The rambling fortified inn and surrounding walled waystop that now bears the moniker of Sparrow's Rest looks old.  Old weathered wooden walls, lichen-stained stone, weary gabled rooflines sagging with age.  And yet, there seems to be an enduring quality that underlies the place--something that resists or perhaps even complements the pervading sense of age that the place exudes.

And there is little doubt that the outer fortifications are in working order.  Cleared areas surround ditches lined with sharpened stakes, and earthworks encompass the stone walls that surround the inner sanctity of inn and hamlet.

This is Sparrow's Rest, as it has come to be known in recent years.  A place older than its current name, hard by the mighty Farothduin River with its titanic stone bridge spanning its roiling waters, and wayplace for caravans along the immemorial east-west trade routes.

And now, the Rest serves as a residence-in-exile for a Rimsedge Lord...and the sojourning and training site for a band of Western adventurers bound for the war-torn East.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:21, Thu 05 Feb 2009.

Taking time to rest and enjoy a mug of ale between training sessions, Gilrak enjoys the peace that the secluded corner of the inn has to offer.  In between hearty pulls from the fired clay goblet of drink, Gilrak looks down to the weapon he continues to methodically rotate in the leathery palm of his hand.  Noting the newly added pits and gouges in the weapon, the dwarf smiles to himself as he recalls the recent battles he's experienced with his traveling companions.  Not bad combatants for a group of men and a half-wit half-orc...

With the thought of his recent combat experiences fresh in his mind, the ranger leans back - grips the now familiar feel of the diamond scored shaft of his urgrosh - and lets his mind wander to his recent training.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:38, Thu 05 Feb 2009.

Days of molten, end-of-summer golden sunlight in the great river valley of the Farothduin are interspersed with brief nighttime rains as the year continues on its cycle.  The time at Sparrows Rest is brief--no more than nine, ten days at the outside.

And yet it feels...longer.  The sense of age of the place, its weird clientele consisting of late season caravans and wealthy refugees--many hooded, masked, or otherwise traveling incognito--and the poorer refugees turned away at the gates of the fortification to face the dangers and privations of the long road to the west...all contribute to an underlying texture of surreality and a sense of baited watchfulness.

And the rumors.  The whispered tales of betrayals in Deuxchay, black deeds among the Arkenhem nobility, the march of cowled legions from the ghoul-haunted peaks surrounding Lafal, and the incessant, ever-growing plethora of war stories from the East...all of the apocrypha, rumor, anecdote, and wild-eyed suppositions swirl around the dimly-lit common rooms of Sparrows Place as late summer night breezes gutter the ancient inn's torches.

The dusty trail, worn into the very bones of ground--sole physical evidence of potential movement in an otherwise static landscape.  The sun, a blazing, golden orb in a cerulean sky.  The mountains to the west, the long, long vistas to the east, along a gradual descent from foothills to lower grassy vales, and thence to a haze at the limits of sight.  The trilling of a warbler, the answering brinksmanship call of a vireo, the background orchestra of late summer insect buzzing and ticking cadences.  The sweet, pungent smell of bay laurel, goldenrod, and warmed juniper.

"Where in th' feck are we?"  The halfling's voice is puzzled but calm.

And...


Moments ago, in a corner of the small, walled hamlet known as Sparrows Rest, near the juncture of two of the walls.  A half-orc stands, his taloned hands gently cradling a piece of parchment.  A small group of scarred and capable-looking adventurers stand before him:  half-orc; dwarf; halfling; Palonish, Paldorian, Phanarian, and Narvilian humans.  The half-orc with the parchment begins to intone in a solemn voice, the syllables he pronounces sounding slightly warped to the ears of the listeners.  A lingering, drawn-out enunciation of the penultimate word in his mystical litany, a pause before the final, exhaled endpiece of his oratory.

"Errrm, this may not put you, well, EXACTLY a few miles from Rimsedge."

And the final syllable is pronounced, the air shimmers, the warp and weave of space lurches vertiginously, and the small group of oddly-matched adventurers find themselves amidst the warm exhalations of earth, sky, and verdure in a completely unfamiliar location.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:40, Sat 28 Feb 2009.

"Huh...this is less dramatic then I was expecting. I wonder what he meant by 'not exactly a few miles from Rimsedge'?" Garryn wonders aloud.

He adjusts his backpack and prepares to head out, then turns to the two spellcasters and the hulking half-orc and asks, "Anyone able to figure out where we are?"

Gilrak somewhat unsettled by the sudden teleportation, unshoulders his rucksack and tries to get his bearings.  Looking to Garyn making ready to get underway, he adds"Pretty eager to get going there thief.  What - did ya manage to pickpocket some unsuspecting goat herder out here before the rest of us popped in?  Just hang tight a minute - might want to let us figure out where we are before ya start wandering off -- in the wrong direction.."  With that the dwarf lets out an amused grunt and continues - "Let's see what we can see shall we.."  The ranger takes in the terrain around him for a few moments and then kneels down to examine the various vegetation and animal signs in the area..



15:01, Today: Gilrak Kilring rolled 29 using 1d20+13. Survival Check - Episode 1:  Lost.
15:00, Today: Gilrak Kilring rolled 18 using 1d20+7. Know Nature - where the hell are we?.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:31, Sat 28 Feb 2009.

As his dwarven friend begins to examine the local terrain's flora for clues of their location, Perrato mutters, "Ay caray. Siempre hay algo de dificultad con este grupo de payasos y irreligiosos. Habría sido mejor si yo me hubiera quedado en Palone con mis estudios y mis pajaritos..." Then the priest proceeds to take the measure of the sights, sounds, smells, flora and fauna of their surroundings to satisfy his own curiosity, feeling rather confident in the veracity of his surmises.

[OOC: 21:24, Today: Perrato Viatomagne rolled 28 using 1d20+10. Additional survival check, for kicks. We'll see if that contributes anything even though Gilrak edged out Perrato on the roll.]

Both the Palonish priest and the dwarven mercenary spend some time examining the landscape surrounding them, near to far, from a micro scale to a macro scale.  Perrato identifies the two birds he has heard as a yellow-breasted chat and a funeral-bell vireo.  The chat is a common bird throughout Arret, found in scrub/shrub habitat from the western shores of Costa Roja to below the Bao Bandai.  The vireo, however, has a distribution to the east of the Windy Crags and the southern Winding Stair Mountains, so the party is likely standing with the great central mountain ranges of Arret to the west.  Furthermore, the priest's examination of the vegetation indicates that the subtle differences between the bentgrass species more prevalent in western Arret have given way to more xeric bunchgrass species assemblages--further indicating that the group stands in eastern Arret.

Gilrak contributes his lore as well, searching sky, earth, and dried watercourse for clues as to the companions' whereabouts.  The sky is a cloudless blue, with late summer sunshine pouring down.  There are indications of seasonal watercourses, crowded by laurel and goldenrod and descending to the east, based on both the priest's and the dwarf's direction-sense.  And finally, Gilrak notes a series of rocky outcroppings that break through the scattered bunchgrass and juniper above the seasonal watercourses.  The dwarf identifies veins of the mineral enypniocite--a species of ferric mineral that is known to be found only in the Dreaming Lands.

Priest and dwarf compare observations, speaking quietly together, and both eventually nodding in accord.  It appears most likely that the party is east of the Windy Crags in the lower foothills, within the Dreaming Lands, along the main caravan trail or some branch thereof, approximately 200 mile or so from the fabled City of Rimsedge.

After conferring with the Priest, Gilrak makes his way back to his weathered rucksack lying on the ground.  Expecting it to take some time for the party to agree to a plan, the dwarf takes a knee and breaks out one of his trail rations...

In reply to Gilrak Kilring (msg #9):

The monk shakes his head, as if to clear it of this witchery. The surroundings remind him of the mountains that surround the eastern edge of his Narvillian home.

But, being less traveled than his companions, and unsure of his surroundings, Asher keeps his thoughts to himself and takes inventory of his gear to be sure everything made the arcane trip.

The Narvilian monk shakes his head, but continues to gaze westward towards the mountains.  Yes...this could be the foothills of the vast central series of mountain ranges, but the monk has never before seen it from this vantage--Asher's monastic home lies amid snowy peaks to the west, and his caravan travels were always towards the kinder western lands, and not along the hard-luck passages that lead eastward.

And yet with a sudden clarity, the monk recognizes a relatively straightforward fact.  Asher has heard  that the Dreaming Lands are closed to the teleportation magics of all but the Merchant Mages, and even the more pedestrian movement of relatively large numbers of goods and personnel through those Lands requires an arcane knowledge of space and time.  And as distasteful as this fact is to the monk, he realizes that the larger caravans would always employ one of the Mages to provide guidance through the Dreaming Lands.

It seems that Trapper Jack had played a bit of a farewell jest on the party...
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:18, Wed 04 Mar 2009.