Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire.   Posted by Dungeon Master.Group: archive 0
Dungeon Master
 GM, 246 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Mon 22 May 2006
at 03:46
Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire
Kythorn 29, 1373DR
Early Morning
Stormy



After much thought and discussion Serol begrudgingly acknowledged that Darwin's puzzle would only be solved only by a wizard and so he wished Darwin luck and settled into his bed.  The night was long and torturous.  Much needed sleep was denied by the howling wind and crashes of lightning that shook the Red Rose Inn to its very foundation.  It was as if Talos himself rode the clouds above to deny Kossuth's Burning Brazier a decent night's sleep.

The smell of frying bacon wafted up the stairs, down the hall, under the door and into the room announcing that it was morning though one could not tell it by the darkness of the stromy sky.  Giving up any hope of rst Serol rose for his morning prayers.

This message was last edited by the GM at 04:02, Mon 22 May 2006.

Serol Kinspar
 player, 199 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Mon 22 May 2006
at 15:26
Re: Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire
The fitful night's sleep had been most unwelcome, as had the storm that caused him such troubles.  He had a long ride ahead of him, and was not looking forward to doing it in the muddy rain.

His eyes snapped open a few minutes before sunrise as his internal body clock had become acustomed.  He stifled a yawn hearing his jaw creak with the force of it.  He shook his head trying to clear the last reminents of sleep from his mind.  Once again the weather struck him as unfortunate.  He would be unable to work his chain once again.  All the more he longed to be back within the hallowed temple walls.

The large cleric stood to kneel upon the bedroll that he had slept another night upon.  In the inn it served as both bed and prayer mat.  He closed his eyes and focused upon the flame in his morning ritual.  It lept to his mind bright and hot ready to burn away all of the impurites of his being.  He shovled his emotions into the flame and watched with some satisfaction as they were burned to ash in front of him.

With the last of his emotions burned away he floated in emptiness, aware of everything yet personalizing none of it.  He was aware of the others in the room.  He was aware of the sound of the rain pelting the roof of the large inn, yet none of it seemed to affect him, like a story told by somebody else.

Within the meditative state he began to pray, "Almighty Kossuth," he intoned with his deep baratone voice, "guide me now this day as I return home to you your faithful amoung the wild.  Bring me now to the temple, my home and let my flame join with the flames of others to burn as a bonfire to your will and power.  Watch over me, for with your attentive care I know that not even the greatest flood can douse me nor the greatest wind snuff out the message that I carry.  Temper me with challanges so that when my time upon this world is finished I am worthy to stand with you in the realm of eternal flame.  All honor and glory is yours."

Serol stayed in silent prayer for some time yet overjoyed by his communion with the god he so loved.  It was many minutes before he opened his eyes and released the flame in his head.

Without the purifying flame reality crashed back upon his broad shoulders with rushed abandon.  The pain in his knees reminded him of how long he had prayed.  A look around the room confirmed that he was the first of the guardians awake and the smell of food from down stairs reminded him he had eaten little in the last twenty-four hours.

A glance out the window to the soggy weather reminded him that a hot meal today, would be a difficult thing to come by.  He left his armor by his bedroll with the hope that perhaps Peter or Dorn would assist him with it before he left the inn and simply went down stairs in the holy red robes of his god.

Since no one is up to help me don my armor, he'll throw on his clerical vestments and head downstairs.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:00, Mon 22 May 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 251 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Tue 23 May 2006
at 05:41
Re: Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire
The usually tidy tavern showed signs of the large clientelle from teh night before.  Crumbs and dried puddles were evident on the floor and a large pile of dirty glasses set on one end of the bar.  Jebodiah greeted you warmly as always "Good morning to ye Serol.  Sorry about the mess, one of my barmaids never showed up last night, she must have known this storm was going to be rolling in.  Quite a bugger isn't it?  Beats a winter storm though that's for sure.  What will you be having this morning?"
Serol Kinspar
 player, 200 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Tue 23 May 2006
at 21:51
Re: Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire
Serol nodded his head politely at the Innkeeper's apology.  He had a very good idea who that barmaid was that never showed up.  He had no doubt that Jebodiah would be seeing Camille very soon.  He had no doubt that the events surrounding her would be very big news in Rosewood.

Serol was polite but in general he disliked small talk.  He simply ordered his food and ate in silence as he awaited his fellow guardians to awake.  He did, however mention to the innkeep before returning to his room in hopes that Peter, Darwin or Dorn might be up and willing to help him into his armor, "I will be leaving Rosewood for a short period of time.  My companions are aware, but should someone else seek me, I trust you would be good enough to inform them of my delay and extend my apologies?"  It was a simple request and one he was reasonably sure that Jebodiah would do anyway, but if the innkeep might be expected to answer to his whereabouts it was only right he be enlightened to where or how long he might be gone.

Once he was sure that the answers to the letters he had prepared last night might find a home he returned up the stairs as the cock crowed.  He knew if his companions were not up yet his wait would be short.

After donning his equipment and repacking his saddlebags and bedroll, the cleric once more made his way down the stairs.  He glanced out the door between the inn's common room and stable yard.  It was hard to keep the groan from his face seeing the rain pouring down.  Still there was not much to do but pull the hood of his cloak up and be on with it.

He never did care for rain.

I'm sorry if I accelerated too quickly.  Feel free to backtrack as needed, but I thought it best to get on the road quickly both ICly and OOCly.

This message was last edited by the player at 21:52, Tue 23 May 2006.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 254 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Wed 24 May 2006
at 04:28
Re: Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire
No problems, I'm glad you did.

Jebodiah respected your desire to eat quietly and busied himself with the stack of used mugs on the bar.  "Most certainly Serol, no problem at all." he said when you took your leave.


The roads were slick with mud and the wagon ruts were pooled with water.  There was really but one main road leaving Rosewood to any place of consequence and down that road you travelled even as the rain slowly permeated every bit of clothing you wore.  Besides making you cold and miserable the heavy rain obscured much of the beautiful countryside and the muddy brown road was your only entertainment.

Noon came and went before the rain stopped but the sky remained overcast and dreary.  You had passed nobody on the road and figured you likely would not until you were closer to Iriaebor.  No sooner did you have the thought than a wagon appeared in the distance coming toward you.
Serol Kinspar
 player, 201 posts
 Firey temper, pleasant
 speaking voice
Wed 24 May 2006
at 13:00
Re: Serol Kinspar - Terraces of Fire
Serol squinted in the distance.  With the roads wetted down by the recent rain he knew he would have no dust trail to warn him of oncoming traffic.  By the time he spotted the wagon, he knew there was little he could do and all stealth was useless.

He didn't really expect to be waylayed upon the road by a merchant's wagon.  They would have far more to loose than himself.  But this was the Western Heartlands and any road could be dangerous, especially alone.

He simply moved Vael over to the side of the road allowing the wagon pleanty of room and halted his horse.  One hand tugged at the hood of his soaking cloak pulling it off revealing his gleeming helm.  He made sure the visor was still up, to not hamper his vision and simply waited for the wagon to pass.

A lone horse on a well traveled road should cause the wagon no problems, even more the case when he went out of his way to allow the wagon space to pass.  He doubted anything would come of the chance encounter and simply hoped the wagon rode by allowing him, once more, to be alone on the road on his way to Iriaebor.

Still a wise man showed caution in even simple situations.  He made sure his cloak was free of his saddle and his right hand rested upon the pouch at his waist that held his mighty chain.  If things got ugly he wanted to make sure he could react.