Rekindling a Flame.   Posted by Dungeon Master.Group: 0
Dungeon Master
 GM, 722 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Wed 10 Jan 2007
at 17:38
Rekindling a Flame
Continued from Return to the Firehammer Ruinslink to a message in "3.5 DnD - Guardians of Rosewood"


Flamerule 10, 1373DR
Evening



By the time the Guardians were ready to depart Rosewood for Iriaebor in hopes of having Serol Kinspar raised from the dead the word had spread through the small town of his death.  Some in town quietly celebrated the fact that the zealot had perished and foolishly pointed out that Lathander alone had protected them for ages and they were better for it.  Others mourned openly for the mighty man who had delivered himself to them in their time of vulnerability and by all accounts had been a major reason that the goblins no longer plagued hunting parties to the north and east.  Still others pointed to the refusal of the Guardians to accept the townsfolk’s gifted cloaks as the reason for their misfortune.  Everyone however, even the ones relieved to see Kossuth’s servant leave their town, showed heart-felt respect for him.  The people of Rosewood were good folk after all and appreciated sacrifice.  Now many of the townsfolk lined the road out of town to show that respect.

The townsfolk were somber and stoic as they stood out of respect, shifting from foot to foot as they waited while some of the younger children scurried around the skirts of their mothers but by in large the silence was deafening.  And touching.

Peter rode ahead of the wagon where Dorn, Antoine and Ramor rode along with the casket that bore Serol’s body.  Near the end of the long line of people a little girl, no more than five summers broke free of her mother’s grip and rushed out in front of Peter’s horse.  “You will return won’t you?  The goblins took my papa and my mama is worried that you won’t return, without you what will we do when the goblins return?”  Large innocent eyes bearing a sputtering flame of hope accompanied the question for a moment before her mother pulled her back in line by the frayed neck of her peasant dress.  The mother was so embarrassed for her daughter’s actions that she could not bear to meet the eyes of any of the Guardians, nor anyone else for that matter.

It was some time after passing by the last of the townsfolk that any of the Guardians spoke.  The town of Rosewood needed them, that much was sure, but what could the town offer them in return for their sacrifices made and sacrifices to come.  It was a moment of deep soul searching for each of them.  The morning stretched on as the rhythmic creaking and groaning of the wagon became a familiar melody that sung away the minutes and hours.   Familiar sites were passed, Bud and Camille’s Orchard, the place they left the trail in search of the giant, the place north to the abandoned Firehammer Clanhome, familiar sites that added to their mix of emotions and reminded them of the dangers that surrounded them.

They stopped only when necessary to feed and water the horses.  Their own hungers were sated and thirsts slaked as they moved, time was of the essence.  The evening was soon upon them and a decision would need to be made about whether to press on through the night or make camp and wait for the morning to continue their journey.
Ramor ibn Adnan
 player, 174 posts
Wed 10 Jan 2007
at 21:22
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Ramor was touched by the display of emotions from the families of Rosewood.  He also tooksome satisfaction in what Fulgar's Five intended for a farse had proven all too true to the men and women of this hamlet.  As the small child made her way to the street and told of her worry, a part of the enigmatic wizard was flooded with emotion.  He carefully put down the spellbook on the cart bench, and pulled a handful of fragrant rose petals from one of his spell component pouches.  Quietly he said, "Hold, Dorn," and hopped off the wagon seat to approach the girl.  He knelt down on the cold ground next to her and her mother.  Holding the rose petals above his head, he let them trickle down into his other palm, soothingly uttering arcane words to draw the heat from the air and the petals themselves.  Ice formed around them, trapping the red, red petals in a clear casing that resembled the rose that they came from.

"Little one, we will return, but those that harmed your family will not."  Ramor did not know of what goblins the child spoke of, but the Guardians must have rid the area of the threat before his arrival.  The Calishite looked up to the mother with an honest sympathy.  "She's a beautiful girl; you've done well.  Please, don't worry.  We will return as soon as I deliver my brother to his temple.  These Guardians and I are doing all we can to keep Rosewood safe."  With that he returned to the wagon, and picked up his captured spellbook once again.  He flipped the page carefully with his black fingernail.  "Carry on, Master Rockfist.  We've a long journey ahead."

Throughout the ride, Ramor watched the road half as often as his eyes roamed over the pages of elven wizardress' spellbook, eager to find anything at all that might help him and the Guardians in their impending battles.  Pausing at dusk for a  quick break, he posed the question, "Should we press on? We can take turns sleeping in the wagon, and time is of the essence."
Antoine D'Marque
 player, 465 posts
 How do I pick locks with
 these things?
Thu 11 Jan 2007
at 08:32
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Like Ramor, Antoine too was touched by both the sending off by the residents of Rosewood and more notibly, the little girl who pleaded for help from the Guardians.  The young woman hopped down off the wagon with the wizard and also knealt down beside the girl.  Ramor's gift of magic was truly impressive, not because it was full of colour and pyrotechnics, but because of the symbol he presented to the child.  In turn, Antoine deftly selected two silver pieces from her pouch.

"You see these silver coins little one?" she said.  "Now these are a very special pair of coins that are only given to friends, friends who keep promises.  Now, you take this one," Antoine handed one of the coins to the girl, "and I will keep this one.  Because you have that and because we promise to return, then I have to come back and give you my coin, okay?  So you take take of yours and soon, these special coins will be back together again."  Slowly, Antoine placed the coin into her pouch, gave the little girl a warm smile and climbed back into the wagon.


Soon, Rosewood was far behind the Guardians, but for Antoine, it was only literally not metaphorically.  The troubles in the area would be catastrophic should Kendra's plan, with the help of the Guardians, go awry.  Still, things were left unanswered such as who Fulgar's fifth was and would Eloranth and Willow dispatch Fulgar?  When would they do it and how?

Her thoughts of the dark druidess caused Antoine to frown.  It was only days ago that she sought Willow's wisdom on the matter of her 'affliction'.  How foolish Antoine had been to not trust her instincts about her.  Such different words were given to her only yesterday by Tristan and Antoine knew in her heart the difference between the two.  Both revered their own deities and yet only one of them really listened to the rogue's plight.

Antoine then thought back to the little girl from Rosewood and the promise she had made to her.  Would she have done the same thing mere days ago?  Antoine could not be sure, however the Dawnbringer was right, the magicks around the Firehammer ruins had cleared her clouded mind and with Tristan's help and advice, perhaps now the path was no longer jaded.

Before the guardians knew it, the day had turned into evening and the night beckoned.  Antoine thought not of stopping, only reaching Iriaebor as quickly as possible so their business could be concluded and they would be in time for the rendez-vous with Kendra.  "Let us not stop and press on during the night," said Antoine to her friends.  "The animals will need to rest but not as much as we.  We can rest for around four hours during the middle of the night and at other times, one of us can drive while the others sleep."

It was a suggestion that Antoine hoped the others would agree to.
Dorn Rockfist
 player, 406 posts
 Dwarven Caver
 'What ye look'n at?'
Thu 11 Jan 2007
at 08:45
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Dorn sat stoicly in the wagon. He held the reins of the team of horses in his hand as Ramor and Antoine spoke to the little girl. He pulled out his pipe as he waited for them to climb back aboard.

"Hrumph" The dwarf replied when he was asked to start the team of horses again. With a snap of the reins the horses moved forward.

When the talk of pressing on was suggested, the dwarf considered the options. "Nay. These horses were already tired when we got them. We canna push them more today. Maybe tomorrow night, besides the road will be better the closer we get ta Iriaebor. The horses canna see well in the dark. We donna want ta risk them turning an ankle."

"But we canna start at the crack of dawn."
The dwarf prepared to stop at the next suitable campsite. He took the time to prepare the horses for a night of rest. The horse would be working hard in the morning.
Peter Aubary
 player, 374 posts
 Corymrean Scholar
Thu 11 Jan 2007
at 16:05
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Peter was surprised by the small girl’s plead and he struggled to control his own emotions. Luckily for the scholar his companions were not so dumb struck. To his aid came both Antoine and Ramor. Peter was pleased with the current change in Antoine and revelled in the display of magic from Ramor. For him the delicate rose held it’s own natural beauty and also the beauty of the magic that had reformed it.

On the road the young man wiped a tear from his eyes. It would definitely be a difficult journey. Peter remained for the most of the day apart from the others and they to seemed to be content with their own thoughts. When the group stopped for a moment to water the horses Peter was delighted in Ramor attention. He willingly let the mage make use of his special spectacles.  ”Why of course you can borrow the Darwin’s glasses. Though I worry for the wizard. I know not if he knows the full extent of what is to come in the future. I fear that we may have to face him when we confront Fulgar's Five.” The scholar said little more as he concentrated on riding the new horse.

When both Ramor and Antoine suggested riding through the night Peter’s shoulders slumped and he plodded on despondently until Dorn stopped the wagon and proceeded to prepare camp. Eager to be out of the saddle Peter eased himself off the horse and rubbed himself sorely. ”I for one could do with a rest too.” Peter remarked to Dorn as he tried to aid the dwarf in brushing down the horses, before he staggered over to the campsite to sit down gingerly.
Ramor ibn Adnan
 player, 175 posts
Thu 11 Jan 2007
at 20:36
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Ramor was flustered with the need to camp again in the wild, but remembered vaguely that Jintanna appeared only to those who were dreaming.  His heart fluttered at even the possibility of meeting the nymph again, but he was unsure if he ever would.  He also did not know how far she and her pegasus friend, Paragon, ranged from the city.  Could they meet again tonight? He had read through the pages of the spellbook with 'Darwin's' spectacles, which he graciously accepted from Peter.  Upon the scholar's musings regarding his friend, Ramor honed in like a hawk on easy prey.  "Tell me all you know of your friend, Darwin.  If indeed we must face him, I would know his tactics.  I assume that he was with you when you defeated the goblin tribe that so endeared you to the people of Rosewood? If he made these spectacles, then his expertise might lie off of the battlefield, which may be to our advantage."  Ramor thought for a moment before asking, "How many others are there that worked with you, or held the title 'Guardian' that are still alive? If one has been subsumed by Fulgar and his three companions, others might be as well.  Also, the dwarf mentioned that you've cloaks like the one found in the ruins.  What is their significance, and where are they?"

A crease formed on the wizard's brow.  He had been lax in his approach to these companions, reveling in the pursuit of his own power and the path of Kossuth.  He wondered how he would have approached them had not the Tyrant of Fire provided a way for him to fall in their graces so early.  They were certainly as true of companions as ever there were, and the Calishite was grateful for them.  "What else can you tell me about Fulgar's Five? Why would one of the members of the Harper's lackeys be wearing a cloak like one presented only to 'Guardians' if he was not one of you?"
Peter Aubary
 player, 375 posts
 Corymrean Scholar
Thu 11 Jan 2007
at 20:58
Re: Rekindling a Flame
The scholar usually so full of questions of his own was surprised by Ramor own vigourous questioning. ”Why I don’t think I’m going to be able to answer all yours questions. But I really hope we do not have to fight Darwin. Though I don’t think the battlefield was ever where he wanted to be. The goblins we fought knocked him off his feet, though not before his magic had wreaked havoc among there numbers. His magic was much like your own. He used magics that could clearly be seen and had an obvious impact. His passion was always to enchant and imbue items with magic which is why he entered his apprenticeship with Eloranth.” The scholar paused briefly to consider things and take a breath. ”I was so happy for him when he told me of his bright future but now I feel so worried for his safety. He is not the only Guardian to have vanished though. There was another hin like Horrace who disappeared in the night and K’torri a bard who was killed by the Velsharoon cultists.”

With the thought of death on his mind the scholar went and drifted away from the mage and let him continue his studies but when they settled down in their wilderness camp Peter approached the mage. ”You were asking about the cloaks. I can’t say I know anything about them apart from the fact that we were presented them by Mayor Hawthorne. I could detect no magic upon them and we all decided in suspicious minds that we would not wear them. I can not guess how the Harper’s acquired one, unless Hawthorne is connected to them.”
Ramor ibn Adnan
 player, 176 posts
Fri 12 Jan 2007
at 04:15
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Listening intently to every word that the scholar uttered, Ramor filed the man's perception of his friend Darwin and of himself.  The scholar had a very good grasp on the fundamentals of magic, and an impressive understanding of its basic building blocks - even enough to manipulate them! - yet the wizardly art still eluded him.  It was true that a lot of the magic Ramor had used in the company of the Guardians was of an obvious nature, and he sincerely hoped that Peter knew Darwin better than he knew the Calishite.  The crafting of magical items, however, required a patience that Ramor simply didn't have.  Making minor and sometimes major magical effects permanent in the form of a rod, or ring, or cloak was the job of a craftsman, and not an artist.  Certainly the items were necessary, as furniture and ovens were necessary, but interesting or challenging? Not to Ramor ibn Adnan.  Hopefully the attitude of Darwin was at least as bookish as the worldly scholar, and more interested in making things rather than empowering the Weave.  Ramor's respect for Peter was growing daily, and he took every word to heart.  "I will remember all that you have said.  If the threat is as grave as the Harper imagines, our preparations and dealings in Iraeibor will be vital.  We will not have much time to dally, and every shred of information may become vital."

The night promised to be long and uncomfortable.  Ramor laid in the back of the wagon, beside the coffin of his friend.  It did not bother him, as he really did not think of Kinspar as being dead at all.  His purpose was not yet completed.  Kossuth, let your hand guide my steps, and your will my lips. 
Antoine D'Marque
 player, 467 posts
 How do I pick locks with
 these things?
Fri 12 Jan 2007
at 10:48
Re: Rekindling a Flame
Antoine shrugged, "Ok Dorn, perhaps you're right.  Of course, we have to be mindful that although the horses need rest, we cannot afford to take too much time."

The rogue hopped down off the cart and began to help Dorn prepare the campsite.  "If Serol were here, I'm sure he could help the hor..."  She did not and could not bring herself to finish that sentence.  [Serol was here, is here...sort of...] she thought to herself.  "Well...you know what I mean..." she mumbled before stepping out to collect some kindling.
Peter Aubary
 player, 376 posts
 Corymrean Scholar
Fri 12 Jan 2007
at 15:46
Re: Rekindling a Flame


The Guardian’s new companion Ramor though formidable in power and appearance was a welcomed addition thought the scholar. Never to be a true wizard himself Peter held the Calishite in high regard. If it were not for their imminent arrival in Iriaebor Peter would have quizzed Ramor ceaselessly on the south lands. Whereas nervously he asked what the city was like. ”Ramor how is the city of Iriaebor I have be never been there?” Peter did not make mention that he had not been to many places not wanting the worldly Calishite on think less of the up until now stay at home Cormyrean.

Aware that they would have little time to rest in the coming days Peter settled down to attempt to sleep early in the evening.
Dorn Rockfist
 player, 407 posts
 Dwarven Caver
 'What ye look'n at?'
Fri 12 Jan 2007
at 17:17
Re: Rekindling a Flame
"Good it's settled then. We'll have a short night and then be off before the sun rises."

The dwarf finish preparing things for the night. He thought of unloading Serol from the bed of the wagon, but that seemed a lot of work when he would have to only reload him in the morning.

"Wake me for the last watch. I'll get the horses ready at the same time."
Dungeon Master
 GM, 725 posts
 Blessing the Rolers
 Cursing the Rollers
Fri 12 Jan 2007
at 18:02
The Watcher
Flamerule 11, 1373DR
Late Morning



Each of the Guardians took a short watch to accompany their short slumbers and each, in the pit of their stomach, knew the same thing.  They were being watched.

They all felt it, they all knew it, they were all impotent to do anything about it.  All they could is wait for the arrows to end them or the steel to claim them.  Nothing answered the Guardians' challenges, nothing moved too near the light of their fire to be seen, and nothing revealed itself with noise.  Still, that nothing was something.

The Guardians were awake and the wagon packed before dawn and when sky lightened enough for the horses to see the road they left.  The feeling that they were being watched did not.

Whatever it was that haunted them had no intention of revealing itself and so the Guardians did their best to push the feeling from their minds as dawn broke over the land which in turn blossomed into a warm, sunny morning.  The sun had not yet reached its zenith when the towering spires of Iriaebor came into sight.

Ramor recalled vividly his last visit to the place while to the others it was their first glimpse of the city of spires.  Indeed it was fortuitous that Ramor had fallen in with them else they could have wandered for hours through the narrow streets cut between the towering buildings of stone.  As it was Ramor was quick to point out the ziggurat temple of Kossuth as they closed in upon the city and recalled various merchant houses that may provide the best deals for the Guardians' surplus goods.

Whew, you survived the night and have arrived ssafely in Iriaebor.
Peter Aubary
 player, 377 posts
 Corymrean Scholar
Sun 14 Jan 2007
at 20:36
Re: The Watcher
Peter was awed by the big city but he did his best not to show it. With the crowded streets ahead he was forced to dismount the horse that had so faithfully carried him here. Leading the horse he kept it between him and the others so he could freely stare agog at all he saw without interruption. He assumed there would travel directly to the temple of Kossuth and let the wagon take the lead so that he could follow as Ramor led them.

What wonders he would find he did not yet know but the glory of Iriaebor and its magnificent towers enthralled him still? He imagined that here he could get whatever he dreamed of and had to only guess at what great and marvellous magic he might encounter in their short visit less of all the restoration of Serol.

So enchanted the scholar did not speak to the others as he day-dreamed a thousand different possibilities.
Bran
 player, 20 posts
Sun 14 Jan 2007
at 20:46
Re: The Watcher
Sure that he was being watched the small song bird soon began to revert to his animal instincts. A preying bird could easily make a meal from the raven and if an attacker possessed talons like a falcon Bran could not easily defend himself.

He would not let himself be hunted so simply and swore to discover what it was that hunted him. His link with Peter meant he did not have to worry of losing the others even if he was separated by a great distance.

Relying on a combination of intellect and animal cunning the black raven crowed once before he sprang from the wagon and darted into the sky. Wheeling in the air he began to fly lazy circles around it. As his circuits grew larger so did his altitude rise.

Once at the city appeared on the horizon even the cool bird was forced to appreciate its immense size and its influence on the surroundings.


21:43, Today: Bran rolled 26 using 1d20+6. Search for watcher.
21:43, Today: Bran rolled 15 using 1d20+10. Spot watcher.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:47, Sun 14 Jan 2007.

Ramor ibn Adnan
 player, 177 posts
Mon 15 Jan 2007
at 03:08
Re: The Watcher
Ramor's face twisted as soon as he saw the City of a Thousand Spires.  Dank, dismal, and still bustling with trade during its busiest season, things had not changed in Iriaebor at all in the week that the wizard had been gone.  He quickly put away the spellbook he had been studying since memorizing his own spells for the morning, and ducked into the back of the rolling wagon.  He rummaged through Serol's things until he found what he was looking for, and tucked it securely away, returning to the bench on the front of the wagon with the dwarf.  Speaking loud enough for all of the Guardians to hear, Ramor said, "Do not take offense at anything that I might say when we arrive at the temple, and do not contest it.  If either Tendril Vilthanus or the Eternal Flame bid you speak, defer to me, as at least Vilthanus will not care what you have to say anyway.  It is a dangerous situation, as all politics inevitably become, and I do not know exactly what to expect.  It is my goal to see our friend brought back to life, and his enemy, Vilthanus, exposed.  I have my own payment to collect from this exchange, and the words that I will use will be truthful, yet obsfuacting.  This is the best hope that we have of seeing Kinspar whole and alive again - you'll have to trust me, regardless of what you hear."

Ramor cast a minor spell to rid himself of the dirt of travel once they were closer to the gate, and divested himself of his shirt and coat.  The puckered pink scar on his chest was definitely the shape of a flame with a white center.  He removed his black bracers, leaving the multi-colored tattoos on his muscular arms unobstructed from blackened fingernail all the way to his biceps.  With his wild, red hair waving in the wind, the wizard pulled on his simple, black vest and left it hanging open to catch the breeze.  There would be no doubt upon arriving at the temple that Kossuth had indeed left his mark, for good or ill, upon the Calishite.  Holding the staff in his still-tender hands hurt the sensitive skin, but gave him confidence to face the trials ahead.

At the gate of the city, the wizard found the eye of the foolish guard who had warned him about the road to Rosewood only a week before.  Calling out to him with acidic sarcasm, Ramor said, "The road back is easier, though the troll kept trying to stand until I burnt it to a crisp."  The wizard's sinister smile crept across his face, and even allowed a short burst of laughter to escape at the incredulous look on the man's face.

"The ziggurat is the temple of Kossuth, it should be easy enough to find, Master Rockfist."  Confidence, surety.  They had entered Ramor's voice almost of their own volition as the temple could be clearly seen.  Goblins, trolls, chimeras, and even a magical double would be less trouble and less danger than what the Calishite thought awaited he and the Guardians inside the temple, but he would face it as he had all his other challenges in life - with power.  Kossuth, let me be your hand!

This message was last edited by the player at 04:02, Mon 15 Jan 2007.

Antoine D'Marque
 player, 469 posts
 How do I pick locks with
 these things?
Mon 15 Jan 2007
at 09:36
Re: The Watcher
Although the night had passed peacefully, Antoine was sure something was out there.  Part of her was also sure that she caught a scent of something or other on the occasional breeze but she decided not to transform into the wolf, purely for emotional reasons.  And so she tried to put it to the back of her mind and rest and rest she did, although not easily.

The morning came quickly and Antoine was surprised that the night was uneventful.  The dawn light offered no insight as to whether anything was actually out 'there' or not yet she could smell nothing sinister in the morning and so let it be.

Later, as the guardians rolled into Iraiebor with the corpse of the fallen priest, Antoine could not help but relish in the excitement of hustle and bustle that would greet them.  She felt, of course, that the place lacked the charisma and brightness which Sembia offered, however a new place was an interesting place to roam and adventure.  However, no such plans could be afforded to her.  She was here on urgent business only and then the group would need to depart for Rosewood.  Perhaps another time then...

Antoine listened to Ramor as the wagon rumbled through the streets of Iraiebor.  The words he spoke were confusing and it sounded to her as though this church of Serol's, or at least some guy in it, harboured some hatred for the fallen guardian.  Furthermore, unless Antoine was mistaken, Ramor seemed to intimate that he would have to say things to church officials that might either be untrue or slightly skewed in some way.  Either way, Antoine was happy to let Ramor do the talking, the wizard obviously had dealt with these people before and she was equally happy for someone else to do the "political manouvering".  "Sure Ramor," she agreed simply.
Dorn Rockfist
 player, 408 posts
 Dwarven Caver
 'What ye look'n at?'
Tue 16 Jan 2007
at 02:43
Re: The Watcher
"Hrumph." Was all that the dwarf said when Ramor mentioned the politics involved at the temple. It was sour faith as far as he was concerned. The dour dwarf grew more dour as the wagon got closer to the temple.

Would they raise Serol from the dead? If these priests knew better they should. The dwarf shook his dark thoughts from his mind. If Serol was a dwarf, Dorn would know where to take him. But he was a man, so they would have to do it here in Iraiebor.