|
Founded hundreds of years ago as a mainly eladrin-human joint effort, the Academy of the Lake is a much more impressive sight than the other colleges of magic scattered around Noremien. Its walled grounds are the better part of a mile in diameter, and within are found dormitories, specifically warded and reinforced structures for magical studies, trials and experiments, smaller buildings containing classrooms and alchemical laboratories, as well as numerous other residential, administrative and scholarly edifices. All white marble, they are arrayed neatly around the great square in the very centre of the complex, a veritable feat of dwarven craftsmanship in itself. Dead centre of that square, in turn, stands a statue, over twenty feet tall, depicting a robed female; in one arm, she is holding a large, ornate tome, while she is shading her eyes with her other hand, gazing southwest. A symbol resembling an eye from which spring the rays of a star is prominently engraved in the cover of the tome. The largest building of the Academy is situated directly north of the square. If the pursuit of arcane knowledge were a religion, the Sanctum of Ioun might be its cathedral: a white, towering, T-shaped structure, its nave low compared to the vaguely elliptical transept rising in a graceful curve, adorned by a spire easily reaching another one hundred and fifty feet skywards. With the distant Shielding Mountains looming behind it under a reddening evening sky, one might indeed think it a sacred place of religious meaning; it was, however, constructed largely for practical reasons, containing the Academy's largest auditorium as well as the White Room, a single chamber taking up the entirety of the transept wherein meetings such as the Mages' Council's are held and Ravic Carthaune occasionally receives visitors for whom he sees fit to go the extra distance – as is the case with the seven adventurers whose presence at the Academy he has requested. Having arrived at the Academy over the course of the day, you were shown your – rather lavishly furnished – guest quarters in one of the residential buildings usually reserved for Academy staff and told to arrive here, in one of the antechambers of the White Room, one hour before sunset. The marble ceiling curves gently some forty feet overhead; together with the high, arched windows set in the eastern wall at regular intervals, there is a sense of being outdoors, somehow, even within these four walls. This impression is furthered by a soft breeze blowing in through the windows, carrying with it the smells and quiet sounds of a deepening autumn evening. Outside, green fields and a small forest can be seen, the Sanctum casting long shadows that almost stretch to the encircling walls at some points. Beyond, the setting sun lights a thousand tiny fires on the Lake of Mitback and sets golden flame to the distant Shielding Mountains. It is a profoundly serene scene. Much of the northern wall of the antechamber is taken up by two large double doors, wrought of some dark steel that contrasts the white marble of the surrounding walls sharply. To one side of the doors stands a bald human, his arms folded in the sleeves of his robes. He greeted each of you by name as you entered and informed you that Carthaune was in a meeting still; how much longer the High Mage would be thus occupied he regretfully couldn't say, and bade you make yourselves comfortable while you waited, indicating a number of cushioned benches running along either side of the room. Now, he is watching the chamber with a peaceful expression, remaining almost perfectly still. Except, perhaps, for the conversation of some of the guests, the chamber is quite silent, the magic lamps on the western wall giving off light, but no sound. In perhaps half an hour, the sun will set. A game approaches! Post format will be the usual: name in bold, IC text unformatted, OOC stuff in italics. Whenever you attempt anything that involves numbers please be sure to post them all. Include your character sheet in your first post; if your character grants bonuses to nearby allies (e.g. the warlord's initiative bonus), or anything else along these lines, a short list of such effects would also be appreciated. Immediate interrupt/reaction powers, and when you wish to use them, are best specified in your stat block. Finally, everybody please pick one of the following colours: green, yellow, white, blue, cyan, violet, orange. First come, first serve! (And yes it is for OOC purposes. Your DOOM will not be decided by your choice of colour.) Our current, intrepid cast: Apis, minotaur fighter/Shock Trooper/Indomitable Champion Cipher, warforged artificer/Battle Engineer/Avangion Landra Tirsul, eladrin hybrid (fighter/ranger)/Blade Dancer/Winter Sovereign Queen Marianna of Mandala, human cleric/Paragon of Victory/God-Emperor Sariel, eladrin mage/Enigmatic Mage/Feyliege Vihn, hengeyokai psion/Thrallherd/Cosmic Soul Our former, marginally less intrepid cast: Annetta Voss, human sorcerer/Primordial Channeler Alagand of Everleaf, elf avenger of Tiamat/Ghost of Eventide Badger, elf druid/Blightbeast Borok Stormspeaker, dwarf invoker of Kord/Hammer of Vengeance Calderos Flowing-Rock, minotaur fighter/Dreadnought Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven, half-elf wizard/Spellstorm Mage Elliott Lamb, human ranger/Jack-of-All-Trades Sir Jayendra Bahamudasa, deva invoker/Divine Oracle/Soul of the World Lorn Ardnen, human runepriest/Hammer of Vengeance Merith, hamadryad cleric of Melora/Soul Guide Padisha, deva hybrid (invoker/wizard)/Flame of Hope Petra M'orderial, half-elf paladin/Hospitaler Rousill "Oblomov" Vreaux, eladrin bard/Summer Rhymer Roland Ca'Nathas, elf ranger/Battlefield Archer Taaliala Flamekissed, elf fighter/Pit Fighter/Heir of Siberys Taldrel Darlhunt, half-elf warlord/Combat Veteran Yuriel Ki-Amar, genasi warlord/Freedom Fighter/Destined Scion As Carthaune is a busy man, you folks can post impressions of your companions-to-be and just talk among yourselves for now or whatever you'd like to do. When everyone's settled in and accounted for, things will commence in earnest. Our former recruitment thread may be found here, which I would like players to keep an eye on/bookmark for purposes of OOC discussion! There's also an IRC channel for this game on irc.synirc.net by the name of #septemberprocession, where players can discuss tactics and such, though readers are also welcome. MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 23:34 on Oct 24, 2018 |
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 04:27
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 19, 2024 20:58 |
|
|
Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Coreladdabar of Lockhaven IV declines to sit. No need to show such weakness here at this most important function. Nay, standing suits him just fine. He carefully surveys the other individuals waiting in the White Room. In turn, if they were to examine him, they would see a young, nearly six foot tall half-elf. His somewhat smug and bemused expression betrays his confidence and feeling of self-importance. His long golden hair, perfectly straight, cascades down his shoulders and over his rich, perfectly tailored garments. The wizard wears a tight doublet, made from the finest velvets, with fanciful trim that could be nothing other than gold. His lithe, behosened legs terminate in fanciful pointy-toed low boots, of course in the most current style. Around his waist rests a thin belt with numerous silvery decorations. It is looped through itself and hangs nearly to his knee. At his side is mounted a small, nondescript bag. A flowing green cape hangs from his shoulders and brushes the ground near his feet; perhaps an homage to his elven heritage. A circlet rests upon his head, with what appear to be several semiprecious gems mounted within its circumference. The half-elf's sharp features and smooth, hairless face would be considered by many as attractive. Coreladdabar allows a smile to escape from his lips as he waits patiently for the audience with Ravic.  pre:
Allies within 10 squares receive a +1 diplomacy bonus (racial). Allies within 10 squares receive a +1 insight bonus (racial). Allies within 10 squares receive a +1 initiative bonus (racial). edit: minor wording change. Stormtrooper fucked around with this message at 23:56 on May 15, 2009 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 04:52
|
|
Class & Level Wizard 12
Paragon Path Spellstorm Mage
Race Half-Elf
Alignment Lawful Good
Height 5' 11"
Weight 150 lb
Age 27
Deity Corellon
Size Medium
Speed 6 squares
Vision Low-light
Weapon Proficiency Dagger, Quarterstaff
Armor Proficiency Cloth
Initiative 7 (+1 Helm of Battle)
Maximum Hit Points 67 (+10 Toughness)
Bloodied 33 (+5 Toughness)
Surge Value 16
Surges/Day 7
|
Alagand Alagand leaned against a corner, his arms folded. He was uncomfortably aware that while most of these adventurers recognized one another's names, his real name (by which he had been introduced) was unfamiliar to all of them. He was particularly interested in meeting M'ordereal, who he'd heard had defeated and subsequently befriended Mauzreaf, leader of the Viridian Scourge, the brigands among whom Alagand had been raised. Alagand was eager to find out what had become of Mauzreaf, and whether he had spoken to M'ordereal of Thalindil, Alagand's father, who had been Mauzreaf's lieutenant (technically anyway; many suspected that Thalindil was the true power behind the Viridian Scourge). Alagand was also eager to speak with Landra Tirsul, along side of whom he had fought on several occasions, but masked, as Varak the Shadowstalker. He had never stayed to speak with her after they had successfully defeated a would-be assassin, or driven demons back through an abyssal gate opened by a foolish warlock, so he did not have much of a sense of her personally, but he would certainly be glad to fight beside the Cold Wind again. To explain himself to her seemed hopelessly awkward, though. How do you start that kind of conversation? he wondered, "Hi I'm actually that mysterious vigilante, Varak the Shadowstalker. Nice backswing you had against that balruga..." doesn't quite work, I think. Who were the others? There was Coreladdabar, a wizard of some repute. Alagand had heard this fellow's name from Daggard Keep to Dorn. Unusual to see a man as well-traveled as Alagand himself. He certainly looked the part of a hero who had (as people said) scoured evil from every corner of Utinmar, confident and grand. Annetta Voss. Alagand had heard of her as well, but only very recently. This was odd. A warlock of her power did not simply spring out of nowhere; that meant that this young girl was very good at lying low. Alagand wondered what reasons she had for having been so scarce before the Eclipse; perhaps they had some things in common. And of course, Alagand had been looking forward to seeing Roland Ca'Nathas in person. Of all of the adventurers whose tales had reached Alagand's ears, Ca'Nathas was somehow the one that Alagand had been certain of finding on this expedition. Perhaps it was that he seemed to exemplify everything that humans expected of the elves, both good and bad. Perhaps it was simply that he was said to be one of the best trackers, or that he didn't seem the sort to be left out of an expedition of this sort. In any case, if his skill with the bow matched his reputation, then this party would certainly be a force to be reckoned with. Tarldrel Darlhunt was not a name that Alagand had heard. He was apparently a guard captain of some sort, and he had a watchful and competent manner about him. Well, thought Alagand, I'll find out plenty about him soon enough. It was curious how many of the assembled adventurers bore fey blood. Did this say something about the nature of their tasks? About Carthaune's prejudices? Or was it merely a coincidence? Perhaps Carthaune would say a few words about this when he finally showed up. Feeling slightly awkward, Alagand tried to appear relaxed and unconcerned as he waited for someone else to break the silence. I'll take blue, please Description: Height: 5'11", Weight: 165, Eyes: Green, Hair: Black The most distinctive feature of this elf's appearance are the prominent dragon tattoos on his face. The tattoos are done in greyscale, one on his forehead, one over each cheekbone, and one on the back of each hand. Anyone knowledgeable about dragons can tell that the one on his forehead is a green dragon, those on his cheekbones are white and black, and on his hands are red and blue. Alagand is tall (for an elf) and heavily built (for an elf) - he could almost pass as human, save for his angular face and narrow, predatory eyes. pre:Alagand of Everleaf Race: Elf Class: Avenger of Tiamat Paragon Path: Ghost of Eventide Background: Criminal Alignment: Good +2 STR: 15 = 14+1 +1 CON: 12 = 11+1 +5 DEX: 20 = 15+2+2+1 +0 INT: 11 = 10+1 +5 WIS: 21 = 16+2+2+1 +0 CHA: 9 = 8+1 HP: 92 Healing Surges: 8 Surge Value: 23 Speed: 7 Initiative: +11 AC: 29 = 10 +6 level, +3 armor, +5 Dex, +5 Armor of Faith Fortitude: 21 = 10 +6 level, +2 Str, +1 class, +2 item Reflex: 24 = 10 +6 level, +5 Dex, +1 class, +2 item Will: 25 = 10 +6 level, +5 Wis, +1 class, +2 item, +1 armor Skills Acrobatics +11 = 6 level, +5 Dex *Arcana +6 = 6 level, +0 Int *Athletics +13 = 6 level, +2 Str, +5 trained Bluff +5 = 6 level, -1 Cha Diplomacy +5 = 6 level, -1 Cha Dungeoneering +11 = 6 level, +5 Wis Endurance +7 = 6 level, +1 Con Heal +11 = 6 level, +5 Wis History +5 = 6 level, +0 Int Insight +11 = 6 level, +5 Wis Intimidate +5 = 6 level, -1 Cha Nature +13 = 6 level, +5 Wis, +2 race *Perception +18 = 6 level, +5 Wis, +5 trained, +2 race *Religion +11 = 6 level, +0 Int, +5 trained *Stealth +20 = 6 level, +5 Dex, +5 trained, +2 background, +2 item Streetwise +5 = 6 level, -1 Cha *Thievery +16 = 6 level, +5 Dex, +5 trained Feats Sneaky Accuracy Sneak of Shadows Ritual Caster Closing Pledge Improved Armor of Faith Uncanny Dodge Polearm Gamble Heavy Blade Opportunity Rituals Gentle Repose Silence Eye of Alarm Raise Dead Remove Affliction At-Will Powers Bond of Pursuit Radiant Vengeance Encounter Powers Elven Accuracy (racial) Sneak Attack +3d6 (multiclass) Channel Divinity Avenging Echo Sequestering Strike Inexorable Pursuit Shadow Hand Attack Daily Powers Aspect of Might Silver Shadow (utility) Executioner’s Cloak Wrath of the Divine (utility) Temple of Shadow River of Life (utility) Twilight Escape (utility) Equipment +3 Repulsion Githweave outfit +3 Glaive of Terror +2 Symbol of Victory +2 Elven Cloak Strikebacks +1 Flameburst Dagger Backpack -Bedroll -Flint and steel -Rations, trail (10 days) -Rope, silk (50 ft.) -Sunrods (2) -Waterskin -Focus for Eye of Alarm (100gp) -Arcane material components (100gp) Pouch, belt -Thieves’ Tools -36 gp Nimlach fucked around with this message at 18:33 on Nov 30, 2009 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 05:53
|
|
|
Annetta - I'll snag me green. Waiting in the ante-chamber, Annetta finds herself a spot on the bench nearest the doors and sits herself there. Legs crossed, elbows resting on knees, her chin caught in the cup of her hands, the red-headed Warlock waits and watches. She's been here long enough to get an impression at least of her fellows. Clothed in loose white linen, an outfit that was as simple as it was comfortable. In her experiences, she has found those who put forth airs through their clothing to be, more often then not, insufferably self-absorbed. It is part of her jaw grindingly agonizing experience here. Mages have done far more to cement that position within her mind then anyone else. Eventually though, curiosity got the best of her. Her thirst for knowledge was a thirst that she was coming to realize would never truly be sated. "Alagand is it? I am curious, what exactly those tattoos represent? I mean, I can recognize what they are, and they are truly an interesting feature, but the meaning behind them eludes me. I just find it interesting that you would go to the effort that you seem to have for them is all." Coreladdabar, whom she would be calling Corel rather then trying to get her tongue to work out the awkward name, of course fitted her imaginings of a Wizard pretty much to a T. If pushed to describe the Half-Elf, she would use such words as "Smug", "Arrogant", and her personal favorite: "Pompous rear end in a top hat with delusions of grandeur". That said, she was still ever the adept social chameleon, and while she thinks poorly of the Wizard, she at least convincingly pretends to be pleasant to his face. Petra is one of those people whom so much has gone just so right that frankly Annetta has the strong sense that one day something very untoward is going to happen to him, if nothing else then to balance the accounting books of creation better. She would almost find his naivete endearing, were it not for the fact that she most expects that one day his good intentions will most certainly come back to bite him in the rear end. She is nothing if not a cynical realist, and she doubts that words will always sway things in the Paladins favor. Alagand is a name that is something of a mystery to her, as much as the face behind it. She'd seen the elf skulking about the place, trying to avoid being in sight almost as much as she. An outcast, a pariah like herself. Little bits gleaned, here and there, but nothing the Warlock would put much stock in. The markings on his face, ones she'd spied when he thought himself alone and unobserved, those however caught her attention. Try as she might though, she did not know what they represented. Dragons of the five chromatic sort, but why did they pick at her curiosity so? Taldrel! Of all the people Annetta might have expected to see here, the Niemund guard was not one of them. Still, she doubted the man would recognize her. She'd been a good, law abiding citizen (except for the occasional bit of well hidden if illicit magic). Books and forgotten secrets had been her purview in those days, and by the time of the Eclipse, she'd been weeks gone from the city. He was, if the tales told were true, a good man with a good head on his shoulders. While she might not trust him with secrets, she would trust him in a fight at least. Annetta is unsure of Roland, for the simple fact that the things she's heard of him sound more like the tales of a braggart then actual accomplishments. For now though, she just simply keeps her suspicions about the arrogant seeming elf to herself. She can always hold judgement later. Landra however was someone she was more familiar with, having been a fixture of some importance of her home in Niemund some years back, the young Warlock finding mention of the Eladrin warrior and her exploits on more than a few occasions. While not personally acquainted with the warrior, she at least has an idea what to expect of her from reading the accounts of the Great War and on. While curious to ask the Eladrin about the Feywild, Annetta keeps that to herself, uncertain of how Landra would react. code:The Transhumanist fucked around with this message at 05:32 on Nov 24, 2009 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 06:11
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel had arrived early - years in the city guard had taught him the importance of punctuality - but all he could do now was wait for Carthaune to finish whatever it was he was doing. And talk to who appeared to be the people he would be working with. They all had an air of experience about them, and Taldrel made his rounds introducing himself to them. They mostly appeared to be either well known or rumored adventures, while his own name was likely unknown outside of Niemund. He had to wonder why he had been chosen. It seemed nobody knew exactly why they had been called there... The first he talked to was a well dressed eldarin swordswoman. She carried herself like a warrior but spoke the way the councilors in Niemund did. Formally, that is. But, also somehow... loud. Taldrel guessed she liked to be the center of attention. He also vaguely remembered stories of an eldarin advisor to Queen Sezarte before the war of whom she matched the description, but he never could judge how old the eldarin were. At any rate, she looked to be able to handle the weapons she bore, and that was enough for him. Standing next to her was a tattooed and armored half-elf who introduced himself as Petra M'orderial. Very polite, with a gentle voice. Taldrel realized he had heard of this man before from a Mitbackian merchant - a paladin of Melora, M'orderial the Merciful he was called, a reputed excellent swordsman and better orator. He seemed anxious, nervous maybe. Whatever was bothering him, Taldrel could wait. No sense fussing over whatever it was if they had to wait for Carthuane. Putting the paladin's tattoos to shame was a paunchy (if an elf can be called that), beady eyed cleric called Alagand. The elf was absolutely covered with what looked like dragon tattoos. Seemed rather tasteless, in Taldrel's opinion. Maybe they meant something to his god. Better not bring it up, Taldrel thought to himself. He seemed like a very serious person, and he wouldn't be here if Carthuane didn't think he was right for the job - whatever it was - but he made Taldrel uneasy. Taldrel could pick out a fighting man, and pegged Roland Ca'Nathas as a fighter from birth immediately. Enigmatic and laconic, Taldrel didn't get much out of Roland except that he was an archer and mercenary of some renown. But he knew that just by looking at him. Still, he seemed trustworthy - Taldrel was sure he could count on Roland's bow in a fight. Who Taldrel originally thought was an academy student turned out to be an invited guest, one of the group. A young half-elf named Coreladdabar who had somehow retained all of the magical powers he had before the Eclipse, and he seemed to be gloating over that fact. Not a good trait. He had an unpleasantly arrogant air about him, which was odd given his boyish face and tasteless, gaudy garb. Maybe it was a wizard thing... Taldrel recognized in him what had once gripped him - wanderlust. Coreladdabar wanted to make a name for himself and didn't hide it well. Still, it was understandable, and he seemed to have a good heart. Taldrel just hoped he didn't do anything rash in the name of heroics. Finally was the only full human among them, a young girl called Annetta Voss. He was surprised to learn that the young girl was in fact a warlock of some power, but more surprised by the fact that she was so open about it. Taldrel himself had lead hunts in the city for warlocks who thought themselves invincible and almighty. Always mad with power and always whole-heartedly evil with delusions of godhood. Every time Taldrel had proven them wrong. Oddly though, he didn't get the same feeling around her as he had around them. They had felt dangerous and unpredictable, she... well he wouldn't have guessed her vocation if she hadn't been so vocal about it. She didn't act like any of the warlocks he had met in the past, but he would keep a watchful eye on her. Maybe he had just met the bads ones. He hoped so. Taldrel takes a seat but does not visibly relax. He wanted to be up and ready to speak with Carthuane as soon as he was ready. Description: Taldrel is a battle hardened half-elf. He is wearing ornate Dwarven chainmail bearing the markings of office of a Niemund Guard Captain, simple but well made clothing and has propped up his spear, shield, helmet and gauntlets against the wall. He stands tall with the posture of a military man and his eyes shine with an intelligent glint. Taldrel Darlhunt http://orokos.com/dnd4e/sheets/2554 Selecting orange. pre:HP: 88/88 AC : 28 MBA: +19 vs AC; 1d8+8 damage (+3d6 on crit) Surge Value: 22 Fort: 26 RBA: +19 vs AC; 1d8+8 damage (+3d6 on crit) [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ] Will: 21 Speed: 5 Action Points: 1 Refl: 25 At-Will Encounter Daily [o] Direct the Strike [ ] Knack for Success [ ] Relentless Wounding [o] Paint the Bulls-Eye [ ][ ][ ] Inspiring Word [ ] Create Opportunity [o] Basic Melee Attack [ ] Race the Arrow [ ] Force of Fellowship [o] Basic Ranged Attack [ ] Aid the Injured [ ] Tactical Shift [ ] On my Mark [ ] Whirling Spear [ ] Reorient the Axis [ ] Shield of Defiance [ ] Running Slash [ ] Gauntlets of Ogre Strength [ ] Driving Spear [ ] Casque of Tactics [ ] Signal the Charge Conditionals Longarm Action: When you spend an action point for extra action, increase melee reach with spear by 1 Skirmishing Presence: When an ally that can see me spends an action point, they may shift 5 squares before or after making their attack. Evil Eye Fetish: An enemy with CA against me takes 3 necrotic when they hit me. Casque of Tactics: When Initiative is rolled, swap results with a willing ally use when: an ally suggests we do so (presumably they have something in mind) Tactical Shift: When an enemy strikes an ally, that ally can shift 6 squares as an immediate interrupt. Range 10. Allow one OA. Trigger on: - any ally under 50% health is struck Shield of Defiance: Spend a healing surge after being crit. Immediate free action. Trigger on: - Any time Taldrel is crit and under 80% health. Clanpot Shake fucked around with this message at 02:26 on May 17, 2012 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 06:15
|
|
|
Alagand Alagand gives Annetta a cautious smile. "Well, the tattoos... it's complicated. They weren't my idea, but I certainly used to be quite proud to carry them. I, ah, I'd rather not... that is to say, I expect that I'll certainly speak of their significance before the evening is over, perhaps after Master Carthaune has had his say?" He bites his lip in consternation, fearing he's offended her. "I don't mean to put you off, but its a little uncomfortable. Have you heard anything about what this task is that we're supposed to be attempting?"
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 06:52
|
|
|
Annetta A shake of her head is her only response for a moment. "No... I have ideas, theories, wild crackpot musings, but nothing concrete that I'd be willing to admit out loud," she said with a faint shrug. "It does amuse me that I am the only full blooded human who seems to have thought this worthy of my efforts, but then, I suppose I am also unique in being one of the few open Warlocks. Or sane ones for that matter."
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 07:27
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial Petra arrived shortly after Taldrel did, thanking Melora for hastening his travel here. He politely stood as each person entered, then seated himself as they sat down. When Coreladdabar remained standing, Petra acknowledged him with a nod, then did likewise. He now stands next to the guard in a relaxed stance, seeking neither to draw attention to himself nor to avoid it. Though he exudes an aura of calm and tranquility and manages to keep a slight smile, he nonetheless appears shiftless and worried, looking around anxiously as he waits for Carthaune's arrival. code:Petra is surprised to meet Taldrel Darlhunt here, surprised only because he's never heard of the man. Has he really been gone from Utinmar that long, or is the man simply not well-known? No matter. They had a nice chat while waiting for the others to arrive. Taldrel bears the markings of a high-ranking officer of Niemund--that much Petra recognized--and he exudes competence, coming across to Petra as a skilled commander. The half-elf obviously is not prone to the sin of pride which plagues so many adventurers--he's content to stalwartly serve his country at home. Alagand certainly doesn't look the part of a good man. Maybe it's the slight skulk inherent in his movements, his intent, predatory gaze, or his powerful build quite unbecoming of an elf. Or maybe it's the array of threatening-looking tattoos covering his head and hands. Petra can't quite place the man - he swears he's heard that voice, or one like it, before. Alagand is definitely reluctant to say much about himself. But Petra's willing to stifle his half-elf curiosity and avoid prying. There's no use pressuring the elf to speak if he doesn't want to, and at any rate, his past isn't terribly important. Petra knows well that even the worst villain can become a force for good. Seeing Landra here is also not much of a surprise to Petra. They've met before briefly in Mitback several years ago, and Petra knows her to be an accomplished swordsman and courtier. She's a respectable and strong-willed eladrin with a good heart. If anything, he's surprised they haven't worked together. Petra heard from some eladrin in the Everleaf that she, too, views her position among the humans as a chance to act as a bridge between disparate peoples - in her case, the eladrin and the humans of Utinmar. He is silently pretty sure that she is the same Landra Tirsul who fought alongside his mother, Maele M'orderial, during the Great War. Petra was eager to greet her. Petra hasn't met very many warlocks - a few that he's fought against have been rather evil, and the ones he's fought alongside have been of questionable motive at best. He's not quite sure what to make of Annetta. She comes across as another selfish fame-seeker, the same kind that have become commonplace and even predatory in the last few months. But he nonetheless admires her for her forthrightness and her confidence, two features which are lacking in most warlocks he's met, and he's sure she's a competent and skilled spellweaver. Pride and cynicism are not virtues. But just about anyone can be shown the light and, in the mean time, Petra is quite content to return her cynicism and scorn with courtesy and kind words. Petra has heard just about everything there is to know about Roland and is happy to finally have his chance to adventure alongside the wiry elf. But in spite of his familiarity with all the legends and tall tales, the elf remains an enigma. Does he have a genuinely good heart, seeking out evil only to prevent harm? Or is he another run-of-the-mill, done-everything, revel-in-glory haughty adventurer like so many others Petra has reluctantly worked with? His exploits with Malthasar the barbarian seem to support the latter hypothesis. But Petra is willing to suspend judgment. Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves. For how little they seem to get along, Petra sees Coreladdabar and Annetta as two sides of the same coin, both of them arrogant and self-absorbed in different ways. It's difficult to get past the outfit Coreladdabar wears, which is certainly too much, and Petra would love to have a little chat with him about the negative consequences of vanity. That gold-trimmed doublet could, at a glance, have fed a starving Syno family for several weeks. Petra takes pains to keep his disapproving eye from manifesting too much toward Corel, but it keeps slipping through. It's a shame, really, because Corel seems like he could be a genuinely nice half-elf. Granting allies a +1 bonus to Diplomacy. Not that it's relevant, since every other half-elf is doing the same drat thing. Aschlafly fucked around with this message at 00:14 on May 9, 2009 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 09:59
|
|
|
Roland Roland came in in his customary gear, travel worn boots, artfully distressed cloak, quiet swagger that set off the swords on his hip just so. He looked like something that might have walked out of a legend, and he knew it. His hair was perfect. He knew that too. The smell of the hearthfire and the wilds clung to him, even in this city somehow. He had an alchemist put the stuff together, a cologne that gave the impression of just having come from some great adventure. His bow commanded much respect and high prices, it was not enough to merely be skilled, but to look and act and smell the part. He had his doubts about this, to begin with, so he’d asked around about his new companions. For his memoirs as much as anything else, while he waited he decided to put together his thoughts in his head for later. As he crossed the campus of the place, his mind wandered to those worthies, their faces floating before him. Taldrel is wound pretty tight. Used to be a guard, from what I hear. Still wears the old colors. City guard is honorable enough, even if I’ve fought with more than a few in my time, but I can’t help but wonder at the perspective of a fella like that. I’ve heard him command, he could be a general in the field. Strange to limit oneself so. I wonder what he’s afraid of? Reminds me a little of Coreladdabar, made a name for himself being the hero of Mitback but he had the sense to leave before that got too stale. There’s the difference. Still, that one doesn’t know the value of hard work, promotion and the like if you ask me. Dresses too fine, even for a mage. Man wants to be respected, has to look the part. Any merchant who knows when to push away from the table can fill out a fine suit and look good, it takes style making worn leathers come off well. Lot of elves in this crew. Alagand is a pureblood, like me. Sneaky git. Man after my own heart, really. Not one to worry about the complexities of moral judgements in the field, even in spite of his divine calling. I think he and I can get along just fine, comes down to it. He knows how to turn a dollar, and he knows what a name means, and more importantly, what it don’t. Almost the opposite of Petra, who is so drat nice I wonder how he ever got into this line of work. Killing things for a living, even evil things, makes a man hard. He’s only half a man, I suppose, and half an elf. Maybe that’s it. I’ve hunted men in my time, some folks need to be put down. Not sure if this one has the heart for it, or maybe more correctly, the soul. Who knows? Maybe I can learn something. The only human with the crew is Annetta, but even she claims to be touched by the fey. To see her in action, I reckon she’s closer to the feywild than I will ever be. The Eladrin live there, are born to it. I wonder what it does to a mortal mind to try to take all that in? It will be interesting to see. Speaking of the Eladrin, we have one truefey with us. Landra has taken up the way of the old swordmasters, and we’re the luckier for it. They are a strange lot, but I can appreciate that dedication to a single thing. Not like they can’t afford it, but really, who can? Another famous one. Didn’t go back to the homeland, either. That’s interesting. People have all kinds of reasons what they do, why they do it. Wonder what hers are? As he steps into the chamber, he makes himself at home. A natural rough grace, a sort of frontier gentility exudes from his every action. He checks his hair in the mirror. Still perfect. He is content, for the moment, to examine the walls of the high chamber. He always liked art, and he liked good art. He figured this was probably that latter category.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 14:22
|
|
|
Landra - Choosing white, since it looks like that hasn't been taken yet. A tall, slim eladrin with long, loosely-worn white hair sat on one of the benches along the western wall, positioned within the uncanny light of the lamps above. Above black scalemail and the curved scabbard of her scimitar, her cape and tabard are bright white, trimmed in shimmering silver and bearing large snowflake crests. Her motif even extended to her face, with its harshly angular lines reminiscent of a remote, sheer cliff. It made her expression look more forbidding than she liked (though she lived with it: even intimidation helped her legend), but her smile was no less genuine for it. It was, after all, a remarkably comfortable bench, and the Academy itself was a beautiful sight at night. Landra returned to herself, letting her gaze fall from the panorama outside the high windows to once more take in the antechamber as the other guests milled about. Shaking loose white hair out of her eyes, she surveyed the room calmly. There were luminaries inside to almost match some remote constellation in the night sky...and so much of the Feywild amongst them. It was...interesting, who the wizard had chosen to seek help from. Alagund's was a face she kept returning to. Not just the odd tattoos, but the constant vague, nagging sense of familiarity. It couldn't be from the face - there was nothing vague about the memorability of that face. But something about the elf's build, his movements, reminded her of a sometime ally that she couldn't help but respect. Who was that masked man in the warlock's basement, anyway? I didn't think demons even had balls, but the way that last one screamed before running back through the gate, that glaive must have hit somewhere tender... Petra was more easily recognised, even if it weren't for the hints of his mother in his face and his demeanour. They had met socially, if not "professionally", and his reputation had preceded him. Maele would be proud of him and the honour to her name, she thought, sizing up the paladin, but working with him will be a challenge. He is a saint, just like his mother, but it's not his place to judge me, and I'm sure I'll have to remind him of this. Coreladdabar, too, she knew, though she hadn't seen him in some time. He could be utterly insufferable, (in his taste in clothing, let alone his behaviour! Or trying to pronounce his name! The Lord of Lockhaven has much to answer for...), but she knew he was a skilled mage even five years ago when they had worked together in Mitback, let alone now after training at the Academy. No surprise that Carthaune had called upon his best student, whatever gods-forsaken land he might have been in at the time. From the familiar, she looked to the strangers. Taldrel, she only knew by reputation, having left the capital before he became truly prominent, but of course she recognised his uniform. It takes a certain sort of man to captain a Guard district in Niemund, and I respect that sort of man. The same sort it takes to save the world? Just maybe... Roland, she had never quite believed was real, but rather a creation of the bards, but if even half the tales were true, he would do this cause some good. She looked forward to seeing the truth behind the tales, whichever way it went. And last, Annetta, she hadn't known at all, for all that she tried to keep tabs on her old home. For all their differences, she felt a certain affinity: this woman had been touched by the Wild. Who knew what that could do to a mortal? She would bear watching, and she was already talking to this...Alagund. The opportunity was not to be missed. Landra stood, striding across the White Room and into the corner shared by her two targets, catching only the tail end of their conversation and addressing the warlock first. "Perhaps...Annetta, yes?...it is the cause that demands worth of the people he called, rather than the other way around. Carthaune does not look the sort to deal in trifles, and neither do any of us." She glanced again at Alagund from her closer vantage point, but even now his face offered no clues. She noted in an aside, her tone almost grumbling at her continued inability to place him, "Though you, Alagund, look damnably familiar." Linked Landra's name in this post to my online sheet. pre:Landra Tirsul Eladrin Hybrid (Hybrid) / Blade Dancer Level 13, Unaligned, 5'11", 145 XP: 39000 Languages: Common, Elven Theme: Noble Background: Eladrin - Noble Birth (+2 to Intimidate) Str 18 ( +4) +16(Starting)+2(Levels 4, 11) Con 12 ( +1) +11(Starting)+1(Level 11) Dex 20 ( +5) +15(Starting)+2(Eladrin)+3(Levels 4, 8, 11) Int 14 ( +2) +11(Starting)+2(Eladrin)+1(Level 11) Wis 14 ( +2) +12(Starting)+2(Levels 8, 11) Cha 11 ( +0) +10(Starting)+1(Level 11) Hit Points Max HP: 95 +12(Con)+13(Hybrid 1)+10(Toughness)+60(Hybrid 13) Bloodied: 47 +47(1/2 HP) Surge: 23 +23(1/4 HP) Surges/Day: 8 +4(Hybrid Fighter)+3(Hybrid Ranger)+1(Con mod) Defenses and Senses AC: 28 +10(Constant)+6(1/2 Level) +3(Earthhide Armor)+3(Counterstrike Armor +3) Fort: 26 +10(Constant)+6(1/2 Level) +1(Fortitude Defense Class Bonus)+1(Paragon Defenses) +3(Amulet of Protection +3)+1(Earthhide Armor)+4(Str mod) Ref: 27 +10(Constant)+6(1/2 Level) +1(Reflex Defense Class Bonus)+1(Paragon Defenses) +3(Amulet of Protection +3)+5(Dex mod) Will: 23 +10(Constant)+6(1/2 Level) +0(Will Defense Class Bonus)+1(Eladrin Will) +1(Paragon Defenses)+3(Amulet of Protection +3)+2(Wis mod) Passive Perception: 25 +15(Perception)+10(Constant) Passive Insight: 25 +15(Insight)+10(Constant) Initiative: 15 +6(1/2 Level)+4(Initiative Misc)+5(Dex mod) Speed: 6 +6(Eladrin) Vision: Low-light Conditional Defenses: AC +1 with DUAL-WIELDING: - Two-Weapon Defense AC +5 without armor: heavy - Dexterity modifier Ref +1 with DUAL-WIELDING: - Two-Weapon Defense Race and Class Features Trance [Eladrin] Meditate aware 4 hours instead of sleep. Eladrin Weapon Proficiency [Eladrin] Proficient with longsword. Eladrin Education [Eladrin] Training in any one additional skill. Eladrin Will [Eladrin] +1 Will; +5 to saving throws against charm. Fey Step [Eladrin] Use fey step as an encounter power. Fey Origin [Eladrin] Your origin is fey, not natural Arcana Bonus [Eladrin] History Bonus [Eladrin] Noble Feature [Hybrid] You gain the noble presence power. Combat Challenge (Hybrid) [Hybrid] Mark targets you attack with fighter powers and gain Combat Challenge Hunter's Quarry (Hybrid) [Hybrid] When using ranger powers, deal bonus damage to your quarry. Hybrid Ranger Reflex [Hybrid] Ranger Fighting Style [Hybrid] Two-Blade Fighting Style (Hybrid) [Hybrid] Wield one-handed weapon as off-hand weapon; gain Toughness as a bonus feat. Level 5 Noble Feature [Hybrid] You gain one common suit of magic armor, weapon, or neck slot item of 6th level or lower. Level 10 Noble Feature [Hybrid] You gain a +2 power bonus to Diplomacy checks and Insight checks. Dual-Blade Action [Blade Dancer] Spend action point to make melee basic attacks with primary and offhand weapon; add Wis mod to damage Dancing Defense [Blade Dancer] If using two melee weapons and you hit twice on your turn, gain +2 to AC and Reflex unti start of your next turn. Feats Hybrid Talent Gain a hybrid talent option for one of your hybrid class entries Toughness Gain 5 additional hit points, 10 at 11th, 15 at 21st Two-Weapon Fighting +1 damage while holding a melee weapon in each hand Skill Training (Acrobatics) Gain training in Acrobatics Weapon Focus (Heavy Blade) Gain +1 damage per tier with Heavy Blades. Improved Initiative +4 to initiative checks Alertness Cannot be surprised, +2 to Perception Scimitar Dance Deal Dex modifier damage on miss Two-Weapon Defense +1 to AC and Reflex while holding a weapon in each hand Weapon Expertise (Heavy Blade) Gain bonus to attack rolls with heavy blades. Paragon Defenses +1 to Fortitude, Reflex, and Will Powers At-Will Combat Challenge [Immediate Interrupt] Twin Strike [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+6 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+6 Hunter's Quarry [Minor Action] Footwork Lure [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+10 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+10 Fey Strike Scimitar +1 - Attack: 14 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+7 Unarmed - Attack: 10 vs. AC, Damage: 1d4+4 Encounter Noble Presence [Move Action] Fey Step [Move Action] Yield Ground [Immediate Reaction] Cut and Run [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+10 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 1d8+10 Unbalancing Dodge [Immediate Reaction] Come and Get It [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. Will, Damage: General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. Will, Damage: Fey Strike Scimitar +1 - Attack: 14 vs. Will, Damage: Unarmed - Attack: 10 vs. Will, Damage: Into the Fray [Minor Action] Cross-Body Parry [Immediate Interrupt] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. Reflex, Damage: 1d8+16 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. Reflex, Damage: 1d8+16 Blades from All Angles [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 3d8+15 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 3d8+15 Fey Strike Scimitar +1 - Attack: 14 vs. AC, Damage: 3d8+12 Unarmed - Attack: 10 vs. AC, Damage: 3d4+4 Second Wind [Standard Action] Action Point [Free Action] Daily Jaws of the Wolf [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 2d8+10 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 2d8+10 Nimble Bladestorm [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 21 vs. AC, Damage: 2d8+10 General's Blade - Attack: 21 vs. AC, Damage: 2d8+10 Fey Strike Scimitar +1 - Attack: 19 vs. AC, Damage: 2d8+7 Unarmed - Attack: 10 vs. AC, Damage: 2d4+4 Victorious Surge [Standard Action] Vicious Scimitar +3 - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 3d8+10 General's Blade - Attack: 16 vs. AC, Damage: 3d8+10 Fey Strike Scimitar +1 - Attack: 14 vs. AC, Damage: 3d8+7 Unarmed - Attack: 10 vs. AC, Damage: 3d4+4 Misleading Bladework [Move Action] Skills Acrobatics: 16 +6(1/2 Level)+5(Trained)+1(Acrobatics Misc) -1(Armor Penalty)+5(Dex mod) Arcana: 10 +6(1/2 Level)+2(Arcana Misc)+2(Int mod) Athletics: 14 +6(1/2 Level)+5(Trained)+0(Athletics Misc) -1(Armor Penalty)+4(Str mod) Bluff: 6 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Bluff Misc)+0(Cha mod) Diplomacy: 10 +6(1/2 Level)+4(Diplomacy Misc)+0(Cha mod) Dungeoneering: 8 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Dungeoneering Misc)+2(Wis mod) Endurance: 6 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Endurance Misc)-1(Armor Penalty)+1(Con mod) Heal: 8 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Heal Misc)+2(Wis mod) History: 10 +6(1/2 Level)+2(History Misc)+2(Int mod) Insight: 15 +6(1/2 Level)+5(Trained)+2(Insight Misc)+2(Wis mod) Intimidate: 15 +6(1/2 Level)+5(Trained)+4(Intimidate Misc)+0(Cha mod) Nature: 8 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Nature Misc)+2(Wis mod) Perception: 15 +6(1/2 Level)+5(Trained)+2(Perception Misc)+2(Wis mod) Religion: 8 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Religion Misc)+2(Int mod) Stealth: 10 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Stealth Misc)-1(Armor Penalty)+5(Dex mod) Streetwise: 11 +6(1/2 Level)+5(Trained)+0(Streetwise Misc)+0(Cha mod) Thievery: 10 +6(1/2 Level)+0(Thievery Misc)-1(Armor Penalty)+5(Dex mod) Proficiencies Weapons Simple Melee [Hybrid] Military Melee [Hybrid] Simple Ranged [Hybrid] Military Ranged [Hybrid] Simple Melee [Hybrid] Military Melee [Hybrid] Simple Ranged [Hybrid] Military Ranged [Hybrid] Armor Cloth [Hybrid Fighter] Leather [Hybrid Fighter] Hide [Hybrid Fighter] Chainmail [Hybrid Fighter] Scale [Hybrid Fighter] Heavy Shield [Hybrid Fighter] Light Shield [Hybrid Fighter] Inventory Weapons Scimitar, Frost Weapon +3 Scimitar, Vicious Weapon +3 Scimitar, Fey Strike Weapon +1 Armor Earthhide Armor, Counterstrike Armor +3 Magic Items Quickhit Braces (heroic tier) Gloves of Recovery (heroic tier) War Ring (paragon tier) Acrobat Boots (heroic tier) Circlet of Authority (heroic tier) Amulet of Protection +3 Bag of Holding (heroic tier) Gear Residuum (Any)(quantity: 945) Tent Everburning Torch Fine Clothing Climber's Kit Adventurer's Kit Other Coin Carried: 4pp, 29gp Stored: Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 23:26 on Jun 9, 2011 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 17:52
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial - calling cyan Petra nods in thoughtful agreement at Landra's words. Yes, someone else who understands that the task before us is an obligation for the capable, not a choice for the willing. He struggles to free himself from his gnawing anxiety, and his eyes fall on Taldrel's spear, propped against the wall. He moves closer to it, his eyes dancing across its haft and point, taking in the craftsmanship. As he speaks, every word of his is carefully crafted, spoken softly but authoritatively, with a medium pitch and in a mildly singsongy manner. A slight Saaranese accent is audible to anyone who notices. It might seem a bit alien, but Petra isn't known as a skilled speaker for no reason. "Sir Darlhunt, if it's not too much, might I ask how a guard captain happens upon such a fine weapon as this one?"
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 20:00
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt "A fine weapon it is, but not exactly happened upon." Taldrel answers, "More like... hunted down. Several years ago as a lieutenant in the Guard I was tasked with arresting a local slum lord known for making a little more profit off his tenants than a landlord should, and through less than legitimate means. The short of it his that he came willingly, but only after myself and a handful of other guardsmen cut down his entourage. This spear belonged to his best man, who I killed single-handedly, and my Captain was kind enough to let me keep it. I've had it ever since." Taldrel glances at the spear with pride as he finishes his story. "But you're far better traveled than I," Taldrel says to the Paladin, "you must have many far more interesting stories."
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 21:03
|
|
|
Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Coreladdabar mingles with the other adventurers in the room, introducing himself and making smalltalk with those who care to converse. Alagand confuses Coreladdabar a bit. He's never seen an elf with such outlandish tattoos and aggressive look. A strange fellow. Annetta, the only human here, seems a little withdrawn. He wonders where her abilities might lie ... Taldrel immediately makes a good impression with Coreladdabar. He looks quite competent and level-headed. Petra is another individual that Coreladdabar at once places some confidence in. He is in control and obviously a realist. A potential friend ... Roland. Well, Coreladdabar has heard of this hero. In fact, the legend's adventures had always inspired the young half-elf. And here he was, in the presence of an elf whom he held in great reverence. What luck! Landra, at last one he knew well. They had cooperated years ago in Mitback, and Coreladdabar certainly had not forgot her precise looks and fey grace. He wondered what she'd been up to all this time. Coreladdabar is not so self-absorbed as not to notice the discreet stares in his direction. He brushes away some worried thoughts and refocuses: He's here in the highest school of magical learning in the lands, ready for an audience with a man he greatly respected. Stormtrooper fucked around with this message at 21:53 on Sep 5, 2008 |
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 21:51
|
|
|
Annetta "Perhaps, perhaps. I do not however hold much with seeming mandatory moralities. But, to the other side of that, maddened anarchy is little better. I do what I feel is the correct choice, and in this, I felt the call was just and the need sincere. I just merely find it telling, and no less amusing, that despite our prominence in the world in both politics and power, that humanity is represented in this group by a would be pariah. One who, in lesser educated parts of the world would throw stones at me, unaware that I could sing songs that would burn the very heart from their chests..." she gazed off a moment, frowning and shaking her head. "But I would not, because what purchase is there in the slaughter of innocents, ignorant mountain hicks as they may or may not be? No profit, no gain. But then, this is why I do not understand my less stable peerage, do not run afoul of the pitfalls that seem so often to snare the weak of mind who try their hand at the Arcane arts." When goaded into a conversation, it appeared Annetta could talk at lengths. This was proven further as she continued, "For those who do not have the sufficient strength of character, a certain force of will, I fully agree that the measured, slow and careful pace of the Wizard's education is the proper path. Oh, sorry, I seem to have blundered off into a tangent again... sorry, I have a tendency to do that when I get distracted or nervous..." a faint, sheepish smile as she went silent once more. Back to passively watching those around her.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 22:14
|
|
|
Alagand Alagand looks delighted by Landra's words, and seems about to say something, but then is distracted by Annetta's ramblings. When is the High Mage getting here, he wonders irritably.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 23:25
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial "I wouldn't say 'more interesting'," Petra says humbly. "For several years, I've been around Westpoint and Syno. If Niemund is anything like those cities, leading city guardsmen must truly be difficult work. The alleys of a city seem a much more threatening place to do battle than the wilds of a forest." He stumbles slightly over the words "do battle", trying to find the combination of words which reminds him the least of bloodshed. He pauses for a second before gesturing to his sword. A large, cruciform hilt is visible, and the blade radiates heat even through its scabbard. "I received this blade as a gift from a Saaranese noble, after some friends and I rescued his daughter from a band of kobolds. He insisted I take it. I was reluctant to possess such a destructive implement at first, but it has served me well. "Of course, the greatest gift was the opportunity Melora gave me to show a few of those misguided creatures the error of their ways." He places great emphasis on the name of his god, as though attempting to deemphasize his own role in the process.
|
|
#
?
Sep 5, 2008 23:46
|
|
|
Annetta Sitting there in a pensive silence, hiding the mirthful smile as they shared their tales of daring and madness, each trying to size up the other. She maintained her studied silence, watching, observing and understanding. There would be time enough to share her exploits, if she wanted to.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 00:45
|
|
|
Roland He should have done more legwork on this one, Roland reflects to himself as he listens to the others chatter in the silence of the great hall. Still, the prestige of such a mission could not be denied. He had worked with more unreliable types than this by half before, this would go rather well. He did wonder, however. Three elves, a true feyborn, two half bloods, and a human who had pledged self and soul to the feywild. Curious indeed.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 00:54
|
|
|
Landra Only a slight tilt of her head suggests the trouble she's having tracing a path through Annetta's rhetoric, but she does eventually find her way to the end. There was an answer to her comment there, lost in a sort of rambling fog of misunderstanding. Was she mad or merely nervous? The eladrin shrugged, turning on a heel to put her back to the corner, facing in towards the imposing inner doors and assuming a sort of aggressive rest, shifting her weight from foot to foor as she keeps an eye out for arrivals. "As you say, it doesn't take a saint to find something here that needs to be done. If we're here, at least the High Mage has an idea what that might be."
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 02:57
|
|
|
Roland finds himself admiring the craftsmanship of the antechamber. At their base, up to about eye level, the walls are plain, albeit flawless white marble; the higher his gaze climbs, though, the more intricate carvings become apparent, the smooth white surface of the marble forming treetrunks, branches and leaves, every little detail chiseled with masterful skill. The curved ceiling, finally, is carved to resemble a canopy of leaves, the tree-walls flowing gracefully together to form an intertwining arch of branches. The way the chamber appears to fade into a forest frozen in stone is nothing short of uncanny; the entire room might well be called a piece of art, and an exquisite one at that. While the actual stonework is undoubtedly the product of dwarven hands, it was clearly inspired and guided by the spirit of the Feyborn, be they eladrin or elves, a rare communion of the two races' skills. Something in the corner of the elf's eye catches his attention: the double doors leading to the White Room are swinging open, surprisingly quietly considering their size. From the great chamber beyond emerge two men, walking at a brisk pace and talking animatedly. One of them, shorter than the other, but scowling considerably more fiercely, wears an uniform bearing the insignia of the Mitbackian city guard. Judging from the fine robes he is wearing, his companion likely is a priest or a mage of some stature, but he bears no marks or symbols clearly identifying him as either. Ignoring the robed human standing guard nearby, the two make straight for the southern door that leads to the Sanctum's main hall and, ultimately, outside. They are clearly incensed about something, the uniformed fellow in particular, and as a result, they're talking more loudly than might be advisable; part of their conversation is quite audible to everyone within the chamber, but they seem too caught up in it to notice. "– out! Simply pulling the whole lot of them out! Horsedung!" growls the Mitbackian. "Please," his robed companion interrupts him, "there is no need for such language –" "Horsedung, and horsedung again!" the guardsman repeats angrily. "What do you think my men will be saying next time they're up against the drat scalies without mage support? Nothing but!" The robed man sighs. "You know Carthaune. He cleaves to his priorities – particularly strictly as of late, I will admit – but talking to him like that isn't any more likely to make him reconsider!" "He wouldn't reconsider anyway." A snort. "You say he cleaves to his priorities; I say he doesn't give a drat anymore about anything but his bloody research, ever since his –" The man falls silent for a moment, perhaps reconsidering his words. "Oh, whatever," he then growls in a resigned, though upset tone. "We know who to thank if things go south, and at this rate they probably will before too long, mark my words." "Your lack of faith disappoints me," his companion chides. "Pelor may be silent, but he is still with us! The sun never sets forever, only for a time! You have to believe, my friend!" In response to this, a non-committal snort is heard from the Mitbackian. One moment later, the door clicks shut behind them, and silence settles once more. The robed man by the double doors has remained quiet throughout all this. He now turns to those nearby waiting for admittance and gives a slight nod towards the doors, which swung shut again immediately after Carthaune's previous guests had left. "The High Mage will be ready to receive you in a few minutes," the man says in a soft voice. Coreladdabar, Landra: You recognize the man in uniform. His name is Hartgrim Duvolle; he is a high-ranking officer in the Mitbackian city guard and in charge of defending the city and the surrounding area from outside dangers, such as pirates and bandits. Apart from being an experienced soldier and strategist, Duvolle is well-liked among his men, neither being one to mince matters nor afraid of getting his hands dirty, though many of his fellow officers do not share their subordinates' high opinion of him. He can be quite hot-headed at times, to the point where he is generally considered a liability when it comes to political or diplomatical exchanges. Landra: The "scalies" they were talking about are a peculiar race of amphibian creatures that were first encountered only a few weeks ago, preying on fishing boats and small coastal settlements. Little is known about them, except that they are quite deadly; the city guard has already suffered numerous losses against them, with no confirmed kills in return. Those guardsmen involved have been sworn to silence, although a few vague details have leaked out anyway; they allegedly use cruel tridents that leave wounds which heal poorly, if at all, and they have some kind of supernatural mastery over the element of water itself.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 05:58
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel stands as the great doors open and watches the two men as they leave. They don't seem to notice him watching them, engaged as they are. He learned three pieces of information from them: Mitback was no longer receiving combat support from the academy, Mitback was fighting what the guard called 'scalies,' and the man they were about to see had blown both of them off, citing pressing research. Taldrel had heard rumors of a recent threat to Mitback but had chalked it up to the rumors of looming war. He assumed the academy had withdrawn their support of the Mitback guard due to their magic failing. What interested him more was that Carthuane had told these men that his research was more important than sending support to a threatened city, and the fact that they were about to go in and talk to him themselves. What would a magical researcher want with a city guard captain? Well, he supposed he was about to find out. Taldrel gathers his belongings and awaits admittance. He wouldn't have to try to tune out Annetta's philosophical ramblings for much longer.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 16:41
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial Petra's kind eyes fall on the two men as he watches their debate with some measure of curiosity. He smiles at the priest's words regarding Pelor's ever-presence and clasps his holy symbol tightly. When they're gone, he looks at each group member and proclaims: "Hopefully, if there is any doubt about the importance or worthiness of the task before us, there isn't anymore." He thinks back to Westpoint and how the sudden shortage of magical healers must be causing its citizens great pain, and resumes his anxious stance once again. "Many, many people will suffer greatly if we are not successful."
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 17:23
|
|
|
Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Coreladdabar knows it isn't polite to listen in on conversations, but when both parties speak so loud, what choice does he have? He wonders what significance the conversation had, and whether, just perhaps, there is much more to the story than meets the eye (or ear, in this case).
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 17:27
|
|
|
Alagand Alagand watches the two men go past. his eyes narrowed in concentration. Do I know that man? he wonders. The man's description of the lack of support given to Mitback's forces makes Alagand feel a twinge of guilt at having decided to take on Carthaune's task rather than keep to the cities, where he was certain that crime and the victimization of the poor were on the rise. The cults all know me now, he reminds himself, I'm a dead man if I try to mess around in there. I need allies such as these. Still, the selfishness of the thought keeps it from comforting him particularly.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 19:56
|
|
|
Landra "Why did they send him, of all people? Were they trying to get sent back without help?", she mutters, frowning as the two pass out of the hall. The guards are worse off than I'd heard, then. Perhaps I should have been looking south instead of west...but I'm only one blade in a world full of problems. She barely managed to keep from tapping her feet as she watched the door. Clearly, Duvolle's impatience was infectious.
|
|
#
?
Sep 6, 2008 23:26
|
|
|
Annetta Annetta remained passively listening, not even turning to follow them, acting as if utterly unconcerned. It was, she felt, always wise to appear stupid, dumb or ill informed as to put leave surprises available when they would be most use. That went for allies as much as enemies in her book, because she had well learned that one could blur into the other all to easily. Still, it looked as though -something- was happening. Mitback was never a place she'd only ever visited twice, once in her earlier merchant days a year ago, and then once more, both times little more then to catch a boat to somewhere else. But still, this bode ill, creatures of some sort were attacking, though the Gods only knew what they might be. Scalies were unfortunately a very uninformative name for something.
|
|
#
?
Sep 7, 2008 00:56
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt "Friend of yours, Landra?" Taldrel asks with a smirk. "Any idea what they were talking about?"
|
|
#
?
Sep 7, 2008 01:55
|
|
|
Roland Roland listens with some interest as the men walk though. He tended to assume such things were staged for their benefit at any rate. Perhaps this would have some bearing on their mission? Perhaps not. Best to wait and see.
|
|
#
?
Sep 7, 2008 16:27
|
|
|
Landra She looks aside to Taldrel, shrugging. "I know him well enough to wonder what whoever sent him was thinking. What I don't know is exactly what's been giving them so much trouble. The Guard hasn't been leaking much information - I'm sure you of all people know how strange that is - and I'd been away in the Everleaf for a time. Some strange things have been boiling up there..." She trails off for a moment, then eventually continues with a shake of her head. "Anyway, I was barely in the city long enough to receive the High Mage's message and catch up with the rumours that were going around, let alone do any real digging." Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 21:58 on Sep 7, 2008 |
|
#
?
Sep 7, 2008 20:19
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial "Sometimes a hot head is worth much more than a cool tongue in diplomatic matters," Petra remarks. Maybe the Mitbackians knew what they were doing sending a man filled with righteous anger to represent them.
|
|
#
?
Sep 7, 2008 21:03
|
|
|
Once again, the great double doors open. On cue, the robed man looks at each of you in turn. "Follow me," he says simply and leads the way into the White Room. If its antechamber conveys a feeling of not truly being indoors by means of its masterful craftsmanship and large windows, the White Room does so simply by being nothing short of cavernous in size. Easily measuring two hundred feet from end to end, its comparatively narrow footprint is elliptical, the structure situated at a right angle to the antechamber, whose double doors are located in the southern wall of this hall. Its ceiling curves some one hundred feet overhead, with several tiers of windows circling around its apex. Despite the sun having set by now, the chamber remains well-illuminated, however – magic at work, undoubtedly. At a height of maybe thirty feet, a gallery runs around the entire length of the walls, spiral staircases providing access at regular intervals. The only other noteworthy feature here is the great table that takes up the centre of the chamber, which looks like it could seat a hundred fairly easily. On the other side of the table, a bearded man rises from his chair as you enter. "Ravic Carthaune," the robed guard announces and bows slightly to the High Mage before turning and leaving the White Room, the doors swinging shut behind him with nary a sound. "Welcome, welcome," Carthaune greets you and beckons towards the table. Even though you are still some way away from the table, his voice sounds as though he were standing right beside you; in fact, any who speak will find they need to raise their voice but a little for it to be heard clearly throughout the White Room. Drawing closer, it is the first (good) look some of you get at the High Mage. Leaning lightly on the table, Ravic Carthaune is a tall man, perhaps slightly more heavyset than one would expect a man in his position to be. He wears all black, his clothes a little more casual than a robe would be, but still communicating the fact that their wearer is a man of power. Some elven blood clearly runs in Carthaune's veins: his eyes are a very light, piercing green, and the ears give his elven heritage away quite clearly. In one way, however, he seems decidedly different from other half-elves: he looks old. His dark hair and beard are abundantly streaked with grey, and the passage of the years shows clearly in his narrow, lined face. He cannot be much older than sixty, but whereas most half-elves his age only just begin to show signs of aging then, Carthaune already looks like an old man. However, in addition to the not inconsiderable aura of arcane might that Coreladdabar and Annetta sense about him, there is still power in the High Mage's eyes and particularly in his voice, which is deep and voluminous. "Please, take a seat," Carthaune bids you, waiting until you have all sat down before settling back into his chair. "You have all had a safe journey, I hope? There has been word of a resurgence in hobgoblin activity between the Lake and the Everleaf. It is most worrisome." Then, as an afterthought, he gestures at the table with a sweep of his hand, smiling. A number of pitchers, filled with wine and water, and cups are set out before you. There is also cake.
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 00:14
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel takes a seat at the immense table, forgoing refreshment for the time being. He had never seen a table this big, let alone a single room. It made conversation feel awkward, being so far from the other party, but somehow it sounded like they were no farther apart than they would be at a normal sized table. Taldrel wasn't sure to attribute that to the acoustics in the room or a wizard's magic. He didn't spend long thinking about it - there was business to conduct. "Thank you for receiving us, Master Carthuane," Taldrel says. He disliked the formalities of court, but it wouldn't do to make a bad impression for Niemund. "The journey was quite uneventful, but thank you for your interest," Taldrel says, trying not to yell across the vast expanse of table before him, "but I'm guessing you didn't summon us all here to handle some hobgoblins." As much fun as that would be, Carthuane probably had people under him to handle things like that. Carthuane was a man of position, so his worries had to bigger than some hobgoblin brigands.
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 01:01
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial "We are all most gracious for the hospitality," Petra says, nodding politely to Carthaune. He looks around, still anxious, taking in the grandeur of the hall before catching himself. It's not too long before Carthaune tells us what he has in mind. I may as well busy myself. Petra begins cutting up the cake, offering a slice to each person in turn.
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 02:01
|
|
|
Annetta An amused smile, almost but not quite a smirk, clung to the woman's face as she entered the room, eyes taking in the magnificent architecture with just as much disinterest as she might for a slovenly peasants hovel. Buildings were to her just one way of keeping the rain off of ones head, the animals away and the drafts to a minimum. "Indeed, hobgoblins are annoying pests, but it seems doubtful that you personally would summon us all from across the breadth of the known world for them. There are plenty around who would competently suffice for such issues," she said as she took a seat. Spying the cake, she bit her lip a moment and then gave in to some internal little whim, taking a slice of the cake for herself, happily digging in at once. "Mmm, love cake..." she said, mouth half full.
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 02:03
|
|
|
Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Coreladdbar saunters into the room, unconcerned with the beauty of the place. He'd seen it before. As he seats himself, he gives Carthaune a knowing wink. He graciously accepts some cake from Petra, but sets it aside while he sips some wine. A thoughtful expression plays about his face. Stormtrooper fucked around with this message at 04:48 on Sep 8, 2008 |
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 02:46
|
|
|
Roland "I doubt any here would have trouble with hobgoblins," he says as he takes a piece of fruit and begins cutting it apart with a small knife. "I don't know everyone here by reputation, but those I do make me think those I don't are peers enough. It is quite the assembly of heroic elfflesh," he says with a wry grin. "Curious."
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 03:46
|
|
|
Landra She takes advantage of the others preceding her to admire the White Room itself - who knows when she'll be back? Soon enough, Landra moves forward into her seat, taking an offered piece of cake from Petra with a thankful nod and setting it down before her. "As safe as anything these days," she confirms. "Though most journeys don't have this sort of hospitality at the end. Many thanks." She takes a bite, as if to punctuate her pleasantry.
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 04:28
|
|
|
Alagand The room is enormous, as awe inspiring as anything he's ever seen, but Alagand is accustomed to the use of ostentation to make visitors ill at ease, leaving them at a disadvantage in negotiation. Nevertheless, his insides feel tight with the strain of his own uncertainty as to his position. Those gathered here have powerful personalities, and seem already to be testing one another, taking each other's measure. None of them knew him from a hole in the wall - where did that leave him in all of this posturing and positioning? Alagand cannot eat. He sits reluctantly, only because everyone else has done so; even this feels awkward. Instead of looking at Carthaune, Alagand watches the faces and bearing of his new companions, trying to understand them better. Of them all, only Roland and Landra seem relaxed. Landra appears to be the only one genuinely enjoying the architecture and artistry of the room, while Roland seems simply unflappable. Perhaps Roland genuinely doesn't care how the others decide to judge him. This does not make any sense to Alagand - who knows how long they'd all be traveling in company? Any dislikes or rivalries that formed now would not only damage their effectiveness as a team, but could also make their travels together exceedingly unpleasant...
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 06:07
|
|
|
Petra M'orderial "The hobgoblins were no trouble for me, either, sir," Petra says as he pours himself a glass of wine and munches on a small sliver of cake. "I agree with Taldrel. Now that we've had the chance to get comfortable, how might we be of assistance? I'm sure we're all well aware of the implications of the..." Petra clears his throat, not quite knowing how to phrase the next bit. "The implications of the recent changes if their effects are left untreated." Diplomacy +17 if for some reason it's relevant. Aschlafly fucked around with this message at 08:56 on Sep 8, 2008 |
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 06:17
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 19, 2024 20:58 |
|
|
Annetta Annetta could, for the most part, care less about what the others thought of her. But not much. She would work with them, willingly or not. Gods knew she has had her share of people she had to work with that she would have much rather driven to madness and left for dead in a field somewhere. But, she was better then that, as she reminded herself constantly. At the moment however, her attention was on Ravic, with the occasional probes at her memory, trying to see if there wasn't something she could place about Alagand and his tattoos.
|
|
#
?
Sep 8, 2008 06:19
|
|