural surroundings. She reassures Onyx, “Of course we’ll be fine, look at all these strong fighters you have around you! Plus, I’m friends with the Earth - I’ll ask it to help us if anything happens!
As Petal starts putting on her furry armour she hears Ronegans droning voice and rolls her eyes. “Onyx doesn’t wanna see more buildings! - he’s been in them all his life!” She laughs, shaking her head.
"I would like to see the grand bazaar and the libraries," Onyx replies to Ronnie. "I...this is my first time venturing farther than the Marshfields," the young prince replies holding his satchel in his lap looking to Petal curiously next. "I trust you'll be better at surviving the road than anyone else," he adds with a soft smile.
Opal looks glum but in the open air with Varen her bad mood quickly disappears as the friends move forward towards whatever destiny awaits...
The party stays alert but nothing out of the ordinary transpires. It takes the entire day to traverse the tundra and as the mountain pass looms ahead the caravan pushes into the late twilight before breaking camp the first night. The first evening then passes without incident as another day and a night then another before the winter gives way to spring like weather. The party stays safe from the dragon's whose effecting on the weather lessens with distance. It's midweek and well into the Marshfield's lands the party finds the heat of a late summer that all of Embera is experiencing. They shed their winter clothes for more suitable attire.
The journey so far has been boring boarding on tedious depending on the company as another day passes with the fortress of the Marshfield's well behind the party. Now on the cusp of the border between Lahiri and Ospel things become a little more interesting.
It's Kiran who notices a group of travelers along tbe forest road. The thick canopy overhead blocks the late afternoon light and the trees press in but there's something about the trees around the party. As the caravan presses on Kiran marks the forward scouts have yet to report on the road ahead for over an hour while the caravan slows. Leading the caravan Ran, Kiran, and Opal find a few carts have backed up. It seems a large tree has fallen on the road ahead blocking passage for carts or wagons. A person on a horse could easily pick their way through the thick forest and some do while others linger awaiting the road to be cleared!
"It's just a tree...you'd think they'd have an ax among them in a forest," Opal moans urging her horse forward to get a better look as the queen calls out a warning from the carriage looking out at why they have stopped.
"Does she need to go," Citrine calls out looking around her eyes then following her daughter with her eyes.
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
(Just to confirm, the travelers he saw were the carts backed up at the fallen tree ahead of our group, right?)
OOC: Yes ahead bit they've oddly been skirting the party for awhile. Moving forward and falling back repeatedly for a couple of hours.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
In the snowy northwest of Embera a perpetual winter settles on the Tumunzir Mountains and the traditional home of the dwarves and a clutch of ancient white dragons. Their presence effecting the very weather itself. The caverns beneath the snowy mountains was the former fortress of the dwarves on the cusp of the Underdark now abandoned since the Darkness. The dwarves, like most of the old ones, are struggling to adapt to an ever-changing world with their now finite lives in the Lightbringer’s Court. Ever since the Darkness brought terror to their kingdom affecting the longevity of all of the old ones the dwarves have moved to the surface of their mountains. In a hundred years they have built a large communal stone fortress that houses all eight remaining clans of dwarves the Firstforge leading them. The great society that once made up the vast dwarven kingdom is now dwindling. They have had to rebuild their culture literally from the ground up! Brought to the Light by their current king’s father, Malachite I, the fortress they now live was built on the surface and is the first of its kind. It is the most visible change to the landscape around Bhil Durahl. The dwarven throne now occupied by Malachite II and his queen Citrine. Their twins Onyx and Opal, the oldest of their children, have created reputations from themselves amongst their people as much as their parents. King Malachite II is a weak and superstitious. He professes to be a learned man but sees omens of doom in all things. Queen Citrine although from a lower house was raised up due to the circumstances of the Darkness. She is known as a kind woman with traditional dwarven values. Prince Onyx is a traditionalist like his mother and a true scholar while his fraternal twin sister Opal is a true believer of the Light and a warrior to her core.
Although the Firstforge clan publicly led a life ‘in the Light’ they are only the second of the Firstforge line to ascend the dwarven throne in the 100-year reign of high king Araylars Vahar. The dwarven kingdom, formerly oligarchy, lost entire generations of elder dwarves. All wiped out by the Darkness. The aftermath having completely changed their traditional government where elders sat on a council composed of each clan’s oldest and most distinguished members. This council then ran the kingdom of Bhil Durahl affecting the daily life of all dwarves. Now Malachite II runs the kingdom in the Light. But unlike his father before him installed by high king Vahar, Malachite II is a true believer and champion of the Lightbringer. He has slowly allowed the church to turn his kingdom into a theocracy masquerading as a monarch like some of the other six kingdoms the Lightbringer's Court. In truth, Malachite II is a weak man. He relies heavily upon guidance from the Chancellor of Light Hemmon Green, a half-elven paladin of the Lightbringer, and the chancellor seemingly is the voice of reason. He is a devout man that Malachite admires wishing to emulate but he has his own agenda too like much of the social clinging elite amongst the clergy. Meanwhile Queen Citrine has tried to influence her husband to keep dwarven traditions alive in plain sight along with a large collection of dwarves within the kingdom while only a hundred-year-old doctrine of the Lightbringer’s Court seems determined to stamp it out as heresy! In the wake of their deliverance for the Darkness who can turn away the Light? The new church has grown deeper roots having slowly gained control of most of the six racial kingdoms within their power. As users of the only effective divine magic that heals, possessing strong leadership, and heading a continuous crusades to keep the Darkness at bay they have many devout followers. The church of the Lightbringer having given the faithful a boon to heal as well as a foothold in Embera. The Lightbringer’s Court has restored order to the chaos that the Darkness wrought!
In the previous weeks Malachite II has been tense. Since the departure of Chancellor Green for Ospel, his most trusted advisors, the king seems at sea. The good chancellor had left Bhil Durahl for the Lightbringer’s Court long before the family was called for a grand tournament like none in this age had seen before! Meanwhile queen Citrine organizes the household to travel knowing it will take the family a week to get from Bhil Durahl to Ospel’s tournament. King Malachite II, like all leaders of the six kingdoms of faithful, worry over the ailing high king and is distracted from preparations for their journey. Rumors plague the six families invited to the tournament that high king Aralyras Vahar is near death and would name Jubel Baelfire his heir. Jubel Baelfire is well-known throughout the six kingdoms. He is the high king’s closest friend, the commander of the Emberain armies, and a light cleric of the Lightbringer! What is not as widely known about Jubel however is that he can command what is seen as heretical magic within the Lightbringer’s Court. The light cleric wields odd magic powers that often show in battle! Like Aralyras, who was Jubel’s teacher in the Light, Jubel commands the Light to heal and to harm like no one else in the clergy! Not even the head of the Lightbringer’s church, grand pontifex Vermillion Darlugdach, can explain Jubel’s powers or the boon the Lightbringer must have granted the man. Jubel has since been shielded from the church’s inquiries as well as judgment due to his protection from the high king himself. Jubel also has his elite group of knights amongst the army and his house, a rising in power amongst the humans in Zozobra, in his corner. All who pay attention to the politics Embera know the tournament is just a spectacle! The real excuse is to gather the six families of the faithful in hopes of creating a new system of government. The six families hope to nominate candidates for a new council set to govern them and superseded the high king’s wishes to appoint an heir. This new council will govern Embera with the church still claiming to only want to play a role as an adviser!
The day starts hectically…all the Firstforge household is hurrying to leave the fortress bundled against the wintery passage over the tundra that separates the fortress to the mountain pass of Tumunzir. The family and it's retainers will travel along the North Road heading towards Ospel for a week. Once they leave their own lands they will pass through the green fields and forests of Lahiri, the traditional lands of the halflings, and the breadbasket of Embera. They will then pass into the wildlands that separate Lahiri from Ospel the great city state on the coast! As the Firstforge family and their retinue gather on their horses and in their carts, king Malachite II seems extremely reluctant to leave the protection of the fortress lacking his councillor chancellor Green. The king on the mountain has always been a fretful man but now he seems more paranoid than ever!
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Kiran Hallowedsworn wanders up and down the lines of people scrambling to get everything ready, offering to help wherever he can, his own minimal belongings having been packed and ready before sunrise. The fact that nearly everyone politely declines his offer does not bother him, he’s slowly become used to the suspicion. His rather vague role within the church has left many of these poor old ones convinced he is there to destroy their old world to create a new one, the rumors sadden him, but he makes no effort to correct them. Once he’s made sure that at least the king’s immediate family is packed and ready, he admits defeat in his efforts to help, and retreats to his wagon set to be near the lead of the group, picking up a small block of wood along the way. Once there he sits on the driver’s bench and whittles away at it, wondering what his bored hands will create this time. While his hands and eyes are occupied, he carefully listens to his surroundings, curious to know more of these others he will be traveling with.
Ronegan Gallowglass stands in the library of the Firstforge keep, feeling more than a little sorry for himself. He pushes a wiry lock of thick brown hair out of his face and his hands go down to check the canister on his hip almost unconsciously. He could tell by the heft of the container that the book was there. Still it was reassuring to him to know that his life's work, written entirely in halfling in his neat, precise script was still at hand. He was not pleased at all to be leaving the fortress, and something about the king's reluctance to accompany the retinue gave the fat little halfling an even greater sense of foreboding.
Ronegan leaves the library and heads outside where the carts are being loaded and horses are being prepped. Pulling his coat closer to him, he steps to a cart near the front, but seeing that strange monk Hallowedsworn sitting at the reins, he stops short. He didn't trust Kiran, didn't trust any of those who had attached themselves to Malachite's household in the name of the Lightbringer. Instead, he begins to wander among the chaos, looking for those he knew to be more convivial company. Elavor, perhaps, or Varen. Ronegan most hoped though, he would see the twins, young Onyx and Opal. Despite their differences, the two of them represented the hope for the future of this kingdom. Ronegan wanted to make sure they were prepared for what was to come.
Ran Deadgleam steps out of the fortress into the cold air and takes in the chaos of the final preparations. He sighs and watches the condensed air from his mouth float upwards in the crisp morning. He pulls his cloak tighter and moves down the steps, looking at the faces of the king's guard and other retainers.
Damn Hemmon Green, he thinks to himself. At least with that preachy ponce of a chancellor present the king would be calm. But without him, Malachite is a mess. And everyone can see that. It's job one of good leader to remain calm no matter what doubts they have inside, and the king is failing miserably. The stress that is creating is even reaching the animals.
Ran arrives at his horse, removes a gauntlet and strokes her on the neck. "Easy girl," he whispers into the horse's ear to calm her. "We'll be going soon." He double checks that his gear and weapons are stowed properly and while still stroking the neck of the horse he returns to watching the rest of the preparations.
Someone needs to talk to Malachite. But with the chancellor gone, who will the king listen to. If Ran can find Opal, she might be able to talk some sense into her father. If not, he might have to take the risk and do it himself. He's spoken to the king numerous times as his emissary, but never to give advice. Given the dangers of the road ahead he will have to risk it if there's no other way. They can't hit that pass in the winter with a lack of leadership like this.
He spots Ronegan the halfling darting through the crowd, and then sees him stop short when he spots Kiran. He knew the halfling was smart. You have to be careful around these apostles of the Lightbringer. But he should have a word with Ronegan to make sure he isn't too obvious about it. They will have enough trouble on the road not to bring their own with them.
And that reminds him of something else he wants to bring up with Ronegan. But that will have to wait. Right now he needs to keep watch for Opal.
"This is going to be a long day," he says to the horse.
Petal sits cross legged in the yard, picking a small flower and poking it into the button hole of her shirt. The clothes the dwarves made her wear were scratchy and uncomfortable, not to mention ugly, so she tried to make them as nice as possible with flowers she found around the yard. If only they let her wear that lovely suit with all the fur and hide she traded for those nasty pieces of metal.
She bends down and kisses the ground, thanking the earth and finishing her ritual, before getting some sacks, and heading out to the chaos as the house loads up for for their journey. “Oh boy, out on a trip.” She says aloud. She didn’t really like it in the keep, with all these ugly stone buildings, and was itching to get on the road. She heads over to the cart, stopping by the horse to say hello. ”Hi sir horsey, thank you for taking us on this trip! Are you ok with all this luggage and me and the others riding in that cart? Is everyone treating you ok?” She notices Ran speaking to his horse too and approaches innocently “Hey, I didn’t know you could talk to horses, it IS gonna be a long day for him huh, carrying us all!”
Gilgin Hardhammer - Mountain Dwarf Cleric (Forge Domain) - Icewind Dale
Petal - Forest Gnome Druid (Circle of the Land - Forest) - Unsung Heroes of Embera
Inside the stable, a young human woman finishes strapping a pair of saddlebags tightly to the heavy saddle atop a sable horse. The horse pokes his face at her waistline, and she gives a grin, proffering a carrot piece from her belt satchel. "Can't hide anything from you, Mouse." The carrot disappears quickly with a crunch. Next up goes a holster for a crossbow, placed so she would have quick access to the weapon if required. The woman double checks the last saddlebag, making sure the wooden case containing her toolkits is secure. She opens the stable door, leading Mouse calmly into the courtyard where the rest of the chaos unfolds.
Varen Delisse stands about 5'6", her shoulder-length auburn hair tied back into a loose braid. She wears dark brown leather, reinforced in vital places with steel bands to give more protection without compromising mobility, and has matching leather bracers and boots. Her clothing is appropriate for the trip to come - a heavy gray cloak trimmed with wolf fur around the hood and collar, a warm woolen shirt dyed hunter green, and black riding pants. She has a leather satchel on one side of her belt, the opposite holding the holster for a long, slim-bladed sabre. A bandolier across her chest holds a pair of throwing knives, and a small round shield is held by a leather strap across her back over the cloak. A fine silver chain necklace disappears into the folds of her shirt, behind the leather chestpiece.
Varen scans the crowd with her green eyes, spotting Petal and Ran up near the front of the procession, as well as Kiran on the cart itself. The captain wanted her to provide escort to the front section of the convoy, so she begins to walk Mouse in that direction. As she does so, she passes by Ronegan.
"Hello, Ronegan. Are you excited to set off? It's a beautiful day to travel. The air's crisp today... quite refreshing, a big change from the library!" She speaks with a chipper voice, her accent with a touch of nobility to it, though her demeanor is quite down-to-earth.
When I think of her voice, it's similar to the female human of Guild Wars 2. GW2 Human Noble.
Aldrik Reinholdt in Dragon Heist
Daventry in The Candlekeep Mysteries, and her bag
The din from outside is what wakes Elavor... then the searing light from outside. Well, searing might be an overstatement. In his groggy, half hungover, delirious state; Elavor could swear the sun itself was burning his retinas through his closed eyelids... "Mmmmph... dammit. That light!! What ungodly hour is it?!" Elavor stumbles to get up from his bed. The traveling clothes, pack, and gear that he laid out the night before- during a rare moment of buzzed clarity - present him with a puzzle. Why on earth did he lay them all out... He returned from that southern mapping mission nearly two weeks ago and wasn't due to leave the fortress until the Tourna---
"Oh shit... shit, shit, shit..." Elavor says as he struggles to get into his clothes, realization of what day it was dawning on him in an instant. Hurrying to fasten his wood-handled rapier at his side, he quickly tucks the twin, black metal daggers behind him in their holsters, slings his pack on his back, grabs the short bow and his shoulder pack, and rushes out the door. Quickly muttering under his breath, he barely has time to rustle his fingers through his short brown hair when he rounds the corner and sees most of the stables empty or emptying. He notices a young lady leading her horse out of the stables.... what was her name again? Vareth? Varen? Varen. That's it... Maybe if he's quick enough he can catch up to her and the cart where he saw the familiar and friendly face of Ronegan.
If he's lucky.
Quickly, deftly, and quietly he attempts to sneak to his gray mare, Dust, without anyone noticing his tardiness (Or disheveled appearance). This was definitely NOT the morning to sleep in. As long as he doesn't gain the wrath of any of the higher-ups... Dust quietly side-eyes him as he loads the pack, and gear. Whispering, he says: "What now girl? Look, I told you I'd be here first thing, right? Well, look, there was an extra bottle of mead no one was going to drink, soooo.." Elavor swings his legs over and gives a slight nudge with his heel... "Let's get up there, Dust. Nice n easy.." And the duo leave the stables, the crisp wintry air clearing whatever remained of the fog caused by the mead from the night before. Slowly they make their way to where they saw Ronegan and Varen heading.. .
Queen Citrine looks over her retinue critically and then clears her throat. Standing taller than most female dwarves Citrine has a dusky complexion, bright gray eyes, and a beautiful face while showing age still holds the admiration of all who know her. Their affection is merited for Citrine is proud, handsome, and clever. She is the only reason the new church doesn't sit on the dwarven throne already and all know while she abides the Lightbringer following its teachings her roots are much deeper still. Citrine wears plum-colored traveling robes of the finest quality and a circlet dotted with rough-cut emeralds set in silver. Her hair is black hair is elaborately braided and adorned reaches her waist.
"This will be a long journey," the queen begins her tone even and her expression unreadable. "We've had reports there are bandits in the high country beyond the mountains. The Marshfield's lands have always been lousy with outlaws for we all know halflings focus more on growing food and brewing ale then eating food and drinking ale than law and order," she jibs gaining laughter from the predominately human, gnomish, and dwarven household. "But by the Light we should reach Ospel in a week without incident," she adds her eyes wandering over the party before settling on her children, the oldest Onyx and Opal who arrive just after Elavor as if their tardiness is being marked before she continues to speak. "This tournament is a time to prove ourselves worthy of our gifts in the Light. But also to prove that although our halls are no longer underground and our people are no longer as ancient as the mountains that we are house Firstforge and our fire still burns brightest in the Darkness," she adds resolutely! "Now my husband will speak...." the queen says gesturing to her side where Malachite II now stands in plum-colored robes matching the queen wearing a small crown of silver and emeralds too on his bald head. He then strokes his beard, a black and silver mass of groomed hair that hangs to his waist and is adorned with all manner of trinkets, as Citrine steps back.
"True the road is dangerous but truer still we are all bathed in the Light and it shall protect us," king Malachite II calls out his voice not as commanding as his wife's but still resonant. "I ask you to be mindful of who you speak to as well as what you do on the road. While we will surely meet other travelers enemies hide in plain sight and often come baring goodwill at first glance," he adds cryptically as usual before giving a curt nod. "Let us get on our way," he then says motioning with his hand in a circle overhead before leaving the stairs for the waiting carriages as the party and retinue behind to move.
The queen just looks over the party and the retinue while Malachite speaks with an even expression not surprised or alarmed by her husband's words. Once he's finished she follows him into the carriage. Prince Onyx shakes off his guard to join Ronnie and Petal in the wagon where Elavor tried to hide from his tardiness. The young prince has a dark beard that's short and free of most adornments like his father and most dwarven men wear in their waist-length beards. He has on dull green-colored travel robes that complement his dusky skin and vibrant gray eyes. He carries a simple leather satchel which one would often see his hand dip into either conscious or unconsciously as if to see if something were there as relief washes over him when he discovers it. The young prince wears no visible weapons or armor on his person. Meanwhile, his twin sister Opal looks as keen as ever for a fight! The princess is wearing finely made chainmail over fine travel clothes, has a rune-covered great ax strapped to her back, and a visible dagger peaking out of well-made leather boots. Her long black hair is braided into two plaits down the sides of her head and out of her face. In her appearance, she looks like a younger version of her mother but does not seem as soft or refined! The princess reigns a stout black pony with a white face around the courtyard of the fortress near Ran and mounts it. She then gives Ran and Kiran, not far seated in a lead wagon, a soft, pleasing look.
"So, we're to be all murdered on the road it sounds like," Opal jokes to Ran and Kiran smirking as she reigns the dancing pony to settle down. Although the pony is short in stature he looks battle harden and snorts as he's as ready to go as his rider! "Will you be riding in the wagon the entire way Kiran or do the most pious among us prefer to walk on this pilgrimage at some point," she teases the monk still looking very amused with herself before urging the pony towards Varen who is seated on Mouse not far away. The princess nudges the pony to meet the other female warrior, there are six other female guards. There are five dwarven and one human woman among the fifteen other male human, dwarven, and gnomish house guards that will travel with the family but Opal prefers Varen company to anyone else's besides maybe Ran or Kiran's. "Why are all men so ill-tempered in the morning," she whispers to Varen grinning at her friend before casting a glance at her father and brother who both simultaneously wear the same anxious and annoyed expression!
The head scouts then move out first on horseback. They will travel ahead of the retinue and send reports back while the house guards, about twenty in total, spread out amongst the dozen wagons and carriages carrying goods as well as persons forward. Queen Citrine leans out of the carriage as Varen and Opal pass to speak with her daughter before the journey begins in earnest.
"Must you ride the entire way," the queen asks her daughter with a tone and expression that seem wary ready!
"Yes, I plan to ride until the gates of Ospel itself," Opal replies sternly as her mother sighs.
"You'll look a state and you..." the queen pauses smiling softly at Varen, "... as well you know what lies ahead for you as much as I do," she adds her tone hard as Opal groans looking over her shoulder to towards Varen her expression embarrassed before facing her mother again!
"More the reason to enough to ride before the capitol then," Opal retorts the nudges her pony in the belly heading away quickly outpacing the carriage before passing the middle of the caravan and wagon carrying Ronnie, Petal, as well as Onyx.
"But should be...well be accosted on the road as father predicts I think we shall...be ready yes," Onyx asks smiling to his three very best friends in the household Ronnie and Petal in the wagon with them then looks to Elavor who's riding not far from the wagon still in earshot as Opal then passes scowling with Varen not far behind her.
The women are headed towards the wagons near the front of the caravan where Kiran rides in the wagon and Ran follows not far away on horseback. The snow churns around the party from the fresh fall overnight as they settle into their saddles or seats for the journey ahead...
OOC: Post at will!!
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Kiran smiles faintly at Opal's jibe, "I would happily walk if you'd like to take my spot on the wagon?" As things get underway, he'll guide his wagon to the front to ensure that he is there both to watch the surroundings for trouble as well as to keep a close eye on Opal as he assumes her parents would wish. Once clear of the castle gates he'll check that the others are following before glancing over to Varen, riding with the princess, "Lady Varen, I trust that you will keep her highness out of any trouble? And you sir Ran, will you be leading the scouts? The light of our Lord may guide our spirits, but our feet are our own concern, I'd hate to get lost in the mountains this time of year." As is usual with the man, it is nearly impossible to tell if Kiran is serious or joking, or if he means what he says or something else hides behind the surface words.
(20 passive perception to keep a general eye on the surroundings and princess and her retinue as they travel onward.)
Sitting in the wagon, Ronegan was troubled by Malachite's words. What exactly did the king know? Was he talking about someone in particular? No one in particular struck him as an enemy in hiding, and thanks to his...extracurricular work, Ronegan believed he had a pretty good sense of everyone's character. Kiran was a bit frightening, yes, and that man Ran was damned hard to read too, but none of them seemed to bear the Firstforges any ill-will. He certainly didn't. Although he was reluctant to take this position as a tutor, he admitted now that it was a good decision. He greatly admired Queen Citrine, and the boy Onyx showed real potential to be one of Embera's great scholars if he continued to show such diligence. He was even fond of Opal, though she was not half the student her brother was. He touched the canister on his hip once more and then smiled to himself for the first time since starting this journey.
As his thoughts turned to the prince, Ronegan pushed his concerns out of his head. It was a great opportunity for him to speak a bit about what they were going to see, and with the mapmaker Elavor nearby, perhaps he could practice one of his favorite hobbies and impress the cartographer with his knowledge of the land's geography and history.
Using his best schoolmaster voice, he says "Well now, Prince Onyx. We shall get to see first hand many of the sights I taught you and your sister of in our sessions. Tell me, lad, what are you most excited to see? My homeland, Lahiri, perhaps? Or Ospel itself? There are so many wonders in this world, my boy!" He consciously avoided looking at Petal, hoping that if he didn't make eye contact the gnome might remain silent for once. He had enough experience with her to know it was unlikely, but he hoped at least she would let Onyx speak before launching into one of her fanciful tales.
Ran had been shaken out of his own thoughts at Petal's sudden appearance and questions. Try as he might, he always found it hard not to think of that one as a child; so small and with such innocence. He had responded to her question with "We can all talk to horses. I believe the trick is in whether we can understand what they say back."
But before he could say more, Queen Citrine had addressed everyone. If Malachite just keeps his mouth shut and lets the queen do the talking they should be alright, Ran thought to himself. She has a head on her shoulders and knows how to use it. He suspects she's not disappointed that Hemmon Green isn't here. He could probably delay saying anything to anyone about how the king presents himself to his subjects.
He does smile when Opal jests about being murdered on the road. A lot of the mother in that one.
With the retinue beginning to move, Ran climbs into the saddle and moves through the ranks of the wagons and guards, staying near the front. A little in front of the first wagon and on the very edge of the road. Noticeable if his services were needed. Unfortunately, that position also put him close to the apostle of the Light.
Ran thinks for a moment at Kiran's comments before responding, "Getting lost will likely be the only way to avoid the bandits. They likely know we're on our way already. But let the light guide us."
That felt a little unclean he thinks to himself. But if he was going to continue his climb he was going to need to learn the game.
He watches the fortress recede behind them, not able to shake the feeling that this might be the last time he sees it. Cold, drafty, and doorways too low for his height, but it had been a good respite from the battlefields. And he'd taken a step up from soldier to emissary.
Turning round, he kept the horse to the edge of the road, careful not to let her step in the growing drifts of snow collecting on the side. This couldn't be just bad luck that they had to make this crossing in the winter.
As Opal gives the gents a good-natured ribbing, Varen can't help but give a grin in response. "It seems, my lady, that a bit of cold air has ruffled some delicate feathers! Hopefully they don't fall too far behind us when the road gets tough!" She taps her boot against Mouse's side, keeping pace with Opal.
After the queen speaks to the pair, Varen gives an affirmative nod to the matron, before following Opal further up the line.
To Kiran: "Any trouble? Might as well ask if I could stop the sun rising at dawn, or bring you a piece of the moon. But..." she glances over to the Dwarven princess, "I'll see what I can do."
"Keep an eye out on the trees and ridgelines as we travel, master Hallowedsworn. I will do the same."
Either Helping Kiran keep an eye out, or doing so independently.
Aldrik Reinholdt in Dragon Heist
Daventry in The Candlekeep Mysteries, and her bag
Elavor reaches the cart where he noticed Ronegan seat himself and quietly hangs to the side and rear. Watching the crowds reactions during the speeches he quickly latches on to Malachite's words. We'll have to be extra wary, then, Elavor thinks to himself.
He sees Onyx join the passengers in the cart, and returns the smile Onyx gives him. The youth may be of the royal class, but he has a thirst for knowledge. And ancient relics. Something tickles the back of Elavors imagination or intuition... and he can't help but think the reason he got the Tournament assignment from the guild was because of Onyx. What other reason would there be for sending him into Ospel?
Sitting next to Ronegan and Onyx ; Elavor sees Petal , the odd gnome he would notice around the fortress. Hmm... odd. In fact, this entire retinue was an odd grouping... something to hold in his head for now.
During the trip, Elavor would stay close to the wagon, engaging Ronegan and Onyx in small talk about the surrounding locales. He would also be making notes on any maps he had of the areas, if he encountered anything new or of worth noting.
(Passive Perception 15)
Petal was left confused, playing with her wild mess of red hair, when Ran left her - ”but can you..... uh nevermind.” He was long out of earshot anyway, and Petal had packing to do.
The cart was fun for Petal, a little bumpy, she got to talk with Onyx, and she enjoyed getting out into more natural surroundings. She reassures Onyx, “Of course we’ll be fine, look at all these strong fighters you have around you! Plus, I’m friends with the Earth - I’ll ask it to help us if anything happens!
As Petal starts putting on her furry armour she hears Ronegans droning voice and rolls her eyes. “Onyx doesn’t wanna see more buildings! - he’s been in them all his life!” She laughs, shaking her head.
Gilgin Hardhammer - Mountain Dwarf Cleric (Forge Domain) - Icewind Dale
Petal - Forest Gnome Druid (Circle of the Land - Forest) - Unsung Heroes of Embera
"I would like to see the grand bazaar and the libraries," Onyx replies to Ronnie. "I...this is my first time venturing farther than the Marshfields," the young prince replies holding his satchel in his lap looking to Petal curiously next. "I trust you'll be better at surviving the road than anyone else," he adds with a soft smile.
Opal looks glum but in the open air with Varen her bad mood quickly disappears as the friends move forward towards whatever destiny awaits...
The party stays alert but nothing out of the ordinary transpires. It takes the entire day to traverse the tundra and as the mountain pass looms ahead the caravan pushes into the late twilight before breaking camp the first night. The first evening then passes without incident as another day and a night then another before the winter gives way to spring like weather. The party stays safe from the dragon's whose effecting on the weather lessens with distance. It's midweek and well into the Marshfield's lands the party finds the heat of a late summer that all of Embera is experiencing. They shed their winter clothes for more suitable attire.
The journey so far has been boring boarding on tedious depending on the company as another day passes with the fortress of the Marshfield's well behind the party. Now on the cusp of the border between Lahiri and Ospel things become a little more interesting.
It's Kiran who notices a group of travelers along tbe forest road. The thick canopy overhead blocks the late afternoon light and the trees press in but there's something about the trees around the party. As the caravan presses on Kiran marks the forward scouts have yet to report on the road ahead for over an hour while the caravan slows. Leading the caravan Ran, Kiran, and Opal find a few carts have backed up. It seems a large tree has fallen on the road ahead blocking passage for carts or wagons. A person on a horse could easily pick their way through the thick forest and some do while others linger awaiting the road to be cleared!
"It's just a tree...you'd think they'd have an ax among them in a forest," Opal moans urging her horse forward to get a better look as the queen calls out a warning from the carriage looking out at why they have stopped.
"Does she need to go," Citrine calls out looking around her eyes then following her daughter with her eyes.
Everyone roll a perception check check please...
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Kiran perception: 19
(Just to confirm, the travelers he saw were the carts backed up at the fallen tree ahead of our group, right?)
Varen Perception 5
Edit: Oof. Passive is 14 at least.
Aldrik Reinholdt in Dragon Heist
Daventry in The Candlekeep Mysteries, and her bag
Petal smiles at Onyx, ”Surviving? Out here, this is living.”
21
Petal looks out at the trees longingly as the caravan slows.
Gilgin Hardhammer - Mountain Dwarf Cleric (Forge Domain) - Icewind Dale
Petal - Forest Gnome Druid (Circle of the Land - Forest) - Unsung Heroes of Embera
Ronegan perception: 10
OOC: Yes ahead bit they've oddly been skirting the party for awhile. Moving forward and falling back repeatedly for a couple of hours.
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King