Our heroes move through the busy streets of Titan's Gate with an uncanny efficiency as Raszire helps the group traverse the twisty lanes and alley ways. In what should take hours, the group finds themselves outside The Scoundrel and Dirk that well loved two-story timber framed inn located on the northern side of the massive city. As the mid-morning sun peaks through the clouds a handful of souls leave the inn heading out into the city.

Inside the common room is quiet, the few individuals that are having some food at the bar and others are chatting around the conversation while sitting at the fire in the common room core. From the behind the bar a dwarf woman, Shakurd Helmoral, whom the group knows from their time in the inn, smiles and waves to the group as they enter.
This message was last updated by the GM at 20:07, Tue 15 Oct 2019.

Carrying on with my wonderful skill check rolls:
15:54, Today: Raszire Toumash rolled 5 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 2. Rasz's Perception Check.

Raszire scans the crowd within the inn looking for Disanz. He's seemingly too distracted by his search to even notice the dwarf woman waving from behind the bar.

Filimena walks into the inn after the dragonborn, instinctively nodding a greeting at the dwarf behind the bar and wondering if she should get a drink. SHe’s feeling like something sweet, perhaps a cider if one can be managed.

OOC: Haha. Mostly a flavour post. If the common room is quiet is a perception check really necessary to find a guy? Maybe he’s in the loo and we don’t see him and decide to give up. Lol.

Marik enters a few moments after Filimina, without Rani, preceded by the characteristic "Toc...Toc" sound of his wooden legs hitting the floor. He wave back briefly at Shakurd, thinking it's the right thing to do and quickly scan the room. Truth be told, he's not quite in the right mind to see quite clearly, still in the emotion of the night. He needs a drink. Last time he was here, he saw numerous mens and womens who came to ease their troubles with something strong. He never tried it...the unrefined smell of liqueur here is nothing like the herbal scents he is used to. It rebuke him...but today, he has to admit he would like to feel what these mens and womens feels. If it bring them comfort, maybe it would do the same for him. He makes his way to the dwarf woman.

"Moien Shakurd....something...strong for me...whatever it is. And something for Rani outside...big piece of meat if you have...best one... It's celebrate..."


OOC: Marik rolled a natural one for Perception.

Filimena is startled to see the elf pass her and head towards the bar. She glances momentarily at Raszire behind her, raising an eyebrow, and walks over to the bar herself. “And I don’t suppose you have some kind of cider or perry,” she adds.

OOC: This is very irresponsible. We’re supposed to be saving the city!

There is no sign of the dwarf in the tavern, though Disanz didn't mention an exact time. As Marik and Filimena get to the bar Shakurd nods, "Welcome back. Something strong for Marik, a hunk of meat for the kitten, and a cider for the lady."

The dwarf taps one of the kitchen runners and says something to her which sends the runner back into the kitchen area. Shakurd takes a long moment to look over the various bottles on the wall behind the bar before plucking one down and pouring some into a glass. "Here you are master hunter a well aged elven spirit from Tal-Onarafel, I believe it is called The Court of Immortality if my elvish is right." The liquid appears to be a golden color and has a scent of grains mixed with apricots and a faint nuttiness.

She drums her fingers on the bar as she looks at the stock before pulling a bottle with the picture of angry dragon breathing fire onto an fruit tree, "Something fun for you Filimena. This is a cider made from grove that was partly burned down by a red dragon, which has imparted the fruit with a spicy flavor. Place is now call Dragonfire Orchard for obvious reasons."

A few moments later the runner that Shakurd had sent to the kitchen emerges with a sizable piece of meat - Marik notes it as being the rear flank of a some sort of pig or boar. "Ah! Good a bit of dire bore for Rani. Put it by the fire, I'm sure she'll be comfy there."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:34, Fri 18 Oct 2019.

"That...be [Language unknown: aceihowena.]...hum...very good" mutter the elf, who was not prepared to see such fine spirits here and gladfully take the wine glass in his gloved hand. The first sip immediately makes him calmer. It tastes like the golden and warm rays of sunlight over the rushing rivers in spring. It tastes the slow, gentle breeze making the trees hum in the fall. It tastes of home. And it's exactly what he needs right now.

Having prepared himself to down the liquid in one gulp, like he saw the patrons do with other liquors, he instead revert to his old habits of sipping it slowing and deliberatly, enjoying every delicate flavor (which may be a excellent thing after all, given that we indeed have lots of stuff to do).

After a moment, Marik appear much calmer, although still tired. He looks, smiling like a protective parent, at the giant cat happily biting and munching a large piece of dire boar.

As Filimena receive her cider, with the description, Marik seem to be reminded of something and shudder slightly. He seems to think for a moment, before saying.


"How....How do you do it.....?" he says, looking at the orange color of the cider, then the burn marks on her hand holding the glass. He turns to look at Raszire, whose scales also shows blackened spots " How...resist....fire?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Thu 24 Oct 2019.

Near the fire a individual dressed in bright scarlet sits gently plucking at a simsimiyya. They glaces up at the group as they enter but say nothing, seeming content to be left to their own devices.

Raszire turns to respond to Marik and says, "Well, my friend, I can't speak for Filimena, but because I am Dragonborn of Brass Dragon descent, I was born with a natural resistance to fire. My scales are tough, but I am by no means invulnerable. For you, I would suggest securing some potions to at least provide some temporary resistance, should the need arise again."

Rasz then looks down at the innkeeper. "My apologies for not acknowledging you a moment ago, I was lost in thought, and a bit more than distracted, I guess. Good day to you and may St. Fenwyn bless you with good health."

He leans in a little more, eyes the beverages in front of his friends and says, "Since we're all imbibing, I was wondering if I might have a flagon of ale?" and finishes with a wink.

He whispers to his friends, at least he believes it's a whisper, "I do not see Disanz, though it is still early. I hope we haven't missed him."

Filimena takes a sip from the Dragonfire Orchard cider, decides she likes it, and takes a swig of some more. She frowns slightly at the elf’s question, not quite knowing what to make of it, but getting the sense nevertheless that it’s more than physical injury being discussed here. She lifts the cider to her lips, resisting the temptation to glance up at the scars on his body, not to mention his leg, conjuring them in her mind instead from memory. Does she want to ask him about what happened? Clearly fire is involved ”I possess no natural resistance to fire...” She says simply, “It hurts me as much as it hurts anyone else, but then fire is a weapon I wield myself from time to time. It wouldn’t work as a weapon if it didn’t hurt.”

"Potions..." says the elf, with a understanding nod, in response to the Dragonborn. Yes, that makes sense. His skin will never be a tough as that of a Brass Dragon but anything could be emulate with the right ingredient and formula. The problem is of course finding these and somehow having a potion at the ready whenever it's needed.

No...he needs something more...Potions will help, but will come times like yesterday where he won't have any...And when all else fails, the best and last defense of a hunter is their mind and their training...he needs more than some potions...he needs to shape his mind.


 "But how....How....you control...it?" he says to Filimena. "I saw...fire jump...from your veins...protects you...how...". He pause, takes a moment and try to clarifies his thoughts to both Raszire and Filimena "If fire is weapon...how you not scare....how master it?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:08, Mon 28 Oct 2019.

Filimena shakes her head slowly. Master it? She’s hardly remembers learning it.

“You don’t control magic. Well, maybe you do if you’re a wizard. But not me. I’m conduit, a medium, an arrow drawn, a cannon loaded. All I do is point the direction.” She raises her left arm and levels a finger at an odd-looking painting on a nearby wall of a woman wearing a live fox curled around the top of her head like a hat. Narrowing her eyes, she briefly considers letting loose a cantrip, perhaps nudging the painting with Mage Hand, or causing the woman (or the fox) to wink in a Minor Illusion. She decides against it, and relaxes again, turning back to Marik, her head tilted carelessly to the side.

“As for being afraid,” she begins again, confident at first, but something catches, and she swallows, her eyes dropping to her feet. “Where would I be now without this magic? Probably dead. They’ve kept me alive. They keep me alive so they can continue to use me. And actually, I’m not sure they can leave me even if they wanted to, so they need to keep me alive. They’re stuck with me, just as I’m stuck with them.” She gazes back up at Marik, then at Raszire, with a wan smile on her face. She shrugs, letting her body do the talking. What’s there to fear? She doesn’t mean it.

FIlimena stops to take another swig of her cider. She waves a hand casually in the air, as if you dismiss everything she’s said. ”You do what it takes to protect yourself,” she adds, with a moment’s hesitation. ”A potion’s a good start.”
This message was last edited by the player at 14:47, Tue 29 Oct 2019.

Not one to leave a drink empty, Shakurd tops off Filimena's glass with the last contents of the bottle.

[Private to Filimena the Gentle: dragon fire warms the drink
dragon flame marks the people
dragon heat changes the land]

She steps away to retrieve a sizable mug from behind the bar and filling it with a golden color liquid from one of the half-dozen beer taps. Setting the mug in front of Raszire she says, "Our house ale, Titan's Brew, my cousin Rayyan makes it for me." Glancing around she nods, "I saw Disanz earlier, said he'd be back later. He's usually here in the early afternoon."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:02, Tue 29 Oct 2019.

If he could blush, his scales would be flush at the moment. Hearing Shakurd chime in about the whereabouts of Disanz confirms that Raszire really needs to work on his whisper for more confidential conversations.

With the confirmation of Disanz's absence and a rather large beverage in front of him, he relaxes enough to pause and enjoy the wondrous brew.

"This is quite lovely, Shakurd. My compliments to your cousin!"

Chiming in on Filimena's statement, "Magic is different for most users. I too am a tool for my beneficiary, though I believe my Patron's intentions are a bit purer than those of Filimena's. No offense, Fil. I rarely feel like I "control" my magic. I'm still learning everything, so some of it is more effective than the rest, but without my Patron, I'd be nothing more than a street urchin with fire-breath and no direction." Raszire seems to get lost again in his thought, though this time aloud. As he rambles, he seems to lose the point that he was trying to make.

"Arrow....Tool..." says Marik, repeating slowly the vocabulary used by Filimena and Raszire...which somehow makes him even more uncomfortable than the ending discussion about potions and fire. "I not understand?....You speak of it like good thing....You trust powers...gods? You know there's more than ....life, death survival when dealing with ...powers...right? Tales told ...risks of serving...trusting blind... The Pale Mountain and the Storm-that-Speaks....Velara and the Sunkens Voices...The Demon Knight and The Living Sun...The Silver Dragon and the Moonweaver...Andel and The Eternal Garden....and others...many others...


OOC: Marik roll a 15 in Religion to try to remember a particularly good cautionary tale about the dangers of the dealings with the Gods and Higher powers.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:23, Thu 31 Oct 2019.

Filimena shrugs. "No offence taken," she says to Raszire, smiling to show she means it. "Although I wouldn't call their intentions impure. They wish to survive. Don't we all? In a way, the will to continue living is the purest of intentions."

Turning to Marik, she continues, somewhat distractedly, "I don't think it's a good thing. I don't think it's a bad thing either. As I said, we're stuck with each other. And really, I don't have to obey them. I have disobeyed them in the past. So maybe I'm not always a reliable tool. Just most of the time."

She looks down at her drink, and at her image reflected on the edges of the glass. The Voices had said something to her just then, about the dragon that had burnt the orchard that grew the apples that made this cider. They tell her the most random things sometimes, at the oddest moments. She glances up at Marik, at his injuries and where she recalls seeing scars. It wasn't a dragon that did that, was it? She tries to remember what he'd told them, back at the locksmith's, it feels like years ago, even though it's been just a few days.

"You speak from experience?" she asks, still looking at her drink, then looking up at Raszire's ale, as if considering it next.

Marik hesitate....do he mention them the vision...the feeling he had that night?


"Not...personal...experience, but those before us...wisdom of elders...There's reason my people...allies with spirits and beasts...instead gods or other powers...long history...but short version...sense of scale important... Spirits and elves co-exist...don't seek dominance...worship...control over others.... each important... Cooperation or mutual destruction...Gods can sacrifice...cities....worlds...to survive...can't trust..."

Internally, Marik isn't sure if he manage to make his point well...it's so much more complicated that that, he thinks...damn the Common langage and it's limits... (and the fact he doesn't feel that well rest...night was short)


"You say disobey....Have Voices...ever control? or try?" ask the elf.

Filimena winces. This is not something she prefers to talk about, necessarily. ”They can withhold their magic. They can fill my mind with voices and images that make it very hard to concentrate on anything else, to put it mildly. They have done both before, although in the end I always have to decide to act myself. Does that count as control?”

Marik check to make sure Sharkurd isn't listening to them and lean in more closely, sensing it might be a sensitive conversation in such a place. He also look at Raszire, as if looking for support.

"If they...power over your mind...I say yes. See you before...lose contact with us, with everything...could put you in danger...mortal danger if happen during combat. I understand not their wish now, but hard to predict how one mind can act...much less thousands of them trapped in book...."

Marik pause, thinking of something while taking another sip of wine. He looks intently at the book Filimena always carries with her.

"Do they live in Book? What would happen if you killed and another take book? Would they inhabit other mind?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:24, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:36, Fri 08 Nov 2019.

Filimena tilts her head in puzzlement, until she realises the misunderstanding. "They don't live in a book. A book is where I found them. They live in here now," she says, tapping the side of her head with the fingers of her left hand. "So you see, they have every interest in keeping me alive. If I die, well, I suspect so do they. Although, I suppose you are right. Ultimately, I don't know what it is they seek. But then, what can I do?" She sighs.

"Learn..." respond the elf "And find allies....powerful allies...to trust....This too important...dangerous...to tackle alone...need...old wisdom." says Marik as he thinks.


Marik rake his brain to think of who among the remaining Elders might be trusted with the information of what Filimena is...With those he know that remains, that would be either the Lord of Autumn or the Countess of Willow. For what he knows, as different as they are, both could either help Filimena with her curse or slay her on the spot. Marik can't help but feel they would be at least very curious about Filimena situation and take the time to consider the implications fully. If Filimena depiction are accurate, sentencing a entire civilization to death isn't something to be judged lightly...especially one possibly as old as they claim. If the Alganbassadur aren't a threat, they could prove to be a invaluable source of knowledge. Marik can't help but feel this would interest the Elders to the highest point. The Lord of Autumn and the Countess of Willow have been known to be ready to many a sacrifice to guard the secrets of the world...For this reason alone, they would probably help them...


....But maybe first they could search a way to simply transfer back these spirits out of Filimena mind and into something else like a book they could present, just in case... . They did transfer it once, surely they could do it twice?


Marik realize he's been silent for almost a minute, lost in his thoughts while a awkward silence was going by. He resume.

"I have ideas. Talk about it outside better. Important now is... find way to see what you control or not...like search if way...could remove them by...choice....Raszire? Ideas?"

Moving the plot here -> link to a message in this game