As the events from the past week are concluded, someone approaches the group with an offer, and some straightforward coin.  It turns out that a merchant's son, a half-orc by the name of Rihen Isothe, is planning a trip to Nesmé in order to pick up a piece of work he'd had commissioned, and wishes to have some competent armed escorts for the trip northward.
   His offer is fairly straightforward: four gold coins per day, with him supplying mounts and supplies for the trip; on light horses, they can make the trip in seven days, assuming no stops.  He pads the offer with an additional 20 gold each upon arrival, and possibly an extra amount if trouble is encountered — and appropriately dealt with — along the way.  If the trip is uneventful, it will be a about 50 gold profit for just a few days' travel, ending up in a city famous for their metalsmithing, including their work with rare metals such as mithral and adamantine.
   Isothe's plan is to take the Long Road all the way to Longsaddle, then follow the Surdrin Trail to Nesmé.  It's a fairly straightforward route, though military patrols have lessened in the past few years, and it would include stops in Red Larch, Triboar, Westbridge, Rassalantar, and Amphail.

[Chepzur is not present in the group yet; it's just the four of you right now.  A few years ago, Nesmé was sacked by an army of trolls.  Thanks to the help of dwarves from Mirabar and Mithral Hall, the trolls were driven back into the moors, and the city has been rebuilding.  This past year, things have been complicated by the newly-established Kingdom of Many Arrows.  They will probably have a pressing need for sellswords and mages-for-hire, and this trip would give a good excuse to go there — not to mention the extra coin gained along the way.  And if you DO run into trouble en route, the chance of reclaiming valuables is fairly high.

If you wish, we can gloss over the trip and assume that the seven days go by without incident.  Or we can go day-by-day and see if you have any complications, though I would include the chance of having non-offensive encounters as well.  I'm good either way.]

The day they were to leave came quick, yet not quick enough for the young priest of Mielikki. He so yearned to once again quench his ever increasing wanderlust to see the lands of his world. As the sun broke over the horizon he had already retreated to the small copse of trees near the inn he and his fellow companions had called home, for what seemed to be an eternity, to pray to his goddess. The small area served as a make shift alter to the Mistress of The Woods.
    As the warm light of the sun played across the dew-covered leaves Damion plunged his hands into the loose dirt around the base of the tree and prayed for the arsenal of gifts she granted him each day. Normally the ground would be biting cold to the touch but warmed with the sensation of his mistress' magic. After a few minutes of communing he made his way back to the inn where he swallowed down a quick breakfast, then made his way to his room to strap on his armor and gather up his belongings. He paid his room and food tab, saying his fairwells to the innkeep and the locals he had grown to know, hoping to once again pass them in his journeys throughout the lands.

[Private to DM Halaster: I like the addition of the story from the last R.A.Salvatore books, The Hunter's Blade trilogy. One of my favorites! Are we going to run across King Obould himself?!]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:57, Tue 24 July 2007.

The young elven lady's needs quite simple, Authiel spent her time honing her skills in a nearby quarry where humans had been painstakingly chipping away rock with which to make homes, fortifications, fences, and the like.  But Authiel's practicing made their work much easier and so she had made many human friends.

After her practice had concluded each day, Authiel made her way back to the inn where she ate a small dinner and retired to her room to rest and prepare for the following day.  This morning was no different than any other for the elf.  She was happy and carefree, more than ready to earn her gold.  And perhaps blow a few things up if they got in her way, of course.

Satisfied that she had everything prepared, everything she needed, Authiel made her way downstairs with a pretty, upbeat smile on her face, a smile that had her eyes sparkle and her cheek bones more prominant, emphasizing her pretty face beautifully.  Ordering a quick breakfast to go, some bacon and biscuits she could nibble on, Authiel paid for her room and her meal, accepted the wrapped food, and went outside to look for her companions.

Iodaem spent most of his time in Waterdeep on his own, often just wandering the streets, trying to get to know this city, so different from his native Innarlith.  The smell, so different from the Lake of Steam - he was glad to be away from that stinking puddle of water, he told himself often - was just one of the many ways this place seemed a better one to him.  But, at the same time, he could never see himself settling down there - it was too big, for one, too crowded.  He could never get rid of the feeling that someone was watching his every step, and so, he kept on the move, until the group he had joined up with was about to leave.  Waiting outside the tavern as the sun rose, he smiled as he saw the sun elven lady emerge from the door.

"A good morning to you, Lady Authiel," the Innarlan man said, and bowed slightly, before extending his hand to her.  "I hope you rested well?"

"Good morning, Iodaem," Authiel replied as she saw heard the young man greet her.  Placing her hand in his, her happy smile turned just a bit introspective and her voice lowered as she went on, I rested well, but...may I speak with you?"

Iodaem raised an eyebrow, and then nodded.  "I...  yes, of course - what is it?" he whispered, and motioned for her to walk with him, thinking that if it was something best kept in private, standing about outside the inn might not be the best idea.

"Innarlith," the young elf quietly yet emphatically said as if that one name said everything.  "You spoke of Innarlith.  I...am looking for somebody...the last place...we know where she was...was...Innarlith," Authiel went on, her voice showing her obvious fear.  "It is not over-large.  Perhaps...you could...help me?"  The pleading look she gave the young man would be enough to break the hardest of hearts, and it was clear that this missing person meant quite a lot to the pretty little elf.

Iodaem stopped, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh, and turned towards Authiel.  She looks so much alike her. . .  can it be? he wondered, but decided against jumping to conclusions, for the moment, at least.  "Innarlith," he began, and took a brief pause to focus his mind.  "That is a place I have tried to erase from my memory, yet no matter how hard I try, my thoughts always return to it, eventually.  What is it you want to know, Lady Authiel?" he whispered, and slowly started walking again, just going around the block the tavern was on, so they would not get too far away from the others.

"My sister, Iodaem.  She is lost.  We have not heard for her in quite some time.  And Innarlith was the last place where we heard from her.  Our father's raven would check on her and then report back to him.  But the last time...my sister, Ardiella, could not be found.  I have to find her.  Where could I start?  Do you have any ideas?" Authiel spouted quickly, urgently.  Gone now was any attempt at a smile.  Her brow was drawn, her eyes had lost their luster.  Authiel was showing her worry and desperation despite herself.

"I...  I think I may have seen her.  You are the second of your kind I have seen, Authiel, of the gold elves.  The first, was a lady I met in Innarlith, who bore a striking resemblance to you.  She. . .  she did not tell me her name, though, for she could not.  I...  I should start at the beginning, though.  Innarlith is ruled by a Senate, but above them stands the Ransar - 'first among equals'," Iodaem began, nearly spitting out the words at the end.  "I...  I worked for him, and he was a cruel, cruel man.  In the dungeons, far beneath his castle, was it I first saw the lady, her hands tied up, and her tongue cut out.  She could not speak to me, but from the way she looked at me, I...  I knew that what I was doing there was wrong, I knew that I had been doing foul deeds - and that I had to stop.  I...  I rescued her from her cage, and we made our escape through the palace."

Then, he quietly began to describe the lady he had tried to save.  She was slightly taller than Authiel, with darker hair.  Her eyes, unknown to Iodaem but unlike most sun elves, were a brilliant green color, just like Authiel's, and he could still see them whenever he closed his eyes.

"We...  we made it to the roofs, before she was...  she was cut down by an arrow, and...  she died, in my arms.  After that, I ran, as far as I could - all the way to Waterdeep,"  finished, having stopped again in the middle of the sentence.


"I...  I'm sorry," he whispered at the end, and lowered his head.  He felt bad for delivering such bad news - if it was indeed Authiel's sister he had seen - and twice as much so, for not having been able to help any, to save the lady, even though she had saved him, in her own way.

Throughout Iodaem's story, Authiel began to realize the horrible truth.  Not only did the man describe her sister physically perfectly, but he also somehow managed to capture her essence, her personality.  Ardiella was most definately the type of woman who could make someone realize their wrongs with just a look.

As the horror of her sister's torture and demise became evident, silent tears slid down Authiel's face.  When she realized for certain that her only, beloved sister was dead, Authiel's legs collapsed beneath her and silent sobs wracked her body.

As if by reflex, Iodaem grabbed Authiel, held her up, and let her cry on his shoulder.  It was the least he could do.  "I am so sorry," he whispered, and as he held Authiel in his strong arms, even he began to cry, not able to stop himself from thinking back at what had happened.  And now, he had a name to connect with the elven lady, too. . .

Crying out all of her sorrow, Authiel nevertheless clung to the guilt that had already begun to gnaw at her.  Guilt that she was alive and her sister was not, that her sister had died horribly while she had done nothing to save her.  Had she but known, Authiel would have given her life for Ardiella.  She would have walked to the ends of Faerûn to save her.  She would have given anything for her precious sister.  But she had not known, and she had not helped.  And Authiel knew she would never forgive herself.

Many minutes passed before her crying ceased.  Had Iodaem not kept her from falling, she likely would have stayed in a heap on the ground.  But she drew strength from the comfort he provided, just as if it had been her loving parents or a true friend.  Of course, she did not know Iodaem that well.  But already there was a link between them.  He had tried to save her sister, and she owed him everything for that.

In between sweet little hiccups, remnants of her crying, Authiel slowly pulled away and looked up at the human man whom she now knew she would give her life for as if he were her sister and whispered, "Thank you.  Thank you for trying to save Ardiella.  Thank you for your gentle hug, for letting me cry on your shoulder.  I am forever in your debt, Iodaem.  Whatever you ask of me, know that I will do my best to grant it to you."

"I will ask you for only one thing, then.  Do not blame yourself, in any way, for what happened.  I did not know her like you did, but your sister was a strong person - she had the determined look of someone who would always do what they knew to be right, no matter the risk.  I...  I admired that, in her.  It was so different from me, from what I am, but I could tell that was how I truly wanted to be," Iodaem whispered, and sighed.  "I...  I'm not sure...  but I think I loved her," he whispered, almost beneath his breath.  "I wasn't in love with her, but I loved her, in a way that seemed so foreign to me.  Had I seen the arrow coming, I would gladly have taken it for her, even if it would mean my own death.  I wish I could have done that," he quietly finished, and it was obvious to Authiel that Iodaem was nowhere near being able to forgive himself for failing to save her sister.

"I owe you much more than that, and I will find a way to repay you for everything," Authiel began.  "I, too, would have gladly taken the arrow that stole my sister's life.  But there was no way you could have known.  And she would not want you to wish otherwise, to have given your life for hers.  I know that she would not want that.  Please...it would be enough for her to know that she took you from that awful place, even though she gave her life for it.  For her, that would be a worthy exchange."

Fresh tears coursed down Authiel's cheeks, but they were silent.  She did not sob, but neither did she wipe them away.  She knew that she needed to cry, but she also realized that soon their companions would be ready to go.  Authiel needed to compose herself.  Squaring her slender shoulders, a determined look came across Authiel's innocent, youthful face.  "The others will be here any moment.  We should be ready for them.  Please, though, remember that anything you need or want, I will do my best to get or do for you."

"Then promise me, that if you ever want or need to talk about it, you will come to me, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, you will come to me?" Iodaem whispered, and after offering Authiel his hand, he slowly began to walk.

"Know that I will always be a friend to you when you need one," he added as they walked, and almost managed to show her a soft smile.  Almost.

Authiel nodded and placed her hand in Iodaem's, drawing comfort from the contact.  "I will if you will promise me the same," Authiel replied softly as the two walked back around to the front of the inn.  "Friends then.  We will be friends," she added, looking around for but not yet seeing their companions.

Iodaem nodded in reply, and gave Authiel's hand a soft squeeze, before leaning up against a wall, to wait for their companions along with his new friend.

Damion wandered through the streets heading towards the agreed meeting place for their departure, a strange spring in his step. He came upon Iodaem and Authiel, his spear in one hand and his shield in the other.
"Good morrow. I hope you both slept better than I last night. I am entirely too excited to once again be on the open rode to have slept much."

Unable to force a fake smile to her face, Authiel was barely able to keep the tears that still glistened in her eyes from falling down her soft, now pale, cheeks.  "I, too, am excited," the little elf replied half-truthfully.  She had been extremely excited until she discovered the truth about her sister.  And though she still wanted to being their journey, Authiel also wished that she had more time to grieve.  To just sit down and cry out her hurt, frustration, and guilt.

Damion cocked his head to the side ever so slightly when he noticed the female elf had been crying. Seeing this was not his place at this time he nodded to them both and looked for their employer.

As Kalmir emerges from the inn, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, the half-orc merchant Rihen Isothe approaches from down the street.  Alongside him is a Chondathan human, bearing a rapier and studded leather armor; Rihen also has a rapier, as well as a large arbalest.
   "Ah, I see you're up and ready to go!" Rihen exclaims when he draws near.  "I have horses for everyone, and enough supplies to last us a tenday."  He indicates the man next to him.  "This is Chepzur; he has agreed to act as our guide, should circumstances take us off the road or muddle the proper turns in the path."
   He claps the man on the shoulder.  "Very alert, this fellow.  Just last night, he saved me the anguish of losing my purse to a pickpocket.  Anyway, I have everything ready to go; are you all prepared to leave?"

Nodding a welcome to Kalmir, Authiel turns to the group's employer and quietly answers, "I am ready to leave whenever you desire it."  Her eyes still glistened and were red and swollen, her feeling of sadness palpable to all surrounding the young elf.  For those who were unaware of the news Authiel received, it was still obvious that something had shaken her to the core.

"I can not wait to be on the road." the young priest said, a wide smile playing across his face.

Iodaem placed his hand on Authiel's shoulder, and nodded slowly.  "I have learned to always be ready to leave," he replied, and waited for the group to set out.

The young man scans around noting who he will be escorting to Nesmé. As he sees the young elven lady with sadness in her heart, he pauses for a moment, then shrugs.

After hearing another human warrior speak to the young elf, he lifts his chin to ensure the whole party hears him. "If everyone is ready to leave, then we should not hesitate. As my one note to everyone, stay warm."

To the priest, "I hope you have made your prayers to your god or goddess, for it is time to venture forth." Chepzur half-smiles at the dawn of another adventure setting forth at this moment.

Resting his right hand on the handle of his rapier, Chepzur turns his attention to the important half-orc, the half-orc paying him to be his guide. "I will start guiding as soon as everyone is on his/her horse."

In her obvious sorrow, Authiel began to say that she had no horse, but then she felt like a fool as she remembered their employer was providing them.  Thankful she had not said anything yet allowed, the pretty little elf quietly said, "Then let us be off."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Thu 26 July 2007.

Kalmir, having his own horse, declined the use of one of the merchant's horses. Before setting out he paid the innkeeper what was owed to him. Patting his horse on the neck, he mounted quickly and set out when the others were ready.

Damion simply nodded at the guide when he made mention of his daily prayers. He then hoisted himself into his saddle and grabbed up his spear, which he stuck the butt of into one of his stirups for easy use.

Chepzur rearranges his equipment, brisks both his and the merchant's horse, places his equipment on the merchant's horse, saddles up on his horse, and awaits everyone else.

When the merchant's son notices that a couple horses will be unused, he draws out a length of rope, hitching the two extra horses to his own.  "Never know when you need a spare," he comments.  When everyone has secured their gear and are mounted, he climbs onto his own mount.  "No sense delaying; the sooner we get moving, the sooner we'll be there."
   As the entourage reaches the point where the High Road touches the city's central market, a wide-shouldered dwarf comes jogging out into the middle of traffic, pushing people left and right along the way.  As he emerges from the crowd, the half-orc looks down in surprise.  "Aoth, I didn't expect you to see me off!  I'd figured your customers would be keeping you busy."
   "Aye, they are," the dwarf replies, "but I had somethin' for you to take with ya."  He holds out a long wooden box, which Rihen accepts.  "One o' them's for you to keep, the other's for my brother Kavik when you get to Nesmé."  Inside the case are two finely-crafted short swords.
   Rihen sets the case into a saddlebag.  "Don't worry, Aoth, we'll get there and back safely."
   "Don't forget to stop at the inns along the way, you don't want to go too long without drinking.  As me pa always said, 'May the road rise to meet yer face.'  Be seein' ya!"  Aoth scrambles back into the midst of the crowd, his path to the market square made visible by the sudden displacement of taller folk in his way.
   The half-orc spurs his mount, and before long the shops and guildhalls give way to the manor houses and villas of Waterdeep's nobility.  Foot-traffic clears considerably, allowing better time toward the northern gate, as well as a quieter ride.  Before long, the gatehouse comes into view; most of the traffic coming through the gate is inbound, so it takes a few minutes to clear a path wide enough to allow everyone out.

As the group exits the gate, Chepzur turns to the group at the sudden whim of a thought. "If for some reason I start galloping or I stop my horse and ready for a fight, follow my lead." As he turns back and continues, he--for no reason at all--finds hmself riding next to Kalmir.

Damion nods to the strange young man that has signed on as their guide. As the group gallops through town Damion manuevers his horse to the back of the pack.

Kalmir steps up his horse and rides near to the front of the caravan.

Unsure of where the others would want her, the diminutive and delicate elf guides her horse to the middle of everyone, knowing that she of all of them was the least protected.  Authiel only hoped that nobody would be upset with her for taking the safest position amidst the group.

Iodaem stayed close to Authiel, but kept a hand close to his great, curved blade, just in case anything were to happen.  He also reached for a wand of his, one that he had never used before, but knew would help him pack more of a punch if that were to be needed soon. . .

The merchant's son appraises the group's placement around him, then sets the horses to a leisurely canter.  As the group passes next to the line formed at the gate, a merchant offers them a sack filled with bread, cheese, fresh meat, and a bottle of Arabellan Dry.  The half-orc checks the bottle, hands over some coin, and the entourage moves on.
   "Looks like we're set for lunch.  Let's see how close we can get to Rassalantar before we stop to eat."

[Check the XP notice, this week's awards are posted.  Be sure to fix the 'last update' date on your character sheets.]

As the entourage starts moving, Chepzur seems to be noticeably happy, may it be due to the cool morning breeze, the start of a new adventure, or thoughts of elsewhere, Chepzur starts a light conversation with anyone in general. "Ah, dreary Rassalantar, home of the Sleeping Dragon Inn." Chepzur's tone changes from light and happy to a darker, heavier tone. "Has anyone else ever stayed the night at this inn? For those who have not been to Rassalantar, the Sleeping Dragon Inn is one of the few unforgettable places to visit." His speech slows for this last portion. "For many, this inn can be a better place to stay at opposed to other certain locations situated near this hamlet." For anyone who was carefully observing Chepzur, he/she would have seen Chepzur lightly touch his rapier by the end of his speaking.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Sat 28 July 2007.

"It sounds as though you have had a little experience with those other places." Damion said from a bit down the line.

Authiel rode quietly along, a part of the group and yet so alone.  Often she could be caught wiping away a stray tear that she simply had not the will to stop as her heart ached for her dead sister.  She fought her despair valiantly, however, and did not succumb to the deep depression that threatened to overwhelm her.  Barely.  Authiel felt so angry, so lost.  All at the same time.  Silently she vowed to seek revenge on all those who had killed her sister.  She would strike them down with her powerful, destructive magic.  She would ruin everything those evil, wretched excuses for people.  Even if it killed her.  Thus, while they rode along with the others talking, Authiel alternated between her sorrow and her anger, her tears and her fingers dancing in the air as she practiced the delicate movements that would enable her to cast dangerous balls of fire, loops of electricity, and orbs of acid that would tear a hole and pump acid into an unsuspecting person's body.

Kalmir shook his head in response to Chepzur's query, Kalmir not know of that Inn. The big barbarian continued to ride bhoping to see battle.

Iodaem seemed for all intents and purposes as if he hadn't heard any talks of inns, and he didn't speak a word on it.  He had never been anywhere close to here before, so even if he had heard it, it was likely he would have stayed quiet - he usually was rather quiet, after all.  Instead, he kept glancing over at Authiel, wishing that there was some way he could comfort her, like she deserved to be.  Just the fact that she was still there, still going on with their mission, however, spoke a great deal about her character, he thought.  She was strong, she was a fighter.  And, again, he was reminded of her sister, whom he had tried to save...  He would have to talk more to Authiel, Iodaem decided, though in private.  Perhaps when they were to rest for the night, whenever that would be.

"When one is being chased by henchmen, it would be very smart to know the surroundings of local areas on the main road, and sometimes off of the main road. Aye, I was chased by henchmen and so I decided to take the side road and follow it to where we are going. It's good for a water stop, but I would never want to live there. I ended up losing the henchmen, because I knew from rumors of a fort in ruins. It was a place for me to hide. I don't plan on venturing there again, unless I am looking for battle or to escape." Chills run down Chepzur's body. Lightning, Chepzur's horse, gives a little whinnie, maybe from the thought of the ruin or just from Chepzur's random movement.

Back at a calmer state, Chepzur responds to Kalmir, "Through rumors the Sleeping Dragon Inn is known for both the owner and of a certain barmaid. And according to rumors, if we were to visit this inn, you might be meeting a dragon in human form. My type of place!"

Chepzur starts automatically whipping out a dagger and placing it back repeatedly. His expression was soft and looking forward. Apparently he has nothing else to add about Rassalantar for now.

Chepzur decides to put his knife away into his belt, then pats his strong horse.

"Well," Chepzur starts out after a bit of ride since last talking, "since this is one of my few times traveling with a group, I'm curious to what's bringing you group of adventurers out of good ol' Waterdeep. Visiting relatives? Starting a business? or just traveling to be bodyguards like you have been hired to do?"

Kalmir just wandering around. Have nowhere go.

"I, much like my friend Kalmir, have gotten the wanderlust. I must be close to my mistress and the only way to do that is to be in the wilds."

Off in her own little word full of heartbreak and no small amount of growing anger, Authiel does not Chepzur's question.  Fighting still against the tears, a few slid down her cheeks despite her willing them away.  Not even aware enough to be embarrassed about being possibly caught crying by the men around her, Authiel just let them go.  How would she share the news of her beloved sister's death to her parents?  They would be crushed beneath the weight of despair, much like Authiel herself was now.

As they rode along Damion saw Authiel crying once again. He could hold out no longer seeing one of his new companions in so much pain. He nudged his horse forward so he rode next to the young elf.
"Excuse me. This may not be my place and I appologize if I over step any boundries but I wanted to ask if there was anything I might do to ease whatever burden you carry." he said, his voice sounding almost father-like.

Looking almost as if the kind words would prove to be her downfall, Authiel smiled gratefully through her tears.  "Thank you," she whispered, "But I do not think there is anything that anybody can do.  I must simply carry on.  And avenge the murder of my beloved sister."  At her last words, words she whispered almost beneath her breath, Authiel's eyes flashed dangerously for just a second before reverting to carry the heartbroken look within them once more.  Then she sadly added aloud, trying to tease herself self-depracatingly, "And maybe have a bit of a good cry or two away away from you big, strong men."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Sun 12 Aug 2007.

Kalmir turned back and looked at Authiel, Damion good protector, Kalmir and Damion not let anything happen to you. No more crying we smash anyone who make Elf Lady cry!

"Kalmir, come to think of it...she couldn't have been including you when she said 'big, strong men.' But I am sure you could do the smashing as you stated." Chepzur smiled the whole time he made that comment. "Just teasing you Kalmir."

Damion offered a warm smile and began falling back in line offering only an, "As you wish."

Iodaem remained quiet for the moment, though he kept close to Authiel, glancing over at her every so often he felt he could, without risking falling off the horse.  The young man was no experienced rider, for sure, and it had been months, now, since he last sat on a strong steed like that one.  Still, he managed just fine, proving to be something of a natural at it, perhaps?  He cared not about that, though - he much preferred walking on his own two legs, and it was them that had carried him for most of his journey across the continent of Faerûn. . .

"Thank you, Damion.  And you as well, Kalmir.  It may not seem like it, but your kindess truly warms my cold heart," Authiel whispered quietly, smiling softly at each of them.  "You too, Iodaem," she added while looking at him.  "You have been wonderful to me.  But I cannot allow my heartbreak to interfere with our mission," she went on a bit louder, firmly resolving to put her sister's death to the side.  At least until the others slept that night.