It was six months ago that Elaria Feywing, known throughout the Kingdom of Skylark as The Master, took in her newest class of pupils. The old elf woman's skills in magic, combat, and survival are legendary. She is credited with the training of Marigold the Brave, who slew the infamous great blue dragon Diraxthese, and Blouton Buttertree, who closed the Demon Portal of Nargoth, along with so many other famous heroes. Of all the would-be treasure seekers, mercenaries, and do-gooders that came across her doorstep begging for her wisdom, only six made the cut of her critical eye.
Our Party:
Falenas Sarric: High Elf Warlock (The Archfey) Yarnick Weyer: Stout Halfling Fighter Maelfearance: Human Wizard Noah Rostron: Human Sorcerer (Draconic Bloodline) Ryona Westfellow: Human Cleric (Order Domain) Yevele: Human Monk
OOC: With your first post, introduce your character to their fellow pupils. Describe your character's apperance, and consider describing things that the other characters have possibly noticed about them in the six months they have spent training together with Elaria. Why did your character come to The Master's mansion before beginning their life of adventure?
Yevele is a fairly large human female, weighing 200 lbs and standing 6'2" tall. With her auburn hair, one would think she would stand out in most crowds, but, seems to have an ability to blend into the background in many situations. Yevele also moves with a nimbleness that seems to be a contrast to her large frame. During combat training, she often prefers to make people miss by moving rather than block the attacks. She only has two outfits, both of which are identical consisting of black cotton pants and a black shirt embossed with a dark moon. Her nose appears to have been broken several times already, giving her face a less than pleasing appearance. Her personal space is always kept in a neat and orderly fashion. She rarely leaves the room without her staff that is as tall as she is.
Her personality is a bit rough, as she has a tendency to blurt out what she is thinking in an almost antagonistic manner, unaware of the effect this has on other people. Yevele will also share bits of wisdom that Lao-Te, the head monk in her monastery would share. Despite her rough manner, Yevele does care about her fellow students, even going so far as to make calligraphic name plates for each person to hang over their bed.
When asked why she had come to The Master's mansion her reply always is that Lao-Te had requested that she come her to further her training.
Jarnick Weyer is a younger halfling with chestnut hair and distinguishable sideburns, he is hearty for a halfling, standing at 3’6 and 40 odd pounds, still, he is agile and has quick reflexes. He used to fight with heavy chain mails, but while it was good against petty thief and refugee-turned bandits, the Master deems it too slow against trained individuals. Jarnick suffered at first with this new fighting style that requires skill and techniques, as he himself wasn’t trained, but he soon overcame it, both because of his innate dexterity and his diligence to go the extra mile, you could sometimes see him training by himself deep at night or early in the morning.
Jarnick is quite amicable but impetuous at times, he is also fairly inquisitive and has these deep brown watchful eyes (especially when looking at Noah), and he’s forthright about the reason of it. Jarnick grew up with his widowed mom in a small town next to nowhere, he was blessed with some kindhearted townspeople, he lived a happy and healthy childhood. The town enjoyed peace and harmony up until a stone miner found some shards of gem near the village, the village started to grow rapidly with influx of nearby peasants, either to be miners or thieves, and like the smell of blood to sharks, the fortune draws bandits to this now rich town. And that’s also why he’s here, after realizing his untrained self isn’t going to be of help for long, he arrived at The Master’s mansion, to become better suited at protecting his villagers, and to learn to train others alike.
Most first notice her short, fine wavy red hair. She stands as tall as the average male at 5'6" with youthful, light ruddy skin. With a look to you, she goes straight to your eyes, unwavering in her confident gaze, waiting for you to introduce yourself. She has a stern posture with her hands at ease to her sides, and lean physique. Her common brown and white clothes include simple gloves and covers up to the neck while mildly loosely fitting to her form. Signs of repair dot her trousers and sleeves from a long life of use and care. Several small, mostly healed scars mark her forehead and left face- nothing resembling a weapon's cut or animal's claw, but more than a common person should have. She offers her hand when you do approach her with an introduction. Her voice is smooth and clear, slightly elevated in volume, as though giving practiced effort to her speech. "Ryona Westfellow of Margreve."
Though most are busy, Ryona is especially so. When she isn't studying, she's doing exercises. When not training, she's taking on chores, often helping others. When she bores of that, she's practicing arts or craft or keeping to her room. It makes it difficult to get to know her. She's not unfriendly, just focused- going so far as to pay more attention to her surroundings while waiting, looking for anything that might be amiss. Getting her attention often involves working at a task together- and then she talks, prompted or not. Then she is honest and open, talking of her late siblings and travels to other lands with her mother before she was imprisoned.
She passionately talks about the role of a community and how an individual should contribute to it. "It's really what separates us from beasts," she makes sure everyone understands, "and the healthiest community is built on responsibility. It's a lot to ask, but a person doesn't deserve a good community, they have to help build and keep it. Or... they'll bring it down. And that's what we exist for. To help deal with the beasts against society, within and without."
(She might have grown closer to some more than others, pending all introductions)
The others should easily see Ryona's ability in combat. She exudes confidence in her martial prowess and skill with divine magic. The spiritual power she shares in the most extreme training exercises gives a surge of inner strength, inspiring even the most timid into sudden energetic action. With mace and spear, she makes short work of training dummies and offers a tough opponent in sparring. Not once, however, had anyone felt her healing magic. "Don't ask for divine healing. You receive it only when you really need it. Trust me, you don't want to need it. If... when you do, I'll do everything I can for you. Promise you'll do the same?"
At 5'6'' and weighing 114 lbs, Falenas Sarric stands taller than other high elves but just as thin. His long black hair tied in the back frames his light brown skinned face. He will greet you with green eyes and a warm smile. You won't get much out of him in normal conversation , as he rarely speaks first, but if you strike an interesting research subject for him (mostly arcana related things), it will be difficult to shut him up. Once or twice you may have caught him talking extensively about the Sarric wizards and their deeds. Even if he talks about them with passion and admiration, if you're insightful enough you'll notice that there's a little bit of sadness when he does it. When asked about why is he training with The Master, he will just tell you that he has to get better.
During these 6 months you have seen him as very well behaved, showing respect to his peers and mostly to Master Feywing. During combat training you've been surprised with the powerful blows that he delivers with his quarterstaff, although he can't quite take a hit. Even in training he is taking notes, watching carefully Yevele's technique with her staff. Outside of lessons he will diligently contribute to house chores and when all is done you'll find him reading in the library or his quarters. The thing that has probably caught your attention the most is that he doesn't tolerate mistakes very well. Either in academic or combat contexts, if he fails in a task he will put on a serious face and close up, overthinking what he did and not talking to anyone, many times The Master or one of you has had to snap him out of this trance.
The 5'10" and 172 pounds frame of Noah Rostron seems to saunter even during march, exuding a seemingly impenetrable confidence (whether this is a legitimate expression or merely a facade spurred on by his charismatic attributes is up to you). He is easy to please and easy to converse with, bearing an outgoing personality when appropriate - he is quite reverent of aspects of high society due to a rough upbringing, but has found the best way to navigate the world is skin deep. Though he does not understand his Draconic ancestry, it used to somewhat alarm him to perform his arcane abilities around strangers, but him and those around him have become accustomed to his spellcasting. His veins run white with ice and his eyes burn with an ominous red, as he mutters incantations in fluent Draconic. The effect fades once the spell has been cast, but he feels an impulse of greed and trickery whenever he exerts himself in his casting ability - he trades power the increasing influence of the spirit of the White Dragon within him.
Locks of curly blonde hair hang comfortably just below his shoulder, with thin lips and light green eyes easily stretching into a warm grin. He stands with some muscle, and has trained himself in the use of a set of heirloom daggers and hand-to-hand combat when his spellcasting fails him. Noah has fashioned a wand from rare mahogany wood that he now uses as his spellcasting focus. He wears whatever decent garb he can find and currently favors an olive green vest with a cream colored shirt below, and a pair of unremarkable brown trousers.
After encounters and training he is temporarily withdrawn socially, perhaps telling more of his ancestry to those with an insightful mind - he has made fast friends with those more sociable in the group, and is deeply respectful to his superiors. It is again difficult to determine if this is indicative of an underlying intent to dispose of them or a genuine admiration - his charm is used as convenient, and prefers to hop from job to job to earn his pay, wary of staying with one provider for too long. He talks little of his early childhood, with the prevailing story changing slightly periodically. Despite this, he speaks frequently of his teenage exploits winding through dangerous streets and his harrowing dealings with guild-masters and ruthless gangs. Though he is unflinchingly friendly on average, has yet to see if his loyalty will be fully earned by his companions.
Despite his confidence, he is internally yearning to improve his abilities - he figures it is better to delay his debut during training with Master Feywing than meet an embarrassing end without proper initiation.
At first glance, Maelfearance is a wretched creature. He is gaunt, dressed in little more than rags and shackled. Despite all that he carries himself with an air of nobility and seemingly is unbothered by the state of things. Most are likely to initially keep a certain distance from such a person, even more so once his tendency to seemingly talk to nothing is noticed. While training with Marigold the Bold, however, it becomes apparent that this unlikely student is intelligent and driven. And perhaps crazy. His belief that he is forgotten by death, that he talks to ghosts and spirits, and that his goal is to revenge a 100 year old grievance and to raise his beloved wife from the grave seems to convince most that he is indeed insane. Yet dragons walk the earth, magic can determine the flow of rivers, and heroes arise daily. Who is to say?
Maelfearance is aloof but not haughty, keeps his own council but more than willing to share his insights and wisdom when requested or useful. Over the months, training together, it becomes apparent that while Maelfearance would never show signs of affection, nor speak words of such to the other students, he does consider them to his tribe and that he would scourge the earth for them...
(I think I provide most the details already in the PM thread so a bit shorter here...)
Over the last half-year you've learned that Elaria Feywing is intense, but fair and encouraging, her teaching almost as extraordinary as the knowledge that guides it. Though The Master is over eight centuries old, her elf blood keeps her thin, lithe, and youthful, which allows her to enforce your rigorous training regimen. You have each been learning different skills in magic, combat, wilderness survival, exploration, and more, but you all take your meals together.
Today, you sit at a long dining table enjoying a hot breakfast together. Halfway through the meal, Elaria puts down her porridge spoon and stands up, looking you all in the eye. Her golden hair frames her green orbs, and she cracks a smile as she begins speaking.
"It is time for your first real test in combat. We have a rat infestation in the basement. It may not sound like much, but these are not your everyday rats; as big as a dog, they are, and as dangerous as any creature that size that's hungry. I managed to contain them within the larder, but they'll soon eat through all our supplies and the door itself unless you get down there to exterminate them."
Her green eyes twinkle with mischievous delight as she adds, "I also seem to have misplaced the key to the larder after locking them in, so you will have to get through the door and past the barricade I set up before you can get to the rats."
The Master sits back down in her chair and puts a spoonful of porridge to her lips. Before actually eating she looks up and says with a wink, "That's your cue to head down to the basement."
Yevele quickly eats a couple more spoonfuls of porridge before grabbing her staff and heading toward the door, muttering under her breath "Rodents of unusual size, I didn't think they existed." She waits at the top of the stairs for the rest of her party to join her, hoping that one of them has a lock pick set. The Master probably wouldn't be too happy if they broke the door down.
While waiting for the rest of her classmates to join her, Yevele began to meditate and try to center herself before the work begins. As Lao-Te would say, "a clouded mind leads to clouded fighting."
Noah remains talkative and rather amiable throughout the meal, eating at a moderate pace and stopping briefly to thank Master Feywing for the meal (a habit he has developed out of politeness, if she is annoyed by it he does not take notice). He grins slightly as she relays the predicament to the group, merely nodding in acknowledgement. The sorcerer scarfs down the rest of his meal and stands, patting the sheathe of one of the three daggers he carries constantly.
"An early morning spar with giant rodents? Sounds entertaining enough. I'll fetch the rest of my gear and meet you all back here."
With that, Noah retreats to his quarters and gathers the rest of his things. On the way back to the dining room, he casts Minor Illusion to produce a short fiddle tune which he hums alongside. Once he reaches the dining room, he dispels the illusion and returns to the group, taking a seat as he waits for the others to prepare themselves for the delve into the basement.
Ryona smiles with delight matching Elaria's- their teacher thought enough of them to test them against a real threat. She stands up even as the Master winks. "I'll be ready in twelve minutes. Take care of the door if you want, but please don't go through the barricade without me!"
With that, she starts to run to her room to change into her armor, but turns after only a couple strides. "Actually, I'll just grab my armor and get it on along the way. See you there in a minute." She leaves her porridge half-finished and vanishes to the quarters to take off her regular clothes to haphazardly throw chainmail on, strapping it together on along the way to the larder door, pack of her essential gear ready to go loosely over her shoulder. As she walks down the hall from the quarters, she struggles to don the armor as the pack gets swung around herself, her excitement slowly fading in the effort. If she sees someone along the way- "Oh, can you help hold this for me while I get this on?" Her pack weighs 37 pounds.
Falenas has been eating slowly, more focused on his thoughts than anything else. As soon as The Master finishes talking, he quickly stands up and forgets about his food. Bowing exaggerately he speaks: "Of course Master, is there any more information that could help us carry out this task or is this all we need to know?". While he's talking, you may notice that he is terrified that he may be talking out of place.
If Elaria doesn't give them more information, Falenas will go to his quarters to get his gear and then he'll go to the door where the rest of the party is. He'll help Ryona with her pack if he crosses paths with her.
Ryona remains focused on her armor, slowing further to continue donning it. "Thanks Noah. They've probably been nibbling at each other's feces if they're that hungry. I'd rather not have one of them sink their teeth in."
Just now managing to pull the armor down over her waist, she takes a few easy breaths, picking up her pace as she adjusts it. "Some people make a living hunting big rats- they're adventurers too. The sewer patrol." She chuckles light-heatedly. "For a first run, the larder is a lot nicer than sewers. We're pretty lucky."
(re)Edit: She'll take her pack back after a minute, with Ryona continuing to don the armor, which will take 8 more minutes when she gets to the larder door three minutes after the Master makes her declaration.
At the mention of rats Maelfearance stops feeding Rat the bit of porridge that was on his finger and instead slips the rat into a pocket of his tattered robes. "It won't be a bother at all," he says, turning his head to the left where nobody at all was. "I'm sure it's just a bit of a test to make sure we're ready."
Standing and taking up his staff, the wizard straightens his clothing and gives a brief nod and smile to the vacant air to his left. Turning his attention to the table and those already starting to scramble away he merely says "I will meet you there," and then heads off towards the larder.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
When everyone is assembled at the top of the stairs (except Malefearance, who is already in the basement), Yevele looks around and asks "Anyone know how to pick a lock?"
"Let's go talk to Malefearnce and figure out how we are going to attack these figures. Perhaps Yarnick and I should take the lead, with Ryona behind us and the spell casters in the rear?"
Once in front of the pantry, Yevele looks at the door to figure out how to open it without breaking it (assuming now one can pick a lock). Are the hinges on our side of the door?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(Somehow I didn't see Siyaj's post, editing...)
With a shake of the head to Yevele, she continues to don her armor. She only spares glances around the space in front of the pantry door in the effort.
"She mis-placed it somewhere for us to find. Go on, look around for it (investigation), or maybe the Master might give us some hints if you ask the right questions. If we haven't found it by the time I get this on, then I'll start looking for it too. If you want to be the one to open it, that's fine by me."
Perception while donning armor (assuming this happens over the course of a minute rather than the usual, giving most of her attention to donning her armor): 18 (edit after Jarnick offers help- if perception can have advantage from aid, here's 2nd roll): 22
Jarnick already has his shield and rapier on his side, long bow and quiver resting behind his chair, along with the smear of thin sweat on his forehead suggest that this was a morning train day. Unlike some of the others, Jarnick established the habit early on to carry weapon at the breakfast table, after all, neither himself nor the whole group has a chance against The Master.
Also a morning routine, Jarnick rolls his eye to Noah’s gushing attitude.
Jarnick stands up abruptly as Elaria lays down their first mission, almost knocking down the chair,“It will be done, master Feywing.”Unintentionally glances at Maelfearance’s rat.
Jarnick nods to Yevele, “I can take the lead, but I’m no good at picking locks.” And to Ryona, “Alright, I’m not good at searching things, but I can certainly help.”
OOC: Fantastic first rounds of posting, everyone. Those great introductions have given you all Inspiration. Inspiration can be used one time to grant advantage to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw. Because I usually roll saving throws to save time, you can give that roll advantage after the fact, but for an attack roll or ability check, you must state that you are using Inspiration in the same post that the roll is made.
You can only have one "Inspiration Die" at a time, so save it for a roll where Inspiration is needed, but don't hang onto it for too long.
Eagle-eyed glances from Ryona and Jarnick spot no sign of a key in the dining area or hall to the basement, though if Elaria wished to keep a key out of sight, the vast mansion would hold a plethora of potential hiding places.
The Master simply smiles at Falenas's question, only offering in response, "Only that every moment that passes is another piece of food the rats can devour." Once everyone has retrieved their gear and readied for potential combat, the party descends the nearby staircase.
The basement steps of Elaria's mansion lead to a stone passage that ends in a rather plain wooden door. You know that beyond the door is a large larder filled with all manner of cheese, grains, meat, and produce; normal rats could probably live like royalty for months on all the food within. The sight of it in this context is certainly odd; come to think of it, you've never even seen this door closed before.
Approaching the door, Ryona briefly turns her head back to Elaria- feeling like a child whose parent watched them clean up after a pet to assure that they did it right. She sighs and relaxes. Why wouldn't she watch? This should be far more exciting than reading a book, and she's not in any danger.
She completes her turn toward the others. "No points for trying to divine the best answer. Why lock a door when rats are what you're keeping in?" She simply attempts to open the door by the handle, expecting it to not open. "Just try whatever comes to mind."
It was six months ago that Elaria Feywing, known throughout the Kingdom of Skylark as The Master, took in her newest class of pupils. The old elf woman's skills in magic, combat, and survival are legendary. She is credited with the training of Marigold the Brave, who slew the infamous great blue dragon Diraxthese, and Blouton Buttertree, who closed the Demon Portal of Nargoth, along with so many other famous heroes. Of all the would-be treasure seekers, mercenaries, and do-gooders that came across her doorstep begging for her wisdom, only six made the cut of her critical eye.
Our Party:
Falenas Sarric: High Elf Warlock (The Archfey)
Yarnick Weyer: Stout Halfling Fighter
Maelfearance: Human Wizard
Noah Rostron: Human Sorcerer (Draconic Bloodline)
Ryona Westfellow: Human Cleric (Order Domain)
Yevele: Human Monk
OOC: With your first post, introduce your character to their fellow pupils. Describe your character's apperance, and consider describing things that the other characters have possibly noticed about them in the six months they have spent training together with Elaria. Why did your character come to The Master's mansion before beginning their life of adventure?
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Yevele is a fairly large human female, weighing 200 lbs and standing 6'2" tall. With her auburn hair, one would think she would stand out in most crowds, but, seems to have an ability to blend into the background in many situations. Yevele also moves with a nimbleness that seems to be a contrast to her large frame. During combat training, she often prefers to make people miss by moving rather than block the attacks. She only has two outfits, both of which are identical consisting of black cotton pants and a black shirt embossed with a dark moon. Her nose appears to have been broken several times already, giving her face a less than pleasing appearance. Her personal space is always kept in a neat and orderly fashion. She rarely leaves the room without her staff that is as tall as she is.
Her personality is a bit rough, as she has a tendency to blurt out what she is thinking in an almost antagonistic manner, unaware of the effect this has on other people. Yevele will also share bits of wisdom that Lao-Te, the head monk in her monastery would share. Despite her rough manner, Yevele does care about her fellow students, even going so far as to make calligraphic name plates for each person to hang over their bed.
When asked why she had come to The Master's mansion her reply always is that Lao-Te had requested that she come her to further her training.
Jarnick Weyer is a younger halfling with chestnut hair and distinguishable sideburns, he is hearty for a halfling, standing at 3’6 and 40 odd pounds, still, he is agile and has quick reflexes. He used to fight with heavy chain mails, but while it was good against petty thief and refugee-turned bandits, the Master deems it too slow against trained individuals. Jarnick suffered at first with this new fighting style that requires skill and techniques, as he himself wasn’t trained, but he soon overcame it, both because of his innate dexterity and his diligence to go the extra mile, you could sometimes see him training by himself deep at night or early in the morning.
Jarnick is quite amicable but impetuous at times, he is also fairly inquisitive and has these deep brown watchful eyes (especially when looking at Noah), and he’s forthright about the reason of it. Jarnick grew up with his widowed mom in a small town next to nowhere, he was blessed with some kindhearted townspeople, he lived a happy and healthy childhood. The town enjoyed peace and harmony up until a stone miner found some shards of gem near the village, the village started to grow rapidly with influx of nearby peasants, either to be miners or thieves, and like the smell of blood to sharks, the fortune draws bandits to this now rich town. And that’s also why he’s here, after realizing his untrained self isn’t going to be of help for long, he arrived at The Master’s mansion, to become better suited at protecting his villagers, and to learn to train others alike.
Most first notice her short, fine wavy red hair. She stands as tall as the average male at 5'6" with youthful, light ruddy skin. With a look to you, she goes straight to your eyes, unwavering in her confident gaze, waiting for you to introduce yourself. She has a stern posture with her hands at ease to her sides, and lean physique. Her common brown and white clothes include simple gloves and covers up to the neck while mildly loosely fitting to her form. Signs of repair dot her trousers and sleeves from a long life of use and care. Several small, mostly healed scars mark her forehead and left face- nothing resembling a weapon's cut or animal's claw, but more than a common person should have. She offers her hand when you do approach her with an introduction. Her voice is smooth and clear, slightly elevated in volume, as though giving practiced effort to her speech. "Ryona Westfellow of Margreve."
Though most are busy, Ryona is especially so. When she isn't studying, she's doing exercises. When not training, she's taking on chores, often helping others. When she bores of that, she's practicing arts or craft or keeping to her room. It makes it difficult to get to know her. She's not unfriendly, just focused- going so far as to pay more attention to her surroundings while waiting, looking for anything that might be amiss. Getting her attention often involves working at a task together- and then she talks, prompted or not. Then she is honest and open, talking of her late siblings and travels to other lands with her mother before she was imprisoned.
She passionately talks about the role of a community and how an individual should contribute to it. "It's really what separates us from beasts," she makes sure everyone understands, "and the healthiest community is built on responsibility. It's a lot to ask, but a person doesn't deserve a good community, they have to help build and keep it. Or... they'll bring it down. And that's what we exist for. To help deal with the beasts against society, within and without."
(She might have grown closer to some more than others, pending all introductions)
The others should easily see Ryona's ability in combat. She exudes confidence in her martial prowess and skill with divine magic. The spiritual power she shares in the most extreme training exercises gives a surge of inner strength, inspiring even the most timid into sudden energetic action. With mace and spear, she makes short work of training dummies and offers a tough opponent in sparring. Not once, however, had anyone felt her healing magic. "Don't ask for divine healing. You receive it only when you really need it. Trust me, you don't want to need it. If... when you do, I'll do everything I can for you. Promise you'll do the same?"
At 5'6'' and weighing 114 lbs, Falenas Sarric stands taller than other high elves but just as thin. His long black hair tied in the back frames his light brown skinned face. He will greet you with green eyes and a warm smile. You won't get much out of him in normal conversation , as he rarely speaks first, but if you strike an interesting research subject for him (mostly arcana related things), it will be difficult to shut him up. Once or twice you may have caught him talking extensively about the Sarric wizards and their deeds. Even if he talks about them with passion and admiration, if you're insightful enough you'll notice that there's a little bit of sadness when he does it. When asked about why is he training with The Master, he will just tell you that he has to get better.
During these 6 months you have seen him as very well behaved, showing respect to his peers and mostly to Master Feywing. During combat training you've been surprised with the powerful blows that he delivers with his quarterstaff, although he can't quite take a hit. Even in training he is taking notes, watching carefully Yevele's technique with her staff. Outside of lessons he will diligently contribute to house chores and when all is done you'll find him reading in the library or his quarters. The thing that has probably caught your attention the most is that he doesn't tolerate mistakes very well. Either in academic or combat contexts, if he fails in a task he will put on a serious face and close up, overthinking what he did and not talking to anyone, many times The Master or one of you has had to snap him out of this trance.
The 5'10" and 172 pounds frame of Noah Rostron seems to saunter even during march, exuding a seemingly impenetrable confidence (whether this is a legitimate expression or merely a facade spurred on by his charismatic attributes is up to you). He is easy to please and easy to converse with, bearing an outgoing personality when appropriate - he is quite reverent of aspects of high society due to a rough upbringing, but has found the best way to navigate the world is skin deep. Though he does not understand his Draconic ancestry, it used to somewhat alarm him to perform his arcane abilities around strangers, but him and those around him have become accustomed to his spellcasting. His veins run white with ice and his eyes burn with an ominous red, as he mutters incantations in fluent Draconic. The effect fades once the spell has been cast, but he feels an impulse of greed and trickery whenever he exerts himself in his casting ability - he trades power the increasing influence of the spirit of the White Dragon within him.
Locks of curly blonde hair hang comfortably just below his shoulder, with thin lips and light green eyes easily stretching into a warm grin. He stands with some muscle, and has trained himself in the use of a set of heirloom daggers and hand-to-hand combat when his spellcasting fails him. Noah has fashioned a wand from rare mahogany wood that he now uses as his spellcasting focus. He wears whatever decent garb he can find and currently favors an olive green vest with a cream colored shirt below, and a pair of unremarkable brown trousers.
After encounters and training he is temporarily withdrawn socially, perhaps telling more of his ancestry to those with an insightful mind - he has made fast friends with those more sociable in the group, and is deeply respectful to his superiors. It is again difficult to determine if this is indicative of an underlying intent to dispose of them or a genuine admiration - his charm is used as convenient, and prefers to hop from job to job to earn his pay, wary of staying with one provider for too long. He talks little of his early childhood, with the prevailing story changing slightly periodically. Despite this, he speaks frequently of his teenage exploits winding through dangerous streets and his harrowing dealings with guild-masters and ruthless gangs. Though he is unflinchingly friendly on average, has yet to see if his loyalty will be fully earned by his companions.
Despite his confidence, he is internally yearning to improve his abilities - he figures it is better to delay his debut during training with Master Feywing than meet an embarrassing end without proper initiation.
At first glance, Maelfearance is a wretched creature. He is gaunt, dressed in little more than rags and shackled. Despite all that he carries himself with an air of nobility and seemingly is unbothered by the state of things. Most are likely to initially keep a certain distance from such a person, even more so once his tendency to seemingly talk to nothing is noticed. While training with Marigold the Bold, however, it becomes apparent that this unlikely student is intelligent and driven. And perhaps crazy. His belief that he is forgotten by death, that he talks to ghosts and spirits, and that his goal is to revenge a 100 year old grievance and to raise his beloved wife from the grave seems to convince most that he is indeed insane. Yet dragons walk the earth, magic can determine the flow of rivers, and heroes arise daily. Who is to say?
Maelfearance is aloof but not haughty, keeps his own council but more than willing to share his insights and wisdom when requested or useful. Over the months, training together, it becomes apparent that while Maelfearance would never show signs of affection, nor speak words of such to the other students, he does consider them to his tribe and that he would scourge the earth for them...
(I think I provide most the details already in the PM thread so a bit shorter here...)
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Over the last half-year you've learned that Elaria Feywing is intense, but fair and encouraging, her teaching almost as extraordinary as the knowledge that guides it. Though The Master is over eight centuries old, her elf blood keeps her thin, lithe, and youthful, which allows her to enforce your rigorous training regimen. You have each been learning different skills in magic, combat, wilderness survival, exploration, and more, but you all take your meals together.
Today, you sit at a long dining table enjoying a hot breakfast together. Halfway through the meal, Elaria puts down her porridge spoon and stands up, looking you all in the eye. Her golden hair frames her green orbs, and she cracks a smile as she begins speaking.
"It is time for your first real test in combat. We have a rat infestation in the basement. It may not sound like much, but these are not your everyday rats; as big as a dog, they are, and as dangerous as any creature that size that's hungry. I managed to contain them within the larder, but they'll soon eat through all our supplies and the door itself unless you get down there to exterminate them."
Her green eyes twinkle with mischievous delight as she adds, "I also seem to have misplaced the key to the larder after locking them in, so you will have to get through the door and past the barricade I set up before you can get to the rats."
The Master sits back down in her chair and puts a spoonful of porridge to her lips. Before actually eating she looks up and says with a wink, "That's your cue to head down to the basement."
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Yevele quickly eats a couple more spoonfuls of porridge before grabbing her staff and heading toward the door, muttering under her breath "Rodents of unusual size, I didn't think they existed." She waits at the top of the stairs for the rest of her party to join her, hoping that one of them has a lock pick set. The Master probably wouldn't be too happy if they broke the door down.
While waiting for the rest of her classmates to join her, Yevele began to meditate and try to center herself before the work begins. As Lao-Te would say, "a clouded mind leads to clouded fighting."
Noah remains talkative and rather amiable throughout the meal, eating at a moderate pace and stopping briefly to thank Master Feywing for the meal (a habit he has developed out of politeness, if she is annoyed by it he does not take notice). He grins slightly as she relays the predicament to the group, merely nodding in acknowledgement. The sorcerer scarfs down the rest of his meal and stands, patting the sheathe of one of the three daggers he carries constantly.
"An early morning spar with giant rodents? Sounds entertaining enough. I'll fetch the rest of my gear and meet you all back here."
With that, Noah retreats to his quarters and gathers the rest of his things. On the way back to the dining room, he casts Minor Illusion to produce a short fiddle tune which he hums alongside. Once he reaches the dining room, he dispels the illusion and returns to the group, taking a seat as he waits for the others to prepare themselves for the delve into the basement.
Ryona smiles with delight matching Elaria's- their teacher thought enough of them to test them against a real threat. She stands up even as the Master winks. "I'll be ready in twelve minutes. Take care of the door if you want, but please don't go through the barricade without me!"
With that, she starts to run to her room to change into her armor, but turns after only a couple strides. "Actually, I'll just grab my armor and get it on along the way. See you there in a minute." She leaves her porridge half-finished and vanishes to the quarters to take off her regular clothes to haphazardly throw chainmail on, strapping it together on along the way to the larder door, pack of her essential gear ready to go loosely over her shoulder. As she walks down the hall from the quarters, she struggles to don the armor as the pack gets swung around herself, her excitement slowly fading in the effort. If she sees someone along the way- "Oh, can you help hold this for me while I get this on?" Her pack weighs 37 pounds.
Falenas has been eating slowly, more focused on his thoughts than anything else. As soon as The Master finishes talking, he quickly stands up and forgets about his food. Bowing exaggerately he speaks: "Of course Master, is there any more information that could help us carry out this task or is this all we need to know?". While he's talking, you may notice that he is terrified that he may be talking out of place.
If Elaria doesn't give them more information, Falenas will go to his quarters to get his gear and then he'll go to the door where the rest of the party is. He'll help Ryona with her pack if he crosses paths with her.
While Noah is strolling back to the main dining hall, he will briefly stop to assist Ryona, holding the pack as she dons her armor.
"This is an awful lot of fuss to slay a pack of hungry rats."
Ryona remains focused on her armor, slowing further to continue donning it. "Thanks Noah. They've probably been nibbling at each other's feces if they're that hungry. I'd rather not have one of them sink their teeth in."
Just now managing to pull the armor down over her waist, she takes a few easy breaths, picking up her pace as she adjusts it. "Some people make a living hunting big rats- they're adventurers too. The sewer patrol." She chuckles light-heatedly. "For a first run, the larder is a lot nicer than sewers. We're pretty lucky."
(re)Edit: She'll take her pack back after a minute, with Ryona continuing to don the armor, which will take 8 more minutes when she gets to the larder door three minutes after the Master makes her declaration.
At the mention of rats Maelfearance stops feeding Rat the bit of porridge that was on his finger and instead slips the rat into a pocket of his tattered robes. "It won't be a bother at all," he says, turning his head to the left where nobody at all was. "I'm sure it's just a bit of a test to make sure we're ready."
Standing and taking up his staff, the wizard straightens his clothing and gives a brief nod and smile to the vacant air to his left. Turning his attention to the table and those already starting to scramble away he merely says "I will meet you there," and then heads off towards the larder.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
When everyone is assembled at the top of the stairs (except Malefearance, who is already in the basement), Yevele looks around and asks "Anyone know how to pick a lock?"
"Let's go talk to Malefearnce and figure out how we are going to attack these figures. Perhaps Yarnick and I should take the lead, with Ryona behind us and the spell casters in the rear?"
Once in front of the pantry, Yevele looks at the door to figure out how to open it without breaking it (assuming now one can pick a lock). Are the hinges on our side of the door?
(Somehow I didn't see Siyaj's post, editing...)
With a shake of the head to Yevele, she continues to don her armor. She only spares glances around the space in front of the pantry door in the effort.
"She mis-placed it somewhere for us to find. Go on, look around for it (investigation), or maybe the Master might give us some hints if you ask the right questions. If we haven't found it by the time I get this on, then I'll start looking for it too. If you want to be the one to open it, that's fine by me."
Perception while donning armor (assuming this happens over the course of a minute rather than the usual, giving most of her attention to donning her armor): 18 (edit after Jarnick offers help- if perception can have advantage from aid, here's 2nd roll): 22
Jarnick already has his shield and rapier on his side, long bow and quiver resting behind his chair, along with the smear of thin sweat on his forehead suggest that this was a morning train day. Unlike some of the others, Jarnick established the habit early on to carry weapon at the breakfast table, after all, neither himself nor the whole group has a chance against The Master.
Also a morning routine, Jarnick rolls his eye to Noah’s gushing attitude.
Jarnick stands up abruptly as Elaria lays down their first mission, almost knocking down the chair, “It will be done, master Feywing.” Unintentionally glances at Maelfearance’s rat.
Jarnick nods to Yevele, “I can take the lead, but I’m no good at picking locks.” And to Ryona, “Alright, I’m not good at searching things, but I can certainly help.”
OOC: Fantastic first rounds of posting, everyone. Those great introductions have given you all Inspiration. Inspiration can be used one time to grant advantage to an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw. Because I usually roll saving throws to save time, you can give that roll advantage after the fact, but for an attack roll or ability check, you must state that you are using Inspiration in the same post that the roll is made.
You can only have one "Inspiration Die" at a time, so save it for a roll where Inspiration is needed, but don't hang onto it for too long.
Eagle-eyed glances from Ryona and Jarnick spot no sign of a key in the dining area or hall to the basement, though if Elaria wished to keep a key out of sight, the vast mansion would hold a plethora of potential hiding places.
The Master simply smiles at Falenas's question, only offering in response, "Only that every moment that passes is another piece of food the rats can devour." Once everyone has retrieved their gear and readied for potential combat, the party descends the nearby staircase.
The basement steps of Elaria's mansion lead to a stone passage that ends in a rather plain wooden door. You know that beyond the door is a large larder filled with all manner of cheese, grains, meat, and produce; normal rats could probably live like royalty for months on all the food within. The sight of it in this context is certainly odd; come to think of it, you've never even seen this door closed before.
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Approaching the door, Ryona briefly turns her head back to Elaria- feeling like a child whose parent watched them clean up after a pet to assure that they did it right. She sighs and relaxes. Why wouldn't she watch? This should be far more exciting than reading a book, and she's not in any danger.
She completes her turn toward the others. "No points for trying to divine the best answer. Why lock a door when rats are what you're keeping in?" She simply attempts to open the door by the handle, expecting it to not open. "Just try whatever comes to mind."