You finish up your business at Fort Cross, taking on the tribute from the dwarves and the urns of the dead who join the others in the wagons goingn to Port Lyalee.  You can obtain the ammunition, newly cleaned armor and newly sharpened weapons, and rations you were promised, and finish up any purchases you wished to make from the quartermaster (or trades you wanted to make with any soldiers).  Master Deyna also hands each one of you a purse containing 100 pieces of gold.

"I promised you another quarter of your pay at the Fort, and here it is!  Hopefully should be less than a week to Port Lyalee.  I've been spending the last week making sacrifices to Fharlaghn for a smooth road!"

You start out the next morning at a good pace, as all the horses pulling the wagons (plus all the drivers) have had a week's rest and are in a fine fettle.  With the Leafblade Company arranged all along the caravan to give warning of any danger, you rattle down out of the Firespine Mountains and down the long slope to the coast.  The first four days Master Deyna times the caravan to reach a village or small town by nightfall, and engages in a little trade with some merchants there; bar stock for furs, seed for spices, tools for boxes of raw clay, etc.

On the morning of the fifth, the day's dawn barely arrives, as the sky is iron-gray with overcast clouds.  Distant rumbles of thunder punctuate most of the day, and though you get a little rain, you see that off to the east there was a tremendous cloudburst.  That might have ultimately meant nothing, if you hadn't arrived at a bridge by midafternoon.  Or what would have been a bridge, if it was clear it hadn't washed out when the small river it crossed had been swollen by the upstream deluge of rain.  Now all that is left is a shallower fording spot, some shattered timbers, and swift-moving river that's barring you from the other side...

Those riding with Master Deyna, and anyone within 100 yards, hears a very colorful, inventive, and thorough stream of cursing at this discovery!

Volsh laughed from atop his new horse. He said to no one in particular, "perhaps you didn't sacrifice enough to Fharlaghn Master Deyna."

Then he dismounted and tied his horse off to one of the wagons. He stretched his legs from the ride and waited for someone smarter to suggest what to do next.

Lantamori turned Cloud about to watch the way they'd come for miscreant activity.  The elf was sure their caravan master had come across washed out bridges before and knew the best way to overcome such natural obstacles.

Dellas had taken this time to study Haazheel's spellbook and copy a couple of spells from it into his own. Long days he sat in the seat of the wagon, his head bumping along as he carefuly transcriped the ancient runes upon his own book.

"Thank you Haazheel, that shall our company greatly."

Over the next two days when he was not eating he worked diligantly on crafting a couple of scrolls for himself.

OOC: X2 Craft Magic Missle at 5th Level -- 125 GP, 5 XP to do so.

Dellas had decided to take a break with the oncoming storms, Dellas did not want to risk his book on the 5th day and as such Dellas sat riding in the wagon when they came upon the overran river. Dellas swung his legs over the side of the wagon and flopped down as he was accostumed to doing, strolling towards the front he looked at the river

"Well that's no good is it. Perhaps we could move further south to see if it eases up that way?"

Narthian frowns at the river. "This is a delay only," he says, looking along the course of the river and the lay of the land. We can caulk the wagons to float them, build a raft, or scout for a better ford. Each poses its own risks which can be reduced with time." He turns to Master Deyna. "My native land is far to the north. Do you or your teamsters know this river?"

Knowledge Nature - clues from the land whether there might be a better ford nearby: 07:24, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 12 using 1d20+10 ((2)). Not very helpful.

Post out of time: [Apologies; I was b arbed-wire wrapped in getting spells straingt (I hope).]

Haazheel spends the next two, rather frustrating, days copying spells courtesy Dellas and Identifying two (I guess) items (bracers and armbands).

{Present]
If there is a safer ford, It probably would be upriver. I'm guessing no bridge; no evidence of one being washed downstream to here. How are we fixed for rope?

"I have 50 feet of silk rope," Farian says. "And we have the 50 feet from the treasure trove. I would wager that Master Deyna has some as well."

Haazheel looks to see if there are any trees by the river.

Master Deyna nods curtly at Volsh, likely agreeing with him but not wanting to tempt fate by saying anything out loud.

"This is the shallowest spot for a few miles in either direction, and even if it wasn't, the riverbank is not a good road for the wagons.  The wagons are caulked, but it can be hard for the horses when the river's this high.  This is just one more bloody delay..." she says, looking irritated and exasperated.  "If this is a repeat of those wretched ogres with their 'tree in the road' plot from the beginning of the trip, I won't need the barbarian to skewer them through, I'll do it myself!"

She passes the word down the line to the other drivers (along with Gav and Maris, who tend to the herd of relief mounts and pack horses).

The small herd of horses go over first, carrying ropes that they tie to the shattered bridge timbers.  Gav and Maris get them over the ford, though they have to swim briefly in one place, and have difficulty finding their footing.  A few of the more heavily-laden ones have a lot more trouble, and Gav has to go back on his slightly larger mount to help them.  It's clear the rain has made the river run much faster than normal.  They string ropes across the river, not as much to stop the wagons from floating downstream (that would take a lot more rope), but to give anyone washed away a fighting chance to grab a rope.

Those riding on the wagons (Dellas, Farian, Haazheel, possibly Narthian and Thunder if they don't want to swim) are asked to watch for any obstacles being washed down the river towards the wagons as they cross.  Luth and Keevak, the caravan porters, will help bring up the rear.

As the caravan strikes across the ford, all goes well for the first half of the caravan.  The wagons are heavy enough to stabilize the horses, and the water makes the wagons buoyant enough to move even through the swiftly-flowing river.  It's not until the first of the slightly lighter wagons carrying the noble dead that there's trouble.  The horses have a little more difficulty keeping the wagon from being pushed around by the water, but more importantly there is a waterlogged tree in the water swiftly moving towards the side of the wagon, and will be there in mere moments!

Farian is riding on this wagon, choosing to act as honor guard for the deceased, and shouts the alarm. She tries to move to fend off the tree without upsetting the equilibrium of the wagon.

Once the fording had begun, Volsh untied and remounted Eagle. He held back, waiting for something dire to come along as it inevitably would he knew. When Farian called out the alarm he looked up. His gaze had wandered since things had been going so well and Volsh had gotten bored.

He grunted when saw the waterlogged tree coming down and spurred Eagle forward into the water while he tried to retrieve his fishing net. Once he had it in hand he tried to cast it out to snare the tree and pushed Eagle to pull back in the water, hoping its strength and his aim proved true.

OOC: how big is the tree? how far out from the shore are they when it is spotted?

Plan - have Eagle move out into the stream; move action to retrieve a net; standard action to throw it out and try to catch the tree with it. Maybe Eagle could start moving backward if she hasn't used all her movement?

If it'll help to drag the log, Volsh will rage against the log's innevitable movement & gain +4 Str in the effort as a free action.

Narthian and Thunder were among the first to swim across, Take 10 on Swim, Nartian 14, Thunder 12. and are busy scouting the far bank when Farian calls. They sprint back to the bank to see how they might help.

Still on the dry side watching the trail behind them, Lantamori ignored the high pitched cries of the human cleric's hysterics.

Best case, she saw a stick in the water.  Worst case, this was a distraction and the enemy was about to pounce.  She was wary of pouncing.

She was also trying to figure out a way to cross without getting wet.

Haazheel is riding in the noble dead wagon. Seeing the oncoming log. he tries to judge it probable path and thinks of how to use his quarterstaff to ease it by the wagon. Others can tell his plan because he is bracing himself and had the staff held tip out.

Watching from the bank, when Dante sees the approaching tree, there's nothing he can do that might have any affect on it before it arrives. Had he thought of it, one of the silk ropes tied to an arrow might have given them a means to guide the tree behind the wagon, but there's no time for that now.

All he can do at the moment is call for the next wagon to a halt before it enters the water, and pray that Volsh succeeds -- or Farian and Haazheel can fend if off if the big warrior isn't wholly successful.


OOC: How many of the wagons still need to cross? Especially how many of the lighter ones?

Volsh tossed his net out and snagged the approaching log, and in a rage heaved it with all his adrenaline induced strength. He diverted its course, though it seemed he and Eagle still needed to work on their rapport together. He strained and pulled on the log diverting its course as best he could.

OOC: Touch attack hit AC 14, Strength check 17, Ride check only a 9 though.

22:01, Today: Volsh son of Vor rolled 14,17,9 using 1d20+8,1d20+5,1d20+6.  Touch, Str check, Ride check.

Dellas looked at the log approaching the wagons, all his magics failed at helping in this endevour all he could look to do "TREE!" he screamed as he pointed towards the approaching tree. He could try to set it ablaze but that would do no good as it crashed into the cart on fire.

Retroactive Swim checks - Narthian and Thunder: 15:16, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 21,21 using d20+4,d20+2 ((17,19)).

We're thinking of entering the Port Lyalee Ironman! ... Have bicycles been invented??? :D

Farian doesn't have Haazheel's reach, and waits until the last moment - which may be a tad too late!

Touch attack + STR check: 15:19, Today: Farian Raymellie rolled 18,14 using d20+6,d20+2 ((12,12)).

Haazheel and Farian also lend their strength to the effort of diverting the log between the wagons, though they mostly just manage to touch it rather than move it along.  Eagle is taking all of her concentration to just keep her and Volsh's head above the water.  Bruenor and Demon plunge into the water when they see the danger (armor already atop the next wagon, in just such an eventuality), catching up to Volsh as heaves on the net he had thrown to snag the tree's waterlogged roots.  With Bruenor directing Demon, the two lash out to aid Volsh's strength and Haazheel and Farian's noble efforts, directing it behind the wagon!

It snags the rope as it goes by, but with a little care and maneuvering from Narthian and Thunder, they keep it from tangling the wagons or horses any further.

With a better idea of what to expect, and the rest of the Leafblade Company on guard on the shore to come to aid, the remaining wagon drivers go in more cautiously, aided by the keen eyes of Lantamori and Averdante as they scan the river for any more heavy debris headed their way.  They avoid any more entanglements, and after another hour all the wagons are on the Lyalee side of the river.

Master Deyna moves the caravan far enough down the road to find a camping spot, then stops early to let everyone dry themselves and their gear out, and get a hot meal into everyone.  The next day she leaves a strongly-worded letter at the nearest town about the bridge (apparently it had washed out the night before, and no one had known before the caravan came through).  The villagers promise to alert the local lord and go to post signs at the crossroads about the bridge in the meantime.

By noon the day after, the caravan crests and hill and before you lies the sweep of a massive blue bay, and a colorful city lying in the protected crescent.  A salt breeze quickens the air, and the sound of gulls and other birds soar over the distant murmur of the crowds.  Master Deyna heaves a sigh of relief as she takes the caravan down to the city gates, which are tall and set in stone with carved relief of various aquatic beasts and monsters.  The guards inspect the wagons, check Master Deyna's papers, and let them through.

Inside, Port Lyalee is a busy, eclectic city, with the buildings painted in many colors and in a variety of materials and patterns.  You can see wood, plaster, and stone, many with vibrant carvings. It's clear many are built to different cultural lines, as you see squatter dwarven dwellings side-by-side to rounded, colorful gnome homes, or tall, elegant homes in the elven mode.  Large bones or shells from sea creatures are frequently integrated, and large colorful lanterns, currently unlit, are strung high across the streets.  The crowds are equally unique, and you spy a few elves with the faint blue tinge and webbed fingers that mark those whose home is the sea in the bustle.

Master Deyna heads to the Guild district immediately, unloading the funeral wagons first at the Gravecrawlers' Guild, then the rest of the tribute at the Moneychangers' Guild who bears the king's seal (for his tax collectors).  She stops the caravan at the Merchants' Guildhall, and hops down to talk to all of you.

"You've done me a fair turn, and more than that, no mistake.  You've been honest, fair, very hardworking, and compassionate.  You've likely spared me no end of trouble on my return trip, even if we don't end up working together again."  In each of your hands, she presses a heavy bag of coin.  Those who look inside find 30 pieces of platinum, over 100gp more than you were due.  "I'll be making a high recommendation to the Adventurers' Guild for you. If you think you'll need work again in a fortnight, we'll likely be making a return trip.  If not, gods bless your future endeavors!"

This street holds Guildhalls for most of the various guilds, including, of course, the Adventurers' Guild.  There is also the Market Square, Inn Street, the Docks, Shrine Street, and the Dockmarket (less expensive goods, but more bargains and occasional oddities).

"I'm going over to the guild to get settled in and cleaned up," Lantamori told the others as she patted Cloud's neck.  "Get an idea of what other jobs might be available."

Haazheel thanks Master Deyna. He suggests Lanatamori, if it please you, let's all go.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:26, Mon 20 May 2019.

Farian praises Pelor for the strength and courage found in the Leafblade Company for their role in protecting the wagons. She's happy to arrive at Port Lyalee without further incident, and heads off to the temple district once Master Deyna releases the company. She performs a few devotions, deposits a few coins in the poor box, then seeks out the head priest regarding Volsh's condition.

Narthian has never been so far south, and eagerly greets the aquatic members of his race. He delights in the colors, seemingly all of those present in nature, and the incorporation of natural things in the architecture. About the only thing he doesn' appreciate is the closed in nature of walls and street. And the constant calling Thunder away from various food vendors, much to the vendor's visible relief.

"I agree with you, Lantamori," Narthian says, and also goes to the guild hall for a bath and change of clothes. Thunder's happy to roll in the dust of  a dry patch of mud in the guild's courtyard.

Volsh grunted when they were able to drag the log away from the wagon. When they reached the other side he patted his new horse on the neck, "well get it in the future together eh Eagle?"

He eagerly strips off his wet things to dry off and took the hot meal offered.

...

Volsh didn't know how to take the site of this large port city. It was new for him and he tried to take it all in for a bit before the caravan descended into the city.

"It was interesting Master Deyna. I think you should offer more prayers to the traveling god before you head back." he said to her when she pressed the pouch into his hands. He turned Eagle away and followed Lantamori to the guildhall. He stabled Eagle and refreshed himself and rested himself.

He spent some time in prayer in his room to the great and small gods,

Once he came out he looked a little more haggard than before, but he looked for some of the others. "Anyone know where this temple to WeeJas is supposed to be?"

Dellas enjoyed the remaining travel as they made their way towards the Port. He was a bit disappointed when their journey was at an end and he was paid, "I look forward to travelling with you again if the stars so say so."

He turned and looked at the others, beaming a smile as he realized now they get to explore this port and the mention of the Adventurers Guild "Sounds like fun, Maybe they will know where a Phoenix is." Dellas skipped ahead towards the guild and then looked back at the others "Well are you coming? We should also look for more pearls."

Haazheel replies to Volsh, "Not I, but one can ask. Wherever we go here, I think we should stick together."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:02, Tue 21 May 2019.

The Adventurers' Guildhall of Port Lyalee is, as all stories have said, completely made of things found by other adventurers and donated to the Guild.  The main building seems to consist of parts of old ships, masts repurposed as columns, siding as walls, ports as windows.  A few larger windows seem to have come from ancient homes or temples, as they're formed of colored glass in all sorts of fanciful scenes out of legends and myths.  The massive double doors, one of which stands open, are formed of a heavy black wood, expertly carved to look like a reclining pair of dragons atop a mound of treasure, and augmented with hammered bits of bronze and cut glass.

Inside, the ribs of ships make up the beams, and a half-dozen chandeliers, not a one matching, stretch down from the ceiling.  Curiously-formed lamps and mismatched (though intriguing) candlesticks line the walls and decorate the tables to await the oncoming of night.  Between lamps made of chull claws and krenshar skulls are a tapestry that depicts a manticore fighting a dozen orcs, a painting of a harpy being pursued by a gold dragon, the preserved body of a splayed-out small kraken, a collection of a dozen decorative plates with designs in high relief, and other such large and bulky treasures.

Any item found that did not suit an adventurer's taste, or was too awkward to carry, and was something they didn't find or didn't wish to find a buyer for ended up here.  It was said that if you managed to find a retired adventurer, their house would look much the same.  Where else would one be able to display their collection of beast horns or captured spellbooks?

No two tables or chairs were alike, and most seemed to have been dining or banquet tables in their youth, now put to use resting the weary bones of adventurers.  The few upholstered chairs were around the massive fireplace (with the large jawbone of some sea creature afixed to the mantle), which has the ubiquitous cauldron emitting a savory aroma over the coals.  There's a half-dozen other patrons here at the moment.  Four seem to be an adventuring group, gathered at a glossy brown table carved with griffons.  There's a slender, tanned human with slicked-back black hair in buff traveling robes, a crow on his shoulder, a muscled half-elf with a longsword and shortsword balancing her blue leather swordbelt, a gnome in deep rose leathers with old keys braided into her hair, and a barefoot elf with his simple breeches and shirt bound close to his lean body with cords.  These four are eating quietly, occasionally gesturing animatedly as they talk in low voices.

The fifth patron is a plump human man in fine crimson linen, rings on every finger, two earrings in each ear, a glittering ruby stud in his nose, wearing multiple bracelets and necklaces.  He chats jovially with the serving man, a gangling human man with knotted muscles and iron-gray hair, before taking his bottle of wine and getting back to perusing a scroll.  The sixth patron is a venerable elf woman with pure white hair, wearing fine, parchment-colored robes.  She has thin, silver jewelry, and one hand seems to be made of pure silver.  A series of five small filigree orbs of silver and pale blue circle the sheets of paper and pots of ink she has at her table, hovering like silent, attentive birds.

Aside from the serving man, there is one more person in the Guildhall, at the large desk at the back of the room.  Presumably the Guildmaster or their representative, the person pouring over the ledger is a massively muscled half-orc woman with a shaved, tattooed scalp and a scar on her forearm that looks like snake fangs... if the snake had teeth the size of an elf's finger.

A door to one side of the desk seems to lead to the kitchen, a door to the right is labeled "Private Rooms".  Stairs at the back likely go up to the barracks rooms and private sleeping rooms.  Near the fireplace is the ubiquitous jobs boards with their plethora of potential opportunities for employment.

Jobs for Adventurers



Adventuers Looking for Jobs



Services for Adventurers



The group, once inside, can inquire of the serving man about places to refresh themselves.  Once you show him your badges and let him know who you are, he nods.

"Right you are, Leafblade Company.  Up the stairs, bathhouse is at the back. There's a cistern on the roof, so water should be warm. Got room in the barracks for you for next three nights for certain, likely longer if you think you'll be there that long. Free for tonight, three silver a day after.  Name's Rosto, if you need me.  Guildmaster is Karaja Fangbreaker."

The bathing room has good privies with not the least bit of smell, four good tubs, and several sinks to clean up in. The soap is harsh but cleansing, and the towels simple sackcloth.  More money will likely produce softer towels and better soap.  The barracks room, a typical example, has sturdy cots and plain, unlocked chests with hafts at their feet.  There's evidence at least four other cots are in use.

Sir Aberlayne takes a quick wash and then will go, with anyone else interested to tell her what you have been up to since you left Redhaven. The Guildmaster looks up at the Leafblade Company at the interruption from her scribing in her ledger.  She has half-moon spectacles perched on her nose, and regards you all with a squint.

"Tell me your tale first.  Gotta do things in order," she says gruffly.  She turns to a clean page and dips her pen in the ink to fill the reservoir.  Upon the relation of your stories, of the ogres, werewolves, vampire spawn, possible actual vampire, lifting a siege, and aiding Fort Cross in recovering tribute, she writes furiously, tongue tapping against one of her small tusks as she does.  At the end of the recitation, she leans back and lifts a tattooed eyebrow at you all.

"Impressive. Moves you up to Ironguard, that will. I'll get new badges in the morning.  Make your marks," she says, indicating where she had finished scribing. Those looking over the account find it accurate, and the handwriting is impeccable.


--

Farian, when you go to Shrine Street, you have no trouble finding the Temple of Light. Made of pale wood and stone, and carved with many windows to let the light in, the inside of the temple is as bright at the outside, augmented by brass reflectors and magical lights.  The priests there are happy to add you to their ongoing rights, and pleased to accept your donation to the needful folk of the area.

"Have you any news to impart, Sister, or any need you need met?" one of the priests asks, a young human woman named Sister Drell.  When told she needs to see the high priest about a serious healing, she is conducted to the private chapel for privacy.  Within an hour, the high priest Leparion, an older half-elf man with pale blond hair just going white, comes to speak with her.  Upon hearing about Volsh's condition, he nods gravely.

"That is indeed dire news.  I must confess, I have never personally lifted a curse of lycanthropy, but I have lifted other curses.  Thought I may ask for the blessing to do so, much remains with the will of the afflicted. This friend of yours must have the strength of spirit to throw off his curse, or else no divine magic I bring to bear can remove it," he says gently.

Now clean and wearing her nice green dress with the leaf and trumpet vine embroidery, the elf wandered back over from the job board to add her name to Sir Aberlayne's account.  She'd left her pack and the rest of her nonmagical gear in the barracks.  She wore a silver dagger in her belt and saddlebags over her shoulder.

The saddlebags were a compromise.  Otherwise, she had no other way to carry the more than three hundred coins she'd collected.  Her small belt purse had proved completely inadequate in capacity.  Perhaps she'd go shopping for a proper bag to match her dress.

As much as he'd grown to enjoy the halflings -- and the tasty meals they'd provided on the journey -- Dante's pleased to have completed another job. The port city is just begging to be explored, and he's never seen sea elves outside of paintings before.

After thanking Master Deyna and wishing her well, Dante goes along with those going to the Adventurer's Guildhall. As curious as he is about exploring the city, he wants to do it comfortably. And preferably not while carrying so much coin all at once, either.

The guildhall is certainly the most eclectic of those he's seen so far.  He eyed the kracken with distaste as he passed it. Some dire sea creature, he suspects, but nothing he'd want to waste coin preserving.

He takes note of the elves in the room automatically, finding no one he knows. The half-elf at the table catches his attention when he notes her blue leather sword belt. It makes him wonder if there's any similarity to the one he claimed, although for now he only takes a cursory look, wanting to get cleaned up first and foremost.

But before that... when he reaches the impressively large guildmaster, he has some matters that take precedence. "Good day, Guildmaster," he greets her. "Are there any private rooms available?" The barracks are adequate, but he has the coin to afford something better, and that's what he'd prefer if one is available. And after that matter has been resolved, "Does the guildhall have a stables, or perhaps an arrangement with a local stable? I've not had a horse to deal with before this, so I'm not familiar with normal arrangements."

If there's a private room, he'll settle his personal gear there, then go back out to see that Mask gets where she needs to go, and that she'll receive proper care. Once the horse is settled, he'll return to the guildhall and get cleaned up -- paying for better soap and towels if that option is there. He's been living rough; it's time to indulge in the benefits of civilization, now.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:12, Wed 22 May 2019.

Dellas is wide eyed as they walked through the double doors, he looked to the dragons "You know a couple illusion spells could make this breathing fire all day long." he said absently to anyone listening and no one in particular. He made his way to the baths, the swim in the river was nice and all but a good bath was needed. He sang a small song as he played in the water as would a child while cleaning himself.

Upon completion he made his way to the barracks and stowed his pack, but kept his coin, spellbook and other items of note upon him as he made his way back down stairs. He nodded in approval of their account and signed his mark in a fluid penmanship.

Dellas from there wandered over to the job board "Oh that one looks interesting. Oh that one sounds like lots of fun. Hey we should go do that one." He looks back to the others who mostly seem to be ignoring him.

Farian shares the tale of the battle with the vampire spawn and the (hopefully) contained vampire. "If not for the foul living vines, our party might have destroyed it. It was a hard test for me, a devotee of Saint Bane, to not have done so. But I have learned much since then, as have those in my company. When we return that way, we will ensure it walks in the Light of Pelor!"

"As for our afflicted friend, I will speak with him. Our druid companion seems quite keen on reminding Volsh that he must be cleansed, so I cannot see why he would not be willing."

As is usual, Narthian and Thunder wander off, probably seeking a park or some other open space.

Looking over the different notices that were posted in the guildhall Volsh nodded and took his gear, saddlebags out with him. "Back later, gonna go stable Eagle and check out some things."

Bruenor takes in the colorful seaside town, amazed at the various sorts of people, buildings, smells...  If nothing else, adventuring let you see a bit of the world.  He was realizing how small his world was before joining the Guild.

"I'm going to get Demon stabled, and will make my way to the Guildhall," he shares.  Demon was always fidgety in a busy town, plus hadn't hunted in some time.  He didn't want to take a chance at leaving him 'loose', or someone's hen or small pet was likely to disappear.  After getting Demon settled, he gives the horse a bit of dried meat for his efforts...that'd have to do for now; and then adjourns to the guildhall to meet up with the others.  He quickly makes his way upstairs to the barracks, anxious to get out of his armor and clean up a bit...but he heads downstairs quick enough for a bite to eat and something to drink.

As the Guildmaster records their exploits, he almost nods in admiration at such an adventure.
 In his defense, it sounded much more impressive when someone else was writing it down.  He allows himself a smile at the news of their new rank...a bit chuffed at what he'd accomplished since leaving his home.

Barring any pressing engagements, once they've sorted out the party loot, he's keen to swing by the Lucky Blade to see what they've got and will see if anyone else wants to go.

There is a basic stable attached to the Adventurers' Guildhall, and for three silver a night your mounts will be fed, groomed, and attended to.  Mounts other than horses, or those with special needs, the Guild will levy a bit more of a fee.  A meat-eating horse like Demon will likely rate an extra 2 silver to stable due to the need for meat, and more wary handling.

Those who want more luxurious care for their mounts, finer grades of feed, tack cleaning or repair, or someone to train their mounts, would best to look for Killdagger Stables, or their rival (which Roscoe the serving man will tell you) Lacewind Mount, Boarding, and Tack.



"Stable's out back, three silver for care and feed.  Got five private rooms available, gold a night.  Put you in the Forest Room.  Nice cat, doesn't shed," the Guildmaster says rapidly.  Her speech is clipped, as if she is thinking of several things at once and can't be bothered to be more eloquent.  When Averdante gives her the gold, she'll slide over the key to him, and tells him to see Roscoe about the towels and soap (for another silver).


The Forest Room has excellent paintings of leafy branches on the walls, a few forest-themed tapestries and paintings, several fine dark green rugs, and a collection of furniture (large bed, desk, two chairs) that seem to have come from a set, all carved from dark wood to look as if it grew there.  The comforter and cushions match the theme, and the mattress seems to be a good one of fine wool and feathers.  Several lamps light the room, enchanted with continual flame to give steady light (with covers to douse their light at night).



Roscoe catches Lantamori when she comes down the stairs, flashing a polite smile.  "Some of our fellows have some items for trade, if you don't want to head down to the market for anything.  Or if you're just going to the Moneychangers' Guild, they're right next door; odd cash is a bit of a hazard of the profession," he mentions to her.



Sir Aberlayne slips up next to her brother once she's done relaying their story to the Guildmaster.  "What's catching your eye, Dellas?  Looks like a few interesting ones down here...  Mimic hunt could be challenging, but what I'm intrigued about is how they can't find the source of that.  That could be an interesting mystery to solve."



Demon can be stabled at the Adventurers' Guild for 5 silver and a quick explanation to the grooms.  The rest of his items settled down, and a quick meal of the usual stew and plain ale (a basic meal for a silver at the Guild), he can stroll out for some shopping.

--

The Lucky Blade, Metal Street

The Lucky Blade is a brightly-lit shop that apparently, from the sounds of it, keeps it smithy in the back so a more convivial shopping experience can be had.  The front room has gleaming racks of weapons, polearms, swords, bows, various examples of arrows, even several rather exotic ones in special cases.  There are more cutlasses and scimitars here, which is not usual along the coast and so relatively close to the Unwanted Desert, along with nets, tridents, and harpoons for those sailing the seas.  The weapons in cases are likely those which are enchanted: a blue longsword with moonstones along the grip, a dagger seemingly made from a large tooth with a ruby tip, an orc double axe made of a solid piece of obsidian, a short sword seemingly made of white metal with tiny runes along the blade, a bastard sword whose hilt and quillions look like feathers, a longbow wrapped in purple leather, a bright yellow shortbow, and a rapier that glows in cascading rainbow colors.

There is a middle-aged human man in silvery leathers with the same symbol as the Lucky Blade worked on it who seems to be in charge of the shop, currently aiding a young woman in her selection of daggers.

----

At Pelor's Temple of Light, Shrine Street



"The vines may not have been so foul," High Priest Leparion says thoughtfully.  "The way you described the room and the history, as well as how the vampire was kept, it sounds like the elf priests of Greenhaven were killing the vampire, but slowly and with a care to return its power to the earth, with guardians to make certain no one accidentally freed it.  It is a slow death, but for all the misery it had inflicted, perhaps they felt the vengeance was necessary. Elves have long lives and long memories, and their laws differ amongst their own people. They apparently missed the creation of the spawn you ended up destroying, which was to their sorrow.  If you return to slay the vampire with Pelor's Light, you must be utterly certain of its destruction, lest we let loose a greater evil already being held and slowly slain.

"As for your friend, go to him and let him know the Light is here to aid him.  May Pelor light your way."  The High Priest raises his hand in a blessing upon Farian, and then rises.  "If you wish to join our martial exercises at Sunsdown, you are welcome to find a spot in our training yard."

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing

Narthian is in search of those who know things about change, and the closest candidates are those known as the Circle of Change, druids who reside at the Pultain School of Polymorphing.  On the edge of Port Lyalee stands a hefty keep speckled with towers, some of which seem to have been grown from rock clearly not native to the area.  One tower seems to be made of glass blocks, and another is of ice!  The wall around the place is both to keep unruly magic in (as those who live around the area will say) as well as bystanders out.  Keeping young magic-workers from playing tricks is impossible, but apparently those in charge of the school try to keep it to an acceptable minimum.

When Narthian states his business to the Dragons at the Door (a pair of guardswomen with shrewd eyes, scarred in their profession, wearing dragon-scale armor of dull blue), the one on the left nods.  "We can let you in with a temporary pass, but only go where we tell you," she says.  Her fellow slips a small chit of wood from her beltpouch, this one painted bright green, and hands it to Narthian.  "For one, the kids don't always have perfect control of where their spells go, and two... they're kids.  And the Headmaster doesn't like people wandering about hither and thither.  Go straight in to the courtyard, through the archway onto the green, and then there's a tight grove of willows off to the left.  There's your Circle."

Inside the school gates, Narthian sees an large expanse of flagstones for the courtyard, with several arched doorways leading off of it.  Two young men and a young woman in robes quickly pop out of one and skitter up the stairs through another, scroll cases and books their bookstraps banging off of their backs.  A few chickens scratch and peck in the archway, one normal, one a vivid shade of pink, and one with a squirrel tail.  Through the archway an onto the large green, he spies a few more students in robes reclining on the grass, either reading, conversing, or snoozing.  Off to the left is the promised willow grove, their sweeping, drooping branches providing a perfect curtain.

Pushing through it, he finds himself in a cool green haven.  The trees form a wall of green and silver-brown around a circle of moss with a pool at its center.  Two figures are conversing in the low crook of a willow branch.  One is a halfling man in an undyed linen tunic and trousers, barefoot, with an eagle perched above him.  The eagle has the eartufts of an owl, and the halfling has the small antlers of a stag.  The other is a gnome woman with a luxuriant pair of white rabbit ears, and is caressing a badger who sports the long, strong, naked tail of an opossum.

The eagle and the gnome turn to look at Narthian and Thunder first, the gnome smiling broadly.  "A new friend! What change drives you to the Circle?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:51, Mon 27 May 2019.

"Thank you! My name is Narthian Goldleaf, a traveler from the Farsight Conclave far to the north. This is my companion, Thunder." The great gray wolf halts by Narthian's side, his nose extended out to sniff the unfamiliar creatures. "I would say that the change that brought me is that which is soon to occur in a friend of mine. ... At the full moon." Narthian gives the gnome and halfling a knowing look, then takes a breath. "He asked me to find a way to be a wolf brother, without the... side effects... of his condition. I have heard legends, which I do not believe. But Volsh is of my pack, so I hope against hope. Is there any help for him here?"

"We have several elves in our party. I think they will be happy to know the vine's purpose." Farian bows to High Priest Leparion and accepts the blessing. "May Pelor's Light burn bright for all to see! I shall return this evening." Farian bows again and returns to the guild hall to find the halflings discussing the jobs.

"Perhaps we should seek the turtle. Surely we could track it down in a couple hours!" She laughs. "I do not like the sounds of this skeleton, be it undead or construct. It seems the antithesis of the Light. We should find it and discover why it left it's creator. Where is Lantamori? She's our finder of missing things."

Lantamori hands over 3 silver for Cloud's accommodation and heads next door to the Moneychangers' Guild to make a deposit.

Content to pay extra for some finer amenities -- for himself, at least; Mask is a horse, and basic good care should see to her needs just fine. He turns her over to the guildhall's ostlers, then goes back inside to clean the road off of himself. Afterwards, dressed in his good clothes and with Prreet once more settled across his shoulders, he seeks out the guildmaster once more.

"Do you know if there are any of Ehlonna's priests in the area?" he asks her. He wants to learn about the sacred arrows he's carried, and used to such great effect. And it would benefit his companions further if he could acquire more of them.

Even more than that, though, he'd like to offer Ehlonna his personal thanks for the gift of them. She surely intended for him to find Her bow and the arrows, and while he's confident he's used them as they were meant to be used... they were a gift, and one should offer thanks for gifts.

Pultain School of Polymorphing



The gnome with the rabbit ears pauses, ears quivering, then sits down again.  She looks at the halfling, and he purses his lips, thinking.

"I'm Gelty Longfoot, and my colleague is Iffandy Graskle.  My bird is Sharpshin, and her badger is Curly," the halfling says, stroking chin.  His beard grows briefly under his hand so he can tug on it thoughtfully.  "There are legends of such a thing.  It's just... I believe it is possible, but I think I know why it hasn't been often attempted.  The legends of the werewolf are written in blood, as those who fail to control the beast lose themselves to the bloodlust of the hunt. Those who go after them first are usually those who loved them, and they are the first to suffer when the wolf goes after such easy and accessible prey. Those who manage to control the wolf... they must then forevermore defend themselves against those who only know the dangerous werewolf, or else hide what they are and forbid all contact and love. And after years of loneliness? I cannot entirely blame them for seeking out acceptance amongst other of their kind.

"Is it possible for your friend to live in harmony with his wolf? Yes, if he is strong of will and learns the ways of working in concert with the beast inside him. More importantly, he must be surrounded by those who care for him and his decision, else he be an outcast. I think loneliness and exile has created more harmful werebeasts than their internal struggles," Gelty says, his expression very somber.

--

On Guild Street



The Moneychangers' Guild is a very sturdy building, made of stone with a slate roof, subtly decorated with steel and a faint bit of gilt.  While well-carved, it is not overly ostentatious, which is perhaps very wise.  Flaunting wealth can draw too much of the wrong attention.  At the counter at the back, several clerks wait behind protective bars, sliding boxes beneath to transfer money, chits, and goods without anyone being able to directly threaten those handling large quantities of gold.  The clerk free to help Lantamori is a half-elf of middle age, his desk neat as a pin, several fine pens lined up on his side.  When she passes over her gold, he raises his eyebrows in appreciation.  Making careful notation of her money and name, he hands her several chits with her name and the Guild seal on them, in denominations of fifty and twenty-five gold, for easier spending.

"If you have need of a larger purchase, Miss Lantamori, we can give you a chit for that exact amount or have a runner send one to the relevant shop or guild, whichever you prefer," the clerk says politely as he hands them over.

--

Adventurers' Guildhall



Sir Aberlayne nods slightly.  "There is a great deal we could do here.  Jobs are added all the time, so perhaps our fellow guildmembers here," she waves at the others seated, "have already done some. But I agree.  I think Lantamori went to one of the other Guilds, maybe the Moneychangers'?  Or shopping.  But we can ask the Guildmaster where the job contacts are and see what we can learn."



"Shrine Street, at the end, butts up to the Sea Gardens park," the guildmaster says shortly, but nods at him and Prreet in a friendly fashion.  She reaches out a hand, but halts it before touching.  "Does the stone cat like pets?"

"Well, we will not decide on a job today," Farian says to Sir Aberlayne. "Not with so many of the Leafblade Company who knows where at the moment."
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:44, Sat 01 June 2019.

Having concluded her business at the moneychanger's, Lantamori strolled off to find a more fitting bag for her outfit.  The Market Square sounded like a good place to start.

"Thank you," Dante smiles at guildmaster, who seems a bit less fearsome now. "I'll ask him. His name is Prreet."

If Prreet would rather not, he will, politely apologetic, explain that to the guildmaster, as he won't ask his cat to submit to a stranger's touch if he'd rather not. Otherwise, Dante's happy to linger a bit and let Karaja spoil Prreet with some extra attention.

Afterwards, he'll head for the park to seek out Ehlonna's faithful. He'll take the Moonbow and, within his quiver, the sacred arrow with him. He watches for more of the sea elves on the way, being a little fascinated with seeing folk so exotic to what he's grown up around.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:25, Sat 01 June 2019.

Adventurers' Guildhall



"Of course, but there's no harm in asking any general information the Guildmaster might have.  That way we'd be prepared, if you so please.  The turtle, skeleton construct, and mushroom hunter could all be quick jobs we could complete even in teams of three or so.  Basilisk eggs... that might need a more delicate touch.  The orc chieftain, island exploration, and the mimic hunt would take all of us, I think," Sir Aberlayne says, thinking out loud.



Prreet is happy to show off for potential admirers, and oozes down to arch his back, then lounge on the Guildmaster's desk.  Karaja pets down Prreet's smooth back several times, a smile on her face as she scritches his ears.

"Good cat, a very good cat. One with a good soul," Karaja says, giving Prreet one last rub under the chin.

---

Market Square

Lantamori, in the market for a new bag, headed towards the Market Square.  Not quite in the center of down, but definitely more towards the docks to facilitate the amount of cargo being on-and-off-loaded, the Market Square is a large, irregular paved area dotted with several fountains, lined with storefronts and strewn liberally with stalls.  A few small stages on opposite ends allow for entertainers (usually in small groups) to add a little extra color to the shopping experience (as well as gain coin themselves).  On one, three jugglers are performing as they toss balls, batons, and fruit to and fro in a bewildering variety of ways (some apples disappearing in bites as they are being tossed, to the amusement of the crowd).  On another, a trio of musicians on tabor, fiddle, and flute play a bright jig that have a few younger members of the crowd whirling around in enthusiastic dance.

The Market is patrolled by a few members of the Watch, strolling in pairs, eyeing the crowds with a shrewd gaze.  That seems to keep blatant theft away, though Lantamori does spot at least one opportunistic pickpocket lifting some coin from a well-dressed fellow watching the jugglers, and a sticky-fingered urchin slipping an orange out of a fruit vendor's stall while the proprietor is bundling up another customer's order.  Overall, however, the Market seems to be fairly safe.  Some dogs and cats are underfoot, some as strays, some on leashes, and there are many birds perched on rooftops or stall awnings: gulls, parrots, pigeons, and songbirds.  The cross-section of people is even greater here than near the gates, as here you see not just desert-dwellers in their burnooses (from the relatively nearby Unwanted Desert) and aquatic elves and sailors, but also some tanned humans wearing the leather tunics of the famed Crosston horse-breeders, or elves wearing the leaf-cloth of the Black Pine Forest in the southeast.  A few richly-dressed minor nobility are in such fine fashion they only could have come from the capital of Andeluvay, for nowhere else would such exquisite embroidery be worn to a market excursion.  There are even some in the oiled cloth of river traders who ply the flowing fresh waters of Low'verok's interior.

A tour around the Market gives Lantamori a sense of what is available and where.  It seems the Market is divided somewhat sensibly, with beasts for sale on one end, with things needed for beasts next to them.  Then leather goods, fine leather goods, cloth goods both fine and mundane, embroidery, jewelry, makeup and perfume, jumble booths and bargain booths, then foodstuffs and hot food, wine and drinks, writing supplies and scribing services, messengers, guides, Guild booths, small magical items, exotic items and spices, items for hair and grooming, tattooing booths and shops, glassware, pottery, and several other more mundane household items as well.

Between the sellers of fine cloth and fine leather goods Lantamori can find what she seeks, a small leather bag in a pleasant shade of lighter green, a few vines embroidered on in a darker green, the strap sturdy, the bottom double-layered to foil cutpurses, the clasp looped to discourage pickpockets.  The vendor of Lilac's Leathers is a human woman in her thirties with her auburn hair tucked up under a blue scarf, a canvas apron over her brown dress, the pockets filled with small tools as she continued to work on a small beltpouch during Lantamori's browsing.

"Ah, a fine selection, and well-matched to you.  It will carry a morning's shopping with no risk of breaking, and fie to him who thinks to rob you of a single copper!  For that one, the price is three gold, m'lady," she says, standing and smiling at Lantamori.

--

Shrine Street, Ehlonna's Temple, near Sea Gardens Park

After speaking with the Guildmaster, Averdante adjourns to Shrine Street to seek answers about his weapons he's been using for the past several weeks.  Ehlonna is a goddess of forests, and most of her temples and shrines are found in quiet woodland spaces.  But in a crossroads like Port Lyalee, her priests understand that even her faithful just want a quiet place to worship without having to take an extra day of travel each way to get there.  At the end of Shrine Street, the trees of Sea Gardens Park seem to meld into a building whose columns are carved to match the living trees.  Combinations of vines and green cloth create a good illusion of coming into a forest grove, and the musical fall of water from a seemingly natural rocky spring that abuts one side of the "grove".  Moss carpets the floor, and a few squirrels and rabbits even scamper about.  Ehlonna's holy symbol of the unicorn is subtly carved against one wall, highlighted by lighter woods and small living flowers.

A half-elf pale green leaf-cloth gives a smile of welcome to Averdante as he enters.  She hefts up a large rabbit, easily the size of a small dog, to flop against her shoulder like a babe as she walks over to greet him.  Up close she is probably in her sixties, but fit and strong.  Faint scars trail down one side of her neck to disappear into her clothing, and her light brown hair is marked with strands of white.

"Welcome to the Grove of Ehlonna.  What brings you to seek the wisdom of the Lady of the Groves?"

"My pleasure to make you acquaintance!" Narthian watches with wonder at the growing beard, but listening carefully too. "Yes, that makes sense. So there is no spell or ritual that you know of, other then those already commonly known to boost the Will?" It crosses Narthian's mind that he doesn't really know what it is that he was looking for. But it also crosses his mind that unless they want to risk killing Volsh, he may have to find a way to control him.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:11, Sat 01 June 2019.

"This is perfect," Lantamori said, holding the bag up to her dress for comparison.  "I love it."

She readily counted out 3 gold and passed them to the woman with her thanks.

Her most pressing task complete, she doubled back to the small magical items.  She remembered she'd been thinking of getting a magical light of some kind.  Another dark cave was not something she was looking forward to.

Dellas looked over the jobs and than back to his sister "The turtle one sounds exciting, polymorph school. Oh the possibilities. Maybe they know something of a Phoenix. Basilisk Eggs, doesn't that sound neat." Dellas sighed though "Perhaps we should wait until we discuss with the others, besides we have items we must sell and then maybe I can afford a new spell or two" A gleam in his eyes "And some chocolate."

"Ooo! Chocolate!" Farian laughs. "You know, I never said that as man, but often times thought it!" She laughs again. "I'll see what information I can get from the guild master, and see what the others here are thinking of doing."

Farian moves to the table with the 4 people, being conspicuous so as to avoid eavesdropping on their conspiratorial conversation. "Good day, friends! I'm Farian Raymellie, of the Leafblade Company. I hope that I'm not interrupting?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:24, Sun 02 June 2019.

Pultain School of Polymorphing



Gelty considers, running his ever-lengthening beard through his fingers, before Iffandy suddenly sits up straight, ears quivering with excitement.  "I've thought of something.  Aside from a potion of owl's wisdom, or a cloak of resistance, there's not a great deal to boost one's will.  Well... periapt of wisdom, but those are wretchedly expensive.  But if your friend wants to control his form, then you're looking for an item to help him, a sort of secondhand experience, nay?  The only way to get that is through someone who already knows how to do it.  Therefore, we need a magecrafter, and a werebear!"

Gelty brightens at this and turns to Narthian as if that statement made complete sense.  "Werebears actually seem to change for the better, rather than for the worse, and they get control sooner, if that is their goal.  If we have someone who can craft an amulet or something of the sort, and can magically copy the learned skill of a werebear who can control their shape, the amulet could then imbue that experience to your friend, giving him a better chance of control.  So all we need to do a find a friendly werebear!"

----

Adventurers' Guildhall



At the mention of chocolate, Abby's eyes light up.  "Chocolate!  What a wonderful idea; I haven't had any since the last time Uncle Ballin traded for it!"  She coughs and temporarily reigns back her enthusiasm.  "I think I can sell all the various bits and bobs at some of the stores near the Market so we can get the pearls we need to identify the magical items, then divvy up the rest."



Sir Aberlayne winks at Farian.  "Happily, womanhood requires less stoicism in many cases."





The human man with the crow on his shoulder nods in greeting as the other raise their mugs or smile.  "Well met, Sun's Ray Farian.  We are the Iron Key Company, at your service.  I'm Narval Crowbrother, our swordswoman is Isashan Quick, our barefoot companion is Brother Oak, and the lovely gnome is Jig Cressal.

"We just finished clearing out a nest of giant scorpions from near the Unwanted Desert, them and their gnoll friends.  What about you?"

--

Market Square



The proprietor will take the gold with a smile and wrap the bag if Lantamori doesn't want to wear it immediately.  Strolling to the areas of small magical items, Lantamori can see a half-dozen vendors that seem to be related by blood, as their coppery hair and blue eyes, as well as a similarity of nose, seem to speak of them being siblings, or at least cousins.  One has items of comfort (mugs that stay clean, pillows that grant quiet rest, blankets that warm you), one has items of beauty (mirrors that say compliments, makeup that goes on without intervention, perfume that changes scent), one has items of amusement (small toys that laugh or do small movements, plush toys that growl or purr, blocks that will help you build), one has items of light (everburning torches, and their variants in lanterns, glowing rocks, shining diadems, and polished shields that emit light), one has items of domestic use (spoons that stir, fire screens that catch even the strayest ember, pots that don't bubble over), and items of hygiene (small files that will cleanse dirt from your nails or tooth picks that clean your teeth with just a touch).

The light booth sell the everburning torches and their glowing rocks for the same price of 110gp, while the diadems, shields, and lanterns, with their greater artistry, sell for around 150gp.  Everburning "candles" (make of carved wood and copper) are only 55gp, while "elflights" that resemble toadstools sell for 70gp and emit a sort of cool, blue twilight, useful for those who can see in low-light conditions.

As Lantamori browses and the proprietor checks in on her and on others seeking his wares, she notes there are a few sellers who don't have a booth, but just a tray and sometimes a pack.  They wander through the Market Square to try to entice buyers.  As you are looking, you spy a ribbon seller, an orange seller, and a wandering bard with a small monkey on his shoulder who dances to the tunes played on his lute.  A pair of aquatic elves stop the ribbon seller and purchase two lengths of red ribbon, seemingly delighted by the vibrant color.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:47, Sun 02 June 2019.

Dante smiled at the woman and offered a polite dip of his head. "I am Averdante, from the forests near the Greenfire Lake," he introduces himself. "I am looking for information, and would like to make an offering to the Lady." Bringing forth his unstrung bow, he tells her, "Some moons back, in an ancient tomb, I was blessed with finding this bow. With it were half a dozen of these arrows." He plucks the sacred arrow from his quiver so the lady can see it, too.

"The Lady's Moonbow was easily recognizable, of course, but the arrows... I used the first against a small god that was attempting to poach the followers of another, using trickery and deceit. It caused a wound severe enough to send the poacher into retreat, and others in my company were later able to convince it to depart.

"The rest I used quite recently, near Fort Cross, against some shadows summoned, we think, by a mad druid. The arrows screamed as they flew at the shadows, almost as if the entities were offensive to them." Tipping his head to the side, he rubbed Prreet's solid form and added, "My companion Prreet, here, gifted me with the ability to perceive the 'heart' of the shadows, as it were, and the arrows seemed to cause them considerable harm."

Meeting the priestess' eyes, he tells her, "I would like to learn more about these arrows, and find out if more can be made. They have helped to save lives. And for the Lady's guidance in bringing them to my hand, I'd like to offer thanks."

"Well met indeed!" Farian greets each of the Iron Key Company members. "I am glad to hear that the danger from the desert was checked! My own company has just arrived, having protected a caravan from many dangers along the road." She does not go into detail unless asked. "My halfling companions and I were looking over the list of jobs, and as our company is large, we thought that we might split up to handle some of the seemingly smaller jobs. But before we do so, we thought to ask what the other companies were taking up. We do not want to take a job that another team would find worthy!"

Narthian seems intrigued by the turn that the conversation took, applying his own bit of experience to the concept. "And I suppose that it would have to be a were-creature instead of some other shape changer due to the peculiarities of the infliction," he says, half a question. "I can help with some of what we'd need. I believe that one of my companions has learned the secrets of crafting magical items. Do you think that this would be sufficient? Or would we need someone with greater experience or specialize power?"

Lantamori picked up a diadem to admire it's craftsmanship.  It would shine in whatever direction she'd look and leave her hands free to use her bow.

She set the one down and looked over the other diadems to see if any would complement her current outfit.

Shrine Street, Ehlonna's Temple, near Sea Gardens Park



"Ah..." she says with understanding.  She sets down the very large rabbit, who plops at her feet and promptly seems to go to sleep.  "I am Grove-Warden Shallan, and I will answer as best I can."  She takes the bow carefully from Averdante's hands and examines it minutely.  She draws it a few times, seemingly to get a feel for the bow, and nods.  She signals you to wait and goes to one side of the grove to retrieve several scrolls.  Shallan gestures Averdante over to a seemingly incidental table made of a split piece of wood (her rabbit following her and laying down at her feet again) as she spreads the scrolls out.  Most are in Elven, some in a very archaic form of the script called High Elven, while two of them are in an unfamiliar spiky script.  Averdante thinks it's likely Draconic; though he doesn't speak the language, he has seen Haazheel and Dellas studying their spellbooks with similar characters on the pages.  Several of the scrolls bear drawings of what seems to be the Moonbow, one of them being held by a beautiful elf maiden riding upon the back of a unicorn.  Shallan examines one scroll, then another, and finally taps a particular passage.

"It says here that the Moonbow is a relic of the church, something handed down to Ehlonna's faithful as a means of protection against the corruption of the woodlands.  Crafted solely by the light of the moon from the branch of a sacred yew, the string is made from unicorn hair and the stock is reinforced by slivers of unicorn horn donated by those in Ehlonna's sacred herd.  It came with arrows said to be struck from moonbeams and housed within shafts of moon-worked silver, tipped with glass and silver blessed by a kiss from the goddess and fletched with swan feathers.  It excels at fighting those who betray the woodlands, so undead are always foes of the Moonbow, because they stand in violation of nature.  As for the rogue small god, if it had been attempting to usurp a woodland guardian, such as a small god who held sway over that area, it would also have seen the usurper as a violator of the natural order."

Shallan looks at Averdante with respect, and briefly rubs Prreet's cool, smooth ears, seemingly to his delight.

"If the the Moonbow came to you from a tomb, it was meant for you.  It desired to do good again in the world, and chose you to wield Ehlonna's chosen weapon against Her enemies.  It says here that the bow is more accurate than others of its kind, its strikes always more powerful, but with the sacred arrows it becomes a bane to those who violate the natural order.  The arrows can be made," she reassures him.  "The legend is perhaps a bit more poetic, but the commentary here from the scribe who copied it notes that more arrows can be made from beaten silver, swan feathers, and glass, as long as they are crafted by moonlight, and blessed by a Grove Guardian in one of Ehlonna's sacred spaces for a night.  They are more costly to make than normal arrows, to be certain, and if not fired at the right targets will harm them no more than a hollow arrow with a glass tip would do normally, which is to say, none."  She returns to the text and reads a little more, her eyebrows going up.

"Ah!  Not unexpected, but interesting and useful.  As the Moonbow contains donated bits of unicorn horn, its touch can neutralize poison!  And under moonlight it can generate a warding effect against evil creatures that extends around it for a few armspans.


"The Grove is always welcome to those who wish to pray and contemplate Ehlonna, and you have been given a great gift by Her.  Please, spend what time you wish amongst Her creatures to give thanks," Shallan says.

--

Adventurers' Guildhall



It is Jig Cressel, the gnome in rose-colored leathers with keys braided into her hair, who answers.  Her voice is incongruously deep compared with her small frame.  "Ah, we were going to talk to Mad Morrie about exploring the island.  Oak's always wanted to find his own island, his brother-in-law is a sea elf, you know, so we could have a lovely place to retire to someday.  Not everyone is experienced in sea travel, and we've done a half-dozen jobs involving ships, so that seems the best fit for us," she says cheerfully.  Brother Oak shrugs self-depricatingly when Jig talk about him, and pulls out a small wooden square with a picture of an elf maiden side-by-side with a blue-skinned elf man: a wedding portrait, it seems.

"Anything you saw on your trip that's coming south?" Isashan, the swordswoman asks.  "Things roll downhill, you know."

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing



Gelty nods.  "If your mage can enchant magical objects, rather than just weapons or armor, then yes, that will likely do nicely.  The spell to give someone a boost to a skill isn't terribly complex, it's just somewhat obscure.  Likely someone influential thought it was cheating and got it enshrined into law some centuries ago, and now everyone's forgotten the spell, the law, and the influential stick-in-the-mud, so not many have knowledge of it."  He gives a shrug about the folly of unbending pride.  "The important part is finding the werebear, and then convincing them to help us, because they'll have to stay for the whole creation, which will be nearly a week.  It'd be some..."

He trails off, seemingly to mentally calculate something, and Iffandy picks up the thread of the narrative, "Nearly five thousand for materials for the ritual to enchant, not including the amulet or whatever itself, plus purchasing a scroll of the right spell, or paying to learn and scribe it.  Call it nearly six, once one gets done with polite gifts for all the various parties involved."

Gelty nods again, and continues.  "Now, the werebear.  I don't know where one is, but I bet you I know who does - the Grove Guardian of Ehlonna's Church down on Shrine Street.  If there's one anywhere near here, she'll know about it."

--

Market Square



This being a booth of practical items of the less-elaborate sort, there are no diadems made of gold.  But there are a few with silver filigree, and many others of wire and wood with colorful beadwork.  Using the natural bounty available from the sea, there are ones with pieces of coral, various shells with sinuous shapes or colorful insides, delicate fish bones or multi-colored fish scales, along with stone and glass beads in a myriad of hues.  With a bit of sorting, Lantamori can find one made of wire with various colors of green beads, a few polished dark seeds, centered with a piece of luminous green sea glass and a couple small spiral shells.  It's a nice compliment to her outfit, and will easily illuminate her surroundings.

As Lantamori is considering her purchase, she notes several of the sea elves as well as some of the beggars and urchin children are occasionally leaving some small offerings (usually a flower, a pebble, a few pins, a bit of a candle or wooden carving) at a tiny shrine seemingly squeezed between two stalls on the edge of the Market.  The shrine is made from coral and cobblestones, centered around a bright blue turtle the size of two elf fists put together.  Out of the corner of her eye, Lantamori can see the turtle move, occasionally nodding to those who drop an offering by its shrine.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:06, Fri 07 June 2019.

Lantamori purchased the sea glass diadem with chits from the moneychangers and thanked the booth owner for their beautiful work.  She carefully put it into her new bag and wandered over to observe the odd turtle shrine.

"What a lovely portrait! Is it your own work, or was it commissioned?"

Farian gives the warrior's question some thought. "By the graces of Pelor I should hope not! We've dealt with what evil we've found, and helped keep with peace with the Trolls living near Fort Cross. If there is any danger from that direction, it will be new to me!"

Narthian weighs the information against his planned visits to the Greenwood Kin and the Sea Witches. He thinks it almost as likely that the Greenwood Kin would know of a werebear as would the priestess of Ehlonna. But the priestess was much closer. He barely registers the comments on the cost, but notes it to pass on to Volsh. "You have been very helpful, and I thank you for the information. Is there anything that I can do for you in return?"

"Yes" Dellas exclaims excitedly as he turns towards the door and looks back towards his sister "Well are you coming? We have a market to explore, items to sell, and chocolate and other food to find."

Bruenor slowly takes a walk around the shop, admiring the racks of weapons.  Like some folk enjoyed the sight of fancy, new clothes, or fresh baked sweetbreads; he could admire well-maintained, clean, sharp weapons... the craftmanship (when done masterfully) was something to behold.  You could always tell the difference between a well-crafted weapon and an average one...all it took was to lift it and swing it around once or twice.  The balance, the heft...it all had to be right.

He puts a hand on the hilt of the Prince's intricately jeweled longsword, recalling his pleasure at being gifted such a treasure...but his curiosity gets the better of him, and as soon as the proprietor is free, he enquires about the special weapons in cases.

"Greetings, sir.  What can you tell me of these exceptional weapons?"...his arm sweeping across the cases.  "They all seem quite unusual...in the best way," he adds.

Adventurers' Guildhall



Brother Oak shakes his head at Farian's question.  "Not by my own hand, but a cousin with great talent.  My own talents lie in finger-woven belts and straps, for at least that is portable with all the traveling we do!  But I am glad to hear that the trolls are behaving.  That treaty has held this long, and we pray it holds longer.  I would not like to see a repetition of the Troll Wars."

Across the way, the older elf woman who had been reading some parchment scrolls shuddered at the very notion.

--

Market Square



"Coming, coming!  I know better than to get between you and chocolate.  Or myself and chocolate for that matter!" Abby says with a grin.  In short order the two halflings are gadding through the Market, Valiant temporarily acting as a packhorse for their loot that needed to be sold.  Dellas can take a look at the wide variety of goods for sale as Aberlayne heads to the various shops to drive a goodly bargain for their wares.    Dellas is seeking out his favorite treat, and finally finds it amongst the stalls of the exotic spice sellers.  There is a gnome merchant with a beautiful ring-tailed lemur beside him, holding court over a small booth that is lined with tins of powdered drinking chocolate, small chocolate-covered candies and nuts, candied spices, sugared almonds and spiced nuts, squares of something pink covered with a faint sugar powder, and a small bubbling cauldron of thick drinking chocolate which he is dispensing to a couple of half-elves. One takes a cautious sip, and her eyes widen in delight.  She hands over some silver without bargaining, drinking the sweet confection with a happy expression.

The old gnome, with skin the color of his wares, his head wrapped up in a combination of colorful scarves and small golden chains, smiles at Dellas with teeth like pearls as he spies him.

"Welcome to Calbador's Confections! How may I delight your palate today?  Rose Delight, from the Unwanted Desert?  Spiced nuts, from the Southern Isles?  Chocolate, the rarest confection, imported from the distant West?"

Aberlayne goes from booth to booth, shop to shop to try to find the appropriate buyers for the various goods.  She's able to find a buyer of unusual swords, a clothing merchant with an eye for good dye, a silversmith looking for some display pieces, a jeweler who needs some particular stones, and a weaponsmith who needs some scabbards for his wares.  When all is said and done, her close-kept moneybelt is flush with chits for the Moneychangers' Guild.  Her compatriots should be pleasantly surprised indeed!  She finds Dellas eventually, up to his nose in something sweet.

Well, at least nothing was on fire.



The proprietor gives Lantamori a bow at her purchase.  "An excellent selection, and may it serve you well in home or at business!"

Going to the turtle shrine, Lantamori sees the turtle turn towards her and nod to her.  She can see words carved into the shrine with an expert hand, Ishval, Small God of Small Bargains

Ishval regards Lantamori curiously, as if wondering what small bargain she was making today.

--

The Lucky Blade, Metal Street



Once the man is done selling a brace of daggers to the young woman, he goes to attend to Bruenor, smiling when he hears his inquiry.

"Sampian Luc, at your service, and indeed you have excellent taste.  These are all enchanted weapons, some to a greater degree, some to a lesser, some to a stranger.

The blue longsword is a Phase Blade - made for hunting werebeasts, it is silver though it doesn't look it, and gains extra power during the full moon.  During the new moon it is but a blade of minor power, but under the full one is is fury to those who walk the night.

The dagger is made from the tooth of a giant shark, and though only lightly enchanted, does allow one to command the respect of sharks.  I expect that to go to a sea-fairing adventurer one day.

The obsidian double-axe was born in the fires of a volcano, and erupts in flame when wielded in battle. Someone took it as a prize off of an orc chieftain, and it's powerful, but one needs special training to use it to its full potential.

The white shortsword is a mage-bane blade, called Whisper.  Made for hunting rogue sorcerers during the Bloodfire Wars, though you have to sacrifice magic to it when it can't get its blade into a bad mage.

The feathered bastard sword is Flight - lets you jump like the earth can't hold you and strike from above like an eagle, though only a few times a day.

The longbow with the purple leather is the Winebow - its arrows don't strike to kill, but rather make the victims falling-down drunk." Sampian smirks at this.  "Was a weapon of humiliation made by a magesmith whose lord had a strange sense of humor.  He made the other bow too, the yellow one.  Its arrow release a slickness, like a wizard's grease spell.  Like..." he sighs, "a banana.  It also conjures bananas, a bunch of them once a day.  I... don't know why.

"The rapier, though, that one is called Sundog - it captures the sun's rays and turns them into flashes of powerful light to daze its enemies before striking.  Leave it in the dark too long and it loses its magic.  So!  Do any of these beauties strike your fancy?"

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing



Geffy lights up at the question.  "Are you guys going after the mimic job at your Guildhall?  We could use some mimic bits, or a whole mimic, if you can convince it come back with you!"

Squatting down to observe the small turtle more closely, Lantamori asked, "You wouldn't happen to know where a turtle named Hubert happens to be, would you?"

It was presumptuous to believe that all turtles knew one another, but it was better odds than asking any of the vendors.  A Small God in the guise of a turtle may have an affinity for others of its form.

"I'd be willing to bargain for information," she added hopefully.

"I'm afraid that I don't know," Narthian tells Geffy. "I must admit that I barely looked at the job board before coming here. I will try to convince them, though." Narthian thanks them and takes his leave. He and Thunder carefully retrace their steps to the street, than head towards the temple of Ehlonna.

Dellas's nose lead him away from Abby as they enter the large Market. He quickly ducked underneath a wagon being pulled by a mule and made his way towards the food. Stopping at each stall he would make a quick purchase of something small until he came upon what he was looking for. The plethora of chocolate before him, only gave way to a giant grin as he began picking out each item he wanted to try. By the time he was done he had his hands full, chocolate smeared his face and a mug of warm chocolate sat next to him at the edge of the booth as he enjoyed each piece "Oh I really like this one, the nuts create a nice salty after thought to the sweet chocolate."

Market Square



Ishval looks thoughtful as Lantamori speaks, but she she mentions bargaining for information, he looks much more animated.  He walks down off of the shrine and looks up at her face.  "What little thing would you give me for what little knowledge I have?" he asks, his voice small and oddly gravely.



Dellas can pick up a small woven belt, a woven straw hat to keep off sun or rain, a little carry pouch for Vish, and a nice pair of sandals for the warmer weather of the coast or desert.   As he collects a little bit of everything from Calbador's Confections, the gnome looks delighted. A quick bargaining for price, and Dellas can hand over two gold for the costly, imported collection of confections, but they are worth every copper, as they taste magnificent.

"It is a lovely contrast!  Twas Juno who gave me the idea by knocking his snack of nuts into a pot of melted chocolate, and I thought, 'Well, I might as well try it' and here we are with a new sensation!  I also have here a new type I am trying," he says, and brings up a second pot of drinking chocolate he had been keeping warm on some kind of apparatus below your line of sight.  "This one is sweet chocolate infused with fiery chilies, also from the far West.  A most exciting concoction, but not one for every palate.  Care to give it a try?" he says, pouring a tiny tasting cup for Dellas.

--



"Ah, well, we had heard Giffly's End was having mimic problems and had put up an advertisement for adventurers.  Mimics are smart as a person, but... often very, very hungry and not picky about their source of meat.  I have," he coughs, "no combat experience whatsoever, and neither does Iffandy. We would be very interested in what is going on, but I do not desire to be eaten in the quest for research. You would need a powerful enchantment to forcibly calm a mimic, a school of which I have zero talent for, or a great talent at diplomacy, which is also not my forte.  I could tell you much about what I have learned in books, but probably not before I got eaten."  Gelty gives a self-depricating shrug.

Once done with the Circle of Change, Narthian can head towards Shrine Street, and the Church of Ehlonna, abutting Sea Gardens park.    Entering the cool green of half-living grove, Narthian can spy Averdante and an older half-elf woman at a table, examining several scrolls.  A plush-looking rabbit the size of a small dog is seemingly asleep at the woman's feet.  Prreet is sitting on Averdante's shoulders, washing a paw.

"Would you like a bit of colorful ribbon?" Lantamori proposed to the small god, recalling the pretty ribbons she'd seen being sold.  "I could fetch it right now if you'd like."

"Oh yes I would love to give it a try. What kind of chilies are you using again? I have a friend who so enjoys hot peppers" Dellas says excitedly as he quickly counts out the gold for the gnome and then pushes up his sleeve a bit to show the dragon curled around his wrist. Drawing a hot pepper from a pouch at his side he offers it to the small wyrmling who sniffs it and snatches it from his hand, consuming it rapidly.

"May Pelor's Light guide you on your adventures, Iron Key Company! May the dawn always bring hope and renewal!" Farian takes her leave of them and moves towards the plump human man in fine crimson linen. "Greetings friend! From the looks of your finery you have been a guild member for some time! I am Farian Raymellie of the Leafblade Company."

Narthian and Thunder pad over towards Averdante and the woman. Thunder spies a squirrel and chases it into a tree before Narthian calls him back. He catches enough of the conversation to realize that Averdante's visit is about up. He waits for them to finish rather then interrupt.

Market Square



Ishvar's smile gets wider, and he nods.  Lantamori can obtain ribbon for five copper a half-yard from the ribbon seller easily.  When she comes back with her offering, he nudges it until it curls around him to his satisfaction, then looks up at her, curving his neck to invite her to come closer.  "Hubert is in love with a lady of the sea, and so went to the Sea Lady to woo her," he says, and settles down into his ribbons with a small sigh of contentment. 



Calbador says, "I call them passion peppers, for that's the best translation I have from the people whom I trade with them for... and that is a most delightful little creation you have there!  Where in the world did you get him and what does he do?"

---

Adventurers' Guildhall



The man in scarlet looks up from his scroll at Farian's greeting, and set down his wine, quickly dabbing at his lips with a napkin before smiling and answering.  "Well met to you, Farian Raymellie.  I am Jurious Scarlet of the Starspoke Questers.  Aye, I've been a member for a few decades now, but wizardly talent is always in high demand, and my compatriots are dedicated to the thrill.  I see you serve the Healing Sun," he makes a gesture of a sun's ray, "Another type always in demand.  What are you seeking, Farian?  A friendly round of gossip?"

---

Church of Ehlonna, Shrine Street



As Narthian waits, a sea elf emerges from the pool and sits on the edge, taking a moment to wring out her hair.  She wears what seems to be kelp, shells, and fish skins, things that sheet away water easily.  A plump blop of a creature with gray fur, flippers and a tail, with a pointed snout, plops out of the water near her and basks on the edge.  When she turns towards Narthian, he sees she's wearing a holy symbol of Ehlonna, though in her case the typical unicorn symbol has a fish's tail instead of hind legs.

"Oh!" she says, startled.  "My apologies, I didn't realize anyone was here.  I'm Grotto-Tender Luvan; what are you both seeking from the Lady?"

"A bit of useful gossip is always welcome, of course. But i am currently more interested in ensuring that my company doesn't step on fellow guild member's toes." She smiles warmly. "You see, we have 8 persons in the Leafblade, which is plenty to handle several of the smaller jobs before we take on one of the larger. So I'm checking to see which jobs the others are favoring."

"[Language unknown: St thinof o stasomoreand, Encpronde, astce o timiilur! U o Enuracut  Weioouss, hael heral p Arestirea.]" Narthian says, slipping into his native tongue. "I cannot speak for my friend Averdante, but I have an unusual request. ... I am seeking a werebear."

Recalling having seen the Sea Lady mentioned somewhere before, Lantamori knew she had a good lead.  Thanking the Small God for her bargain, the elf headed back to the Guild to look into the details of the turtle chase.

Adventurers' Guildhall



Jurious strokes his chin, rings flashing in the light. "A private one, I'm afraid to say, so I can't say much more about it.  I've been in the Guild a long time, so those who know my reputation sometimes ask for me by name," he says, giving a small shrug and a smile.  "So the field is clear from my end!  I expect you're going to ask Elfaria Rune next?"  He nods at the venerable elf.  "She's the one hiring me!"  Jurious chortles, amused at his little joke. "The new crop of jobs went up early this morning, so most haven't seen them yet.  You've come at a good time."



Ishvar seems pleased for the attention, and Lantamori heads back to the Adventurers' Guildhall.  Farian is there speaking to the plump man in scarlet.  Heading to the Guildmaster's desk, she can ask Guildmaster Karaja about the missing turtle.  She adjusts her glasses and examines a sheaf of papers until she finds the one she wants.

"Missing four days, large snapping turtle, over two-foot long with red and black spots like a ladybug, mildly intelligent from being exposed to so much magic. Contact is Headmaster Oroti, but note is here that the payment will be in a permanent magical effect. Interested?" she asks.

--

Ehlonna's Temple, Shrine Street



Luvan smiles at the greeting, but it freezes on her face when Narthian makes his request. ""

"Yes," Lantamori replied to the Guildmaster that she was interested in the turtle quest.  "How may I find this Headmaster Oroti?"

She saw the human cleric, still female it seemed, and debated whether she should wait for one of the more competent members to accompany her.

Feeling a growing sense of wonder as the Grove-Warden searched through the scrolls, Dante started to think that perhaps his bow was something even greater than he'd already believed it to be. The illustrations seem to match his bow -- as if it were a singular, specific item. One with a great history behind it, as well. Studying the illustration of the maiden on the unicorn closely, he could see that the bow she carried looked to be the same one he had.

When Shallan calmly declares the Moonbow to be a sacred relic, awe touches him, holding him silent as she describes some of its making, and of the arrows made to carry the goddess' judgment to those who would harm Her domain. He wasn't a priest or druid; to be granted use of such an ancient, sacred item is a wholly unexpected honor, a blessing unlooked for, it leaves him almost overcome with wonder and gratitude.

"A very great gift," he agrees reverently with the priestess, picking up the bow with new respect. Looking up again, he sees Narthian and his wolf have arrived, and nods absently to him, still wrapped up in what the Grove-Warden has said. "The silver and glass arrows... are they something I could learn to make? Or something that would need to be made by one of the Lady's priestesses, if I supplied them with the necessary elements?"

Once he's sure he understands about the arrows, Dante bows to Grove-Warden Shallan. "Thank you for shedding light on the gift Ehlonna has made to me. Now that I better understand its purpose, I can better use it to fulfill the Lady's will -- and I truly know what I need to thank Her for. I will go do so now."

Dante's still a bit overwhelmed by the having such a holy item entrusted to his care. Leaving Shallan, he wanders quietly through the grove for a bit, until he finds a spot in the shade of a tree that seems right.

Sitting down, the Moonbow resting upon his thighs, he closes his eyes and spends the remainder of the afternoon praying, acknowledging the trust placed in him, and committing himself to do his best to honor it.

Narthian smiles. "I have heard that they could be secretive. I thank you for the information." He offers a few gold coins. "For your garden. May it flourish and be an inspiration of nature's wonders for all to see!"

Narthian and Thunder return to the guildhall looking for Volsh.

Church of Ehlonna, Shrine Street



"If you have the skills of a fletcher, and some knowledge of metal and glass crafting, then yes, the physical making of the arrows is within the grasp of a craftsman even if you have no magic yourself.  A priestess would be needed to bless them when you were through, provided you had made in moonlight and prayed over them while you worked," Shallan explains.  "I believe this bow came to you for a reason, that you were chosen by Ehlonna to aid her children."

When Averdante indicates his wish to pray, she will leave him to his contemplation.  Prreet goes to explore, finally finding a spot on some springy grasses in a sunlight for him to snooze, while Averdante can find a peaceful niche near a sturdy tree that seems correct for the weighty matters he wishes to consider, and the thanks he wishes to give to the Lady of the Groves.



Luvan takes the coins with gratitude.  "Be well and be safe.  May the Lady of the Woodlands watch over you," she says, raising her hand in a blessing.

Adventurers' Guildhall



Guildmaster Karaja says, "Pultain School of Polymorphing, edge of the city, Sand Street.  One of the Door Dragons on duty should be Elshi; tell her I sent you and she'll see when the Headmaster is free.  Your druid went there earlier.  Might still be there."

She looks up, and grins, her tusks flashing.  "Never mind, here he is now."  Sure enough, Narthian is coming back in, Thunder padding at his side.

"Excellent," she said to the Guidlmaster, turning to see the elven druid.  "Thank you for your time."

She strode over to accost Narthian with her quest.  "I have a lead on the lost turtle and accepted the job.  It shouldn't take too long for the three of us to track down a turtle

"Would you and Thunder like to join me?"

Narthian takes a quick look for Volsh, and not seeing him, Narthian nods to Lantamori. "Yes. If we pass the temple of Ehlonna, we'll find Averdante there. Or maybe on his way back here." He looks to Farian. "Farian, are you joining us as well?"

Farian thanks Jurious, then greets Lantamori, Narthian, and Thunder. "I'm afraid not. I have already made a commitment to return to Pelor's Temple for martial training.I have been checking around, and it seems that we have our pick of jobs, so I wish you luck! If you need me, I'll be at the temple, then back here."

Farian will check with Elfaria Rune as well, to be thorough, but fully expects her response to be similar to the others.

"We're off then," Lantamori said to Narthian, glad Farian had other plans.  "Our first stop is to see the Headmaster of the Pultain School of Polymorphing.

"We're just after a smart turtle.  I don't think we need more than just the three of us.  There are plenty of jobs to go around if anyone's looking to do something while we're in town."

"I know where that is. In fact, I was there earlier today." Narthian takes a deep breath. "You see, Volsh has it in his head that he can control his lycanthropy. The school is home to a group known as the Circle of Change." Narthian relates his meeting with Gelty Longfoot, Iffandy Graskle and their familiars Sharpshin and Curly, and their advice to find a werebear in order to craft a magical aid for Volsh.


FYI... One is a halfling man (Gelty) in an undyed linen tunic and trousers, barefoot, with an eagle (Sharpshin) perched above him.  The eagle has the eartufts of an owl, and the halfling has the small antlers of a stag.  The other is a gnome woman (Iffandy) with a luxuriant pair of white rabbit ears, and is caressing a badger (Curly) who sports the long, strong, naked tail of an opossum.

"Is it safe for him to try this?" Lantamori asked as they made their way to the school.  She wasn't sure traveling with a real werewolf was a good idea.  The human wasn't known for his self control.

"Wouldn't it be better just to find a cure?"

"It is possible," Narthian tells Lantamori with a frown. "But it is also very difficult. Every bit as difficult as convincing Volsh that it is a bad idea. Our best chance to help him is to harness the control of another lycan - one that isn't beholden to the blood lust." He spins the shaft of his silver tipped spear in his hands. "The worst is that if he fails, we will have to destroy him."

"Remind me to collect up some silver arrows," she said with a nod.

Dellas beamed with pride as he showed the creature off to the shopkeeper "A Kobold's lair, near Fen-on-the-Fen. It was an exciting, the Kobold's were raiding the city and other areas in service to their god and we were hired to protect them. I got to show the kobolds my fire magic's and this was within their lair. It is most delightful. I am curious if he would like your passion peppers, may I buy a few off you or you can direct me to your supplier and I can buy some from them."

Adventuerers' Guildhall



Elfaria looks up at Farian as she approaches, and raises an eyebrow.  She sets down a small weight on the scroll she was studying so it doesn't roll up.  When Farian asks about the jobs, she shakes her head, then gives Farian a penetrating glance.  "I am just waiting for Jurious to finish his business before he attends to mine.  Take what jobs you wish.  Though is one of them to free yourself of your curse?  I recognize the aura on your belt, and your clothes are not quite the right size for you anymore," she says in explanation.

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing

Narthian and Lantamori can head to the school, finding it as Narthian found it, a peculiar construction behind walls, with random towers of all kinds of substances (including one made of ice).  The two Door Dragons recognize Narthian, and after Lantamori gives Elshi Karaja's greeting and explanation, the woman in her blue dragon armor nods and gives a bit of a sigh.

"Wait a moment, then," she says, and goes just inside the gatehouse to seemingly pull on what could be a bell rope, though no sounds is heard.  A few moments later she comes out, and right on her heels is a young human woman in blue robes spattered with a dozen different colors.  "Apprentice Dershana will conduct you to Headmaster Oroti," she says, and the girl bows quickly.

"If you'll come with me, Guildsbeings," she says, and quickly walks inside.  Through the gatehouse, into the entryway, and up a set of stairs that wind back and forth, she trots on tirelessly.  The hallway and stairs are marked with bricks of many different colors and substances, as if the students have tried their magic on the very walls of the schools themselves.  Up a final stairway of delicate-seeming wrought iron, she brings you to an iron door, knocks on it, and whispers her business to whatever opens a small slit about halfway down the door.  The slit slams shut, and the door opens without a groan or a squeak.  In the doorway is a small manniken of clay and wood, with a face carved like a chicken, perhaps two and a half feet high.  It bows to you and waves you in.

Inside the Headmaster's office it is draped with a dozen different fabrics in many wondrous, shifting colors.  Low tables are covered with small lamps of many different substances and hues, all glowing, and as well as at least five cats in various lounging poses.  Tuffets of plush fabric seem to be all there is to sit on, as the only other furniture is the large desk, made of carved blue wood, behind which sits a gnome of advanced age.  Garbed in robes of shining white that matches her moon-white hair, the Headmaster smiles at both of you and waves for the manniken to fetch a tea service, which it offers to you.

"Well then, it is good to see someone interested in finding our Hubert.  Who are you, and what are you needing to know about this job?" she asks, her voice very melodious

--

Market Square



"A kobold's lair?  Most interesting!  Some of them do have excellent command of magic, not many, but when they do the results are often quite interesting.  Well then, I will sell you the peppers myself, for three gold apiece.  Tell me, did you find any other magic in that place?  I know they favor fire magic, and wondered if they had any other spells written down or ensorcelled into amulets or potions," Calbador asks.

Dellas almost jumps at the opportunity to buy a few more peppers "I'll take 10 of them" he remarks excitedly "I know a few spells about fire. Nothing I could sell out right to you. But we can come to an arrangement for me to perhaps teach you some and show you my books."


OOC: Hands over 30 gold.

"My name is Lantamori and this is Narthian," the elf complied with the Headmaster's request.  "We're members of the Leafblade Company.

"We know Hubert is a snapping turtle, but is he aggressive?  And is there anything we could use to coax him to come with us when we find him?"

Farian lets out a joyous laugh. "Curse? Nay, it is Pelor's Blessing! As a man, I've understood physical strength and the destruction of evil. As a woman, I'm discovering the strength of a kind word, a smile, and the wonders of creation!" She gives a awkward look. "Although not first hand, so to speak, creation wise. But I think that you take my meaning. I thank you for your time, and good luck with Jurious and your task!"

Farian takes her leave and makes her way back to the temple for the martial training.

Narthian busies himself keeping Thunder from disturbing the cats. But not before the large wolf's nose pokes a tabby's face. "[Language unknown: Ni, astus ri moad. T waalek p eeon oul chelek, alekur an sath e haec. Our hertedvor som a inst setintast!]" he whispers in Thunder's ear. He nods a greeting to the gnome and accepts a cup of tea from the automaton. He wonders if he'll ever get used to the oddness of this school. When given the chance, he adds his own question. "Is there a keeper for Hubert? Someone who knows the turtle better than any other?"

Bruenor gave an amused half smile, nodded at the shopkeeper of the Lucky Blade.
"Each is exceptional, and I'd love to try out all of them, to be honest.  Even the 'Banana Bow' sounds like it would really liven up a scuffle, I suspect.   But none are overwhelmingly better than the blade I wield now.  Though I'll certainly tell my Traveling Companions about them.  I know a couple who could make good use of them.   Thank you for your time, sir"

The truth, of course, was that Bruenor didn't really have the funds for another magical weapon, especially one of the quality of these strange artifacts.  Perhaps the strange nature of some of them might illicit a discount, but the duelist was about as good at haggling as a fishmonger's wife was about negotiating trade deals with kings.
So, he left the shop, though he kept the weapons in mind, like a child cataloguing a list of favorite toys before a birthday.  He briefly fantasized about wielding each one in battle, but knew he was probably being greedy.

He wandered into the town, looking for more excitement.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Fri 21 June 2019.

Market Square



Calbador puts the peppers in a small wooden box and hands them to Dellas.  "If you have a spell I don't know, I would certainly like to learn it!  If you'll be in town for a few days, perhaps we can compare our books and see if there's something we'd like from each other.  Where are you staying at?"

--



Elfaria nods in response to Farian's explanation, looking mildly amused as Farian goes on her way.  Back at the Temple of Light, Farian can join the other priests, paladins, clerics, and acolytes in the temple courtyard.  After stretching and exercises, they are separated into groups depending on their skill level.  Acolytes and priests are being trained with the club and staff, as they will usually be in temples without any need to rove or defend the faith with arms.  Paladins and clerics are taken to the side of the yard with pells, dummies, and sparring circles to be paired off with each other.  The dummies, perhaps not surprisingly, sport paint that makes them look like ghouls, zombies, or skeletons.

As Farian is more skilled than most, she finds herself eventually matched with a human paladin, a man with dark skin with a small scar across the bridge of his nose, who favors a heavy flail as his weapon of choice.  His name is Sir Kovi, and the two of them can spar for several rounds, trading blows and dodging, taking some hits with the blunted weapons against their padded armor, but neither strongly prevailing.  Then the final bells ring, Sir Kovi salutes you with his flail and accepts water from an acolyte, while another offers you the same.

"A fair fight, Sister Farian!  I haven't found a match like you in a while.  What brings you to Port Lyalee?" he asks.

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing



Headmaster Oroti shakes her head at the first question.  "Heavens no, Hubert isn't aggressive.  He's a sweetheart.  He favors fresh fish and fresh fruit, though he wouldn't say no to someone reading him a new book of poetry," she explains.



"I know Hubert fairly well, but the one who's been most responsible for his day-to-day care has been the Introduction to Magical Modification class, specifically Professor Ishani.  He says Hubert has been morose ever since they took their field trip to the tidal pools, but Hubert refused to say why.  The class kept trying to cheer him up, but he didn't seem quiet as chipper.  Ishani has been scouring the shingle and speaking with the sea druids for several days, but hasn't sent back word that he's found Hubert yet, which is why I posted for more diverse help.  Unfortunately all the spells that have been placed on Hubert over the years make finding him by magical means very, very tricky."

"Thank you! Pelor's Light has led me to companions that keep me sharp," Farian replies with a small bow. "Without them, our match would have been less challenging. I suppose you could say that the Adventurer's Guild brings me here. We hired on with a caravan, and lucky that we did! Along the way we met those in need of Pelor's help with vampire spawn, werewolves, and a rogue druid!" She provides Sir Kovi with any details he asks regarding the encounters. "So how about you, Sir Kovi? How do you come to be in the temple tonight?"

Looking to get a taste of civilization after days on the road, and perhaps some conversation and perhaps even a good card game. Bruenor headed back to to Guild Hall.
He was feeling an odd combination of laziness and restlessness, and needed....something

Bruenor, after leaving the Lucky Blade and heading back around town, you pass through the Market Square.  Not quite in the center of down, but definitely more towards the docks to facilitate the amount of cargo being on-and-off-loaded, the Market Square is a large, irregular paved area dotted with several fountains, lined with storefronts and strewn liberally with stalls.  A few small stages on opposite ends allow for entertainers (usually in small groups) to add a little extra color to the shopping experience (as well as gain coin themselves).  On one, a storyteller with a few props keeps an audience of mostly children enthralled, one another a flautist and someone with a lap-harp play beautiful music as people toss coins into their hat, and on a third has three contortionists taking all sorts of unusual poses to the sounds of a drum player.

The Market is patrolled by a few members of the Watch, strolling in pairs, eyeing the crowds with a shrewd gaze.  That seems to keep blatant theft away, though likely a more skill thief could still make a living.  Overall, however, the Market seems to be fairly safe.  Some dogs and cats are underfoot, some as strays, some on leashes, and there are many birds perched on rooftops or stall awnings: gulls, parrots, pigeons, and songbirds.  A few people have more unusual pets, such as a monkey perched on someone's shoulder, a small crocodile on a leash.  The cross-section of people is even greater here than near the gates, as here you see not just desert-dwellers in their burnooses (from the relatively nearby Unwanted Desert) and aquatic elves and sailors, but also some tanned humans wearing the leather tunics of the famed Crosston horse-breeders, or elves wearing the leaf-cloth of the Black Pine Forest in the southeast.  A few richly-dressed minor nobility are in such fine fashion they only could have come from the capital of Andeluvay, for nowhere else would such exquisite embroidery be worn to a market excursion.  There are even some in the oiled cloth of river traders who ply the flowing fresh waters of Low'verok's interior.

A tour around the Market gives Bruenor a sense of what is available and where.  It seems the Market is divided somewhat sensibly, with beasts for sale on one end, with things needed for beasts next to them.  Then leather goods, fine leather goods, cloth goods both fine and mundane, embroidery, jewelry, makeup and perfume, jumble booths and bargain booths, then foodstuffs and hot food, wine and drinks, writing supplies and scribing services, messengers, guides, Guild booths, small magical items, exotic items and spices, items for hair and grooming, tattooing booths and shops, glassware, pottery, and several other more mundane household items as well.

Perhaps more of interest is that off of Market Square stretches Inn Street, which caters to the wide range of travelers that pass through the city.  There are taverns that promise a rowdy good time, like the Pickled Eel (which seems to have several half-orc patrons and advertises wrestling inside) and the Roaring Wave (which seems to be popular with sailors and emphasizes its arm-wrestling and strong ale).  The Pig and Potion has a savory smell of roast pork coming from it and seems to be bustling, while the Silver Egg seems fancier and has people dressed quite finely... but also carrying good weapons, openly, one and all.  The Cheerful Goblet seems to be decorated with a bit of illusion magic to make the sign out front shine, and seems to have several young men and women in robes going in and out.  Lovely music spills out of the Golden Lark, while the Twisted Bow seems to have dueling fiddle jigs going on inside.

"To clarify the job," Lantamori said, satisfied so far with the Headmaster's replies, "what if we locate Hubert and he does not wish to return?

"Would bringing Professor Ishani to Hubert suffice in fulfilling our contract?"

Church of Pelor, Shrine Street



Sir Kovi listens attentively to Farian's account, and looks impressed, asking questions about the vampires.  When asked about himself, he says:

"Ah, I had been dealing with the uncovering of an ancient tomb in the Unwanted Desert.  Some long-dead ruler had been buried with his servants... and they didn't like it, in this world or the next.  It was lucky I had been there to train a cousin of mine, or I am not certain the tribe would have escaped devastation.  I see Pelor's hand in guiding me so.  Once the tomb was empty of evil, I came back here to see where else I am needed.  There have been some rumors in the north, so I will likely be sent that way."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 97):

Bruenor smiled as he inhaled the air of the market area.  It was the smell of civilization.
Granted, he conceded silently, it also smelled strongly of dead fish and manure, but it was civilization nonetheless.  Still, it was not without its own perils, so the duelist kept a wary eye out for cut purses. He went to the leather goods shop, looking to buy a belt pouch, something he presumed would make carrying spending money a bit easier.  Then, he found a discreet place to transfer some coins into it.

The variety of people in the city was always entertaining, and quite educational.   It showed that there was so much more in the world to see.

A quick stop for an ale sounded like just the thing to wash the road dust from his throat.  Of the available watering holes, the Pickled Eel and the Roaring Wave were the most appealing, both very alluring to his Kordite upbringing.  Though the Silver Egg definitely made him nostalgic for his days back in a proper city and the ways of a royal court. He shook his head, smirking to himself.   He was probably still too wild and jumpy from his adventures in the Wild Places to properly appreciate high class folk.  He'd probably forgotten which fork was the dessert fork, after all this time.
Looking at the rough Pickled Egg, he also gave it a miss.  A nice wrestling match sounded fun, but he was feeling a bit too lazy to take off his armor, and didn't want to do so without someone he could trust to watch his back.
So, once he had his belt pounch, he drop a copper to the entertainer he liked best, akd headed to the Wave, for some ale, tall tales, and perhaps a bit of arm wrestling.

"I will be at the adventurer's guild, though I'd have to ask Sis how long we are staying. Likely pick up a few jobs here. Yes we can trade spells. You know lots about fire too?" Dellas remarks excitedly as he slowly packs away the box of peppers in his pack.

Narthian is content with Lantamori's questions, having none of his own at the moment. Certainly something happened at the tidal pool, so at least there is a place to start. He wonders if the Sea Witches might have some stronger divination with their connection to the water? It might be a source to try if there is no trail at the pool.

"Indeed! By Saint Bane's will, perhaps, you were summoned. Or perhaps another might have served as the trainer in your stead! The dead should rest, and if not willing so, we shall smite them!" Farian is feeling a little riled up, almost wishing there were some undead here for her to smite. With effort she calms herself. "Perhaps news from the north has traveled another road and beat my company here. I know naught but of what I told you. If you do go north and cross the Deepwater, please do stop at Thalkin and check in on Baroness Giadella Velthe. She will be happy to know that the Greenleaf Company has not forgotten her."

When he finds himself quietly watching a squirrel darting through the interplay of light and shadow in the shade of the trees, Dante knows he's done. Calling Prreet as he rises, he finds his way back to the center of the glade. Looking for either the Glade-Warden, or one of the other priestess he saw earlier, he will leave them ten gold coins for the glade's peace, and also ask, "Is there someone here, or in town, who could craft the arrows I need? I've not the skills for that right now. I'm not sure how long my company is in town for, yet, but I will likely get some idea of that tonight."

If there's someone with the skills, he'll have to find out the cost, and how long it will take to make the arrows. Hopefully, he'll be able to afford both the time and the expense of getting some made before they set off on another long trek.

Pultain School of Polymorphing



Headmaster Oroti begins to speak, pauses, looking a bit surprised at Lantamori's comment, then finally nods.  "That hadn't occurred to me, but yes, if you can bring Professor Ishani to Hubert, assuming Hubert doesn't wish to come back of his own free will, then it will be enough.  Now, once Hubert or his explanation is obtained, we will fulfill our end of the contract, which is in spells.  We can cast a number of permanent effects on up to three people in exchange for finding Hubert."

--

Inn Street, Roaring Wave Tavern



Bruenor can easily find a belt pouch to his liking for a good price, and then finds his entertainment for the evening in the Roaring Wave.  Painted rough blue with touches of driftwood, the sign has a wave crested with foam and sporting a roaring face.  Inside the tavern are many trestle tables and benches, sturdily built, at which is a wide range of what looks to be sailors.  Humans, half-elves, aquatic elves, halflings, gnomes, even a couple of half-orcs, most with weather-beaten faces and light clothing, either eating and drinking or paired off in various matches.  The food mostly seems to be various fried vegetables with sauces, fresh fruits speckled with spices, and spiced chicken, while the ale looks to be mostly light and the type drunk in huge quantities with all the salty, spicy foods.  The bar at the back of the room seems to be made up of old ship's timbers and driftwood logs, and the bartender looks to be an old salt of a human man, wiry and tall with graying blond hair and a liberal amount of tattoos down his bare arms.

The three tables in the middle seem to be for the fights people are actually betting on, as they are being watched over by the greatest number of people, plus a judge to watch for cheating.  The current pairings are a solitary dwarf and a female half-orc, a pair of fierce-eyed halflings (one slender, one stout), and a red-headed human man facing off against an aquatic elf with octopus tattoos.  As the pairs size each other up, bets are called out and coins collected by several bet-runners, the anticipating reaching a pitch...

--

Market Square



"Hopefully we have enough time to exchange magic.  I am more of a dabbler than a specialist, but I have traveled far, and I have a few unusual fire spells.  I know one that will set a weapon aflame, and another that makes fire emanate from your entire body!  Good if you're ever stuck alone and surrounded," Calbador says, looking intrigued.  "How about yourself?"

--

Church of Pelor, Shrine Street



"And smite them I did.  My arms ached with all the smiting," Sir Kovi says with a twinkle in his dark eyes.  "And I will certainly tender my respects to the Baroness if I get to Thalkin. She has done more than anyone could have hoped for for her people.  Is there anything in particular you are looking to do around here for your Guild?"

--

Church of Ehlonna, Shrine Street



Grove-Warden Shallan accepts his coins with a small bow, and places them in a bowl in a niche for now.  "I am glad you found the peace of the goddess here.  As for arrows for Her bow, there are fletchers within the temple who also belong to the Fletchers' Guild.  It would be a cost of two gold an arrow for the materials and labor, plus a day to imbue them with Her favor.  How long they would take to make would depend on how many you wish to obtain," she says, stroking the long, soft ears of her enormous rabbit as it cuddles up to her again.

Dellas eyes light up at the mention of the spells Calbador knows "Oh those sound so fascinating. It's like a Phoenix Have you ever seen a Phoenix I want to see a Phoenix." the words explode out of Dellas mouth without so much as stopping to breath. As he finally begins to slow you see him take a deep breath and concentrate. "I do so enjoy fire magic, but have only learned of a few spells, I can send a gout of flame away from my hands, I can upon a sphere of fire to bounce and do my bidding, I can shoot bolts of fire across the field and of course I can cause a large burst of fire to appear within my sight range. The explosion is deafening."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 105):

Bruenor takes a seat at the bar, ordering some fried vegetables with a big mug of ale.  Looking around, he bets a gold coin each on the female half orc, the stout halfling, and on the red headed human.  He muttered a quick prayer to Kord (more to invite the Big Man to join the festivities than anything else) and took a sip of ale.

"Three spells would be perfect as there are three of us," Lantamori replied brightly.  This job was as good as in the tree!

"We'll let you know our progress," she continued, ready to get going.  She looked to Narthian to see if he was as ready as she was.

Narthian nods to Lantamori. "Yes, I am ready. Thank you for the information, Master Oroti." After making their way out of the college grounds, he says to Lantamori, "I do not know much of sea creatures, but the sea itself can seem boundless, I have heard. Perhaps the pool the kept for Hubert was not large enough?"

"Hubert is in love with the Sea Lady," the elf confided quietly to her comrade as they walked.  "A small god in the market made a bargain with me and that's the information he had.

"The Sea Ladyis a ship I saw named on the job board.  We can look there first to see if he's courting her."

Narthian looks incredulous. "A magically intelligent turtle fell in love... with a ship. And you bought the information from a small good of the market?" He shakes his head and laughs. Then a serious thought crosses his mind. "I know a spell that can put an animal completely under my control," he says. "It would 'love' me wholeheartedly. If the ship has been here a while, I wonder if Hubert is being used?"

"I didn't get the impression from the small god that Hubert was endangered or being used in any way, but it's something to watch out for," Lantamori agreed.

"Let's see if we can find the Sea Lady and what Hubert sees in her."

After relaxing for a bit, Bruenor was embarrassed to admit that he was feeling fidgety.   Draining his ale, he left the tavern, heading for the Adventurers Guild.

"I can't say that I am," Farian replies. "I mean, there are several jobs posted, and I know that a pair of my companions are tracking down a missing turtle. Although there is a posting for a missing skeleton that isn't a skeleton. Semi-intelligent and wearing a blue cloak. It intrigues me how a skeleton isn't a skeleton."

Narthian agrees. "I'll follow your lead and keep my eyes and ears open," Narthian says. Thunder nuzzles Narthians hand. "Yes, and noses," he adds for the wolf.

Market Square



"I have never seen a phoenix up close, though I saw one flying in the distance some years ago on a trip to the east.  It was considered a very lucky omen by the people I was staying with," he says, smiling at the memory.  As Dellas continues into his spells without pause, Calbador inserts his own comments when Dellas surfaces for air.  "Ah, good spells that!  Nice and useful if one is an adventurer."

Dellas see his sister lurking at the end of the counter.  Valiant is nowhere nearby, so likely she has taken her mount to stable somewhere, which means she is done selling all of the various goods.  She gives him a smile and wink, and he takes it to mean that the bargaining and selling of loot went well.

--

Roaring Wave Tavern, Inn Street



As soon as the best are placed, the judge raises a hand and shouts.  The matches are on!  The dwarf and half-orc meet with a audible crack! as their hand clasp and they begin to strain for supremacy.  Muscles bulge as their clasped fists waver back and forth, the dwarf stoic behind his beard, the half-orc with a snarl fixed on her face.  Slowly, in agonizing degrees, the half-orc leans the dwarf's fist over.  He fights to the bitter end, not giving up until she makes his knuckles touch wood.  There is a huge cheer when she wins, and the dwarf suddenly smiles.  The two embrace as mugs of ale are shoved into their hands, and you get the idea (from gossip around you) that the dwarf has been teaching the half-orc for some time.

The two halflings struggle back and forth several times, the lithe one and the stout one flip-flopping, making bettors moan and cheer as it seems fortune is very fickle.  Finally the lithe one gets his victory in before his opponent can rally, raising his fist in triumph!

The red-head and the aquatic elf set to their match with no dramatics, fists staying level for a long time, trembling marking the strain both are trying to exert, but no movement happening.  They stare into each other's eyes, ignoring the shouts from the crowd and the other matches, seemingly trying to intimidate the other by thought alone.  Nothing happens, and a tense hush falls in a small bubble around them.  Suddenly the aquatic elf closes his eyes and slams the red-head's hand to the table.  The cheers are deafening, and ale is liberally toasted.

Bruenor finds himself about two gold up, as while he lost two bets, the odds had been in the dwarf's favor.



Amusement done, Bruenor can wander back to the Guildhall.  The patrons from earlier are gone, either to their rooms or out on their own errands, and only the Guildmaster Karaja and the serving man, Roscoe, are still hanging around.  Almost.  A crocodile the size of a sofa is lying on one side of the fireplace, a tiny golden chain around its neck.

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing, and the streets of Port Lyalee





"As Hubert can speak and read and write, I hoped he would have told us if his accommodations had been lacking.  But it's more important that he is not hurt," Headmaster Oroti says.  "I am pleased that you will be accepting the job, and I wish you all the best of luck in finding out where our Hubert has gone."









Heading down to the docks as the sun begins to wester, torches are being lit along the streets, or magical lights being uncovered.  The docks are not the safest place after dark, but while Lantamori is dressed like a city-dweller, Narthian has a large wolf padding by his side.  Both spot a possible footpad or two in alleys that they pass, who decide that they are not easy prey and leave them be.

The docks of Port Lyalee are extensive and crowded, but asking at the Portmaster's office gets you the berth of the Sea Lady.  Strolling down there (with an eye out for trouble, of course), you eventually find a relatively small ship, perhaps sixty feet long, her timbers painted blue, her furled sails sea green.  Most interestingly is that her figurehead is carved to resemble a turtle-mermaid, if such a thing is possible, in strikingly lifelike detail.  There's no lights aboard the ship, but you can hear a tremendous racket of snoring coming from the deck somewhere.

--

Church of Pelor, Shrine Street



Kovi shakes his head.  "Well, there is a school for change magic in this city.  Perhaps the skeleton just looks like a skeleton, but was changed to be something else?  The magicians there have odd senses of humor, I've found," he says, chuckling slightly.  "I once saw them at the market, selling things they had carved of wood or clay and then changed into stone or metal."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 116):

Bruenor entered the guildhall, smiling about his modest winnings, and headed to go sit by the fireplace to relax.
"I KNEW that lady could pull it off...."
He nodded to the Guild master, giving his best grin, but then stopped abruptly and did an almost comical double take upon seeing the alligator.
His hand went to the hilt of his sword, and he looked at the Guildmaster with annoyed alarm.
"Um...so, it that thing here to deal with the rat problem in this city, or has the membership requirements changed recently?"

A large smile crosses Dellas' face as Calbador mentions seeing a Phoenix "Really!" He exclaims "You must tell me where out east. I must go see one." He looks over to his sister a big smile across his face "He's seen a Phoenix, A real Phoenix. You must join us for dinner and tell me all about it."

"I can see why he likes the Sea Lady," the elf whispered, waving at the figurehead with a smile.  She pulled out her new everbright diadem and set it on her head to see better.

"Huuubert!" she whisper called out for the turtle.  Perhaps he was nearby on the dock or floating in the water.  "Huuubert!"

"That does make a little more sense," Narthian agrees. Hearing the snoring, he bangs on the side of the ship with the butt of his spear. "Hello Sea Lady," he calls, timing it to fall between Lantamori's.

"How unnatural!" Farian exclaims in wonder. "Well, I thank you again for an excellent sparring session! I'm off to the guild hall to refresh my memory on this missing... creature!"

Adventurers' Guildhall



Guildmaster Karaja, a half-orc woman with rippling muscles, scars on her arm as if from a giant snake, and incongruously wearing small spectacles perched on her nose as she sits at her destk pouring over ledgers, looks up at Bruenor, and then flicks her gaze over to the alligator.

"That's Faust.  He's mine.  Already had over a dozen rabbits and two chickens, so don't let him fool you into thinking he's hungry.  If you want to sit on him, grab one of those blankets from the chest over there, because his hide is hard as stone.  Was useful when I was adventuring; monsters broke their teeth on him too many times to count," she says with utter casualness.  "Lazy bum wouldn't eat a rat if it went over and punched him in the nose."

The alligator makes a half-hearted hiss.

"Fearsome fighter.  Look at me, I'm shaking in my boots," Karaja says blandly.  The alligator opens one eye, glares at her, and then closes it again.  Roscoe snorts with laughter and nods at Bruenor.  "Needing anything?" he asks.

--

Market Square



Calbador laughs at Dellas' enthusiasm.  "Tell you what, I still have my hours to keep in the market, and I promised my sister I'd sup with her tonight.  But if you are in town for a few more days, then I can certainly meet you another night!  Here."  He produces a small card with his name and the address of his business on it.  "Send a message there about what night and where, and I'll make sure I dig out my diaries of that day so I can give you the fullest account my old brain can give!"

Sir Aberlayne laughs and claps Dellas lightly on the shoulder.  "Thank you, sir.
 Come on little brother, we can head back for own dinner tonight and let everyone know how my little expedition went.  Then we can plan to be free one night very soon!"

--

The Sea Lady, Blue Docks





A few moments after they begin, three things happen in rapid succession.

One, a turtle's head pushes up over the rail near the figurehead, just barely visible.  "Shhh! You'll wake him up!" he speaks, in a small, frantic voice.

Two, the figurehead turns towards Lantamori and Narthian, glaring at him fiercely.

Three, a figure pops up from the deck at the aft of the ship as if spring-loaded.  It's not so much a dwarf as a huge wild tangle of hair and beard with a dwarf stuck in it somewhere.  Bloodshot eyes stare at you both in accusation.  "Who'reya? Waddayawant? G'way!"  And then the dwarf abruptly falls down out of sight again, the snores resuming with even greater volume.

--

Temple of Pelor, Shrine Street



Kovi bows to her a sketches a blessing in the air.

Once back at the Adventurers' Guild, passing through the growing throngs in the Market and on Inn Street, Farian sees Bruenor is back, and thought she saw the Numps making their way back from the Market; they should be back soon.  Bruenor is currently talking to the Guildmaster and Roscoe the serving man, staring at an alligator of truly prodigious size that's lying on one side of the fireplace.

Lantamori joined the figurehead in glaring at Narthian before moving forward to speak with the odd couple.

"Sorry about my noisy companion," the elf whispered to them.  "We've been sent by the school to make sure you were all right, Hubert.

"What's with the angry dwarf?"

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 122):

Bruenor grinned at the Guild Master (Mistress?) and nodded.
"Sounds like Faust was a useful sort, at least before success spoiled him.  May we all get that fat and lazy in our successes one day, eh?"

He nodded more perfunctorily to Roscoe.
"I won a few gold gambling, so I thought I throw a couple towards my Guild Dues, and perhaps towards future services not yet needed.
And, I was hoping to bump into a few of my Traveling Companions here.  As much as lazing about like Faust sounds appealing, I'm not yet ready to rest upon my laurels, so I'm hoping they've found some more work for our team."

"Hello Bruenor!" Farian calls as she enters the guild hall. "I was hoping someone would be back. Lantamori and Narthian went off on the Turtle hunt, and I've been considering the missing non-skeleton skeleton."

Narthian shrugs off the glares in a sign of a not quite sincere apology. Never has he been bombarded with such an array of unnaturalness as he's encountered in the past few hours in Port Lyalee, and he's naturally suspicious of the Grumpy Dwarf. But he zips his lip and allows Lantamori to do one of the things that she does best, especially since he's clearly out of his element. He turns his attention to the surroundings, noting other ships and creatures abot the quay. The Grumpy Dwarf may have associates about after all.

In reply to Farian Raymellie (msg # 125):

Bruenor blinked in confusion for a split second as the lovely woman started talking to him, then suddenly remembered his friend Farian and "THE BELT"
"...damn...I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that.  more magical shenanigans..."
He put on a smile and nodded.
"Hello again, my friend.  How was your meeting at your temple?"
Since his friend was still a woman, so the meeting at his...her...church obviously didn't go as Bruenor had presumed.  Either Farian had found her new curse unliftable, or had decided to live with it.


"A skeleton non skeleton?  I have no idea what that means, but to be honest, I'm itching for some action, so lead on."

The Sea Lady, Blue Docks



"Oh, the dwarf is Mad Morrie," Hubert says softly.  He disappears from the railing after casting at glance at the figurehead, and the moves to a lower part of the rail, closer to you, so he can speak more discreetly.  "The Sea Lady is his ship, and he won her from Procan, or one of his children."

(Procan isn't that well-known except on the coasts and island, but you do know he is the wild and tempestuous god of the oceans.)

"I'm all right, I really am, but I am just trying to find a way to challenge Morrie for the Lady!  He doesn't believe I'm real half the time, and won't accept my challenges the other half of the time.  He's been knee-deep a barrel of grog for a fortnight!"

The figurehead smiles back at Hubert with a tender expression.



There are three other ships nearby, the Lantern, which is well-lit but seems mostly empty aside from a pair of very bored sailors on guard duty who are mostly ignoring you, the Blue Breeze, which has trim lines and ample sails, the latter of which is being tended to by a pair of half-elf sailors examining them for weaknesses, and the Curly Kraken, a more heavily-armed ship that has two guards at the gangplank and two more at the gunwales, as well as four sailors roving the deck.  Squinting, you can make out the metallic badge of the Moneychanger's Guild on the dock guards' chests, so perhaps the Kraken carries valuable cargo.  The guards are looking at you warily, but as you're keeping your voices down and not looking much at them, they don't seem compelled to leave their posts.

--
Adventures' Guildhall



The Guildmaster nods indulgently at Faust.  "He can still bite the leg off a dire bear if I ask him, but mostly I don't need to ask. Most folks here aren't that dumb."

Roscoe will take the gold with a bow and give to the Guildmaster, who will make a careful notation in a ledger.  Just as she's finishing, Farian walks in!

"How do you challenge him for the ship?" Lantamori asked, despite the fact they'd clearly completed their task of locating Hubert.  He was just so earnest.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 128):

Bruenor thanked Roscoe and nodded to him and the Guild Master, before turning his full attention to Farian

"I always feel refreshed after visiting a Temple of Light! And I think that you and I could handle the quest, although perhaps Aberlayne and Dellas would like to join us. I think that they are on their way here. I saw the halflings just a few blcks away as I arrived."

Breunor chuckled, almost shyly.
"Well, I'm good either way.  You and I make a good team, but what adventure isn't improved by the addition of halflings?  As my Uncle used to say "

The Sea Lady, Blue Docks



Hubert shakes his head sadly.  "I have to best him in a test of sea lore, but he must agree to it!  I have been studying hard and learning all I can, but he won't even talk to me other than to yell at me to get out of the way.  Until I can make him agree, there can be no challenge."

The figurehead makes a soothing gesture in Hubert's direction, and then gives a fierce glare to Lantamori and Narthian, as if daring them to do something.

--

Adventures' Guildhall

Dellas and Sir Aberlayne return soon after Farian and Bruenor start talking, the paladin all smiles, Dellas even more so.  When she spies her comrades, Aberlayne grins and heads right up do them.  She does a triple-take at the crocodile, sees Bruenor's ease in the reptile's presence, and breathes out slowly.

"Well, good news on the money front.  I found some collectors for several of the items, which means we got a lot more than what we'd get just unloading them at the nearest shop.  A thousand gold apiece, deposited at the Moneychanger's Guild," she says proudly. "What have you guys been up to?"

Farian thanks Aberlayne, gives a brief reply about her visit to the Temple of Light, and mentions Lantamori's and Narthian's taking on the job of the missing turtle. "Likewise, Bruenor and I are about to look into the missing skeleton. Would you care to join us?"

Narthian thinks he knows how Lantamori wants to handle this, and waits for her response.

"If he's not planning on leaving anytime soon," Lantamori proposed, "my companions and I can come back in the morning when the Captain is sober to see if we can get him to accept your challenge.

"Does that sound reasonable?"

Bruenor smiled at the halfling Paladin
"That's wonderful news, Aberlayne!  Thank you!."
He grinned a bit at her reaction to the alligator, glad that he wasn't the only one taken aback.  But he couldn't help but play it cool, pretending he'd been nonchalant the whole time.    He nodded towards the massive beast as if it were a fancy lamp.
"The big guy is Faust, a valued Companion of the Guildmaster.   He was a fearsome beast in his day, but now is fat and lazy in his retirement, as someday we all should be."

Dellas nodded to his sister, waved to the gnome shopkeeper. A look of excitement upon his face as he absently followed his sister back towards the guild hall as he imagined the phoenix soaring above him.

>>>>Along the Coast>>>>

After he had stabled Eagle again and seen to her care, Volsh entered the guildhall just ahead of Haazheel, Widowmaker clutched in his hand as usual.

As he spotted the giant reptile on the bar, a guttural growl escaped his lips and his grip on the spear tightened while his focus remained on the creature. Quickly though he spotted Bruenor and Aberlayne sitting somewhat at ease even in the presence of the creature so his posture relaxed. Though he kept his eyes on the creature he loped over to the other two and sat down.

"Well! How was your days?"

Haazheel is contnet to tag along. He takes in the reptillian, seeing what he/it/she looks like.

Dellas not waiting for anyone else to speak up "Well I ran into a most gracious Gnome who had the best Chocolates and he's Seen A Phoenix. A real Phoenix. He's going to tell us all about it some evening soon. Most exciting."

Volsh nods along with the little excitable halfling as if he understands what a phoenix is, even though he doesn't have a clue. "Sounds like a great day. Did you guys get good gold for the items?"

He clapped Haazheel on the back/shoulder and grinned, "we met a fey butterfly queen on the road back from the Wee Jas temple. I traded her a lock of hair for a kiss. Seems like a good deal."

Haazheel says A Phoenix, huh? Recall reading about them. Big birdlike being, just one of them...unique; When it dies, it burns and out of the ashes is reborn. Bur maybe what the gnome saw is different.

Adventurers' Guildhall

As each of the members of the Leadblade Company enter, Sir Aberlayne gives them a pouch of the chits used by the Moneychanger's Guild when large amounts are needed to keep track of locally without needing to weigh someone down.  "A goodly amount indeed.  I found some collectors, and long story short, everyone has a thousand gold apiece to spend as they wish," she says wit a smug smile.  "And you got kissed by a fey queen?"  She pauses at that, looks Volsh up and down with a discerning eye, and shrugs.  "Well done, you."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 144):

Volsh shrugged with a grin, "that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Thanks for the good negotiations."

OOC: are we fast forwarding so Lantamori and Narthian are back too then or are they waiting on a response from Hubert the turtle?

Sea Lady, Blue Docks



"Please, yes!  And... bring a remedy for a hangover, if you could?  'Twouldn't be a fair challenge if he's got a head banging like war drums," Hubert says.  The figurehead smiles at him lovingly.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 12:13, Thu 11 July 2019.

Haazheel looks at the pouch. What's most needed are items that protect our fighters. I'll donate my share to that end. Later on, it may be best that I receive an item...which probably will be expensive.

Smiling agreement with the odd talking turtle bug, Lantamori nodded and shepherded the other two in the direction of the Guildhall.

"I think that went well," Lantamori observed to Narthian as they walked through the darkness by the light of her diadem.

"We can stop to pick up Professor Ishani along the way in the morning to witness the challenge, and perhaps explain that Hubert is real.

"And he'll be able to verify the completion of our job for us," she added brightly.

"Yes, despite my waking of Grumpy!" He replies to Lantamori, chuckling slightly at the memory. "The whole thing seems rather strange to me, and I wouldn't mind knowing more of the terms of the challenge. The sea is a massive and mysterious place, far more so then any forest. I am concerned that the challenge may not be fair. Still, perhaps that is not for us to resolve. You have done quite well in finding Hubert, and I agree that bringing Ishani there tomorrow will have satisfied the requirements of job."

---

Upon arriving back at the guild hall, Narthian leaves the Hubert tale to Lantamori to tell, chiming in only to give her the credit. He thanks Aberlayne for her sales skills. When he can, he asks Volsh, "Have you told the others of your plan? I have news, but first you must inform the others as i am sure that we will need their help."

Farian congratulates Aberlanye on her success. To Haazheel she says, "I can bless weapons and armor with Pelor's Grace, granting a permanent enhancement of the item's natural properties. It is not an inexpensive ritual, but surely less so then buying from another. The only profit that I seek is to shine Pelor's Light through his works!"

The elf wasn't sure if "home made" magic weapons would really hold up over time.  Probably something best left to professionals.

"Narthian, Thunder, and I found the turtle," she said, directing the conversation in a more productive direction.

"We're going to finish it up tomorrow morning once the dwarf sobers up."

Dellas looks to Lantamori "Oh Exellent. I was going to look at helping them find that turtle. I needed to speak to them about spells anyways. Any other jobs that look interesting? I found the basilisk one too sound interesting. And the walking skeleton, that sounds fascinating." Dellas pauses and then continues "Did I mention that I found someone who has seen a Phoenix? A real Fire Bird. He's going to tell us all about it."

Farian smiles at Dellas's predilection with fire. "No doubt your ears are burning with desire to hear the tale," she says. She looks sidewards at Lantamori, with nearly the same smile. "Surely there is more to the tale, as you are two elves and a wolf. And, I suspect, all sober already."

Volsh nodded at Narthian and cleared his throat when Dellas asked about any other jobs. "Haazheel and I have a non-guild job that anyone can join us on, and it sounds like Narthian might have some news for me that might require some help as well."

"I went out to the WeeJas temple with Haazheel yesterday to talk to them about my... condition. They offered me special training to help control the beast and the curse. The price for that and any possible removal of it is that I have to escort one of their 'teaching sisters', whatever that is, to a retreat somewhere. If I do that, this teaching sister will... uhh teach me their training. Then go back to the WeeJas folk for my first change."

"With their help, the help of that fey lady we met on the way back, and hopefully some good news from Narthian and his druid friends, I look to control the curse and the beast."

"IF for some reason I can't, the WeeJas people said they can try to remove the curse the second and third nights of the full moon. If that doesn't work, they said they could try again the next month. So long as I can't control it, they can keep trying to break the curse for me. Might cost me a penny or two if I have to stay that long, but whatever it takes."

"I know what some of you are probably thinkin'," he looked at the others from the group, "but my mind is made up to try this. I'd like any help from you guys you can give. I haven't had a tribe since mine were slaughtered, but I consider you as close to my new tribe as possible. I will tread this path alone if I have to though. I don't want to eat any of you or anyone for that matter, but there are things from my past that haunt me. This curse could be the tool I need to conquer it. I can't pass that up."

He looked at Narthian, "what did your circles tell you? You said you had news. Go ahead and share it with everyone since you wanted me to tell everyone my plan."

Narthian relates the information provided by Gelty.



"I have information to find a werebear, so another quest for us to consider."

Bruenor smiled wryly.  He was getting bored, and not there were an overabundance of possible missions and errands to do.  Talk about going from famine to feast.

"I'll go where I'm needed.  There were a few guild missions that we were considering, but if someone on our crew needs help, I'm there."

"Where is the werebear Narthian? Maybe it's on the same route or near enough to the retreat the WeeJas ladies want me to take their sister."

Volsh nodded at Bruenor's lack of reaction and willingness to help if needed.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:37, Wed 10 July 2019.

Dellas pokes Volsh in the side "SO you're going to stay a werewolf. Aren't you worried about growing extra hair or what about the moon? Are you going to howl at the moon?"

Haazheel stops looking silly and pockets the pouch. he then says Probably doesn't hurt to be noticed favorably by clerics of Wee Jas.

Lantamori was totally distracted by Narthian pretending he had a beard when he portrayed the man he'd gotten the information from.  She wondered if he and Hazheel had joined an acting troupe or were just trying to one-up the other in their portrayals of others.

She tried to wiggle her ears as the druid had, but it just wasn't happening.

"How long would it take to craft, say, five or six?" Dante asks the Grove-Warden. He knows he can afford that, at least, and he has only had cause to need them twice now. Although now, he wonders what one would have done against the vampire-spawned witch....

Tomorrow, perhaps, he should look into some other, less... divine... specialty arrows. Just a few; he saw no reason he should spend all his earnings on weapons with finite uses. Stick enough ordinary arrows into most things, and they still died much more affordably.

Grove of Ehlonna, Shrine Street



"No more than a few days, three at the most," Shallan says with authority.  "Would you like to help make them?  We would welcome another set of faithful hands."

"Wolves do not howl at the moon," Narthian corrects Dellas. "The howls are a way of communicating with the pack, telling them where there is prey for the hunt. And yes, if this is successful, Volsh will howl. Thunder and I will see to it."

Narthian imitates another person, a rather poor copy of a sea elf, relaying the information regarding how to find a werebear.



"Before we seriously consider the werebear option, though, Gelty mentioned that it would be expensive. Six thousand gold at the minimum."

@ Lantamori: imagining Narthian as the gnome made me laugh out loud!.

Volsh doesn’t bat an eye at the price Narthian named, “ok. As long as its not much more or I’ll be begging you guys for rations on the road. If it helps me with this goal, I’ll pay it.”

He screwed up his face, “err, is down the coast south then? I have to take the Jasdian lady north.”

"When do you leave for this escort?" Lantamori asked the bearded man.

How much more hirsute could a human be?

Dante brightens at Shallan's offer. "I would be very willing to help," he tells her. "This seems like a skill I need to learn, while I have this bow. When would you like me to join you?" Three days isn't a long time, and it had been clear that everyone seemed inclined to spend a few days here, anyway.

"Tomorrow?" he replied to Lantamori. "Depends on where the...werebear that Narthian found is so we can figure out if we can do both as a larger group or if Narthian would be kind enough to lead a second group to speak with and hopefully persuade the werebear to aid me."

A dispirited Haazheel orders a meal and fuels his body.

Lantamori went over to speak with the Guild master about the local geography.

"Karaja," the elf asked, gaining the half-orc's attention, "how far away is Fisheater Creek and is it North or South of here?"

"No howling at the moon? Well that' disappointing. I want to meet a werebear. What about this turtle though. Aren't we looking for him too. Oh wait you said you know where he is. Shouldn't we get him back to the school?" Dellas jumps back and forth looking at everyone speaking quickly as he seems excited.

"It sounds like the turtle issue is just about cleared up," Farian says to Dellas. "Although I'm not sure how the dwarf factors into it. I think that I will go with Volsh, if we do split up. It will mean delaying the hunt for the skeleton, but it is apparently not undead and Saint Bane will forgive my procrastination. And it seems to me that dealing with a werebear is wholly within the purview of the druid."

It will be easy to start on the werebear quest once Herbert is helped, Narthian thinks. After all, we will be on the coast.

Adventurers' Guildhall

Haazheel can request a meal from the serving man, Roscoe, and he can serve him up a bowl of fine fish stew with a hearty chunk of bread while the others talk.

When asked about Fisheater Creek, Guildmaster Karaja looks surprised for a moment, then digs through her desk until she comes up with a rolled-up map.  Unrolling it on her desktop, she gestures Lantamori closer and points.

"South of here is nothing but ocean.  If you're going south, either there's something on the coast or there's an island out there.  Which there are," she says, indicating the blue squiggle of Fisheater Creek snaking northward from its mouth in the ocean, into a stretch of forest.  "Won't take you more than half a day going east, at most, to reach the mouth of the creek from here."

---

Grove of Ehlonna, Shrine Street



Shallan smiles at him.  "Shouldn't take me more than half a day to gather what I need, but this is crafted by moonlight.  We can start tomorrow evening at moonrise, if you're ready."

Prreet slowly slides off Averdante's shoulder and paces close to the enormous rabbit at Shallan's feet.  After a moment of sniffing noses, Prreet curls his smooth form atop the fluffy fur, seemingly taking a nap.

Thanking Karaja, Lantamori returned to the others and explained the geography.

"Fisheater Creek is east of us about half a day," she explained.  "There's nothing south of us except for ocean and islands.  So I suppose Volsh's escort goes east or west."

OOC: We do have a game map for the larger geography if folks are lost about where the port is.

Volsh shook his head, "that'd be easy huh? They said there's some shrine a few days at most north of their temple. The temple is about a half-day ride out along the coast. Don't remember a Creek or anything though near there."

OOC: DM - it wasn't stated if the road to Ruby Conclave was East or West on the coast trade road just that it was a north spur off the trade road.

A bit bemused by Prreet's actions, Dante nodded to the Grove-Warden. "I will return tomorrow evening, then. Thank you for all your aid in this, and with my bow."

Looking down at his cat, he asks, "Prreet? We'll be back tomorrow evening, but for now I'm heading back for the guildhall and some food. Are you ready to go?" He's half wondering if the cat will decline, given how comfortable he looks -- and impressed that the rabbit isn't bothered by the weight, despite how much larger it is.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:49, Fri 19 July 2019.

"If we split to go for both the bear and the escort, where will we meet back up?" Lantamori pointed out.

She was already planning on stopping by to pick up Headmaster Oroti in the morning as well as a hangover remedy for the dwarf.  Maybe find one at one of the port taverns?

"With no fore knowledge of the time involved for any of the missions, we had best meet back here," Narthian offers.

Thusly debated, the group can go to sleep in their cots or private room (depending on what they have paid for).  In the morning, there is porridge and honey, bread, some fresh berries, and tea for breakfast.  Those wanting something more substantial can part with a bit more silver and copper, and Roscoe can get it for you (probably from a neighboring inn).

Those headed to the docks can peruse the stalls nearby for hangover remedies, and are not disappointed to find several vendors selling a variety of ways to stave off the headaches, nausea, and other unpleasant symptoms of over-imbibing.  With a little bit of research, you can find one powder to add to a tea that seems to be both popular and legitimate, from a booth that bears the symbol of the Brotherhood of Alchemy.

Restorative in hand, you can resume your journey to the Blue Docks, where your walk to the Sea Lady perhaps is hastened by the loud yelling coming from it.  When you get to the ship, you see there is a smashed barrel on the pier, an extremely hairy dwarf whose wild hair and beard merge into a tangled whole that nearly engulfs him entirely standing on the side of the ship, howling his rage at the smashed barrel, and one Hubert the turtle, both cowering and defiant, on the opposite side, hovered over by the turtle-mermaid figurehead.

"How dare ye, ye black-hearted lily-livered pile of rotted fish guts! I ought ter have yer lights fer this!" the dwarf howls in utter rage, and starts to dig somewhere in what is presumably the region of his belt, hopefully for a weapon...

"Hello on the boat!" Lantamori called out, trying to get the furious dwarf's attention by further waving her hands in the air.  She once again was wearing her dress and armed only with her dragon dagger.  "Captain Dwarf, Sir!

"Perhaps we could help!  I've brought this headache cure with me as well!"

She hoped Headmaster Oroti would get the note they left for him on their way here.  He hadn't been in yet and they thought it better to get to the docks early.

Bruenor walked quickly to back up his friend if he were needed.
"That's not the turtle everyone is looking for, is it?"

As they pass through the market, Narthian purchases a sheath for his spear's head.

---

Narthian is equipped for the potentially dangerous trip to find the werebear, but makes no aggressive move. He gives the dwarf a look that suggests he would be better off listening to Lantamori then doing anything to Hubert. Thunder's head and tail droop, and a low growl emits from the great gray wolf.

Farian wishes Lantimori and her party luck for their mission. "I wish to learn more about the escort mission. It occurs to me that Sir Aberlayne and I might be interchangeable. And if that is the case, my preference is to track down the skeleton."

Sea Lady, the Blue Docks



The Headmaster had not been receiving visitors at that early hour; perhaps the headmaster is more of a night owl, or perhaps she doesn't want to set the precedent of too-early office hours so that over-eager students don't get ideas.  But the Dragon at the Door had promised it would be delivered promptly.

Narthian can also easily find a cover for his spear for a five silver; a simple leather casing with tight lashings to keep it in place.

--

As Lantamori calls out to the dwarf, he stops in mid-hop, whirls on her, and stares.  After two quick blinks, he jumps down to her level, grabs the tea from her hand, and downs it in a single swallow.

"That should have been t' first thing ye brought!" he growls.  Then blinks again. "Which ye did.  What you be wantin' of Mad Morrie?  Be here to help me with this shelled yellow-bellied coward?"


--

Adventurers' Guildhall



Sir Aberlayne had not seen a need to swell the crowd at the docks any further.  Too many might cause more problems than it solved.  She nods at Farian's comment.

"It's a good idea.  I know conventional wisdom says to stick together in situations of peril, but they wouldn't be traveling on a well-known road.  Bandits like to stick to a known road for their prey, because why would they chance not getting any reward on some trail or wilderness?  In wilderness, at least, you're usually facing beasts, which at least lack malice and forethought for the most part.  If you want to seek the skeleton, I certainly don't mind sticking with Dellas.  He's getting to a be a better wizard every day, but I certainly can stay near to make sure there's at least a body between him and peril," she says.

If asked, the Guildmaster can explain more about the skeleton job.

"Yes, missing skeleton construct.  Other than the blue cloak it was wearing, owner didn't want to give too many details.  Might be command words she didn't want bandied about or something.  If you commit to the job, I give you the address and she can tell you more specifics.  I remember her as artisan-type, elegant, well-dressed, but does her own craftwork.  You in?" Guildmaster Karaja asks.

Unable to break the habit of rising early, Dante lingered over his breakfast. Last night the others had spoken of resolving the missing turtle matter, and then heading out in search of a werebear. As the one didn't seem to need any help, and the other sounded too far away to be certain of being back before he was due at the grove, he would have to find other ways of entertaining himself today.

So, after finishing off most of a very good breakfast, he took the slab of buttered bread with him to peruse the sign board while he finished it off.

"We're here to help," the elf said, waving Bruenor off before the dwarf noticed him.  "Do you know why the turtle is here?"

She wanted to understand the dwarf's perspective before broaching the subject of a challenge for the Sea Lady.

"I trust to your judgement, Sir Aberlayne. I think you should go with your brother. And each who go with you, take one of my healing potions. Narthian would be of better use than I in the wilds." She turns to Karaja, "I would like to visit with the owner."

Perhaps Averdante can tag along, at least in the early stages.

"I can go with Volsh, he's big. And he kinda smells. Thing's wont want to eat us because of that." Dellas says with a smile as he looks up at Volsh "Besides my magic can protect me pretty well now and I want to see a werebear."

The Sea Lady, Blue Docks



"This overgrown water-bug been botherin' me for a week, wanting to duel me fer me ship!  Duel of wits, no less, and how's a dwarf 'apposed t' take that serious?  Had to drink just t' drown out that damn foolishness!" Mad Morrie says, scowling at all and sundry.  "Got a job an' a crew an' stuff to do. Setting sail tomorrow, and I can't be havin' this water-bug cluttering up m'ship!"

--

Adventurers' Guildhall



Checking the board, Averdante sees the following jobs available:





Sir Aberlayne strokes her chin, but nods right away.  "Take care of each other, then, and I'll see you back here hopefully tonight," she says, and grins at him.

--



The Guildmaster writes out an address on a bit of scraped parchment and hands it to Farian, along with a chit to show you've accepted the job and come with the Guild's blessing.  "Happy hunting," she says with a grin.

La Dorva ilk'Vale's address is The Supple Hourglass on Treasure Row.  At this early hour, the shops are just opening, unrolling their awnings and hanging their signs.  The Supple Hourglass' sign is that of an usually bendy hourglass of its name carved and painted with exquisite precision.  It's clearly a shop with a liking for unusual goods, as you can see chandeliers made of bones, books with covers of stone, peculiar candelabras, furniture, artwork, and jewelry all inside. A bell sounds pleasantly as you open the door.  The smell of incense and freshly carved wood is in the air.  Several of the candelabras and unusual lanterns are lit (one resembles a funny fat dragon with a burning wick in his open, grinning mouth for light), though you think that some may be continual flames.

At the back of the store is the counter where an elegant woman with her black and white hair done up with carved sticks, dressed in a tapestried gown in blue, covered over with a pale apron, rises at your approach.  On the counter in front of her is a half-finished carving on what looks like a heron.

"Welcome to the Supple Hourglass, Sun's Ray.  What wonders may I help you find today?  A light to help illuminate lost souls?"

If you indicate that you came to answer her job in the Guildhall and show her your chit, her expression changes to one of hope.  "Oh please!  I put so much work in Pearl!  I would dearly love to have her back."  She rummages beneath the counter and comes out with a colored drawing of a skeleton, its bones held together with gold and silver wire, gems studding the face and many of the bones, wearing a blue cloak.  The bones themselves have an iridescent sheen.

"I made Pearl from abalone and oyster shells, carved and riveted to look like bones, but no real bones went into her making.  It's only semiprecious gems on her, but I polished and carved them the best I know how.  The wire looks gold and silver, but it's only washed, just to provide a bit of shine.  She's animated by magic and follows my commands, but I don't have a blood tie to her like one had with a familiar, so I don't have any other way to locate her other than looking!  And I'm afraid my old bones are not going to hold up to tramping all over the city, looking for who might have waylaid Pearl!  I fear some desperate soul in the Market Square may have captured her for parts," she says the last with utter dejection, and dabs at her eyes delicately with a folded handkerchief.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:05, Wed 24 July 2019.

"You could accept his challenge," Lantamori proposed to the dwarf.  "I'm sure a sea captain such as yourself would have no difficulty in a duel of wits with a turtle.

"Then you'd be free of him to conduct your business in peace."

She shrugged and added, "Prove once and for all that Mad Morrie is the true and rightful Captain of the Sea Lady."

Narthian remains outwardly impassive, casually leaning on his spear. But his empathic link causes Thunder to growl a little louder. Narthian does nothing to stop it.

"Ah! The mystery is solved!" Farian smiles, but stifles a laugh in the face of La Dorva ilk'Vale's ordeal. "I confess that my interest in the undead brought me here, but now your attachment to this construct moves me to help. If it is Pelor's will, we will find your Pearl. Tell me, can Pearl speak? Are the commands that Pearl can follow limited in any way? Will Pearl follow hand gestures? Do you have perhaps any of the remains of the materials, the cast off from the carving perhaps? Do you know of any who would steal Pearl? Perhaps a local thieves' guild?"

Volsh chuffed a bit at Dellas' assertation that he'd be safe with Volsh because Volsh smelled.  "Yeah, I'll keep an eye on yer brother. So long as he don't make the werebear mad!"

Once they'd made their way to the docks before heading out of town, he only stood there incredulous as Lantamori tried to negotiate a battle of wits between a hung-over dwarf and a turtle.

"This might be the weirdest thing I've seen yet..." he muttered to himself, though still loud enough for others to hear a bit. He shook his head astride Eagle, sat back in the saddle and waited to see how this all played out.

Dellas watched the exchange between Lantamori and the dwarf. He walked over to the turtle, walking around it.

Haazheel tags along, content.

The eclectic listing of jobs was intriguing, and several looked to be things that didn't need a large group and were local enough Dante thought he might be able to take it on and pass a day away usefully. So when he'd finished off the slice of bread, he turned to go speak with the guildmaster, only to see Farian had apparently not left with all the others.

Upon discovering what the cleric was about, he decided to go along with her for a skeleton that wasn't. As long as it didn't venture too far away from the city, he'd help as much as he could.

Accompanying her to the shop, he was rather bemused to learn she had no plans to undo the belt's curse. That she'd decided to embrace the change as Pelor's will struck him as being rather more open and flexible than the average human male he'd met. Perhaps the change had altered her thinking, too? Either way, she seemed no less confident in herself than she had before. He had no worries about her capabilities; Farian had always been a priest with strong faith.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:05, Sat 27 July 2019.

The Sea Lady, Blue Docks



Perhaps it is the challenge from Lantamori, Narthian and Thunder's twin stares, Hubert's weeks of pleading, the figurehead's limpid eyes, or perhaps just the tea, but Mad Morrie makes up his mind in an instant.

"Then I'll do it, and ye red-shelled yellow-bellied stowaway can go back to where he came from!" Morrie growls.  He climbs back aboard the ship and onto the bow, facing Hubert with the figurehead between them.  Morrie stabs a finger at Lantamori.

"Ye'll be the witness, so get witnessin'!" he says, gesturing for her to come aboard.  Once Lantamori is aboard, the figurehead turns to the two challengers, and for the first time, speaks, asking a series of specific, complicated, seafaring questions.

When the wind blows at half-flag from the east as you're rounding Surprise Island, where do you point the bow to avoid grounding on the reefs?

When you find yourself entering a region of sargasso, how do you leave?

When the rugelt knocks upon your boat, what tribute do you give and how?

What is the best way to address a triton chief?  A mermaid queen?  A sahuagain warleader?

If a leak is sprung in the lower forecastle, how best to repair it?

What sail trim is best when trying to tack to the harbor of Port Xialar?

How much extra rope and canvas are needed for a trip to the eastern highlands when landing at Desolation Cove?  How much to bribe the shoremen there?

What is the best way to rid me of barnacles?

Both Hubert and Morrie answer each question, some faster, some slower, some with more confidence, some with many pauses.  It seems Morrie knows more of longer voyages, while Hubert is more diplomatic and scholarly, but well-read.  Both seem to be very close in the number of answers that seem to please the figurehead, but when asked the barnacle question, Morrie says, "Careen you.  Beach you and scrub them off with sand and scrapers, then use the high tide to float you again."  He seems proud of the answer, and the rest of the group notice that the little crowd that has gathered on the dock (because this is by far the most entertaining thing going on out here for a bored sailor stuck on deck watch at this hour) seems to think this is a logical and correct solution.

But Hubert says, after a moment's thought, "To protect you from barnacles in the first place with magic to repel them, woven into your wood so you would not have to worry about it ever again.  No lady should suffer to have her undercarriage exposed to the sky!"

The figurehead seems particularly pleased at that, and Morrie droops, looking suddenly sad and guilty, as if he's just remembered something.  The figurehead puts her hand on Hubert's leg, choosing him at the winner.  The assembled sailors let out a cheer as the figurehead leans over to Morrie.  Lantamori is close enough to hear what she says, "You tried, but Procan warned you that there is no boon of his without price."  She kisses Morrie on the forehead.  He turns to Hubert, his expression mostly buried behind his beard.

"Cap'n," he says, and hesitates, "Be ye needin' a broken down old drunk of a dwarf on yer ship?"

Hubert smiles and nods, and Morrie relaxes, suddenly looking like a great burden has been lifted off his shoulders.

Hubert turns to Lantamori, "Thank you for helping me, and him, and the Sea Lady," he says.  "We have a little voyage to take very soon, but if you need a trip anytime next month, we'd be happy to take you anywhere!"

--

The Supple Hourglass, Treasure Row



La Dorva nods as Farian asks her questions, "Pearl can speak a few phrases.  The magic I used grants her a small amount of intelligence, enough to respond to commands and have simple conversations.  That's why I sent her to do the shopping for me!  She's only supposed to respond to my commands, but a few of the city Watch know a special stop command in the off-chance that her animating magic goes wrong and they need her to halt.  That's never happened before and I've had Pearl five years, but I haven't changed the command.  She understands common gestures and body language, but mostly just uses them for following conversations and bargaining in the market."

She disappears into the back and comes out with a moderately-sized box.  Inside are several split shells, whole shells, worked but loose gems, and spools of gold and silver wire.  "These were her remnants and spare parts.  I have to replace things from time to time.  As for enemies..." La Dorva shakes her head, "I know of no Guild for thieves, but there are many strangers in the city and some I'm sure are desperate.  Anyone who's lost their fortune on a sunken ship or lost caravan, or who was bled dry by the gambling tables might try to seek coin wherever they could.  A few of my usual vendors remember seeing Pearl last week in the Market the day I sent her there, but none of those I spoke to saw her leaving."

Thunder relaxes once Morrie consents, and both watch the contest with interest. Despite his training and experience with nature, he is unfamiliar with the sea and tries to take in the new knowledge as best he can. He's glad that Morrie accepted defeat with such grace. When he can he approaches the dwarf. "When I first learned of Hubert, I thought it a cruel affront to nature to use magics in such a way. But now I see Nature's Plan. Can you see? Two creatures, made sentient by magic and in the form of a sea turtle (of sorts) find a like. The long loneliness of each is lifted, I feel. What could be a more natural pairing? Serve in peace knowing that in the end, the balance will serve you all."

"I'm just happy there's peace now between you," Lantamori said to Hubert before including the dwarf in her smile.  "But before you leave, you must say goodbye to Professor Ishani before you depart.  Let the school know what you've achieved here and that you'll be all right.

"Oh no," the elf interjected, realizing what she'd just said.  "I left the note this morning for the Headmaster and not the Professor.  I do hope that won't cause any confusion.

"The Headmaster was concerned when you disappeared and asked us to make sure you were all right.  They will want to wish you well on your journey."

The lady's list of folk who might confiscate her construct for coin is enough to leave Dante thinking she's had tremendous good fortune not to have it taken before now. It sounds like a fascinating device worth more than its material components.

"Has anyone tried to buy 'Pearl' from you recently?" he asks as Farian goes through the box of spare parts. "Or you had any disagreements with anyone? One of the vendors, perhaps?"

After she answers, he asks, "Do you have a list of the places Pearl was supposed to go to, on the day she disappeared? Or a copy of the shopping list and which vendors she would approach for those items?" At the very least, they could find out who dealt with the construct last, and thus have a starting point for their search. Farian had asked for the parts, and so was likely thinking of a spell that might link one to the other. Dante knew most spells had limitations on range, or areas affected, so the closer they could begin, the more likely it would succeed.

Volsh didn't understand half the questions and fewer of the nautical terms, but it was very amusing to watch a turtle and a dwarf get all screwed up with each other answering the questions put to them by a boat.

He shook his head and leaned to Haazheel, "that was weirder than the butterfly fairie we met yesterday."

When it looked like the debate had wrapped up he added to the rest, "shall we ride now or do you need to tell the guild the job is complete before we head out?"

"I do need to make sure that Professor Ishani speaks with Hubert," Lantamori replied to Volsh.

"There's no reason you can't go on without me, though.  I do have a few more things I need to follow up on in town anyway."

Silvered arrows was one of them.

Dellas sat on a barrel watching the debate between the dwarf and turtle, he found it odd that  a dwarf knew so much about the sea but he shrugged his shoulders as he popped another chocolate covered berry into his mouth. A treat he had picked up the day prior. Looking up to Volsh "We get to meet the wearbear now?"

"Perhaps," Narthian answers Dellas with a slight frown. "They are notoriously solitary. I once heard a tale of one where there was a party of 15 looking for shelter in its abode. It had to be cleverly tricked into doing so. It might be best if I go alone, and once I earn its trust, introduce you."

Farian nods in approval at Averdante's questions as she runs her fingers through the oddments looking for a suitable piece. She selects a remnant of shell with a streak of blue similar to the described color of the cloak, and awaits an answer.

Dellas looks to Narthian, obviously sad at the thought "But..." he slumped his shoulders and just nodded.

Volsh shrugged and looked to Dellas, "don't worry. We'll figure out how to get you to meet him, but Narthian's probably right. At first probably just he should go in. If the bear wants to talk to me, I'll bring you along too!"

He looked at Narthian and others who were going now on these tasks, "so we'll try to find the bear first, then head up to the Jasdians and escort that priestess?"

Haazheel is ready to go.

"I'm suggesting bringing the priestess with us, thus using a different route then the most likely to her destination."

The Sea Lady, Blue Docks



Morrie nods and abruptly crouches on the deck to come closer to Narthian's level.  "Aye, there's that.  And never make a bargain with a fickle god.  Some free advice for ye," he says, before levering himself back up.



Hubert had been gazing rather lovingly into the Sea Lady's eyes when Lantamori's comment draws him back to the present.  He looks startled and dismayed as she points out Oroti and Ishani's worry about where he's been.  "Oh, of course!  How utterly thoughtless of me!  I'll send messages to them forthwith!"  He closes his eyes and makes a few shuffling gestures with his feet, whispering a few sentences, then repeating the process again.  Hubert opens his eyes when he is done.  "There!  Now they know right where I am and what I'm doing.  Thank you for reminding me about my manners."

Thusly having solved the mystery of the missing turtle, the group can be ready to depart Port Lyalee for their respective destinations forthwith.  As they're getting ready to leave the Blue Docks, both Narthian and Lantamori have a zephyr swirl around them.   

--

The Supple Hourglass, Treasure Row



La Dorva considers the questions carefully.  "I had one person ask about her, asking first to buy her, and then purchase a plan to make something like her.  Selbian Dross, artificer from the Mage's Guild, that was his name.  Half-elf, very intense, dark hair, fairly young.  He wanted to try to either modify Pearl or make something like her, but different.  I didn't want to sell Pearl, and he seemed to be mostly all right with that, as he was looking for a building partner who wouldn't tire and Pearl is not articulated for that.  I would have sold him the plan, but the investment in life energy for create something like Pearl is substantial and he didn't want to use that much.  He seemed disappointed, but not anywhere near the point of rage.

"I haven't had any problems with my vendors; I don't try to dicker down the price to nothing, and they don't charge me like I'm dripping gold.  I've had a few disagreements with some passing sailors and adventurers over the prices they wanted for things they were selling, but no particular threats were uttered or implied.  There's plenty of businesses on Treasure Row, so if one doesn't like my prices, they can try other places.  I tend to only acquire very unique goods."



"Ah yes," La Dorva says, and goes behind the counter to find another piece of parchment.



"None of them claimed to have seen Pearl since the day I sent her, but... it might be possible I am not seeing things as clearly, or she may have crossed paths with someone unsavory in the Market," La Dorva says, looking quite anxious.

"I'll be heading back to the school to finalize the completion of our mission here," Lantamori said as she stepped off the dock onto dry land.

"Narthian, are you and Thunder coming, too?  Or should I tell the headmaster you'll come by once you've returned?"

Volsh shrugged, "I guess if the priestess doesn't mind, that'd be fine. She might know something about this werebear if she's lived 'round there at the Jasdian place long enough. Heck, maybe she's a werebear in disguise too!"

"Well, let's head out then? Daylight is burning."

Breunor headed back to the Guild house to wait

"Yes, let's go quickly. We can meet the others at the east gate."

"Thank you, this is all valuable information. If you don't mind, I will take this fragment with me. I feel it may aid me in focusing Pelor's Light." Farian waits to see if Averdante has any more questions.

While Volsh and the others going on the field trip presumably head for the East Gate, Lantamori, Narthian, and Thunder head for the school.

Dante nods at the woman's information, and accepts the list she offers. "This will give us a place to start a search," he tells her.

Turning to Farian, he suggests, "Off to the market, then?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:24, Fri 09 Aug 2019.

Pultain School of Polymorphing

Upon returning to the school, Lantamori, Thunder, and Narthian are granted swift audience with the Headmaster, as it seems she had left orders at the gate that they were to be admitted swiftly.  Once back into her peculiar office, she smiles softly at them and gestures for them to sit.

"My thanks to you for finding Hubert, and not only finding him, but seeing that he found his heart's desire.  That is beyond what I had asked, a kindly gesture that speaks well of your spirits.  Now, I promised you payment in spells, and that is what I shall give you.  I can make a spell permanent on each of you, or on an object of your choosing, depending on the spell and what you wish.  On yourself, I can increase or reduce your size, though not that of the wolf, I'm afraid, increase anyone's luck, or make one of your natural weapons able to strike through magic-hardened hides.  I can also place a spell of alarm upon an object, or program another to emanate sounds or lights.  What would you like?"



--

City Gate and Adventurer's Guildhall

Anyone not going to the school, being Volsh, Bruenor, Haazheel, Dellas, and Sir Aberlayne, can gather what supplies they would need for a few days, saddle their mounts (if they have any), rent a mount (if that is their wish, it will be 3 silver a day for a light horse with tack and feed) and assemble themselves by the gate to await their companions.  A tavern is right by the gate, unsurprisingly named The Portcullis, and seems to serve a wide variety of ales (whatever was on sale) along with various fried meats and vegetables on a stick, so one can buy and eat them on the move.  A halfling musician with a fiddle is playing some lively jigs by the corner, with a hulking brute of a half-orc playing the drums next to him.  Most of the traffic going in and out of the gate is local farmers delivering fresh produce to the markets, but you see the occasional traveler, including someone driving a string of horses from Crosston (known far and wide for their mounts), a few nobles in a fancy carriage, and a dwarf ratcatcher with a business of ferrets swarming his vest of seemingly endless pockets.

As the ratcatcher passes, several interested street cats begin to stalk the squirming vest.  In The Portcullis, a roar of laughter bellows out from a broad-chested mercenary or adventurer-sort at the bar, the man howling with mirth at a red-faced half-elf in long robes who looks ready to blow his top.

OOC: a group of ferrets is called a business - your fact of the day!

--

Market Square

La Dorva thanks Farian and Averdante profusely for helping her try to find Pearl, and lets Farian take the box of spare parts with her.

Even at this early hour the Market Square is bustling.  Fresh fish, fresh bread, and other food are the most popular wares in the morning, and people brush past with their baskets and string bags full of their morning's shopping.  A few trinket stalls are open, but more those selling more substantial goods are still just in the stages of setting up.

OOC: Where are you going and what do you wish to ask when you get there?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 218):

Breunor saddled up Demon, bringing the monstrous warhorse to the inn to wait with his friends. He got some meat on a stick to pass the time.
He relaxed and listened to the antics of the band

Haazheel reins in and says I think, just a hunch, that we should be near the half-elf. Stop violence, maybe....maybe some benefit.

[I think Haazheel has a horse.]

In reply to Haazheel Thorn (msg # 220):

Breunor took a sip of his drink and looked at the wizard questioningly
"Why? who is he?"

"It was our pleasure," Narthian says, speaking for himself and the wolf. He produces a common lantern from his pack. "I think that I would like the spell of lights on this. Thunder would like the touch of luck."

Farian pauses on the edge of the market. "I will rule out Selbian Dross first," she says to Averdante. "I plan to seek divine guidance for this. I will need some incense and then an out of the way place to focus and pray. If you like, you can start interviewing the merchants and I'll find you when done."

I should have looked at the material components list for Augury first. But hopefully I can find some incense in the market. She'll buy 50gp worth.

If she can cast Augury, the question will be, "Is it worth the effort to investigate Selbian Dross in the disappearance of the construct known as Pearl?

City Gate

Demon, perhaps unsurprisingly, tries to steal some of Bruenor's kabab.  At least he didn't try to eat any of the passing chickens.

At The Portcullis, the half-elf in robes takes a step back, and it's clear his robes are sodden.  It seems the big man had apparently sloshed his ale on the half-elf, either by accident or design.  The big man continues to guffaw, a few others standing there joining in at the joke, as the half-elf's face gets a few shades redder with anger.

The halfling and orc two-man band see the trouble and abruptly change their tune, literally, into a rather rowdy drinking song.  That seems to distract the big man and his friends, as they start singing along, though it doesn't seem to assuage the half-elf's anger.

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing



"Very good, then.  Set that here," the Headmaster says.  She places one hand on the lantern and says a few words, making a few simple gestures, repeating them several times.  The lantern begins to glow.  She utters the word dizzade and opens the door to the lantern.  Four balls of light rush out of it like cats escaping a bag, only to hang around a few feet from the lantern.  With a murmuring of azjun, then return to a single point of light, and she closes the door.  "There!  That should be useful for you.  Let your wolf friend know this won't take but a moment."  With a few more gestures, she strokes down Thunder's fur four times, each time making his fur seem a tiny bit glossier.  At the end of the casting, she brings her hands away and touches his snout lightly.  "There you are, my fine furry fellow.  Far harder to hurt now."

--

Market Square



It is fairly easy to find incense for sale at fairly normal prices; between those wanting some for their devotions, incantations, or just to chase away the stench of their surroundings, you can find many kinds for sale.  With the burning of the incense and a whisper of prayer in a quietish corner, Farian attempts to petition the power of Pelor to part the veil for her.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 224):

Bruenor looked at his friends, then back at the situation, then sighs with resignation and gets up from his barstool and approached the big man
First, he tried to be friendly
"Hey, Bud, spilling your drink on someone isn't the end of the world, i know, but the least you could do is apologize and buy the man a drink.   You look like you have pride in yourself, right?  Come on, man, show us you're a man of honor and do the right thing "


OOC:
02:24, Today: Bruenor Sedricson rolled 12 using 1d20-1.  Diplomacy

"I'll take the luck as well," Lantamori said after Thunder and Narthian had accepted their boon.  A bit of luck to avoid danger would be welcome.

City Gate



The big man looks Bruenor in the eye, and suddenly laughs and claps his shoulder before turning to the irate half-elf. "Ah, you're right!  Come on then, barkeep, get the lad an ale to replace his, and another for my conscience, here.  No hard feelings, eh? Don't know my own reach when I was swinging my arms about."

The half-elf looks mildly mollified, at least enough to remember that he's within earshot of a half-dozen city guards who would put a stop to a barfight soon enough.  He sniffs in recognition, nods tightly to the big man, and takes his replenished ale.  With his other hand he begins to pass it over his robes, drying and cleaning them with what seems to be magic as he goes.

The big man passes Bruenor an ale and thumps him on the shoulder.  "Luck on yer back then, Red," he says.  He eyes Bruenor's fine red armor and elegant sword.  "If you find yourself in the sparring yards at Kord's temple some time in the next few days and could use a sparring partner, ask for Ansel."  He taps himself on the chest in explanation, drains the balance of his own drink, and sets off along the streets, striding towards the markets.

Haazheel had found himself in need of his own horse for the trip, and while the others had headed straight for the gate, he had stopped by Killdagger Stables to find a mount of his own.  Not needing the kind of expensive trained warhorse that some of the other martially-inclined members of his party rode, he just needed a swift mount.  Passing by the steady beasts of phlegmatic temper and plain coats, he found a blue roan gelding with a black nose, tall and shapely, named Azure, or a parchment-colored mare with blue eyes and exceptionally glossy hair, named Feather.  Azure is advertised as the faster runner, Feather, however, is the showstopper in looks. Either could be had for 110gp, including saddle, saddle blanket, bit and bridle, halter, saddlebags, a few days' worth of feed, and a grooming kit.

Either one he picked, he could meet his companions at the gate with a new mount!

---

Pultain School of Polymorphing



Headmaster Oroti smiles and gestures for Lantamori to sit so she can stand above her.  She runs her hands down close to Lantamori's head, as if smoothing something over her in the air, muttering various arcane words.  When the spell is in place, Lantamori does feel a bit as if her armor was more protective, but not weighing her down in the least.

"And there you go!  That will last forever, barring you running into someone with a talent for dispelling magic.  Best of luck to you!"

OOC:  If that is all you need, you can grab your gear and head out to the gate to meet your companions.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:51, Mon 12 Aug 2019.

Checking the list, Dante looks around for the nearest of the vendors on it. Possibly the construct had taken the same path from the shop to the market as he had just done, so the nearest one would be the one she went to first. He kept an eye out, though, for anyone loitering, or trying to hold up a wall -- a beggar, perhaps, or someone else watching for opportunities, child or otherwise.

Not everyone who came to the market was likely there to buy something, and folk like that tended to be watchful.

When he found one of the merchants on the list, Dante waited politely for them to have a moment, then introduced himself. "Good morning. I am Averdante, with the Adventurer's Guild, and I'm searching for La Dorva's construct Pearl. She was sent out as usual five days ago. Do you remember if she stopped here that day?" He waited to hear the answer, before asking, "Was she carrying anything when she arrived, or were you her first stop?" Getting that answer, he asked, "Did you notice if anyone seemed to be unusually interested in her?"

Haazheel lets each horse sniff him, and he strokes each. He notes reactions.

Market Square



Keeping a look out for any idle observers, Averdante spies a good prospect near Three-Tusk Wood, the nearest booth to his entry in the market.  Between a carver's stall that makes toys and a small food stall that sells cider and spiced nuts there is a cheerfully cheeky beggar-child and who you guess might be his mother (an older woman who seems to be missing her legs from the knees down).  The child, a young human boy, keeps up a bright patter to those buying both food and toys, occasionally breaking into song or directing people to having "a quick glimpse of their future" as his mother will briefly read palms.  Often people will drop their change from the neighboring stalls into his begging bowl, but from the worry on the mother's face when she isn't reading palms, her expenses are more than the coins they're getting.

Three-Tusk Woods is just past the carver's stall, run by a half-orc couple, the man missing a tusk.  Both the husband and wife seem quite muscular enough to have cut and hauled every piece of wood in their large stall, which seems to specialize in heavy furniture and also wooden blanks for other craftsbeings.

When there is a break in the selling, he gains the attention of the husband, who listens to Averdante's questions with growing concern.

"Huh," he says, drumming his fingers on his opposite arm as he thinks.  "Yar, Pearl was here.  She usually stops here first if Miss La Dorva has an order.  Got the densewood rods and put them in her pack, paid up promptly.  Pack didn't seem completely empty, so maybe she was selling something for Miss La Dorva.  Or she was using something in trade to pay for other purchases.  Made hers in coin this time, but sometimes she offers things in trade instead.  Statues, crests, tools, things we could use.  Hmm, don't think anyone seemed too interested in her, but she's still a pearly skeleton and we get a lot of foreigners around here.  People stare, though at least there were no religious types.  One time some whack-happy undead-slaying adventurer paladin of Pelor thought the skeleton buying spiced nuts was an unholy abomination and shattered her arm with a mace, and would have smashed her to smithereens if his friends stopped him. La Dorva wasn't half mad, and I don't blame her!  Had to rebuild her arm and the temple paid for it.  Last I heard the paladin was out in the unexplored lands, guarding missionaries and sleeping in bug-infested hovels at best.  Been out there two years, far as I know."  He seems to realize he's been rambling and shakes his head.  "Saw some wizard-types staring at her that day, I think.  Might have been students, or maybe apprentices in the Mage's Guild.  They were wearing a badge, but I wasn't paying much mind which one."

--

Killdagger Stables, a bit earlier

Blue snuffles Haazheel's hands, then his pockets, sleeves, and hair, clearly looking for some kind of treat before leaving him alone, but standing fairly calmly.  Feather pushes her nose into his hands, and then later shifts her neck under them, clearly letting him know where she likes to be scratched and petted.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 227):

Bruenor smiled, honestly surprised that his style of diplomacy worked.  The big guy must be a bit drunk.
He nodded at the man's offer
"I'd almost joined in earlier today, but we were pressed for time , but I'll definitely have to stop by.  It's been too long since i had a good throw down"

Bidding Narthian and Thunder good luck on their camping trip with Volsh, she headed back to the guild in a leisurely fashion.  She did however, make a point of stopping by The Lucky Bladesmith.  She did have some silver arrows to pick up.

Volsh had retrieved Eagle and saddled the horse, letting her feed as she needed, then rode with Bruenor and the others to the East gate to wait on Narthian.

When Haazheel indicated they should intervene in the half-elf's brewing trouble, he was about to do or say something when Bruenor got up and handled the situation. Volsh shrugged and kept on drinking the ale he'd bought along with some kebabs. "Surprised talking worked... they must not be that drunk yet," he mumbled.

He patted Eagle's neck and stood there waiting to start their field trip. He was eager and his eyes kept darting around to look for the last member of their group.

Haaaheel makes friends with Feather. He comments It's a pleasure to meet a lady who lets a fellow know what she wants.

-----

Haazheel sits down with the group. You two gentlemen might have a tale to tell. If so, I'm buying you a round.

Narthian collects his lantern. "Thank you! We will put your gifts to good use! If I am understanding this magic, dizzade activates, azjun returns the light to the lantern. Correct?"

Narthian is still not used to Lantamori's preference for cities, but thanks her for an interesting mission. Then he and Thunder trot off to the city gates to join the others.

Farian is surprised by the answer. She was sure that it was thieves. She collects her thoughts, realizing that her question doesn't point a finger, just that a visit will be beneficial to finding Pearl. She heads into the market to find Averdante.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Tue 13 Aug 2019.

Dellas sat on his mule next to Volsh, the difference in size staggering noticable, a book in hand he casually flipped the pages as he waited on the others. Inside he struggled with remaining so calm.

City Gate



"Well then, I'll be looking out for you," Ansel says before heading down the street to presumably resume his entertainments somewhere where the atmosphere is less explosive.



The apprentice at the Lucky Bladesmith has your arrows ready, wrapped in soft leather.  He'll show you them, sleek and beautiful and deadly, before wrapping them again for transport.  You can find your companions easily enough at The Portcullis, some having a touch of pre-trip refreshment whilst waiting.



The elegant Feather makes certain Haazheel gets every itchy spot properly scratched before she's saddled up, but she rides very smoothly, and doesn't seem to mind Mystique at all.

--

The man in robes and some of Ansel's friends are pleased to have a free drink.  The robed man nods at Haazheel, recognizing another practitioner in the arcane arts.  "Thank you for that, and your friend's intervention.  I shouldn't have let myself nearly explode, but the robes are new and I had things to do today, people to meet.  First impressions matter."  Upon closer inspection, beneath the man's dark hair it's clear he's a half-elf, and he bears the badge of the Mage's Guild on his robes.  "Selbian Dross, pleased to meet you.  Ah, looks like your friends are about ready for you.  Thanks again for getting," he pauses, clearly wanting to use some stronger language than is wise while still within earshot of Ansel's friends, "that man out of here."



"Quite right!" the Headmaster says.  "Best of luck to you all in your endeavors."

With that, Narthian and Thunder can make good time to the city gate.

Dellas is nearly dancing with impatience, while Sir Aberlayne is keeping watch (atop Valiant, to give her a better perspective) for any more potential trouble.

When everyone has arrived, the group can set off!

OOC: All those traveling, please post to the Along the Coast by Port Lyalee thread!

---

Market Square



Averdante is easily found at Three-Tusk Woods, speaking to the half-orc proprietors of the large stall.  There are several beggars, entertainers (juggler, acrobat, sleight-of-hand magician, puppeteer) and musicians (fiddle, lute, pennywhistle, and tabor) scattered throughout the market streets, and many others with smaller wares peddling them from trays as they walk through the square, rather than stay to a single stall.  It's a busy, bustling place, even at this fairly early hour.

Pleased to meet you, Magistar Dross. Perhaps I shall have the pleasure of meeting you again.


Haazheels exits.

Farian waits for Averdante to finish his conversation before telling him, "A light in the darkness you have given us! Your question that lead to the name Selbian Dross has born fruit. Pelor's will is that we follow up with the wizard, so His light will push back the shadows of the mystery." Farian's face is practically aglow with excitement.

Turning to see the excited priest provoked an odd feeling of dissonance. Dante couldn't help but think that the magic that had changed Farian's gender had effected more than just a physical change in the priest -- which was a bit strange to think about.

"So your spell bore fruit?" he asked her. "Is Pearl with this mage?" He glanced over at the beggars he'd noted, wondering if he he should still speak with them. It depended on whether Farian's spell had located the construct itself, or merely lead on her whereabouts.

"If a wizard has taken her, we should gather some information on him before we visit. If he might be hostile, it would be safer to be ready for that, than be surprised by it."