Outside the Jade Rose Inn
Bruenor Sedricson:
Yelling an old fashioned battle cry, Bruenor rushed at the nearest undead, sword swinging in a wide arc.
The prince's sword flares brightly as Bruneor slashes down at the first of his undead foes. The blade parts the wet flesh of the creature's chest and neck, and it drops at Bruenor's feet! Now only one more foe is in Bruenor's reach...
Volsh son of Vor:
Volsh is not mindless under his wolven pelt as he quickly turns to the undead that had attacked Thunder. With a snarl, he launches himself at the zombie that hit the wolf, ramming his spear in deep.
OCC:
Charge giving me a +2 to hit, but a -2 to AC til my next round.
If I can't charge, I'll still move up and attack the same zombie, but it'll be a 25 and no -2 to my AC
20:28, Today: Volsh son of Vor rolled 27,8 using D20+12,d8+5. Attack/damage.
Volsh turns away from the two undead attacking him and instead goes after the one Thunder has downed. With wild strength, he thrusts Widowmaker hard into the prone undead, pinning it to the cobblestones!
The two undead Volsh left behind stagger after him, hands extended to grab and tear. The one remaining facing Bruenor claws at him, but fails to find a gap in his armor.
Narthian Goldleaf:
Thanks for reminding me Volsh!
Thunder yips in pain, snarls and bites back, but more as a warning then a serious attack.
19:15, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 9,5,20 using 1d20+7,1d6+2,1d20+2 ((2,3,18)).
Thunder is able to keep his foe on the ground, by no more. The undead tries to bite Thunder, but the wolf is too swift for that.
Rand's voice raises in intensity as he keeps the group surrounded by encouraging music, guarding the door against further assault.
Haazheel Thorn:
Haazheel, keeping away from harm, assesses what to do next.
Haazheel, you can see that there are two foes in battle with Bruenor, one undead prone next to Thunder and Volsh, and two undead who had staggered over to try to engage Volsh. There are some fainter moans from down the street, and dull thuds, like fists banging on a door, but no screams or sword clashes or other sounds of violence. You are definitely startled, though, when something nudges your ankle! Looking down, you see Vish behind your boot!
--
Woodview - Firvian's Estate
Averdante:
Dante tried to keep track of the direction in which they traveled, at least relative to the town. He took note of the house at which they arrived, too, in case he needed to be able to recognize it again. The numerous servants he eyed with more curiosity as they left the carriage for the house; were they guards disguised as servants? Or was Firvian living as a lord in truth?
Judging from the mansion's interior, Firvian truly was interested in books. Dante had never see so many in one place. He drifted once around the room, trying to determine if there seemed to be a theme to the contents -- antiquities, expensively ornamented? -- before joining the others by the fire and accepting a glass of wine.
"If meddling means offering such hospitality," he tells Pelas with a lift of his glass, "I can't easily imagine that anyone would object." He gives Firvian a nod. "You are much more of a scholar than I've ever dreamt of becoming. It must be a true passion for you." Glancing over at Dellas, he asked the halfling, "Have you ever seen such an impressive collection, Dellas?"
As Averdante circles the room, the books, scrolls, and folios he sees seem to be in excellent shape, though it's clear many are quite old. There is a variety of languages - Common, Dwarven, Elven, Gnomish, even Draconic (even if you don't speak those languages, the lettering is enough to identify its origin). The titles you can read seem to point to primarily historical and natural history books, various wars from differing perspectives, reigns of notable monarchs, biographies of various figures (political, magical, famous, and notorious), overviews of various religions (some gods or sects being entirely unfamiliar - "Ashfae the Darkhidden", "The Scarlet Stars", "Norgula of Broken Teeth", "The Wavering One"), journals of explorers and adventurers and their travels and travails, and books on flora and fauna of different regions of Low'verok.
The quills and pens in small cases on the wall, each one labeled with a name, seem to have been a pen owned by a particular person, some of who were the authors or subjects of some of the books on the shelves.
Firvian nods graciously at Averdante's compliment. "
My thanks for your praise. It seems a waste to not use the education my parents gave me; they each had their own scholarly bent, and my mother brought some rare books with her in her dowery. Now, the elven book with rosewood covers and gilt pages you spoke of. If I had something of that nature, it likely would have migrated to my private library, so you shall have to pardon me for a few moments, my guests, whilst I go on a hunt."
Dellas Nump:
Dellas was worried about Vish as they travelled through the streets, trying to send a general hide feeling to Vish. He had not even noticed their travel until the carriage came to a stop, being ushered inside he looked about the room full of books. Quickly noting what tiles he could read from his position. He nodded slightly to Dante as he moved towards the books "May I?" he asked to their host.
"
Of course, Dellas. Just treat them gently. I shall be back soon." Firvian nods and turns to pace out of the room, heading back towards the hall and the stairs.
Dellas can examine the books and finds a few in the Draconic tongue that speak of the magical practices of certain monstrous races (harpies, minotaurs, nagas, merfolk, amongst others) as well as a peculiar slim folio entitled, "My Interview with Markcifilius, a Beholder Most Grand".
In perhaps a half-hour, Firvian returns wearing a pair of kidskin gloves, and holding a book-shape wrapped in red silk. He goes to a table and unwraps the package upon it, revealing a rosewood-covered book with gold foil pages, the spine marked with Elvish script - "Memory".
"
Ah, I found it. Recently acquired, quite rare, a real beauty. It's not often one can find a book written from the perspective of an elf about elven mental disciplines. It's a rather niche subject if one is not an elf," he says with a slight nod at Averdante. "
Being as such things are more useful for an elf's trance state and less useful for a human's sleep, but sometimes such things can be helpful nontheless, if one has the patience. Is this the volume you were seeking? May I ask for what purpose?"
--
The Secret Cove
Narthian Goldleaf:
Narthian completes his Faerie Fire, targeted to outline the "Boss" with a vibrant green sheen, and including Buno if near enough. "You misunderstand," Narthian says, giving Buno a warning glance. "The object is wanted, but we want to know more, specifically how it came to be in your possession. Run if you will, but you are marked and my wolf brothers will soon be on your heels."
No saving throw. Area of effect is only a 5' radius.
The boss and Buno are illuminated in green light, making the boss snarl and Buno curse.
"
I sees you have no wantin' to be a gennelman about this," the boss says, his voice thick with a low-city accent. "
Runnin' an honest crook out of business, makin' him talk about his folk." He spits off to one side, and says, "
Brought into the harbor in wine barrels and firkins. I gets some, others get others. We gets them where they need to go, we get paid."
Buno, now glowing green and his boss apparently about to sell him out, runs back the way he came.
Lantamori:
"Now what?" Lantamori asked of Farian as she hadn't exactly understood how the transaction went.
Farian Raymellie:
Farian returns Lantamori's look, rubbing the dirt from her eyes. "Buno and the main guy retreated into the shack, so we should follow," she says, advancing into the structure with her mace held up like a torch. "I don't know how people operate like this. So much shadow in their language and hearts. I feel like I need a bath from even trying to speak their 'language'. I am sure that they meant to rob us rather then give any information."
Lantamori:
"Where is Narthian?" the elf asked, following the light wielder with a glance over her shoulder at the two recumbent tree people.
Farian Raymellie:
"I'm not sure. He is as resourceful as any of us, though. I am sure that eventually he will find my light."
Sir Aberlayne rolls to her feet and pulls out some lengths of rawhide. "
I'll make sure these two don't go anywhere, and keep a weather eye out for any more surprises," she says, briskly tying the treefolk hand and foot.
As Farian turns to the hut door, a glowing green figure runs out from within, banging straight into the priestess! Buno shouts and goes top over teakettle over her, then struggles to get back to his feet, pulling himself towards the steep staircase down to the cove!