The general mirth of the moment was suddenly interupted.

  A fountain of water gysered up from behind Calis from where he stood.  The ministrel spun around in suprise as a roar reverberated off the river's banks.  A great olive green hand cut the air above his head with sharp, black talons.

   Calis looked up at the wiry green giant that towered above him.  It had stringy black hair, eyes that glittered with without feeling, and a gaping maw filled with sharp, pointed teeth, he looked upon the frightful visage of a Scrag!

   Above Calis on the bank stood Father Rys and Chrissa, with Colm and Sir Pedivere rushing up from the background.

OODM  I will put a map together for you and place it at the yahoo group site, second, I cannot believe I rolled a 1 on the scrag's attack!

Pedivere looks on with a gentle smile on his face as his friend cavorts in the water.  In an instant, the smile drops and is replaced with fear for his companion.

Initiative = 18

Calis gasped and stared up at the green scrag before muttering an oath under his breath.

Ini: 17 + 5 = 22.

Roll: 19 + 0 = 19

Lays a glowing hand on Sir Pedivere.

May the Lord God strengthen your arm Sir Knight

Sir Pedivere feels stronger.

Rys draws his mace

OODM

Initiatives:  Calis
              Rys
              Sir Pedivere
              Colm
              Scrag
              Chrissa


     I have an action for Father Rys, but Calis is first to act, I'm assuming that Rys will bestow his blessing upon Sir Pedivere by advancing upon him by either delaying his action until Pedivere moves forward or rushing to him and meeting him halfway?  Let me know! :)

Seeing the green beastie Calis swallowed his fear, smirked at the near miss, and then dived into the water while swimming towards shore to escape the troll and to return to the riverbank since his supplies and other items were left there.


Player OOC: How deep is the river?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:42, Wed 15 Sept 2004.

OOC  Calis is in about 1.2 metres of water, not too deep, he can still touch the bottom and have his head and shoulders above quite easily. :)

just an ooc - can the combat maps be a little less colour intensive and maybe easier to read.  Having a map grid would also help for tactical movement.

If you want a decent grid based map system, look to www.dungeoncrafter.com which is free to download.  It's not bad at all.

cheers

Fr. Rys walks up to Sir Pedivere

May the Lord God strengthen your arm Sir Knight

ooc, I assume that Father Rys is casting a Bulls Strength?  I need to know so that when I use DR, I can take any mods into consideration.  I need to also know, from Swimdoll, whether the bank of the river gently rolls into the water or whether there is a drop.  Also, am I mounted or not?  I would assume so, but don't like assumptions... (they are the mother of all F'ups after all).

Also, as the map is difficult to read.  How far away from a) The River, b) Calis, c) The Scrag am I?

And Scrags are dragons right Swimdoll?  :D :D

I think that's all I need to know.

OOC: You assume correctly

OODM The River is about 10 metres from where Colm and Sir Pedivere are standing, Calis is about 13 metres away, and the Scrag (Troll) is about 14 metres away. :)

Is there a drop off from the bank, or does it just taper gently into the water?  And am I mounted?

ie, does the bank look like this

----|               ----~~~~~~
    |~~~~~~~   or 

The answers to these questions will influence what I do.

cheers

Calis pops under the water to avoid another swat or bite from above him and scrambles for the bank, pulling himself up onto the rocks and dirt of the river bank.  Rys, retreats from the bank, in search of the help of the knight and his mighty blade.  Calling upon the angels of God to strengthen the knight, he meets the knight as he charges forward in response to the Scrag's roar, the priest able to tap the knight's arm as he brushes past.  Resolutely the priest finds his own weapon determined to join the knight in the defense.
    Colm, an expert with his weapon finds an arrow, and with a shout, launches, one, then another grey goose shafts at the monstrostiy now threatening all of them.  The first one nicks the troll before splintering off it's muscled shoulder and into the river, the second sails past the scrag and splits the water with a 'plop'.
     The Scrag with a roar, pursues his meal, namely Calis, splashing up out of the water in pursuit.
      "Demoror!" Chrissa shouted in latin, holding her hands up protectively.   The hermit's call for help from above was answered, the Scrag's limbs seized and stopped in mid-stride, dripping water, it stood frozen in one spot, statue like.  The little nick in it's shoulder oozing green blood....


OODM  I rolled for Chrissa and Colm, Sir Pedivere can attack next round, Rys can rush up next round, any questions, pvt message me! :)

hang on... I missed my turn!
I should have been able to attack it this turn.  Hence, I was asking questions to find out what Pedivere should clearly be able to see.

Is he mounted, and how runs the bank of the river?
This message was last edited by the player at 01:32, Fri 17 Sept 2004.

Pedivere at least moved to the edge of the river, drew his blade and unslung his shield.

   Init: 18

    MEA: Move 20' to the river bank
          -and- draw sword
Partial: Unsling and ready Shield.

     FX: Bulls Strength (+4 Str) 1/?

Hearing the green skinned thing stop moving behind him, Calis turned, and moved towards his clothing and gear. As he quickly dressed, he snatched up his spear and shuffled it from one hand to the other while keeping an eye on the troll.

ooc - dude that's like more than a full rounds actions... moving to your gear (MEA).  Picking up your discarded weapon (MEA). Getting dressed (Priceless - but not happenin - you'll be fightin' in tha buff (pray the Troll don't like franks'n'beans!)  ;-)

So next up is Rys and then Pedivere.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:46, Sat 18 Sept 2004.

OOC: Then Swim has my actions for a few rnds less something changes. :)

  Calis scampers up the river's bank in search of his belongings.  He sees them in a rough circle where he stripped before jumping into the water.  Working purely on instinct, he finds his breaches and pulls them on first, jumping around to get them up, the water on his legs making them a struggle to don.

  "Deus Volt!" the padre shouted, lifting his mace and charging after the knight and into battle against the green skinned monster that had so brazenly accosted the minstrel.  Despite the frozen state of the troll, the priest's blow manages to find a heavy bone and bounces off with a soft thud, barely injuring it.


Sir Pedivere steps into the fray against the creature.  Shield held before him, the glittering blade flashes in the fading light of the day.  The heavy blade cut into the troll's shoulder, thick green blood splattering outward.

   Colm remained hidden in the shadows of the trees above the melee, his hunting leathers making him difficult to see.  His bow sang a song of death as the silvery darts flew forth.  They found the monster's chest as easily as Colm would find the chest of a straw dummy on a practice field.  Each arrow landed with a sickening 'thud', sinking deap and painfully into the troll's chest, it's toothy maw open in a silent snarl of hunger and anger.

   Chrissa scampered about, helping the minstel find his essential belongings and escape danger...
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:00, Tue 21 Sept 2004.

OOC - so I take it we're back at the top of the initiative order.
Calis, Rys, Pedivere, Colm, Scrag, Chrissa...

So Calis is up.

After everyone's post (DM's inclusive), it'd be good if the next person was prodded.

Seeing that his legs were covered at least, Calis reached down and grabbed his weapon from where he left it before he decided to go for swim and get a bath that didn't turn out that well.

Rys continues to attack the Scrag.

Pedivere follows up the previous hit with another assault against the beast.

   Init: 18

     AC: 22
    fac: 21
    tac: 11

   Full: Attack v Scrag
          -hit- AC 17 (forgot bull's strength again)
          -dam- 7

     FX: Bulls Strength (+4 Str) [3/?]
         DR 2/- [constant]

  The troll's face continues to be frozen in a roar as the band of defenders continues their assault, fighting madly while the blessing held the thing in check.
   With a mighty war cry, the knight Sir Pedivere swung a mighty blow, cutting deeply, another cut appearing and spouting out green blood.  The troll was hearty and it's flesh and bone thick and tough.

   The priest added his own blow to the knight's the great club landing with a thud on the troll's chest, he could not tell if the thing was hurt or not but he had swung with all of his might to connect.

   Calis, having recovered his spear, jammed the sharp end of the weapon upward, finding his mark in the guts of the thing, still the monster uttered no cry of pain, no roar of anger.

    Colm's bow sang out again, the wicked twang brought death with it, a single arrow piercing the Scrag's skull from the embankment above.  It was a lucky shot, and amazing shot, but it connected with all the force of thunderbolt.  Leaving the black shining eyes of the troll, dull and lifelifeless, only the blessing of the hermit kept it on it's feet.

     Moments passed as the thing continued to pour out it's blood onto the banks, then without much more than a thump as its weight struck the ground, the troll fell, quite dead.

    The party stood staring at the corpse for several moments, expecting it to leap up and attack, but it continue to lay there, motionless...

"Well that was, um, exciting, aye? Is it really dead..." Calis asked as he stood there half dressed and watched the blood drip lightly down the tip of his spear.

I'm not sure if exciting is the right word for it. However, I'm surprised that it fell so easily. My studies would indicate that these things are a bit tougher.

Looks at troll more closely to see if it truly is dead.

Chrissa regards the fallen creature, thankful for their deliverance, yet grieved by the necessity of killing.

"'All goe to one place, and all was of the dust, and all shall returne to the dust.'"

She shakes her head, and remains on her guard.

"I have seen similar creatures before, which were able to recover from wounds *very* quickly.  Does anyone here have oil?  We may need to actually burn the body to ensure that it doesn't attack anyone else again..."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Mon 27 Sept 2004.

"Oh aye? I thought it was exciting. But then maybe that was because it was me that it was chasing," Calis replied with a laugh.

Pedivere thrusts his blade into the water, then returns to his gear.  Drawing a small cloth, he wipes the blade clean before re-sheathing it in the leather scabbard.

"Are you alright Calis?  Did the beast injure you?"

"Nay my friend, it didn't and I am fine. It was close though. Teach me to jump into rivers to get clean, aye?" Calis answered his friend as he cleaned off the end of his bloody spear.

Turning to the female member of thier group he nodded at her again, "If I insulted you with my actions, I beg your forgiveness. It was not my intent, I am just used to more openness. Also I don't have any oil."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:15, Wed 29 Sept 2004.

Should we press on? That troll came from somewhere, and its lair may be nearby. I would not want to face another.

The party stands about expectantly watching the troll's body as it slowly bleeds on the ground, no longer twitching just quite still.  The scene is an odd one with the tranquility of nature beginning to take over again, the summer breeze rustling the leaves in the trees birds still chirping and fluttering from tree to tree, the river's surface slightly rippled as it slowly snakes its way through the hills.

  OODM:  Guys I still haven't heard back from Trout about coming back to play Colm, I am giving serious thought to seeking out someone to take over his character.

Chrissa smiles at Calis.

"No offense was taken, young man.  A healer is only too happy to see a body whole and healthy.  Thankfully the Lord has preserved us..."

"Yet I am still concerned about yonder beast.  Do any of the rest of you have any oil?"

Colm emerges from the shadows at the top of the riverbank to inspect his work.  Wordless he walks down to the party and then nods seeing how is arrows found their marks.
   "I have some here sister," he says in reply to the hermit's request for oil.  Dipping into a pouch at his waist, he provides a clay vessel, stoppered with cork.  He gives it over before taking a glance around the banks of the river.  "I'll have a look around and see if there are anymore," he nods and moves off carefully examining the riverbanks for signs of footprints and the foliage for signs of breakage or marking.

   The party dribbled oil over the outside of the troll's body and put a torch to it.  There were hissing and poping sounds as the monster began to burn, the party was forced to retreat from the horrible stench, covering their noses as they did so.  Atop the riverbank they watched for several minutes as the flames continue to lick and burn at the corpse, even downwind there continued to be a hint of the smell.

     Colm retuned many moments later, his breeches from mid-thigh down wet from wading along the river bank.  "I think I found it's lair,"he began to say in his thick accent.  "Over yonder in those reeds, there's a hole partly under water.  I didn' see any other tracks other than this one's"he pointed down the bank at the ever blackening troll.

Interesting. Perhaps we should investigate? While I do not care for the idea of meeting one of these beasts again in battle, would it not be best to search out and rid another such one so as to make it safer for other travellers?

"Aye Father, you speak true. And after getting attacked by such a strange beast it might be wise to see what lies within it's den."

So, shall we all go and investigate this lair that the good Colm has discovered?

"It's here,"Colm says motioning after himself as he turns and points in the direction of the half-submerged cave he found.  The yeoman strode along the bank, patiently allowing for the others to keep up before coming near to where he made his discovery.  "Down there."

    Along the bank there appeared to be a dark, half-covered cave in amongst some rushes.  The water of the river was slow here, half-protected by a outcropping of rocks, forming a calm pool of water that barely showed any sign of the river's current.

Well, who wants to go down?

OOC - sorry for not posting, had 2 V:TES tournaments on the weekend, and ended up with a bad flu.  Crook as a dog yesterday, only marginally better today.

"I shall head there.  Colm, was there any sign of others?" states the young knight.

"I'm still interested in checking it out, as I kind of said a moment ago."

Pedivere draws his blade back from the scabbard and readies his shield again.  "Then let us proceed.  Yeoman, take us yonder to the lair of the beast."

"Aye Sir Pedivere," the Irish nods and winks, putting his bow aside to draw forth his blade.

   The yeoman's steps were virtually silent as he stepped down the bank and waded into the water with the skill of an otter, barely a ripple broke the water's surface where he started in.

    The knight, bard, and priest were a different story.  Lacking the woodsman's lifetime of living off the land, their possessions, armour, and footfalls rattled, clanked, murmured as they reached the water's edge.

   Colm led the way as the others attempted as best they could, to be as quiet as possible.

   "'Tis Dark inside," the yeoman murmured quietly, standing off to the side of the entrance.

   Although the sun had not set, the trees and riverbank left the area in shadow...

Pulls out a torch

Shall we enter?

"Indeed Father.  For though dispatching these beasts is not our mission, we cannot in good conscience leave any of their ilk alive.  They are an abomination of the great evil, and as such we must put right the balance."

The knight however waited whilst Father Rys lit his torch.  "I shall go first.  May we find nought but the cold bones of the earth."

Gripping his long spear, Calis nodded and looked around. "Aye, lets continue. I'll take the middle or the rear."

Fr. Rys takes the leather wrap on his torch off and the torch seems to instantly light.

Lead on Sir Knight, and I will follow

Pedivere nods and then enters the Scrag's lair, his blade held out before him and his shield up defensively.  Though he does not fear whatever may lurk inside he does not rush, instead taking his time.

As they walk into the troll's cave, Fr. Rys readies his morningstar in case there's another creature here.

Chrissa lingers near the burning corpse a few moments longer, satisfying herself that the creature is burned beyond recovery.

She then follows the others to the cave, and produces a torch of her own that immediately brings forth light.  She uses her off hand to carry the torch high, with the other calmly gripping her quarterstaff.

Her voice carries softly but firmly into the cave...

"'The Lord is my light and my saluation, whom shall I feare?'"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:15, Thu 07 Oct 2004.

As softly
The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

   Sir Pedivere begins to wade into the troll's cave, the weight of his armour making difficult but years of wearing it at all times of the day helps him adjust as he enters in.  The river's water is cool but not uncomfortable.  The smell of damp earth and rot hangs in the hair, its smell is cloying and tickles the noses of the company.

    The torches of the hermit and priest quickly filled the space with light, only the long shadow of the knight in front obscures any view of the dug-out.  The walls are thick, earthen and damp, bits of root jut out here and there from the tree-lined bank above.  The bottom of the cave is uneven with debris, the water allows for some sight of what the litter is and it is quickly revealed many bones litter the water cave's floor.  Atop a small ledge, of rock are the several fishbones, the bones of other land animals of various sorts, and a few glittering objects.

    There is no sign of any other scrags or life for that matter.

Fr. Rys walks forward to see what the 'glittering objects' are, taking care not to touch anything for the moment.

Calis followed behind the Father, while keeping his spear ready in case it was needed. He continued to look around and his stance looked like it was ready to defend if something surprised them.

  The padre pushed his way past the knight to hold his torch up high over the ledge.  The light shone done on the bones and the metalic objects.  There was a buckle (presumeably the troll ate the belt or harness to which it was attached), a bell, a few coins, a rusty dagger, and the bit from a bridle.  There wasn't much of any sort of meat left on the bones just many tooth and claw marks from a determined eater....

Save for some coins up here, there appears to be nothing of value around.

Looks closer at the coins to see what they are

Father Rys leans over the ledge to examine the coins more closely.  They glitter beneath the grime of resting in the mud and earth shelf of the troll's lair.  Stamped upon their faces are various profiles of past rulers of Briton, the most frequent is Arthur's father Uther.  That would certainly soon change as currency bearing the new king's image began to be minted and circulated throughout the kindgom...

Holsters weapon and picks up the coins

I realize it may sound crass, but we could probably use these on our quest for God and King

The top of the good father's weapon drops into the nearly hip deep water with a splash as he hooks it on his belt.  Carefully, he picks his way through the bones and asundry to find the coins.  Finishing, he holds a handful of dirty coins, 4 pieces of copper and 8 pieces of silver.

Leaving the earthen ledge explored the band of adventurers turned away from it, satisfied that the tiny cave's only occupant was the single Scrag.  The evidence of its predation left them with a feeling of satisfaction that the troll would no longer be attacking anyone else.

   Wading back into the light of day, they found the dry bank again and returned to the campsite.  The ring of stones that Colm had created for a fire was quickly alight, helping, along with the warmth of the early summer evening to begin to dry their belongings.  Sir Pedivere in his suit of platemail was compelled to remove much of it to dry and oil it to prevent its rusting.

OODM:  I'll allow a little interaction and post again tomorrow evening and get the group underway.  Chrissa is in the know of the location of Jerimiah.

During the night, Pedivere, now stripped of his armour and wearing light travelling clothes seems deep in thought.  His blade rests in his lap, sheathed tightly in the intricate leather scabbard.

"Calis good friend.  We have ridden and fought hard on this day.  Perhaps a song or a tale would lighten our mood and cheer our weary bones?"

Thinking about his friends words, Calis set his spear down near the place he was going to sleep. Pulling out his flute, the human tuned it a little by blowing into it before sending a few notes into the air. After a minute or two of playing, Calis's voice filled the camp around them with a song about Britian's past before the Roman's came and how the ancestors used to worship the Old Ones.


OOC: Sorry, don't know many old songs. :)

OOC: In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida or Stairway to Heaven will be fine!  :D

The melody of the minstrel's tune is soothing and calms the party's nerves after the excitement with the river scrag.  The fire burns low as the sun disapears late in the evening.  There is ample wood to keep the fire going all night, but its light is unneeded, the band's sleep is undisturbed and restful.
   The dawn comes early, and after simple meals, provided by blessings invoked by Chrissa, the party is underway.
    The road that runs along the river is lined with trees, however on the other side of those tress, is open fields.  The grains grown upon them are quickly ripening in the mid-summer warmth.  There is the occasional hamlet, or manor house, along with the usual huts of serf farmers.  As they ride, the mountains in the distance grow closer and closer.  To the south, a circle of stones, ancient centres of worship for the old religion continues to stand.  Calis makes a brief comment about them as they ride.
    To the south-west the ruins of some castle can be seen, sitting atop a hill, commanding the countryside even now with its forboding presense.  To the West and a little north, is another circle of stones, and that is where Chrissa directs them.  Explaining their destination is beyond the top of that hill, in the wilderness and caves nearby.  Following a stream that feeds into the Severn, meadows are passed through and the occasional serfs bids them hello as they pass.
     About noon, the party comes across a very strange sight indeed.  A little grey donkey stands beside of the road, saddled and ladden with bags and packs, its reins dipping into the dust as they hang from it's bridle.  Then a voice could be heard, walking out from behind a tree came a rustic looking man, clad in leathers and wearing a brightly collared, odd looking cap.  Clutched in his hand was a stick, with a puppet head atop it.  The head was wearing a cap very similar to the man's and the two appeared to be having an arguement!

     "Listen you, I know which way we were supposed to go.  You said 'NoooOooO... it's the other way.'  And you were bleedin wrong.  Now you me and Gilbert are lost... We wont every find Mother Jilbert's secret urn of blessed crumpets now will we..."

     The medium sized man comes up short as he happens to spot the approaching party.  He smiles and a twinkle in his eye appears as his hand holding the puppet stick quickly hides the stick behind his back, the jingles of bells on the stick betraying his subterfuge.  He flourishes a bow and sweeps the brightly coloured hat from his head....

     "Good day and well met!" He trumpets. "By all that is holy you are a sight for sore eyes!  I haven't had the privilage of seeing or talking to nary a soul for a fortnight!  What brings you to this wild?  I am in search of treasure beyond earthly vice..."

Fr. Rys looks very amused at this new person's antics.

In the name of the God I greet you my good sir.

Flashing a quick grin, Calis nodded at the stranger. "Merry met, Calis is my name."

Pedivere spurs his mighty metal clad beast forward, the massive hooves biting into the ground.  Lifting his hand in salutation, the young knight lifts the visor of his helm, revaling the youthful face beneath.

"Good day and well met, I am Pedivere, Knight of the Realm and these are my companions.  Though I hesitate to inform you of more, for these are stressful times and evil abounds.  Tell me, who might you be that you waylay us so?"  The knights eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Colm, are we alone with this knave, or are there others that mine eyes can not detect?"

   The man in front of you bursts out in laughter.  It lasts for a few moments, well actually more like a minute.  He almost stops and then it bubbles back out almost uncontrollable.  He is half bent over tears streaming from his eyes, trying to catch his breath...

     "Oh sir knight you take me back.  Have I waylayed you?  I am simply taking a small break from my journey.  I went behind the tree to return to nature that which I drank the night before.  I must trust that you do not mean by waylay that I have attacked or intercepted you?" He giggles a bit at that. "And I know that by knave you must be refering to my status and not the more common meaning of the word you chose, for I cannot believe that a Knight rides around insulting strangers on the road.
     But all that is meaningless, let me introduce myself.  He flourishes another bow and in a sort of singsong says;

I am Aeron of Wales
I purvey mirthful tales
So if your in need
Of a humorous lead
Look no furthur as I wont fails

He seems to grimace a little at the last ryhme that doesn't match perfectly, but shrugs and smiles, a small giggle escaping at the end....

Fr. Rys stifles a chuckle at this gentleman's actions

     "But ah sir knight I do not see any reason for you to be suspicious of me.  After all I am on my own travel and you on yours.  I am sure yours is much more grand and illustrious." as he says this he pantomines brushing his hair back and shaking out his locks which makes the bells on his hat jingle making the scene pretty ridiculous.

     "I am sure you have dragons to slay or holy damsels to recover or stolin artifacts to rescue.  Me I am just an errand boy.  Me getting lost didn't help. he jerks his 'stick' back in front of his face looking straight into the small glass eyes of the sticks face he screams, NO!  That doesn't mean I admit I got us lost!  So shut your trap!  He looks up at you sheepishly again, "Don't mind me, I must be on my way or Jerimiah wont give payment as promised as I may be late.  You see my friend here gave me some bad directions. With that he taps the head of the stick against his thigh the bells twinkling in the fine clear air. A twitch by his left eye reveals slight annoyance. "So I must be on my way to the apothecary, and you must go off and deflower a dragon or something else knightly I am sure.  Fare thee well..."

     With that he jumps to the saddle of his donkey, well actually he attempts to jump to the saddle of his Donkey but somehow clears the donkey, landing nimbly between the warhorse and donkey.  He flourishes another bow and begins to lead his donkey off in a generally North-West direction...

OOC: Man give a fool time to talk and he will!
This message was last edited by the player at 03:49, Thu 14 Oct 2004.

Jeremiah? How serendipitous. However, since your guide misled you, do you know how to find Jeremiah?
This message was last edited by the player at 02:02, Sat 16 Oct 2004.

"Good day and fare well to you too."

Pedievere waits a moment for the strange fellow to move off before turning to Chrissa.

"Doubtless, he journeys to meet the same Jeremiah as we do.  However, that being said, I see no reason for our paths to cross more than they have so far.  If you could lead us onwards dear Chrissa, we may yet manage to acheive our task before it is too late."

Sir Knight, if he seeks Jeremiah the Apothecary, why not travel with him?

Chrisa, is that the direction we need to go?

Chrissa acknowledges the padre's question with a nod, looking off in the direction of the stone circle and hills and caves beyond. "Indeed it is Father.  I sensed no ill-intent in the man Sir Pedivere, but I will bow to your thoughts in this manner as you have been charged with keeping us safe."
   Chrissa turns her horse Sean north-west.   Approximating the track of the fool who just left them...

Calis looked at his friend, and then at the back of the stranger, before following after Pedivere and the others.

Pedivere smiles slightly.  "Perhaps there is no ill intent in this man, yet I worry that agents working against us may seek to thwart our endeavor.  As such I cannot trust anyone who we find on the road, especially those that claim to seek the same man we do.  Perhaps, this 'fool' does not know where Jeremiah lives, but indeed would have us lead him to the apothecary merely to slay him."

Pedivere shifts in his saddle to look upon those that follow him.  "And yet, something still gnaws at me.  What kind of errand boy was he?  Not the kind one would normally hire.  Perhaps we should speed our way towards Jeremiah with due haste."

  The party followed after the fool, atop his grey donkey. Roughly fashion they traced his path, keeping him in sight for sometime. He disapeared over the top druid's holy site of Caebetin Hill and was not seen after that.

   A brook lead up to the Hill to which the group aimed and its source, a spring beneath the hill, became apparent as the party grew closer.  Reaching its top, the padre, Rys remained for many minutes, examining the stones and writing notes on a sheet of parchment; carefully using his backpack as a writing tablet.  After he finished his scribbling, the party made its way down the hill's opposite side and plunged into the thick woods.
   Colm easily picked up the one called Aeron's trail.  The donkey's hoof prints were quite discernable.  If the rascal was setting the group for an ambush, he was going about it rather clumsily Chrissa commented with a gentle smile.
   The party descended into a shallow valley before rising up onto a game trail that ran along the circumference of a higher hill.  It went on for sometime before descending into another valley and up another hill.
   The group's noses detected a smell on the breeze.  The smell of food.  It smelled delicious and reminded the group they not yet eaten their mid-day meal.
   A moment later a clearing came into view.  There was a fire with a steaming pot atop it and, peering out into the trees was the fool Aeron; and a grey bearded man wearing a brown woolen gramalla and a yellow pileus cornutus...

Chrissa's face brightens as she sees her old mentor.  Upon seeing recognition in his eyes, she moves gently to embrace him.

"Jeremiah...  Shalom, my old mentor... and my friend..."

The smiling man with the jingly hat on his head sees the group and waves his hand merrily.  He looks to the wizened apothecary and sing-songs to him;

My, my Jeremiah, you know this group?
These are the ones I was telling you of...
The ones with the poderous upity up
Who acted like I was a criminal schmuck.
Oh what glee to see them so stern.
I worry for the big one though,
you know the one without a smile
He'll have a heart attack within a mile,
hopefully someday he will learn
that life is no fun for one so stern.
As Gawain learned when he dubbed Sir Fool"

Fr. Rys smiles again again that the fool's japes.

Greeting Jeremiah. In the name of God I greet you.

Nodding at Jeremiah, Calis watched the others before replying, "Well met, I am Calis friend of Sir Pedivere." He nodded at his friend as he said that.

Chrissa's face brightens as she sees her old mentor.  Upon seeing recognition in his eyes, she moves gently to embrace him.

"Jeremiah...  Shalom, my old mentor... and my friend..."

  "Chrissa-Chrissa my child!  Shalom!  It is good to see you!" the old man hobbled at a good pace around the fire to embrace his student.  He chuckled receiving her warmly.  "Come, come share my cooking fire, bring your friends," he beamed, releasing her holding her arms for a moment longer before motioning them along.  He chuckled at the antics of the fool Aeron.


The smiling man with the jingly hat on his head sees the group and waves his hand merrily.  He looks to the wizened apothecary and sing-songs to him;

My, my Jeremiah, you know this group?
These are the ones I was telling you of...
The ones with the poderous upity up
Who acted like I was a criminal schmuck.
Oh what glee to see them so stern.
I worry for the big one though,
you know the one without a smile
He'll have a heart attack within a mile,
hopefully someday he will learn
that life is no fun for one so stern.
As Gawain learned when he dubbed Sir Fool"



Fr. Rys smiles again again that the fool's japes.

Greeting Jeremiah. In the name of God I greet you.

  "And I you Father," the apothecary bowed, a little more seriously.  "Please, join us.  Master Aeron and I were making stew."

Nodding at Jeremiah, Calis watched the others before replying, "Well met, I am Calis friend of Sir Pedivere." He nodded at his friend as he said that.

  "Good day to you," he replied to Calis, and "-And you Sirknight.  Please, join us for some vegetable stew." he motioned with a gesture of his arm before turning back to Chrissa.  "So tell me dear child, why have you come so far and with so many to see me?"

After climbing down from his horse and stretching, Calis smiled as he inhaled the smell of the stew. When he was done loosing his muscles, he joined the others and took a bowl of stew while listening and keeping his thoughts to himself while eating.

Chrissa takes Jeremiah's hand warmly in her own.

"These companions bring word of one in dire need of your skills -- a good friend and ally of King Arthur... and a victim of an unknown poison.  They inform me that he dwells over the sea, and that his survival depends on your skill and experience.  But they knew not where to seek you, save through me, so they sought my aid."

"Sir Pedivere carries the very chalice that contained the poison, and may know more of the specifics concerning this mission of mercy..."

Pedivere pauses mid-meal to nod in agreement with the words of Chrissa.  Taking a mouthfull of drink, he washes down the stew and then wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

"Indeed, as the good Chrissa speaks I quest for our King, the noble Arthur who resides in Camelot.  These others accompany me for numerous reasons."  The young knight turns to the fool, a curious look upon his face.

"I trust that as this man is in your company, that you would vouch for his veracity?"

Pedivere takes another drink and waits for Jeremiah to respond.

The man with the jingly bells starts coughing horrendously.  His eyes filling with tears and just a trickle of vegetable stew coming from his nose.  He trys to control it but obviously got some soup or spice where it did not belong.  Cough-Cough-wheeze.....Cough.  He seems to gain some composure and wipes his eyes with the corner of his sleeve.  A smallish chuckle coming up as he speaks, "Aye Jeremiah, did I not bring you the glassware as I promised?  Safe and sound, not a scratch on them, well excepting the one I dropped when unloading, but you have to expect some loss.  All the way from so and so and here almost on time.  I must say that I fulfilled my part of our pact."
The fool smiles and has a low chortle escape as he takes a nother spoonful of the vegetable stew....

The foolish one finishes his bowl of stew and taking the somber mood of all around as a cue to become more somber himself, unlimbers his long wooden flute from his pack.  He lifts the flute to his lips and begins to play a haunting dirge, with just enough volumn to be heard but not enough to be intrusive.  The sound of his flute having a seemingly raspy sound to it must be intentional....

Gladly will I share your fire and your stew.

Fr. Rys dismounts and tethers his horse

I must say Jeremiah, this is a nice section of the forest.

   "Ahhh, I see," the hermit smiled at his former student and turned to regard the knight.  "May I see the cup Sirknight?"

   "Ho-ho;" Jeremiah chuckled at the question.  "Aeron?  Aeron does errands for me and blesses me with his mirth.  I have every reason to doubt his senses but not his heart." Jeremiah smiled, jabbing a spoon in the direction of the fool playfully.

  "I thank thee for your kind words good Father, but it is the good Lord that provided it and I am thankful every day for it."  he beamed at the priest, providing a simple wooden bowl and spoon of the warm, aromatic dish.

True, God has provided. But you chose a particularly beautiful section of the woods.

Fr. Rys accepts the bowl and spoon.

Tell me Jeremiah, how do you prefer to do the meal's blessing? I know some wish a private message to the Almighty, and others prefer a verbal one.

"Oh good father, the meal was blessed before I even began to cook it.  It is my secret ingredient in all my concoctions, the good Lord's blessing," he smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Signs the Cross over the gathering

Then may we be nourished by this meal that God has blessed.

edit: spelling errror
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Fri 22 Oct 2004.

OCC:  Hi all, I'll be doing my best to pick up with Colm and fit into the group OK.  My apologies in advance for any character or plot points I miss.   I'm sure that the lovely Ms. Swim Doll will correct me if I overstep.

BIC:  Colm sits down in a chair to eat, grinning ear to ear and rubbing his hands together.  "Aye, s'been a lon' road tha's for sure.  I'll be damm glad for a bit'o grub.  Thank'ye Father for gettin' this show onna road, eh?  Lord Bless ye."  He smiles broadly at the good Father.  He goes to take a bit of the food he's been offered, but pauses; his eyes twinkle.  He looks at Jerimiah "So, Ah' mean no offence, frien' but I muss ask, ye, cause it vexes me as a puzzle in my mind.  What does a hermit do with his day, anyway?"  He looks at the hermit.  His smile is both playful and inquisitive.  He waits to take his meal until the Hermit answers.

As if on cue, Aeron drops his flute and does a handstand in response, he reverse bows to Jeremiah as if to aknowlege a great compliment. (A reverse bow being bowing from the wasit whilst upside down.)

The fool Aeron, jumps back to his feet and scurries over close to Jeremiah, "So my friend can you help them on their quest?  Some evil doer hath poisoned someone, if they had me as a food taster I could have told them what they were up against.  None but the finest fools have a tongue for poison like myself.  Why I can tell the difference between hemlock and arsnic with but a taste.  There is no poison I cannot identify.  Hmm, do you think if you help this man he will be in need for a food taster?  As you know I am always looking for patrons...."

Fr. Rys looks at the fool appraisingly. While food testers are employed, rarely have I heard of one also being a jester. What led you to do both?

Likely as not is fer double the pay, eh?  Piped in Colm.

Aeron pips up at this, "Why good father it was pure chance.  I was deciding to appropiate a small portion of my old lord's kidney pie that I experienced a burning tingling sensation all down my gut.  I did many a night of research and discovered that it was poison.  I found myself fascinated with it and wonder why I didn't of course die.  So I tried every poison I could, none of them killed me and I got a taste for em.  As for why become a food taster, well have you ever had the fare of the head of a castle?  It is much better than the fare of a Jester.  So it was completely self-centered"

   "Well good Yeoman, your question is a fair one," Jeremiah begins, sipping from a cup of aromatic tea.  "I thank the good lord for the blessings provided.  I walk in the woods, collecting the ingredients for my wares.  I teach those who come looking to know more about the history of herbs and medicines.  My days are full young sir." he nods with respect to the question posed.

   "Well, my friend," Jeremiahs begins philosophically.  "I think the king of that land across the sea will need to answer that.  But I will have to examine the goblet after we finish our repast to see if I am able to help.  I pray that I am."  He nods to the fool.

OOC - apologies for the delay in posting, but I was laid out for the past 4 days with a viral infection in my lungs (still got it, but not as bad).

Pedivere finishes his stew and nods to the hermit.  The matter is most urgent and secrecy has been demanded.  For those that poisoned the King's ally are likely to attempt our failure.  The Chalice bears only a small portion of the poison", he continues, whilst fetching the cloth wrapped bundle from his pack.

Carefully, the young knight removes the cloth revealling a golden chalice, slightly smudged on the inside with a greasey residue.  "Here", the knight indicates the smudge, "is what remains of the vile assassin's attempt at murder."

The knight softly wraps the chalice back in the cloth and hands it to the hermit.  "No other apothecary has yet been able to identify the substance, and as such no antedote has thus been made.  I do not know the condition of the King's ally, only that all speed must be made."

Colm raises his eyebrow and shrugs his shoulders slightly.  It was, after all, a very honorable answer.  Fair enuff' good sir.  Thankin' the good lerd' for our blessins is certainly a life long occupation.    he said sincerely.

Colm, still draining the dregs of his stew, glares over the top of his bowl at the chalice as if it were a hated living thing that could jump at him in an instant.  Swallowing the last of his meal, he spits on the ground in disgust at the sight of the poisoned challace.  His normally cheerful face turns dark and grimm.  Only a dammed (OCC:  I assume this site has a net nanny or can I spell bad words correctly?) coward wud' use such a thin'.  Firs' we mus' make wit' God's speed to brin' this annedote to the afflicted, then I aimta rut out this foul traitor.  I've an arrow with 'is name onnit.  The word traitor comes from his mouth like venom from the mouth of a spitting cobra.

  Riding up in a woman of some station by her dress and bearing on a fine mare bred for fighting on who wears the holy symbol of the Goddess in Silver. "Good Jeremiah I have those herbs you needed from my stores when you get Mandrake Root you can give me some as a trade." Getting off her horse a wolf runs up and looks like it may attack her until it plays against her clearly tamed. "Excuse me I didn't see a knight among your guests,"courtsies modestly as to a peer in rank,"I'm Lady Maeve Rryn eldest child of Sir Edward Rryn who holds some lands in Wales across the border pleases to make your acquaintence Sir Knight." Is a Pagan noble but one with some learning perhaps time at the Royal Court when younger. To the others,"I'm a druidess in service to the Goddess and to my people Jeremiah was my teacher in herbs and the healing arts." Petting the wolf,"This is Mara my beloved companion."

Fr. Rys bows to Lady Maeve Rryn

Good day m'Lady. In the name of God I greet you. How goes it with you this day?

  "Good day father its not bad but if your here there must be some important reason is someone ill?" Clearly knows the hermit is skilled in such arts even beyond her arts. "Perhaps my magic could be of help I have many potent charms of power to treat the ill."

Colm raises his eyebrow at the Father's casual greeting to the Druid while barely looking up from the table.  Although there is nothing new about Pagans in his native land among the Celts, since the conversion of many of his fellows (including himself), he has come to view them with much suspicion.  Even as servants of Satan, himself.  Not sure how to greet this arrival, but feeling that he should considering her noble status, he looks up from the table at the woman.  He stands, bows appropriately, then he flashes her a quick smile.  G'day mi'lady  he says politely.

He then sits down, having little more to say.

Calis turned to look at the newcomer and a wide smile split his mouth. "Ah, Lady, it is nice to be traveling with another who follows the Old Ones. I feel a little out of my element here since all of my companions here worship the Christ God and I do not. So well met, my name is Calis."

  She goes over and hugs him with a kiss on the cheek,"May the Goddess be kind to you." Shocking any others of rank she simply notes,"Pagan nobles do not look down on those of lesser station as a rule and he's a handsome fellow and I'm a woman with a good eye." Laughing,"My own mother is a common woman and a daughter of the Earth yet seems to be a worthy spouse to my father." Looking at the others,"But noone has answered my question is there someone still alive whose in need of curing of this poison I may be able to help?"

  Jeremiah thanked the knight for the chalice examining it for a moment, before cradling it in his wrinkled hands.  "We shall see what we are dealing with when I have had more time to test what is in this cup.  Can you tell me what the effects were upon the victim?  It is important so that I may examine the more likely toxins first."

   "Well good lady, thank you for returning so promptly, your eagerness to learn is encouraging and warms an old teacher's heart," Jeremiah moved to receive the offered plants, keeping the poisoned goblet within his other hand.

   "It would seem we have a puzzle to solve yes, but we shall do it with herbs and not magic.  Come," he motioned to the new arrival and to Chrissa.  "Let us see if we can discover what this is.  If you can think of any more details about the effects of this poision, please join us in the cave.  Please excuse us," he bowed and turned to go into the cave, motioning for his students to follow.

As the room begins to clear off all the "thinkers" Colm begins to get restless.  Not having a great love for sitting around, and not feeling much like "chit chat"  he decides to make himself useful.  He stands up from the table, and looks around 'scues me all, I need care for the animals.  Sides I've got little skill at herbs.

He leaves and goes to the horses, assureing they are fed, watered, and brushed down.  All the while, he sings quietly to himself.  A simple tune.  One of hunting, bravery, and praise to the bounty of the Lord.

Seeing that the group is breaking up as the herbalists examine the poison, Fr. Rys walks a short way off and pulls out his Bible and begins to read, pray and mediate.

Chrissa gives a reassuring look to Colm as they depart, before turning to the new arrival with a friendly nod.

"'The Lord blesse thee, and keepe thee...'"

"I am Chrissa, humble servant of the One God.  Jeremiah is a good teacher, is he not?"

Colm catches Chrissa's glance.  He grins and nods back, gratefully, with a twinkle in his eye.  He needs a minute to clear his head from all that is going on, and there is something honest about caring for good, honorable beasts.  He goes about his task singing to himself in his deep baritone voice.

Pedivere inclines his head towards the new arrival "My name is Pedivere, son of Sir Artlan, Knight of the Realm of Arthur, King of England." he smiles warmly, but then as soon as it appears it is gone as the young knight continues his discussion with the healer Jeremiah.

"I was not made privy of the nature of the illness, merely that you would be able to make the required antedote.  All I can say is that urgency was stressed.  How the King's ally fares after suffering such ignomious and deceitful a plight I can only begin to imagine."

The knight bows ever so slightly before turning to take his leave, but stops for a brief second to ask a simple question.  "Do you have any estimate as to the time the elixir will take to manufacture good Jeremiah?"

Aeron starts into a coughing fit again.  He looks incredulously at the knight and the new arrival.  He shakes off the coughs, shrugs his shoulders, and dives back into his stew. "Father, does he always do that with people he meets?" the fool asks the padre.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:28, Wed 27 Oct 2004.

"A man's life, and ultimately a kingdom are at stake.  I did not realise that your sensibilities were of a higher priority.  If they are, then forgive me my abruptness.  I had no idea that you were of such importance."  Pedivere smiles at the fool and then bows slightly to him.

"Of course, I am sure that the good lady here," he gestures to the latest arrival, "would appreciate the urgency of the matter and understands that answering the questions of Jeremiah are far more important than stading on ceremony."

The smile fades and Pedivere moves off to tend to his mount, Thunder, and his gear of war.

The knight's urgency resgister's with the apothecary as he and the two women disapear into his cave.  A glow can seen coming from within, but whatever it is they are saying is too faint to be heard.

   Meanwhile Colm and Rys move off on their own designs while the fool and ministrel sit beside the fire, eating stew, sipping warm tea, and conversing.  The knight moves to care for his steed.

   After many moments the hermit emerged from his cave coughing a wheezing cough, one hand on his chest as he grasped the side of the cave's opening to support himself, taking in draughts of fresh air.  Seconds later his two students followed in kind.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:19, Wed 27 Oct 2004.

Fr. Rys jumps up immediately.

Jeremiah! Ladies! What ails you? How may I, servant of God, aid you?!?

  Meave will help support Jeremiah and get him to someplace to sit down then make a cup of tea with some healthful ingrediants as he talks to the visitors. "Here you go Jeremiah this should help you with your health some and warm your bones." Sits with him and pets Mara her wolf companion who sits near her at her feet.

The old man coughed and wheezed for a second more, waving the priest off as he struggled to regain his breath.  Jeremiah flushed red before the normal ruddy colour returned to his face.  Wiping his mouth with a hankerchief, he sat himself down on a large rock and blew out a breath.

Aeron jumps up looking at the beset Jeremiah, Are you ok? Without waiting for an answer Aeron rushes to the three and helps them from the cave to find seats in the fresh air.  He helps first jeremiah followed by the two ladies.  Then worrying that the information that might be needed could be smouldering on fire or worse in the cave, he runs into the cave, intent on removing the goblet from whereever it might be....

Pedivere now out of his armour, leaps forward and assists Maeve in getting Jeremiah to a comfortable position.  Concern shows on his face as he speaks to the Lady.

"Are matters alright, is this normal?"

  "He has lived many winters Sir Knight I'm afraid he is getting closer to meet his god each day but he's a tough old man like an old wolf with less strength of body- but with sharp wits." Makes a tea to help his chest and breathing as planned.

Jeremiahs begins to wave off all the attention but realizes the futility of his efforts and allows the concerned to help themselves feel better by doing something.  "Just a bit of steam and smell," he smiled, straightening up his sagging shoulders.

  "Such is the touch of evil even this far removed," he sighed allowing the druidess to create some tea for him.  He took the steaming mixture and sipped it waiting for Aeron to return from the interior of his cave.

Chrissa catches her breath and, seeing Jeremiah adequately attended to, quietly observes him with a thoughtful expression...

When he catches his breath and speaks, she responds softly.

"'He shall deliuer thee in sixe troubles, and in the seuenth the euill shall not touch thee.'"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:32, Thu 28 Oct 2004.

Fr. Rys smiles at the passage and looks at Chrissa

Job is an interesting person to read about

Looks at Jeremiah

Is there anything that I can do for you Jeremiah?

Chrissa smiles approvingly.

"Indeed he is..."

Her smile changes to a thoughtful, slightly sad expression.

"Would that all from the church of Rome share your interest and enjoyment of the Holy Scriptures..."

  "I don't think so the cave has many chemicals and ingrediants druids don't use but I think he has a cure for your Lord's guest if I'm not mistaken." Smiling she pampers Jeremiah,"My most men would like an attractive woman tending them so." Kisses him on the cheek as he gets to business.

"Oh peace lady!" Jeremiah fusses at the peck on his cheek.  Fixing the druidess with look, an eyebrow lifted up with stern question at her presumption.

   He took another sip of his tea before beginning to address the group that travelled so far to see him.

    "Your poison is not a poison, it is a disease," he paused, clearing his throat again to clear the gravely craggy, quaver.  "It is a disease from a foul blackness spawned out of a nightmare.  It is taken from the blood of a creature that haunts the night and the dreams of men," he pauses pondering for a moment...

  "What by the Goddess could this foul abomination be?" She is getting pale and even Mara looks concerned at her mistresses look.

Fr. Rys looks surprised

A poison! And one made from the blood of a dark creature as well?!

Looks at Sir Pedivere

This miscreant needs brought to justice...both wordly and divine. Consorting with demons is not looked kindly upon by my superiors

Looks at Lady Maeve and Calis

And nor is it, to my understanding, looked well upon those of the Old Faith

Pedivere acknowledges the words of the priest with a sad look upon his face.  "Dark it is indeed, when those who walk upon God's Earth do seek to consort with his foe.  Yet I cannot bring this beast to justice, nor the creature from which this disease has been made, though it pains me to say so.  Instead, I must ensure that the disease is cured.

"Jeremiah, do you have a cure for this disease, or know from where one can be obtained?  It is imperative to the survival of a God fearing man, and the stability of a Kingdom.  If this man should die, many more may follow."  As he speaks, the knight clenches his fists together, the knuckles white, yet his face remains calm and composed.

The fool comes out of the cave with the goblet held in his hand, he spits into the grass as he comes out, Now that tastes blimey aweful.  What in all that is holy's name was in this cup Jeremiah?  Your grotto is gonna take weeks to clear.  Pah!  If I didn't know better I would say that at your age Jeremiah, breaking wind and causing a stink like that would mean you have something seriously wrong with you. The fool jokes as he returns to the clear air.

Having brushed, watered, fed and talked to his horse, Colm picks up the sound of voices raised in alarm in the hermits humble home.  Not being one to ask for invitations he comes hastily into the hovel.  The solemn nature of the inhabitants (excepting the fool), hits him like a solid object.  He catches snippets of all that was said, but one piece of the talk hits his ears and he nearly retches.  Ya mean ta tell me, that the coop has suum manner o' demon's blood in it?  Thas' whas caused the sufferin'?!  he looks with revulsion at the chalice as if, at any moment, the blood would take shape into a full fledged scion of Satan.  His normally cheeful face turns grim as he glances about the room.  He cant help but linger, if only for a second, on the Pagan's present.  A superstitious distrust welling in him.  I'll wager they know a bit a'bout demons, he thinks to himself.  He makes the sign of the cross on himself, opens the door and spits out of it, mumbling I renounce Thee Satan

OCC:  No offence to any actual pagans present in this game.  I am only trying to represent how I think a Christain from this time would react to this, very uncomfortable, situation.

  "The Goddess doesn't approve of consorting with unnatural creatures such as these a Dryad or fairy is fine but such a dark being." Looks at the priest,"Looks like we have our work cut out for us this villian knows the darkest mysteries and must be utterly destroyed with his creature." Looks at Jeremiah,"Is there a cure?"

I agree. However, Sir Pedivere states the king's man comes first. Looks lost in thought for a moment. I am not sure which is more pressing; one man in the kingdom, or ridding the kingdom of a person who has access to such evil. I need to pray over this.

  "Well save the human life of course then find this villian to end the threat but sparing this man could draw out his attacker forcing a more direct response." Thinks as she shakes her head,"Such a dark power is a threat to the realm Goddess worshipper or one who serves the One God."

My only concern is that, by focusing on finding a cure, we give this miscreant time to to more mischief. However, if we focus on the miscreant, the king's man, and probably will, die.

  "My thinking is why he used such a tactic just a fast poison could have killed him before a cure could have been found, or a quick dagger." Frowning and getting angry,"This villian wants to make an example and undermine the King and the Knights of the Round Table and fears not old faith or new." Clearly upset,"And let me guess word at court must be followers of the Old Faith behind this I suspect the Bishop must love this turn of events to stoke hatred of the Goddess." Looks at the priest,"Most don't seem as open minded as you good Father or Jeremiah." Gets sadder...

Jeremiah sighs and looks up sadly, then begins to nod.  Raising a finger as a thought strikes him he shakes it.  "I know of a way.  It will require strong magic to stop this black disease.  I will see what I have and see what I need."  He continues to nod, rising from his spot.  Folding his hands before him in prayer he begins to chant for a moment and the group realizes he is praying.  The summer breeze suddenly begins to pick up and changes direction.  It is warm, and comforting, fresh.

   He ceases his prayer and turns and smiles at the group as the breeze ruffles the edges of his robes and blows into the interior of his cave.  He waits for a moment to pass before entering into cave.  No coughing can be heard.  Several moments pass as the party discusses its concerns.

    He re-emerges and retakes his seat on the boulder.  Pressing his lips together he pauses a moment before speaking.  "The demon's hold is strong on this man.  I have some of the ingredients, but not all.  I will begin creating what I can, but I have need of other items.  Will you retrieve them for me?"

"A demon?" Calis snarled as he listened to the herbalists words. "Aye, even the druids of my grove and the other groves I have visited at times did not hold to contacting such forces. As my pagan Lady said, a dryad or fairie are respected but darkness and demons would be faught with all of the powers of the Old Ones," the ministrel said as he looked up from where he was quietly sitting and watching. He flashed a look at Lady Maeve before nodding and smiling at her.

What ingredients do you need, and where might we procure them for you?

Colm's face becomes even grimmer at the Lady's words.  Or, me Lady, the killer may be trying to distract us by havin us off chasin' the wee' people and leavin' the king exposed and distracted.  Is' not unknown that the king cares more for them that surround him then hisself.  If somun' wanted to keep the king busy and get his protectors lookin' the other way, a slow death of a court memeber and a long quest'ed be how they do it.  he pauses for a second   There be another thought as well.  What if the disease was to do more than kill 'da man.  Whatif the goal was to steal his soul....  he visibly shudders.

Aye.  I'm in an' ready for action.  We' done too much talkin' for my likin' already

"I hesitate to ask, but you are an intrepid lot, prone to adventure and risk.  And, there is a life in the balance," he regards each of those assembled seriously.

   "I require several elements, but the first must be a dragon scale.  It will take the longest to transmute.  I do not know where a dragon's lair is though I am afraid," he shook his head.  "But I do know of one who does.  A wizard named Fiallan.  His tower," he began, turning and pointing to the west.  "Is have a day's ride from here.  In the valley of that mountain."  His gesture becomes more specific.  "There you must go and ask him.  I will give you a letter to present to him so that he knows that you are there at my behest." He nods and looking to the group expecting comment.

A, eh, Dragon.. you say?  He says, clearing his throat.  Being more the stealth oriented type, the vision of him and his horse bursting into flame was not particularly pleasing.  Perhaps the knight will find such an end almost desireable, but Colm was a bit more practical.  His mouth a little dry, he continues, Do these beasts shed?  Mayhaps we'll fin' a scale lyin' 'round, for a frontal assult on such a beast seems madness.  He shakes his head I, of 'curse, 'll do what is required for God n' King

  "Dragons creatures of nature and a bit of magic about them but not all are out to eat maidens and kill knights by the Old Tales some hold great wisdom." Smiling,"Ever think knight of asking the creature for a scale and do a little flattery- they are as a rule intelligent with mysterious natures at times." Looks at the priest,"They are not demons and most wish to be left alone by the tales. "I'll approach it if need be as a friend may get what we wish without fighting but the creature is part of this world and the free spirit of the Goddess- I may die as well as get help." Smiling adds,"I never met such a creature personally but if I meet it unarmed and be clearly interested in helping another I may get a scale for the cure or return to the Cycles of Life and Death earlier than planned." Looks at the group,"But I will not fight the dragon its older and graced by power blessed by the Goddess more valuable to her than a mortal man even the good King or his guest."

Pedivere raises his hands slightly, in a calming motion.  "These words are rushed and of matters that are not clearly understood.  The victim is not a mere courtier, nay good people, the unfortunate is indeed the King of Norway, beloved Arthur's staunch ally and friend.

"The throne of Norway is usurped by a sinister imposter, the crown prince exiled.  Talk of vengeance against this consort of daemons and devils is premature.  First and foremost, the King of Norway must be healed, for if he is not, that noble nation will flounder and darkness prevail."

Pedivere kneels down so that he can look the apothecary, Jeremiah in the eyes.  "You may not be safe here Jeremiah.  Those responsible for this unconcionable, diabolical act are most likely seeking to hinder all efforts to create the antedote.  I cannot seek the items you need and protect you at once, nor can I in good faith expect others without martial training to do either.  Will you return with me to more civilised lands, where you can be protected and aided as well in the creation of this tonic?  Perhaps it is possible that some if not all the ingredients you require can be found in the keeping of my liege?"

Pedivere stands continuing to talk, but now to himself, his chin resting in his hand as he ponders the new predicament. "At the least, this dire news needs to be brought to the attention of the King, though the ingredients must be sought and the apothecary protected from the enemy."

  "Peasant or King this dragon is sacred to the Old Faith as all of them even the tempermental ones killing one will have problems Knight." Thinking,"But we must protect Jeremiah may I suggest under the care of the Ladies of the Lake their might is formidable and they are loyal to the King- it will be a longer journey but worth the risk but its up to Jeremiah." Thinking,"I'll escourt him there through the woods and forests would someone else come with us like the good man of the Old Faith- the rest can seek the Dragon Scale?"

OOC - I actually didn't speak anything about the Dragon.... If you note I was responding to the talk of justice.

  Jeremiah chuckles at the notion of leaving his domicile.  "No I will not go from this place.  I have survived this long here in peace.  I have my ways of remaining safe.  The Lord is my light, and my salvation, whom shall I fear?" he smiled, quoting a psalm.
   "No, here I will remain.  This is my home, my instruments and shop are here.  Now," he said, changing the subject.  "Fiallan is located in the valley of that mountain.  Aeron, will guide you there."  Without warning the apothecary chanted a few words of prayer and tapped the fool in the centre of his forehead.

Aeron shakes his head two no three times as if trying to clear his vision, Aw Jeremiah, now why did you have to go and do that?  Can you not just give me directions?  He shakes his head again.

    Ok sir kniggity and everyone else, We have got to go see this wizard or else I am going to be seeing clear for way too long.  The fool appears to have some clarity, more than he normally has.  He scowls at Jeremiah.

    I vote we leave at once!  And Jeremiah, should we take the cup? the fool asks while brandishing the same.  It could let an enemy know where you are if I remember some of the things about Thamateurgy that the court wizard told me.  Then again, if we take it the enemy may figure out what we are about, or where we are going.  Heh, I think this is a conundrum.  Here I always wanted a conundrum!  Now that I have one I am not so happy about it, he says laughing.

Pedivere nodded, knowing that he could not change the old man's mind.  "Then do you have any other trustworthy assistants who could perhaps carry a message to the holdings of Sir Ectors?"

Seeing that the fool continues to have the cup of Norway, the young Knight holds out his hands.  "Unless, after identifying the poisonous residue there is still reason for the cup to remain here, I shall take it, as it was entrusted into my keeping I shall be responsible for it."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:02, Fri 29 Oct 2004.

Calis continued to listen to the talk and swallowed a lump in his throat at the mention of a dragon and trying to get its scale. He shook his head as his companions and friend tried to get the herbalist to leave his home.

  "Very well Jeremiah I'll ask my fathers men to look in on you from the tower keep if you won't leave,"a bit sad,"now about this Dragon we are to meet can anyone here deal in the King's name a debt of the King to the noble creature may be a fair trade for its scale if we have to ask?" Smiling at the knight,"If it does shed scales its going to be on the Dragons territory tresspassers sneaking around may call down its wrath- an emissary of the High King under a truce may be better met." Drawing upon her knowledge of Nature as any Dragon is part of its cycles like the tree and the bird and the seasons.

Colm waits, standing in a corner of the room away from the conversation.  He has no wisdom in such things, and despite his love for the natural order, does not understand the Druidess's reference to these "magical" beasts as natural.  He quietly takes in the conversations.

   "You need not worry, your regaining of good sense will not last for long," Jeremiah quiped.
   "I have no need for the cup now," he says more seriously, in reply to the question of the chalice.  "I know what it is that must be done. Each of us must do, as our role demands.

   He turns to the druidess to address her promise of help. "If that will ease your heart lady, than I will allow it," he smiled insightfully.

  "Now for that letter," he says, excusing himself to return to the interior of his cave.  He returns moments later clutching a rolled piece of parchment, sealed with a dab of red wax.

   "Present this to my friend Fiallan.  He should be gracious enough to provide you with the knowledge you seek," he nods, providing the letter to Sir Pedivere.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:05, Sat 30 Oct 2004.

OCC:  I dont know what time it so, SO, if its early enough (say no later than 4-5 PM)

BIC:  Aye, then.  Less' be off.  The harses are fed, watered and ready.  We can get some miles on our way befor' we need campin'

OCC:  If it is much later than above.

Althu' I hav' a sense-o-haste about what wer' doin' here, this day has been long an' these harses' need rest.  I'd hate to pushem'.  Need drives us, though.  I say we call and arly night and an early rise to make our way.

OODM  It's about 3:30-4:00 PM

  "I know most of you I'm daft for thinking highly of dragons but they are part of the goddess like a nymph is her beauty dragons are her ugliness- both are magical and part of her." Frowning,"I will not make war on one unless I have to and its not worth the life of even a great King to me." Looking at the others,"If one was insane or possessed by a dark power rampaging across the land that would be different but just for a scale I will not fight one just so you understand." Looking at them,"We have to find a way to get one Jeremiah must it be a scale directly from the dragon or if we find one near the lair would that suffice?" Is clearly concerned here.

Colm turns to leave during the Lady's speech. When his back is turned, he rolls his eyes and leaves the room.  Out side, he prepares the horses and grumbles to himself Mayhaps 'er ladyship'll give the draggin' a kiss and he'll yank a scale from his arse and give it too her.  Bloody Druids.

Aeron simply hands the cup back to Pedervere's outstretched hand.  He wistles a happy tune as her gets a nother bite of stew while preparations are being made to leave.

Still mostly keeping his thoughts to himself, Calis looked and listened while storing away all that was side so he could recall it later if and when he started to work on a song or tale about him and his companions. He agreed mostly with the druid, even if he didn't say so. Seeing that the others were almost ready to leave, the human finished his stew and waited to see what was going to happen. He also felt torn because he didn't want his friend to be angry with the other follower of the Old Ones but Calis's belief's also pulled him to partly agree with the druidess as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:36, Sat 30 Oct 2004.

Fr. Rys nods his head towards Jeremiah.

I thank you for the letter of introduction.

To the rest of the party

Is not how to deal with ths dragon a bit premature? We won't know until we talk to Fiallan what the creature's disposition is. And even then, we may not know. I do agree that a report should be made on the nature of the poison, so at least some preparations can be in place if another such attempt is made.

To Lady Maeve

M'Lady, could one of your father's retainers be a messenger back to the King? If so, could he also carry a missive from me to his Grace, the Archbishop of Canterbury? I have a feeling that our party, as eclectic as it is, should remain whole.

"Father," Jeremiah said, nodding and acknowledging the priest's thanks.  "I myself have no such retainers.  With Aeron acting as your guide I fear that I am without others to call upon in this matter.  I gather it is important for word to reach Sir Ector of your travels?"

OODM


The sun will be down around 10 PM and dawn wil come around 5 AM.  The location is so far north that the summer days are quite long.

This message was deleted by the player at 23:10, Sun 31 Oct 2004.

Pedivere inclines his head to the fool, Aeron, "Thankyou."  Gently, wrapping the goblet back in the cloth he tucks it saftely back into his pack.

"My lady, do not fret over your precious dragon.  I have no desire to risk the lives of those around me unless it is unavoidable.  However, I would dearly appreciate your assistance in bringing news of the problem to Sir Ector and the King.  As we now move into potentially a very dangerous situation, if we fall, they must know the twist of fate that Jeremiah has informed us of."

  "Very well Sir Knight if you wish I can go to Camelot myself by wing it could take me a few days flight and Mara my beloved wolf can guard Jeremiah she's a brave girl." Looks at the knight,"Seems to me this foul disease could be at least slowed and symptoms treated now we know what it is to by you time I'm a fair healer with powerful magics if needed." Adds,"And a wise druid may have the resources to protect the noble from further attacks." Looks around,"With your permission I'll leave at once."

The knight shakes his head, his long hair flicking about his handsome face.  "The one afflicted is in Norway.  The one that needs to be informed is here in England.  A letter from myself to Sir Ector would suffice."

     Aeron whistles a small tune as he makes sure his provisions are in order.  Looking at the grave expressions of those assembled, he wonders if he will ever get them to relax.  He thinks to himself, 'These people are wound so tight, they seem dangerous.  Not exactly the safest people to be with.    He stay in obtrustive and eventually starts up a conversation with his stick.  It goes something like this;


Yes, yes I know where we are going.
no reply
You see Jeremiah has made it where I cannot get lost.
no reply
What do you mean I could get lost finding my way to my own arse, you son of a twig.  I should use you for kindlin
no reply
You wouldn't dare!  Why for that I would drop you in the nearest privy.  I don't care how smart you are or claim to be.
no reply


This goes on without stop for sometime

M'Lady, how long would it take you to get to Sir Ector's holdings and back?

"Two days each way I think, if I remember correctly how far he is from the mountains," she said, giving the distance some thought.

"Then,"<DarkBlue> began the young knight, <DarkBlue>"I shall write a missive for my friend and liege if you shall take it to him."

Pedivere pauses for a moment as though contemplating a problem.  "Does anyone have ink, pen and paper?"

Fr. Rys looks through his bags. My apologies Sir Knight. I thought I had such implements with me. It appears that I forgot them in Canterbury in my haste to get to Sir Ector's.

Nodded partly in agreement with the Father. "Sorry my friend, I usually don't carry paper and ink. The memorization lessons of the druids is what I use to remember things instead of writting things down."

"I have such items if you wish to use my tablet and materials," Jeremiah offered, gesturing towards the interior of his cave...

"Thankyou good Jeremiah, I will indeed make use of your utensils."

Quickly, Sir Pedivere moves into the cave, writing a short, informative note on the proceedings.  Then, the note will be sealed and handed to the Lady Maeve.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:45, Wed 03 Nov 2004.

Sir Pedivere, so as to not bog down the Lady Maeve, could you add an additional line in your missive to inform his Grace, the Archbiship of Canterbury of what is happening?

Pedivere returns in short time with the sealed letter, handing it to the Lady Maeve.  "I trust this to your keeping.  Deliver it to Sir Ector, and Sir Ector alone, unless of course the King himself will meet with you."

The knight inclines his head to the priest with respect.  "I have asked for Sir Ector to have the same information relayed to your superiors."

Fr. Rys returns Sir Pedivere's nod. My thanks Sir Knight

  Lady Maeve accepts the letter and sets it atop the boulder that Jeremiah so recently occupied.  Her form begins to shimmer before it shrinks in size, with her arms growing outward and feathering in fractions of a second.  Flapping powerful wings, an eagle beat its wings in the midst of the group before the parchment resting atop the rock was snatched up.  With a cry she flapped her wings and quickly rose into the sky, heading east for the hold of Sir Ector, leaving the remainder of the party behind...

Somewhat taken aback by the transformation of Lady Maeve, Pedivere took a moment before acting.  "Very well, Aeron we shall leave shortly.  All, gather your belongings, we go to find a dragon!"

Fr. Rys wathces Lady Maeve's transformation with interest. After she has flown away.

An interesting ability that

To Sir Pedivere, A dragon? I thought first we went to find a wizard? Then on to a dragon if he gives us the information needed.

Regardless, Fr. Rys begins to pack up his belongings and secure them to his horse.

Aeron perks up at his name, sticking his stick frustratedly headfirst into a belt pouch.  Ok so lets go, um, east, or was it west.  Oh don't worry about that I know the way even if I don't know the name of the way.  Just follow me and my trusty steed.  Isn't he galliant?

Aeron begins leading his pack laden donkey off in a direction seemingly at random.

Upon seeing the fool just start heading off, Fr. Rys says to himself I sure hope that fool knows where he's going. Well, must have faith. Fr. Rys finishes his packing, mounts his horse and follows after the fool.

Calis watched the other follower of the Old Ones with interest, sighed, and shook his head. As he climbed up onto his horse again, he muttered, "Some day...." Shaking off his thoughts he waited and watched the others and followed them when they started to head out.

"Yes father, first the man, but ultimately a dragon."

Mounting his mighty destrier, Pedivere follows the fool, Aeron.

The clearing around Jeremiah's cave was quickly left behind as Aeron lead the group from atop his sturdy and loyal grey donkey, the little animal occasionally braying and tossing its head as he urged him forward.  The fool seemed to carrying on a 3 way conversation with his animal, and his jester's sceptre.  For a while it seemed as if it would turn violent, but the donkey seemed to have talked the other two out of coming to blows.

    Aeron moved down deer paths and up over the summitt of the hill that Jeremiah's home was built into.  Reaching the top, the party could see that the hill tops got progressively higher as they moved westward, towards the sun.
    The underbrush was lush and thick with the summer's warmth, ferns and shrubs were covered in green foliage, and the afternoon shade beneath the overhead canopy was cool.  Birds flitted in the trees and squirrels skittered about out of sight but ever present.
     The party crossed slow moving streams and moved around fallen trees.  They found themselves in off beaten areas where only animals and the occasional forrester may wander.  As the sun began to dip behind the mountains, the shadows lengthened and deepened.  The party had only begun to ascend the first mountain when it became harder and harder to see the trail.  Aeron continued to know the way, but directing his animal around any holes or rocks along the way became increasingly difficult to see.

     The decision was made to make camp and watches were set.  Colm quickly built a fire and brought some cheer to the shadowy bivouac.  Calis and Aeron took turns entertaining the group while Chrissa called upon blessings to feed them all.  It was a pleasant scene and a restful one.
     The night passed without incident and the party quickly regained the trail under Aeron's guidance.  He lead the to the top of the mountain and from there, the wizard's tower could be seen.
      It sat tucked atop a gnoll in the valley below.  It starkly contrasted with the wilds around it.  Squat and round with an offshooting stone building, the tower was the only man-made object in sight.
     Ducking back into the shade, the group negotiated its way downward, Aeron's directions seemingly correct.

"Good, good.  Let us proceed, but be wary, I have heard many tales of wizards, most of them from you dear friend.  Let us pray that this wielder of magic is willing to talk."

Aeron commenst, Aye Sir Pedivere, wizards are a stern lot.  Not unlike most knights.  You just got to figure out how to make em laugh.  Sometimes it is funny too as when they start laughing sparrows start flying out of their ears, and stardust shoots from their noses.  Did you know wizards can have more than one?  Noses that is....

Calis chuckled at the words he listened to. "I once saw a two headed cow, but I have never seen a two nosed wizard," he remarked with a grin.

Colm couldn't help laugh at the fool's comment.  Being naturally supersitious, though, he did not view wizards as laughing matters.  Even Merlin gave him the creeps.  He comments to the fool <font color=cyan>Hmmmm if thats all he does, we'll be better for it.  Aye say we get in, get our information and get out.  </font> he says with a scowl, shifting nervously in his saddle.

Sir Knight, as the King's duly appointed person on this quest, will you be heading the discussion with Fiallan?

As they approach the floor of the valley, Chrissa starts to look somewhat preoccupied,  examining her surroundings with a thoughtful expression.

Eventually, she murmurs, half to herself...

"'If the Lord had not holpen me, my soule had almost dwelt in silence...'"

Finally, she stops, raising a hand to halt her companions.

"Please stop for a moment, and listen.  It seems quiet here, as we approach the valley floor.  Perhaps too quiet.  Where are the usual sounds of wildlife?  It seems to me that they have slowly disappeared as we have progressed downward."

"And... do not yonder tent caterpillar nests seem unusually large?"

When Chrissa speaks, Pedivere pauses, lowering his visor and hefting his lance from its seated resting place.  "Colm is there a problem here?  I do not detect fault with the woods, though of course, woodsman I am not.  Chrissa, what is it that you have spied?"

OCC:  Sir Pedivere.  I'm not ignoring you, but I'm waiting on an email from SwimDoll for clarificaiton.

  As the party reaches the valley floor, Colm and Chrissa both point out how quiet their surroundings have become.  Pointing up into the tree tops strands of silk can be recognized.  They are quickly identified as webs, larger than any normal tent catterpillar could create.  They are all around the party on either side, in back and forward in the direction they are travelling.  The normal chirping of birds and skittering of small mammals in the underbrush is curiously absent, only the slight breeze that blows along the valley flow and rustles the leafs creates any sound.
   The wizard's tower is only a few hundred metres away, in a large meadow.  The open area of sunlight becomes that much more attractive in the quiet of the shade in which they all ride...

Colm shifts in his saddle uncomfortably, and quickly unslings his bow and knocks an arrow.  In as few a words as possible Sir Knight... there be predators about.  We ad best be wary.  His eyes dart from side to side and up into the trees.

Hearing the words of his companions, Calis's hand tightened on the sickle that hung from his belt before also moving to touch the club. With a look around, he finally settled on the curved bladed weapon but he didn't draw it off his belt until he was sure it was needed because they might have to ride quickly and riding one handed wasn't wise.

Pedivere urges his steed to the middle of the group, taking a flanking position so that he can move to either end should trouble arise.  "Let us continue forward, Colm where are they most likely to attack from?"

Well, Sir, I don' know exactly, I'm only comment'n that the sudden lack off all critters and the strange quietness of this place, makes me confiden' that ther are predetors about.  Somethin' nasty.  Infn' I had a guess he glances and points at the giant webs in the trees, They'll be hidin' in the trees, trying to trap us with webs n the like.  We may fin' rselves trapped as flies.

"If we are attacked, Chrissa, Calis, Aeron and Father Rys, make for the tower as quickly as possible.  Colm, you and I will attempt to force the retreat for the others.  Then, as soon as you can, make for the tower yourself and I will rearguard for you.

"Though," he continues, "let us pray that we will not be beset."

Aye, tho' If needs be we flee, I like your plan but, I would add one more thing.  As you said, you can cover' my retreat some distance from the battle.  From this distance, ye need no' stan' alone. I can cover your retreat with my bow, thus we may aid one another and save ar' mates, also.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:11, Mon 08 Nov 2004.

This message was deleted by the player at 02:39, Mon 08 Nov 2004.