In reply to Krackor Steelfist (msg # 47):

Euin shook his head and chuckled "I'm sure I have, but I am grateful for it Master Steelfist. Though you have yet to see me use it, my sword is at the Company's... and your service. I owe my life to you all. I shall not forget that."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Sat 15 Aug 2020.

Krackor gets the Invis

09:08, Today: Corym Ildroun rolled 14 using 1d20.

Probably not a lot of posting today.  Our family has had two more deaths in two weeks, and my father-in-law who ran away with another woman to another country five years ago is supposed to be dropping in today to make amends.

#Drama

Karilla nodded. "Do what you must, little human. Scream if you need me."

As she continued to feed her kank's favorite ferns, she reflected on the changes that she will need to make now that she was back. She knew that her previous modes of survival would most likely get her ostracized and killed out here.

She took solace in the fact that she has a friend like Corym. It was not surprising to her that he followed when she ran. She loved her brother dearly but, in her mind, they were too different to be considered close friends. She smiled slightly when she recognized that kindred spirit and friendship that she continue to have with Corym, despite the changes she had endured over the years.

After a bit of practice moving together up and down the old inn's central hall, Corym declares you ready to move out. The group reassembles in the kitchen, forming a chain with Krackor in the center. All of you vanish. Corym gives a soft trill to let you know he's moving out to scout, and then silence falls again.

You give him a short song to get in position and scan the area. He doesn't see anything, and soon the call comes to move out. Krackor leads the way, the soft rattle and clank of his plate mail providing helpful in keeping the same pace, even as you glance around in concern that someone will hear.

When Myth Drannor was alive, a well-travelled trail led from the street to the inn's kitchen. You can still make out the occasional sand-colored flagstone that hasn't been completely subsumed by dirt and grass. While the paving is mostly gone, the trail itself has been well-trod by the hobgoblins. You move down it quickly to the road. Directly across the street is the building that the group has been using for a base. As you move towards it at your slow pace, Euin and Kas take a moment to take it in.

It is like one of the bard's songs of Myth Drannor had sprung from the strings and grown root. A building made seemingly from a single crystal, it looks like the frozen sea in a storm. Glowing motes of magical light chase each other across its pale blue surface. It's about a hundred and fifty feet long and a hundred feet wide at its largest extent, but it sort of bulges and recedes all along its facade. Aside from some of the narrow windows and the large, ironwood door, you don't see any right angles. Everything is either bent in one direction or another. A forty foot wide tower anchors the south eastern corner, the corner closest to the road.

Krackor leads you to the door. There's a soft sound, as though the building was sighing, as the door sinks into the ground. Visually, however, it appears unchanged. You glance up at the roof, where Sirenya is keeping watch and maintaining the illusion of the closed door, but you don't see the vanisher.

Stepping through the illusion, you find yourself in an entry hall. A "mudroom" as the humans of the Dales call it. A closed door to further into the mansion is in front of you, and there are stairs going upwards to your right. The door to the outside closes with another soft sigh.

You have escaped the hobgoblins and returned to safety. Well, as much safety as there every is in Myth Drannor. But for the moment, you can breathe.

Kora comes running down the stairs. "I'm assuming you're back; Sirenya said you came in. I didn't see anything moving around out there. Did the hobgoblins put up much of a fight?"

“The fight of their lives, to be precise.” Corym quipped as he made it back in the door. “Go farther in, and take your leisure. I’ll wait for Kitheras here.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:10, Sun 16 Aug 2020.

Kitheras

You follow behind the rest of the group, doing your best to obscure the group's tracks. Euin, at least, has a fair bit of woodscraft and steps lightly. Qasida not so much, though she's obviously trying. And it's a far cry from, say, twenty armored Sembians. You enter the mansion not long after the rest of the group, having seen nothing moving in the ruins.

You promptly walk into someone. Staggering backward, your cloak billows, revealing you. On the stairs, Kora giggles.

In reply to DM (msg # 54):

Keeping watch as he moved and moving as quietly as he could, Krackor moved carefully towards their base.

Once the door dropped, he encouraged everyone forward, whispering Everyone, please move through the door in front, it is open, this is an illusion to hide our entry.  Once inside, he hear then watched as Kora came down the stairs and almost into the group.

Mistress Lightbearer, Kora, we are here.  Please can you all move forward through the next door in front and wait there, you should exit the spells area of effect whilst we wait for Kitheras.  He stayed by the door in case he was needed and was almost bowled over when Kitheras arrived. Wow there Kitheras, we are all here and safe.  Corym, Kitheras, the others are through there in the hall where the Lightning was.  Can you dismiss the spell now please?  Thank you

Krackor wanted to put his things down without anyone tripping up over them, including himself.  No matter how acutely aware of the rooms layouts he was, if the things are not visible or moving, nor making a sound, how was he expected to do his job!

Corym dismissed the magic preserving the invisibility of the companions, and for the first time he really comes into view for the new arrivals.

A fairly average looking Moon Elf, it is mostly his accoutrements that stand out.  Around his torso, upper thighs, and upper arms the elf wears a webbing of leather bound tightly to his body from which many tools hang near at hand but secure.  Vials and filters march up one strap, and a blackened looking wand sits strapped across the small of his back.  An infrequently used shortsword hangs handle down vertically on his torso and a small compound bow rides in a hard boiled leather sheath on his back.  Very uncommon for elves, this is the tighter and more compact short bow of a Tuigan horseman.  His hands are adorned by clawed suede gloves.  In all he seems like a chaotic mish-mash of equipment gathered hither and yon from around the globe.  And while none of the equipment seems to belong together, it does seem to be distinctly unified in him.  In some broader sense it all fulfills some larger purpose in the elf's design.

Corym, himself, seemed somewhat uncomfortable with his appearance--as if there were too many eyes on him.  This wasn't typically how he allowed himself to be seen.  While his face took in the new strangers, one could fairly imagine infinitesimally intricate gears and cogs whirring away behind his eyes.  Calculating. Thinking.

"Corym Ildroun," he broke the silence abruptly. "And these fellows are all members of the Dreams of the Ancients Exploration Company."  You could see a smile begin to break through his lips as if he wanted to let his guard down, wanted to be at ease.  Ease, however, was for other places--not Myth Drannor. "We're a joint-stock for-profit company with a community interest in the restoration of lost art, artifacts, and lore. We have a regular election of leadership, but retain a devolved democratic polity in the absence of emergencies."  He puts a hand to his brow as if his thoughts were racing faster than his mouth could process them.

Calculation, prescription, and legalism give way temporarily to passion. "We're here to restore what is lost, you see.  To enrich the world again from coffers constructed of ancient dreams.  To strengthen communities on the brink. To gather scattered peoples." His eyes flick to Euin.  "We're very glad to have been of service, and very glad to have found you."  His eyes flick to Kas, "You're a holy warrior?" His eyes widen, he gathers himself--breathe.  She's not Yurkal. "This isn't our tower, we're guests of our hostess.  You have to agree to help defend our hostess for so long as you remain beneath her roof--agreed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Tue 18 Aug 2020.

The noble elf stretched like a cat.  Stealthy movement and the obliteration of tracks in stealth had a way of really tightening up ones muscles uncomfortably.  Self-possessed and at ease, the Sunblade scion stood tall in the doorway behind Corym and he caught the latter half of what the peculiar elf was saying.

He was concerned, as he listened, that being here--a place that for Corym really represented the convergence of many dreams--might be overwhelming Corym's mental faculties.

He put a hand on Corym's shoulder lightly.  "Be easy Corym.  They're not going anywhere.  We don't have to rush the story. A life's tale can't be told in a moment."

He could understand though.  To his Captain it must seem that his dream was within his grasp--how could one be patient when so nearby the object of one's ambition?  He regarded the human and half-elf patiently, "But we can't allow you to harm Talindra. She's not alive, but she's not undead in a harmful way.  Corym and I restored her to her right mind and we've sworn to see her returned to life once we find the magic for it here among the ruins.  So whatever laudable religious vows you may have undertaken regarding the less-than-living, we're going to need you to make an accommodation."

Euin looked to Kas briefly before turning his attention back to the elves that had indeed saved his life. Yet, did he know them well enough to take a vow? None of the Company he had encountered seemed evil in any way. Nevertheless, not all who walked in the light favored it. Being a Harper, Euin had dealt with such people. So swearing an oath, for one who believed in them, could not be so quickly done. It was Kitheras words that brought a smile to his face... a life's tale can't be told in a moment.

"First, allow me to thank you, Captain, for our rescue and safety. Second, allow me to introduce myself; I am Euin Hawkhand. Thirdly, as to the oath to Talindra... I say maethe*. I shall not speak for Kas, you understand. However, I feel responsible for her, as I am the one who brought her here. However, when I take an oath, I mean to keep it. Master Sunblade, I agree with you entirely. Every oath you take, including the one you wish me to make, should be laudable, or they are a waste of time and breath. Also, a life's tale can not be told in a moment. I think this applies to oaths and vows as well, at least mine do. I need a more time to learn about Talindra before I swear by her... is it, or was it a woman then?"

"Listen, I know it seems hasty, but really it's a simple matter. Talindra was an apprentice here when the city fell.  Her death was so sudden that she can't remember it and thought she was alive when we found her.  She spent the last 700 years weeping in a dark room.  I soothed her ragged emotions, and Corym healed her fractured mind.  Out of gratitude she allows us to stay in this tower secure from all the depredations of the ruins." He extends a hand outward, "All we're asking is that you be good guests and not try to kill the hostess because the nature of her existence is different than we'd all like."

Kitheras concluded, "It's a simple matter, because if you can't agree to abide peaceably--it's a simple thing to show you the door. It's not something we had the time or opportunity to discuss before now, but Corym's right--it has to be discussed."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:39, Tue 18 Aug 2020.

Now that the situation wasn't so urgent and the lighting much better, as the invisibility vanished (ooc: See what I did there) He chucked to himself then allowed his demeanor to return to the disarming, caring, cheerful manner than he liked to be in.

It was clear that this Dwarf was a Warrior or sorts, Dwarven Plate Mail that seems to fit perfectly, Battle Axe & Warhammer at his waist on one side, Light Crossbow at the other.  He deposited the goods that were on his shield, he back remaining straight, standing upright once more, you could imagine him stood at a guard post for weeks at a time without moving, except for the smile and his glistening, almost glowing eyes.  His shield as it became empty, still appeared to hold a few bubble headed crossbow bolts and a few normal ones in straps.

Lifting his shield into it's rightful position before putting against a wall, it was a black oval shield with a motive that shows a small bronze shield between flaming eyes at the top
and bottom.  He sports two arm bands, one of red on left arm, black on the other.

He stands almost as tall as an Elf and as the open faced helmet is removed it is clear that this Dwarf is young, it could have been a trick of the light but his beard is only short and his hair only slightly longer.  Every bit of him shouts out that he is watching, taking everything in and finding joy in it.

Master Hawkhand, be at peace, as I said, The Golden Guardian watches and I protect in his name as long as you mean no harm to those I have sworn to protect already, that includes the lady of this place whilst her demeanor is as it currently is, lost, unsure, friendly.

Since you are reluctant to give your oath, I would, if the Captain agrees, accept your word as a lesser oath.  You are in a place of safety as it stands right now.  A safe haven is a safe haven, no matter who's house it be and in such situations, respect of the owner and their hospitality should be held high.

He had spoken enough, he was sure of it but he felt...yes, he felt these were good people or why would Gorm allow them to be found and rescued by his company, his friends?

Then he thought. Who's hungry or thirsty?  A successful battle and rescue should always be celebrated.  Let us get to know each other better with a Tankard in our hands rather than swords and bows.

In reply to Kitheras Sunblade (msg # 59):

Euin smiled at Kitheras and shrugged "A simple matter... to you who knows Talindra perhaps. I will agree it is hasty, though. Yet, I disagree once again, swearing a vow... or oath should never be so simple. Not if you intend to honor it. As for being a good guest, have I shown myself for being a bad one?"

Euin laid his bow aside and unbuckled his sword belt. Once this was done, he held the scabbarded sword out to Kitheras "Here Master Sunblade, take it. As a sign of my goodwill and that I shall not be a danger to Talindra. Now that I have been given some answers, I feel more at ease. However, if I am to swear a vow to her, I, for one, wish to meet her myself. I think one should swear a vow to the person it is intended."

The half-elf turned to the dwarf, who seemed to be the peacemaker, and bowed "You have my thanks Master Steelfist. I am grateful for all you have done and continue to do."

He then gave Krackor a wink "As for being at peace, I am. If I were not, you would surely know it. As for celebrating, I will raise a cup to you and all the good people here. Yet, I would have this matter solved before we do, if you do not mind? Maethe means perhaps in elvish. I was not denying to make a vow only wishing to know to whom or what I was making it to."

Euin faced Kitheras again "Will you take me to our host? If she requires aid, I will do my best to see she has it."

Qasida had kept her own counsel as the Dreams of the Ancients welcomed their newcomers, using the time to secure her hair and adjust her head covering.



"You have the right of it, Corym Ildroun."  Qasida said, indicating Milil's sacred harp upon her shield.  "Your company's goals and that of my order are aligned in deed as well as purpose."  Here, she gave a short account of how she, Euin and the tuneservants had come to be in Myth Drannor.

Fastening the last of her armor in place, she proffered her thanks to the group, and formally introduced herself to those she had not met.  Just as she had done with Kitheras, she concluded with the formal invitation to forgo titles and instead use just her given name.

Regarding vows — and whether or not she were willing to swear them — courtesy demanded that Qasida politely deflect.  Given that her continued safety was predicated on a satisfactory answer, she was hesitant to explain that any vows she had — or would ever — undertake would be solely between her and her Lord.

"As an Amnian,"  She began, nodding her head with delicate acknowledgment.  "The rules of hospitality are held sacred."

"Honor demands that I will observe them."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:14, Fri 21 Aug 2020.

Kas turned to the dwarf, then.  "I would be most grateful for some water or tea ... and any foodstuffs that you could spare."

"Those twice-cursed hobgoblins thought it fitting to treat their captives very poorly."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:15, Fri 21 Aug 2020.

"The kitchen is still in good shape," Kora puts in from the stairs. "A lot of the furniture... well, let's just say it's now being used to cook the food. But the flagstones are, well, they're hard." She gives you a bright grin. "Myth Drannor, right?"

In reply to Kora Roustinghorn (msg # 64):

His affection for Kora was obvious to the members of the company, to the newcomers it could be seen as either humouring Kora or treating her like a child, neither would be further from the truth, he felt responsible, like an older brother and father combined.

Thank you Kora, don't forget, the frying pan doesn't need firewood to heat, I left it on the stove. If you arrange the food, I'll cook unless you fancied doing it!

He could cook, well, he heated food and threw stuff it that seemed to work, mostly travelling style. Others cooked better but he felt everyone needed help right now.

Krackor went to where he had been sleeping, removed his helmet and stowed his shield against a wall, it appeared more like an alter piece now than a shield, especially with the winter blanket arranged in front of it.

Satisfied with the commitments of the newcomers, Corym calmed significantly and went to sit next to Karilla.  They'd had a moment of sorts in the stable that had felt confusing, but good.  "We'll eat and wash, and then we'll meet Talindra."

Kitheras nodded, but stood as he waited for the preparation of the food.  "That's good, but there are things about which we must talk. My thinking on matters has evolved since we've returned to Myth Drannor."  He looked to Corym in a friendly way, "You once offered to pay my part to join the Company.  We've made no formal division of what we'd acquired, but I'd like to make my investment and formally join."

Corym turned to Qasida and Euin, "Corym devised an ingenious but unorthodox method for dividing treasures acquired by the company so that the disparities that fortune may thrust into our laps don't transform into disparities among us.  I'm sure he'd love the opportunity to explain it, but my spirit was suspicious about a number of things when I first found their company, and I now find myself more at ease among them."

"But the second thing that I want to put to the group to consider is our goal here. Many of our motives were confused when we all found ourselves dumped into this place. Going to the Mage Schools straight away to learn their lost lore to learn why we had come here was the only thing that we all had in common at that time." He looks around and gestures to the tower and the many things in it that had become familiar to them. "Now we have much more in common."

"It is clear that the degree and density of danger is not going to enable us to make a cross-city trek to the Six Tyryl Towers this season, and that in attempting to do so we'll be placing ourselves in undue danger.  I propose that we forego any plan this season that would take us beyond this immediate neighborhood.  Let the pacification and exploration of our home base and its environs be our immediate goal. Once concluded, we should return to Glen, and perhaps Bristar and Highmoon to resupply for further ventures with the knowledge and experience we've gained on this campaign.  What say you all?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Sat 22 Aug 2020.

In reply to Kitheras Sunblade (msg # 67):

Krackor was helping Kora but heard what had been said Kitheras, it is good you join formally or even informally, I like you so I'd like you to stay and be a part of the company.  There, I've said it, you happy now Corym?  I was hoping you'd say it first.

Anyhow, with regards to our goal here.  From what I recall, we were only supposed to be coming here to scout this season, even though we got caught in the snow, I know it's not snowing here but.... So we have established a base, how long will we remain here, I thought we were staying a couple weeks or a month then heading back.  However, I'd rather be here during Winter than out there where it is far colder and miss the summer months.

Even saying that seems strange.  I'm here for a purpose, yes to keep you lot alive and mayhaps to find these two and await Karilla at this exact location.  Maybe there are more to rescue.  I hope that you two  Directing his voice and attention to the newcomers Don't want to head out straight away back to your base in the valleys do you!

"As long as that's our clear understanding." Kitheras confirmed to Krackor.

"I think what we did today with Sirenya cloaking us on the way out, and Corym cloaking us on the way in was a really good way of handling things.  It worked well."

He rolled out the map that Corym had cobbled together from his and Sirenya's reconnaissance.

"We still don't know what's moving in and out of the Dwarven Pill Box (area 13) and it's very close to the hive of Chasme (area 20) which is the danger in the neighborhood which concerns me most.  I don't know how intelligent they are, but if I were a demonic lord, I'd love to have those things as sentries.  If we strike them and don't kill them all, the survivors will escape and inform.  When we go for them, we'll have to have adequate bait to get them on the ground and keep them there."

"I still think we'd be remiss to not continue trying to penetrate the basement here, but the entrance being so forbiddingly closed off it's not something we can really plan on.  I can teach Sirenya Dispel Magic and she can try it once a day while she maintains the watch."

"I see no reason to trouble the Hezrou unnecessarily.  There seems to be little of value along that row of houses."

"Therefore, until we penetrate the basement, or have a plan for the Chasme, or identify the inhabitants of the Dwarven Pill Box, I say that we focus our efforts on the northern end Way of Heroes.  We know that there are trolls, and possibly an Alhoon, but those are relatively straightforward threats.  Meanwhile the Silversmiths guild, and Glass Menagerie are of high interest, and the other buildings there seem largely intact."

"Of course!" Corym beamed.  "I'll calculate your buy-in from the date we offered, rather than the present date since you've accompanied us and assisted for all the subsequent endeavors."

Corym looked, however, at the pile of loot he'd acquired from the Hobgoblin lair.  "Karilla, would you help me appraise what we've acquired?"

06:30, Today: Corym Ildroun rolled 255 using 20d20 with rolls of 8,9,20,16,16,1,13,11,20,16,7,5,18,13,18,18,7,8,14,17.  Appraisal. Failing Rolls struck through.

Karilla stared at the pile of stuff then over at Corym.

"It's old. Probably worth something to the right someone. Other than that, no. And I haven't identified anything in over one-hundred and fifty years. I can do this though."

Karilla focused her energy on one of the thin elven swords. She smirked as it raised itself up and began to do a little dance around the room. She focused back on Corym and gestured to the dancing blade.

"Fun, but not very useful in this instance."

Corym

Putting a value on the coins and swords you brought back from the hobgoblins is rather difficult. All three thinblades are in good condition. Their edges are a bit battered, but the steel has been treated with something like, but different from, modern bluesteel. Curious, you clean the dirt and grime of centuries from one of them. With a bit of work it gleams like new, and when you sharpen it, the blade holds the edge. Impressive craftsmanship, considering they're all at least three thousand years old and more likely four or five thousand.

Two of the thinblades are plain and unadorned. Beautiful, because very little that the People made during the Founding Time is ugly, but practical. Their modern equivalent are the simple war blades that hang on the hip of every caravan guard from here to Waterdeep.

But the third is an exceedingly fine blade. Its wooden handle has delicate, gold filigree twining through it, the thin lines almost but not quite forming letters. More tracery is etched down the length of the blade, tiny sapphires are embedded in the handle, and along the blade's spine it is engraved with, "Clear eye and steady hand guard the realm for all time."

Kitheras takes a look at it and recognizes it as a presence sword a younger noble scion would have worn to court. It's not magical, and it wouldn't be considered a house heirloom. But it's a beautiful piece.

Value-wise, the two plain thinblades are worth maybe four or five hundred gold pieces to a collector. The courtly blade is worth a lot more, likely at least three thousand gold. If you could find the right buyer, it's possible it could go for even more.

There are a total of eight Myth Drannan coins: three "crossed axe" silvers, four "pile of scrolls" golds, and one "elf head" platinum. You have no idea what their value might be today. Myth Drannor was known for the purity of its coins, so they're at least worth the same as their modern equivalents. They might also be worth a great deal, but pricing something like this is totally out of your realm of experience.