"We will be going the long way around, to be sure," Narthian says. Then he spreads his arms wide to the sky and smiles. "And this is my realm. The cycles of the day and night, the turn of the seasons, all of this and more I have studied since before you breathed your first breath. I will see to it that we are not late to the Ruby Conclave."

Temple of Boccob



Sister Page nods carefully, pursing her lips as she selects several tomes from her collection and places them on her workbench, opening them and finding specific pages, talking all the while.

"Yes indeed, I see the need for such a thing.  The fact that such an item appears in legend but is not part of the common repertoire of magic items is truly an astonishing feat, once you think of it.  Paladins and clerics have their own healing magic, as do druids of course, but think of a wandering friar who could use such a thing on the wounded, a village herbalist on a woman dying in childbirth, or a squire on his lord during a battle.  Or, to look at the darker side of things, why wouldn't a tyrannical lord, paranoid noble, or bandit chief have such a thing to safeguard their lives?  Certainly there is a periapt that can make one immune to poison, so certainly a reusable form of healing unchained to spellcasting is needed.  But why wouldn't it have already been created?"

She flips a few more pages, and pulls yet another tome, this one more dusty and somehow looking even more ponderous.  It bears the scales of justice on the cover.  "Forgive me if I speak my theories out loud.  I know you are not a magician or cleric yourself, but all magic, divine or arcane, follows laws and logic, and sometimes one with an unbiased perspective can see ways such laws can be applied even if they cannot employ them.  Now, I am looking in this book to see if there are any restrictions on such a magic item being made, because it is possible that something like this was made and used in the past, but was outlawed because of association with a terrible crime.  No one might remember the law today, but it can still be enforced, and one doesn't want one's notes and work taken, disenchanted, and burned because of a technicality because someone got jealous and went looking for a reason to discredit you.  It reflects poorly on oneself and is a terrible waste of resources."

She peruses the book for several minutes in silence, checking several pages carefully, before giving a sharp nod and shutting the book.  "Very well, nothing against this endeavor is in the Gold Book of Law, so we shall proceed.  So, magic in wands is placed there so that only someone with the right training has the concentration to access it, whether that be prayerful meditation, mental discipline, or diligent study.  Some can access a wand's power without having been trained in magic, but that in and of itself is a hard-won talent, so that doesn't apply here.  Magic in potions is suspended in a medium of liquid or salve, or occasionally a tile or bundle of herbs, so that the act of use triggers the magic.  But magic in items, magic that stays, has several forms, some of which overlap."

Sister Page takes out a sheet of parchment and draws a belt with a charcoal stick on it to point to as she muses.  "Continual magic, that maintains a constant effect, commanded magic, which only activates when indicated, and limited command magic, which activates when indicated, but only has a limited amount of power available.  The third would be the least expensive and thusly the easiest to attempt if things don't go as planned... though I would attempt to impart a bit of healing knowledge so that once the magic is spent one would have the know-how to bandage any remaining wounds.  Won't be continual... would need troll hide for that and I'd never get the smell out... lion?  No.  Plant fiber?  Possibly..."

The sister's speech drops into mumbling, though she looks up and sharply at Bruenor several times, seeming to examine his own armaments with shrewd eyes.  She nods finally, and rises.  "I think I have a possible magical solution, but I need some items for the making.  I need linen which has seen battle blood but not been destroyed, comfrey roots that are five feet long, and a metal shield that has seen hard battle but not been broken so we can make a buckle.  If you can find me these, I believe I can solve this puzzle for around a thousand gold."

--

The Derro Caves and Mushroom Grove

"Basket was my mushrooms.  Spoiled now," Ki'kallen says.  He blinks and looks about the room and points to a dark bundle with an old cloak, waterskin, and an empty leather carrying bag.  Thulon grabs it, and Pelskin leads the group out of a long, sloping passageway that leads back to the grove.  Ki'kallen takes a shuddering breath as he finally sees sunlight again, sobbing for a few moments.

"Thank you, all of you, for getting me out of there.  I thought I'd been given up for dead, and I nearly wanted to die too," he says.  Thulon will refill the waterskin and get some food and water into the boy once they get back to the horses.

Inside the bag that Thulon and Pelskin had made is the derros' belongings: four ragged blades about the size of short swords, one adamantine stiletto, two dozen decorated hair pins in wood, bone, and metal, a tiny hematite figurine of a darkmantle, a couple pouches of semi-precious gems, four vials of poison, three hanks of moss soaked in something that Ooolorn estimates are their equivalent to a potion, a stubby wand made of crystal, and a curious ring made of stone twisted with metal.  Ooorlorn doesn't have an identify spell handy, but can tell you that the figurine, potions, wand, and ring are all magical.

It will take a bit longer to get back to the city, as there's only so much room on the horses, but you can get back by nightfall.  The Lull family set up a cheer as Ki'kallen comes into view, mobbing the group of adventurers and making a fuss of that part of Market Square.  Shariden Lull hugs Ki'kallen until he looks to be nearly squeezed to death, but he doesn't seem to mind a bit.  The welcome goes on for a while, with every member of the party getting hugged and thanked and having drinks pushed upon them.

Finally, Shariden Lull pulls the adventurers aside and holds out a bundle to them.  "Thank you, thank you so much.  We had begun to worry we'd never see him again, and I've raised that boy since he was a stripling; I care for him a great deal.  Here is the herbs we promised you.  Healing herbs, purification herbs, purgatives, restoratives, teas for rest or wakefulness or nausea, and ones for cooking too, because I know a life on the road can mean bland meals.  And it's only a token of how we all feel, so please, with our blessing, thank you!"

--

The Adventurers' Guildhall

As the night's discussion goes into their current obligations and possible future tasks, Sir Aberlayne chimes in, "The Wheels of Justice grind fine and sometimes slow.  If they can keep Selbian Dross contained, it may do him a little good to rot in prison for a while.  And if he was unable to tell them that he was suspected, perhaps his silence will make his leash-holder think nothing has happened but a delay.  If it is otherwise, then the public nature of the arrest has already made the bird flee, and the trail will not be much colder for a short delay.  But as Dross was putting it in a wine cask to send it, I wager it was going far, and distance can be slow."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 347):

The woman's magical meandering one sided conversation was weirdly fascinating, in a bizarre way.  He only followed half of it, which was twice as much as he'd expected, frankly.
When the woman stsrted talking about him gathering ingredients, though, he took notice.  He admitted that he had been hoping that there would be essentially "one stop shopping" in this endeavor , but he realized that essentially pioneering a new kind of magic item would have to be, by necessity, an involved process.

"When you say 'battle blood', do you mean blood spilled when fighting an enemy, or would blood from a sparring match work?  And what is comfrey roots?"

"You are very welcome," Lantamori replied to the woman.  "It's what our Guild is here for."

Still trying to figure out how they managed to hug Ooolorn, the elf asked if they should stop somewhere to have the items identified before they headed back to the guild to report their success.

Temple of Pelor



The young acolyte stifles giggles before bowing her thanks.  "Thank you for telling me, Sun's Ray.  It still sounds most exciting and challenging, but not a thing for terror.  I will work hard on my studies at books and at arms so I can try it myself one day!"

--

Temple of Boccob



"I should think any blood spilled in injury should work.  And comfrey is a plant with excellent healing properties, useful to use in making magic items that draw upon healing magic.  You may have to solicit a herb-seller or nature priest for one that large, but I wager you're a resourceful man," Sister Page says after a thoughtful silence.

--

Market Square



Wetly, is the answer to how Ooolorn was hugged.

But as for the magic items, "I can identify them tomorrow for certain, if we're willing to pay for the pearls to do so.  A hundred gold a pearl is what it costs.  I can probably figure the wand and potions out once I've had a chance to sit down and experiment on them, but the ring and figurine will take more powerful magic.  I dislike experimenting on curious things like that, as they are... unpredictable.  Let's go back to the Guildhall, and I can sort out the wand and potions at least."

Back at the Guildhall, and their adventure told, ("Derro?  Good thing you nipped that in the bud, as we don't need a ruddy derro incursion around here.  Bloody folk aren't half mad," is the Guildmaster's opinion, echoed strongly by Thulon), Ooolorn can sort out the potions and wand, while Pelskin gets a better look at the poisons.

"Wand is Tenser's floating disk, fairly new, got 45 uses left.  Good for transporting things, if you aren't in a screaming rush, as it carries a few hundred pounds and floats along behind you.  One potion is haste, one is blur and the last two are light healing potions," Ooolorn says.

Pelskin examines the poison you found and snuffs out through her snout at the smell of it.  "Terinav root paste, this is.  Stiffens you up like a board and leaves you lying there like a log for hours or even days if you're unlucky."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 350):

Bruenor nodded politely, though he raised an eyebrow at what he suspected was a bit of playful sarcasm on the part of the cleric.
"Very well, Sister. I'll come back when I have some of these 'ingredients'."
He went to the Guild Hall, specifically to where they have sparring matches.

"Then you are blessed with a heart of light that banishes terror!" Farian says with a touch of pride, as if that is a trait that the two of them share. "Study well, and may you forever be a light in the darkness!"

Volsh nodded at Narthian while he absentmindedly fingered a new pearl pendant that seemed oddly out of place on him. "So be it then, if you will ensure that I reach the conclave on time, then I will accompany you as you try to remove the pest from Old Rue's girlfriend."

He looked at Ser Aberlayne, "I'll be glad to help deal out some justice once I have undergone my transformation. If I need to, I will catch up to the group. Eagle is swift and strong."

"I'll collect the pearls for your identification," Lantamori said to Ooolorn.  "Once we know what we have, we'll split things up.  We did very well."

"If no one wants the blades, stones, or hairpins, I'll sell those while I'm out."

Given the opportunity, Lantamori will visit the market to purchase the requisite pearls and make the sales.

Dante pays close attention to the Grove-Warden's instructions as they work on the arrows. He'd always been a bit too impatient to fully learn how to make arrows, but knowing the power of these arrows focuses his attention far more than crafting ordinary hunting and war arrows ever did. He wants to do them right, for the lives they will save, and to honor the trust Ehlonna has placed in him to act as Her agent in using them. His prayers in the moonlight are heartfelt.

Before Leaving the Ruby Conclave

Before leaving the Ruby Conclave, Haazheel offers a flower to the sisters and asks them what they think it means.  While the group is having breakfast and preparing to leave, Sister Lar comes back with what they were able to discover:

"From the appearance and the method of delivery, our best sources agree that there is likely a nature spirit, a fey of some kind, who appreciated your efforts to rid the forest of undead.  Likely something like a dryad or nymph.  It is a thank-you and a small mark of favor.  I should think that showing it to a fey would let them see you are someone worth listening to.  Beyond that, I cannot specify without further resources. Speaking to a priest or druid of Ehlonna or Obad-Hai would be a good start, as their knowledge of natural phenomena and fey are much more extensive than ours," she says.

--

Back in Port Lyalee



The best place for sparring matches in the city, at least where one can find the highest density of fighters, in unquestionably the Temple of Kord.  More of a training ground and small arena with a barracks and worship space, the Temple of Kord is a place for people to train in the martial arts, as well as to test themselves against others in athletic contests ranging from running to climbing, throwing to jumping, and of course, fighting.

At nearly every hour but the smallest ones someone in the Temple is likely practicing, and during the day, you might have a dozen or more at once on the grounds, and sometimes much more.  It is much more free-form than the disciplined fighting done by the Temple of Heironeous or Pelor, but one can pick up all kinds of interesting skills there.

This afternoon there are a half-dozen working the pells, four pairs sparring with swords or daggers, and three more getting individual instruction in wrestling.  One free priest, who is wearing little more than a loincloth and weapons' belt in the warm sunshine, along with a holy symbol about his neck, waves at Bruenor with a wide smile.

"Well met, brother!  What challenges bring you here this day?"

--

Guild Row

Volsh is on a mission.  With many rewards and loot stored up, and many things on his mind, he has some things to buy.  A stop at a store called "Small Wonders" nets him one of the things he's looking for.

"Ah yes, a tiny scroll of holy text trapped within the amulet of crystal and iron, meant to enhance one's willpower and wisdom.  A very sound investment for someone in your profession," the middle-aged halfling woman at the counter tells him.  He can pay for that outright, and she'll find him a good, sturdy chain to wear it on.

His second purchase, a magical backpack that won't weigh him down, can be easily found and paid for at the Mages' Guild shopfront, as it is a best-selling item.  But Volsh has more things in mind.

"Gauntlets of Strength and the Horseshoes of a Zephyr?  Certainly we can get those made.  It will take us a little over a week to make them, once we have our payment and collect the necessary ingredients," says the old man, setting the haversack on the counter before running his finger down a ledger.  When Volsh confesses he doesn't have enough upfront, the old man (an iron-haired human, thin and weathered, named Ingor) taps his lips and sorts through some boxes under the counter.

"I know that adventurers' income can be irregular, but you showed me your badge and your Guild standing is good.  What we can do is a joint venture between us and the Goldsmiths' Guild.  I'll write out what you are wanting and your current payment, and then you'll continue to pay us off until we have the amount in full, and then get your items started at once, no additional delay.  The Goldsmiths' Guild will keep your money under lock and key until you pay the full amount, so that keeps everyone honest.  I'll get the contracts prepared by the sixth bell, and you can take a look at them yourself, and sign if you agree.  There will be a small fee of fifty gold pieces for every thousand of the original price for the service.

"Oh!  There is some room for a little personal flair - typically the gauntlets comes with a symbol of strong arms, and the horseshoes with small pictures of blowing wind, but if you have a personal motif you'd prefer, just let me know."

While Volsh himself is not yet up for reading a contract, Haazheel, should he be so kind as to help, will find the contract to be straightforward and with no hidden clauses.

After settling that, he can seek out some potions, two of healing, and one of hiding from the vile undead.  These can be easily obtained from the Temple of Pelor (which unsurprisingly also hosts the Healers' Guild).  A cheerful acolyte will fetch what he needs, the vials marked with Pelor's golden sun symbol.

He also wants a potion to hide from animals, something more easily obtained from the Sacred Grove of Ehlonna. Grove-Warden Shallan can find him what he needs in the form of chopped herbs, nuts, and spices, blessed and held together with crystallized honey.  It somewhat resembles a ration cake, though smaller and carefully molded into the form of a unicorn head.

--

Market Square



Lantamori can find interested buyers for all of her items, selling the blades for 10 gold apiece, the stones easily traded for a 600 gold, and the hairpins making an interesting collection that sells for another 200 gold.  Finding good pearls in Port Lyalee is a bit of a doddle, and she can find a stall bearing the open-oyster mouth of the Diver's Guild and get the precise pearls she needs.

The next morning, Ooolorn will drop pearls into wine, ingest them by pouring them into her familiar (which turns it purple), and contemplate the items.  After a time she comes to herself and announces that, "Most interesting!  The darkmantle is a figurine of wondrous power!  It will turn into a darkmantle upon command, and serve the one who wakened it.  It can be active no more than five hours in a week, and if it is killed, goes back to statue form and can't be used for another week.  Destroy the statue, though, and it is destroyed forever.  The ring is one of earthen kin.  It lets you communicate with plants, and even intelligent ones will be less likely to bring you to harm.  You can also question the ground once a day as to what it has experienced.  Most curious!  But perhaps that explains the shriekers, somewhat, and how the derro were able to move in without notice."

--

Adventurers' Guild



Sir Aberlayne nods at Volsh.  "I'd like to be there when you find your balance, and I know you will give it your best, but I can also find a good job for us to take once you are ready.  How good will that look, to have a friendly werewolf working for the city, eh?  Not that I'd tell them that, mind you, but it'll make a good story-song someday.  At the least, I can talk with this magistrate and figure out where we need to go and be and do by the time everyone gets back."

--

Sacred Grove of Ehlonna



By the time the moonlight fades, the arrows lie sleek and gleaming and deadly upon the moss altar, and the Grove-Warden smiles.  "She has heard our prayers.  May you use them in protection of the green world."

Later that day (possibly after a nap, of which Prreet heartily approves), Averdante can visit the market to pick up several things.  He can find a good blue and red cord that Prreet takes a shine to, to hang his medal upon.  Prreet likes in immensely and spends some time washing it with his tongue so it will shine in the light.

Then he seeks out what he can get to protect himself.  Salt of the Earth Leathers sells fine leather and hide armors of all sorts, some of them from rather exotic hides, several of which are enchanted.  Light leather armor is popular in this warmer climate, and there are varieties of shark, bull, and sunscale fish leather, along with a blue leather armor marked with tiny eyes, and a pale green one marked with miniature snakes.

The Mages' Guild has several protective amulets, such as ones for natural armor, or those of pure arcane protective magic, both in amulet and ring form.  Magic weapons are more often found with the various smiths, such as Honed, which does modifications and enchantments as well as making from scratch, and An Extra Edge, which takes a lot of items in trade.  A simple sword with a minor enchantment to improve is not too hard to find, though there are several variations with unusual hilts: a snow cat, a snarling bear, a kraken, a half-clothed woman (which certainly says something about the person who commissioned such a sword...), an eagle's head, or a tower.  There is also the Lucky Blade, where Bruenor went a few weeks back, which has an interesting assortment of odd blades.

While perusing the market, he does find the old woman and the boy, who are pleased to read his fortune in his hand and with cast runes (for a small donation, of course).  The old woman places her hands on the boy's head, closing her eyes.  The boy takes one of Averdante's hands and grasps a runestone without looking, placing it in his palm.  Then he speaks, his young voice oddly clear.  "Shadows seek shadows, not dead not alive, in revenge they hunt you, only the strong survive!  By bright eyes and light's rays, by moonlight pure and true, strength of arm and strength of mind, will victory come to you!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:43, Sat 23 Nov 2019.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 356):

Bruenor was NOT entirely comfortable with talking to another man while he was wearing naught but a loin cloth.  He gave honors and prayers to Kord occasionally, but he had to admit that Kordites were an odd breed.    Still, they could be useful to him.
He smiled broadly
"I'm on a bit of a quest, Brother.  My name is Bruenor Sedricson, and I'm gathering ingredients for magic item to be used in battle.  And I'm hoping two of.the ingredients might be procured here.
One is linen that has soaked up blood spilled in battle, preferably with the blood still on it, i believe.   And the second is a shield.that, while intact, has also seen battle.  I suspect that a good sparring match would suffice, rather than needing to be from an actual war.
Do you think you can help.me?"

"Are these useful to anyone?" Lantamori asked of the others about the figurine and ring.  She didn't really find them of interest.  The figurine was like the creatures that attacked them in the Firespine caves.  Even a friendly one didn't make them more appealing.

"The rest sold for 840 gold," she added as an afterthought.

Farian realizes that if there is another trip to the Ruby Conclave on order, she had better get a horse! She'll ask Narthian to come along so she can get an expert's opinion on the animal's quality. She knows a little about riding, but nothing about animals. Given the dangers of adventuring, she seeks a horse trained to withstand combat. She has a preference for horses with a white mane and golden-tan coat, but will settle for function over looks.

Light or heavy horse doesn't really matter. Farian's weight (with equipment) will put either into the Medium load category - giving the Light horse only a 5' per round speed advantage. All things considered, Farian will prefer fitness first, coloration second, heavy vs. light last.

Temple of Kord



The priest gives a huge laugh at this.  "You set me light tasks!  Come with me, and tell me of what you're making.  You don't have the look of a magician about you, but people are often surprising.  I'm Brother Xeric Steelsworn, currently fourth in our rankings, though I hope this evening's match will bring me up a notch.  Let's head to the armory."  He will lead you to a large room off the sparring sands, one where most of the room is given over to racks of weapons, some wooden or padded, meant for practice, some ready for real battle.  Armor lines the rest of the walls in racks, from padded to chain to leather to plate.  The rest of the room is given over to any repairs that don't need the actual use of a forge (which you smelled and heard was perhaps down a door or three) - acolytes are polishing and sharpening blades, reweaving chain mail that has missing or damage links, replacing armor straps, reinforcing weak places, or any other little task that needs small skill, patience, and strong fingers.

Brother Xeric goes over to a pile of things yet to be fixed, sorting through a small heap of damaged and worn armor and weapons until he comes up with a pair of buckler shields, hacked and mangled from several heavy blows, and likely would take extensive rehabilitation.

"This happens all the time - get the new ones ready to defend themselves against blades with shields.  And then moving the shield so you don't get hit!  Take them, and welcome to them.  For the linen..."  Brother Xeric looks around, then snatches up a rag near the pile that was being used by those polishing swords.  The rag has some rusty stains on it.  "Blood from an arena bout, polished off the blade.  That should suit, I'd say.  Both are yours for two things - tell me what you're making, and..."  He sits astride a bench, leans forward and places his elbow on top, opening his hand.  "An arm-wrestling bout!"

--

The Adventurers' Guildhall



"Well that's a tidy sum," Thulon said with a grin.  "I'm fair certain I can defend myself, so I don't have much need for the darkmantle figure.  But the ring, that's fair nice for an old dwarf who could use some extra ears and eyes for scouting. But I'm not wedded to it."

"Whereas I am small and squishy, and could use a protector for those times when I don't have a sturdy dwarf to hide behind.  The darkmantle has much use for me," Ooolorn says, spreading her tentacles wide within her familiar.

"If you would rather have gold, Thulon, I like the ring!  Anything that makes me a better scout, yes?  I get more contracts that way.  Not as many who hire kobolds," Pelskin says, looking eager.  Thulon chuckles.

"More gold for me, then.  Take the ring, Pelskin, and make your fortune grow," Thulon says.

In exchange for the valuable magical items, Pelskin and Ooolorn forfeit their share of the gold, leaving Thulon and Lantamori to split it atwixt them.

"This was a nice little jaunt, and a good thing we've done.  I'd work with any of you again.  I'll be around for the next little bit, until I find a group again, so leave a message if you find something interesting!" Thulon says, getting up from the table.

"I live within a day of the coast, always, and usually around here, as they don't find me odd.  But yes, this was a good adventure!  Best of luck to you all," Ooolorn oozes off her chair and gives a languid wave.

"Thanks for taking a chance on me.  Don't get many as you'd think.  See you around!"  Pelskin gives Lantamori a toothy grin and goes to scuttle off to the job board to see if anything has been posted recently.

--

Killdagger Stables



If Narthian is amenable, Killdagger Stables is a busy and prosperous business, with a leather shop on the side refurbishing and selling saddles, bridles, saddlebags, horse blankets, leather barding, and other tack accessories.  There are two long stables, and you hear some occasionally nickers and whinnies coming out of them.  You're met by a cheerful older human woman with sun-tanned skin and dark brown hair and eyes, her hair caught back in a neat braid.  Upon hearing Farian's need for a mount for adventuring (and her preferences), she smiles broadly.

"Yes, of course!  We have quite a few adventurers passing through or based out of here, so we have several for sale.  I'm Cenna Talls, and my family's from Crosston, so I've been breeding and training horses since I could toddle," she says, smiling.  She assesses Farian by eye as she gestures for them to come with her to the left side stable.  "I think you'd do better with a heavy warhorse, just for steadiness in the field, as you wear heavier armor, but I do have some light mounts as well.  I have three heavy and two light at the moment."  She walks down the stables, touching each of the stalls as she describes the mounts.

"Sally is a nice little mischief-maker, and likes to gallop any excuse you'll give her.  Good for getting you into, or out of, trouble quickly."  Sally is a light warhorse with strawberry roan coloring, who lips Cenna's clothing and tries to nibble on her braid.

The next is a buckskin gelding, another light warhose, placidly dozing in the sun.  "Buck is his name, steady as they come.  Not given to nerves or shying for silly reasons.  Can doze through a thunderstorm once he's under cover."

The next three are heavy warhorses a tall one with blue coloration, a dark brown with white feet and a black mane and tail, and one with a hide, mane, and tail the color of parchment.

"Our tall boy is Walker.  He's got a stride as smooth as silk and a wicked range on his hooves if something vexes him.  Vain as two cats, and loves to be brushed.  Avalanche is the one with the white feet," Cenna says, and ducks into his stall to tap his knee and holds one of his hooves. Avalanche's hooves are big as her head, easily!  "He's got draft horse blood in him, and has got endurance for a long march in even the worse weather.  Now Ghost here on the end is a bit nervy, but he's got a nose for danger like no horse I've ever seen.  We got him from an adventuring party who lost some of their number, and Ghost was their dead friend's mount.  I think this boy has something to prove.

"Now Sally and Buck will go for 150 gold each.  Walker and Avalanche 400 gold each.  Ghost for 300, as I can only vouch for what I've seen of him, and not of his breeding.  His training is sound and he's healthy, but I don't know his lineage," she says.  "Which of these beauties calls to you, Sun's Ray?"

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 360):

Bruenor chuckled a bit as they walked towards the armory.
"To say I'm not Magician is an understatement.  In fact, up until recently I tried to avoid meddling with magical shenanigans with extreme prejudice.  But as I got out of my small circle of friends and began to explore the wider world, I saw the uses and helpfulness of magic, at least in small doses.  And after some harrowing adventures with some very dependable wizards and a trusted cleric, I have started to see how good magic can be...in controlled amounts.
It's a pleasure to meet you, Brother Xeric."

At the armory, he smiled at his good fortune. He'd presumed that this place would be a treasure trove for him, but he hadn't truly believed.
When he heard the "price", he smiled wryly.  He wasn't normally one to talk about his business to everyone, but he supposed it was only fair.
"I'm working with Sister Jandra Page, over at the Boccob Temple, on a Belt that can be worn by a warrior in battle, and can be used to heal you after or even during the battle."
He added quickly
"Not during a duel or any fair contest, of course, but when fighting dishonorable foes, like undead priests or cave monsters, it might help keep one alive until they can finish their foes to protect their Traveling Companions."
When he saw the man challenge him to arm wrestling, he chuckled ruefully and shrugged.
"I'm no wrestler by vocation, but perhaps an old fashioned sword jockey like me can give you a challenge for a few seconds."

He sat down opposite Brother Xeric and clasped the man's hand.
When they got the signal, he did his best to win.
OOC:04:11, Today: Bruenor Sedricson rolled 12 using 1d20+3.  arm wrestling.
Looking back, he's wished he'd warmed up more first.

After wishing the others well in their journeys, Lantamori waited for the others to return at the guild hall.  Spending her time grooming Cloud and wandering about town.

Narthian gladly joins Farian, but leaves Thunder outside the stables at first. He listens to what Farian is looking for, and evaluates each steed in accordance to the criteria. He shares his opinion with Farian, and once she offers a preference, sets the final test. Empathically telling Thunder that the hunt is up, he howls for his companion and watches to see which horse panics and which stands ready as the large, hunting wolf trots in.

Edit:
Rolls to evaluate the horses, if needed. They could be Handle Animal or Knowledge (Nature) as both are +10. Rolls in the order that the horses were introduced. 16:28, Today: Narthian Goldleaf rolled 25,21,22,15,26 using d20+10,d20+10,d20+10,d20+10,d20+10 ((15,11,12,5,16)).
This message was last edited by the player at 22:31, Wed 27 Nov 2019.

Farian greets Cenna warmly, then listens to the description of each horse. A laugh escapes her when Walker's vanity is described. "Surely he'd give Dante's Prreet and run for the money there!" she says to Narthian. She's drawn to the parchment colored horse, but frowns at the name. "By Saint Bane's Fork," she swears under her breath. "Who in their right mind would name such a creature after a restless spirit?" she asks rhetorically, and in a mood much removed form the earlier laughter. She faces Cenna, fidgets impatiently, and asks, "Is the horse married to the name? I mean, does it come to call? What if we modified the name - Ghost's Bane or something like that?" It's obvious that she doesn't want to retrain it. Narthian might even see her fingering her holy symbol, as she often does before casting a spell.

In the spirit of keeping things moving (I'm dying to see the results of Narthian's test) -- she has obvious preferences for Buck and Walker, unless Ghost can be renamed. Or even partially renamed. Then he's also in the mix. The spell she's considering is Detect Evil - focused initially on Ghost.

The Temple of Kord



Brother Xeric and Bruenor claps their hands and strain to make the other's knuckles touch the wood of the bench.  They waver back and forth for a little while, neither man yielding, but then Brother Xeric's elbow slips slightly, he loses a good angle, and Bruenor takes the opportunity to bear down and bring the big man's hand all the way over.  With a grunt and a good-natured curse, Brother Xeric yields and lets go.

"I shall have to lift more sandbags tonight to make myself better!  A well-fought wager, Bruenor.  I like the sound of what you're getting made, so perhaps I shall call upon Sister Page sometime later, if it works out well.  Sounds like a good thing to use when facing sneaky, evil sorts!  Best of luck to you, and come back sometime if you care to test your mettle in the arena," Brother Xeric says, giving Bruenor a backslap that probably would have sent Dellas head-over-heels across the room.


--

Adventurers' Guildhall



Cloud is happy for the attention, nuzzling at Lantamori and snuffling her pockets for treats.

Around town there is a low buzz about the upcoming trial, which has some people worried and others highly agitated.  As a member of one of the Guilds was caught smuggling and caused a horrible incident in the Market Square, some are wondering if the Guild will try to sweep it aside, if they will disown him, try to fight for him, or let the trial determine the outcome before dispensing Guild penalties.  There is some grumblings from people, as those who are in the Guilds are concerned that Selbian Dross might have acted with the backing, if ever so subtle, of the Mages' Guild, threatening the standing of the Guild system as a whole, and those who stand outside the Guilds wonder if it is time to do away with the system entirely so people are free to do as they wish.  It is a prickly time, both in politics and sympathies.

--

Killdagger Stables



Narthian examines each of the horses with skill developed in handling much more skittish animals, testing their temperament in ways that Cenna has never learned.

Sally is very headstrong, and may test her rider quite a bit, so getting her to do what Farian wants may take a firm hand.  Her training seems sound, but impetuous youth doesn't like to bow beneath the necessities of duty.  She dances a little at Thunder's approach, but settles down to snorting at him and eyeing him carefully.

Buck is indeed very steady and calm, but so much so that he might be slower to react to danger and not as quick in a fight.  Some might count that an asset, particularly if they are a nervous rider.  He doesn't react to Thunder at all.

Walker is precisely as advertised, vain, and would enjoy being brushed thrice a day if his owner would be so indulgent.  Likely he'll take dust baths when he can to increase his likelihood of getting his desired grooming.  But his gait is very, very smooth, so could easily carry a wounded or semi-conscious rider strapped into the saddle.  He eyes Thunder warily, and blows out a few times, but stays still.

Avalanche is steady, sturdy, and with draft blood can carry a very large load without protest.  His size will certainly make him intimating, particularly with a bit of barding and an impressively-armed rider on his back. He will also eat more than an average warhorse, so will need to be supplemented with grain very often to keep up his strength.  He nickers slightly at Thunder, seemingly pleased by the wolf being there.

Ghost is indeed nervy; likely nothing will get past the picket line with him there.  He bears a few small scars along his pale hide. The scars look like perhaps an arrow graze, and a light raking of claws... though not from a bear or large cat.  At your best guess, the claw scars look like they came from sharp human fingers.  A ghoul, perhaps, or something like it, which might explain Ghost's nerviness and the reason his first owner perished.  Ghost would likely react strongly to actual undead. (Though whether he'd attack or flee is not quite certain.)  He snorts at Thunder, snuffles him all over, snorts again, and then leaves him be with a sort of decisiveness as if he were saying, Ah, that is a normal wolf but it doesn't want to eat me.  That's all right then.



Cenna gives a small shrug about Ghost's name.  "What his old owners told me was that he used to be called Thunder, like your friend's wolf, and he was a dapple gray.  But after what happened to his owner, which they didn't get into detail about, he went ghost-white overnight.  Been that way ever since. I don't believe they meant it malevolently, just in the way of spooky stories."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 365):

Bruenor wasn't the type to exercise extensively.    He had loathed the calisthenics back at.the castle for all men at arms.
So.he had presumed that he'd be easily bested by the High Priest of Wrestling.

But, he mused with a wry grin, perhaps swinging his sword at every foul beastie from here to the ocean shore was better exercise than he'd realized.
"The pleasure was all mine, Brother.  And i look forward to having some free time to spend around real sportsmen in this town.   Farewell to you!"
Pleased with himself, Bruenor headed back.to the temple.to drop off his first ingredients.

Narthian shares what he learns of the horses, including Ghost's scars and their probable origins, then sums up. "Like all companions, the each have their strengths and weaknesses." Thunder looses a 'rrruuf' of disagreement. "I'd probably stay away from Sally. Maybe Avalanche, unless you also want to get a spare baggage horse to carry the extra food. I like that Gh... the pale one... has been renamed once already. I'll gladly help reinforce any name you give him. Or... I could ask him tomorrow."

"Thank you, Narthian," she says, but her eyes are sympathetically affixed to the pale horse. She approaches the horse, one hand upon the gleaming symbol of Pelor, the other outstretched. "[Language unknown: M ne hi ereantthethu. Re yinom ame sichst wilourour allic behe trlo na tiowh ainsomoul, man werca prvir neho romse foma po na verut.]" She speaks in a comforting tone, running her hand from the neck down to the scars. She seems to be sorting through a thousand thoughts as once. When she comes to a decision, her voice takes on the tone of a preacher. "[Language unknown: Itaipe Ardonever yin Fiseni Nti was llol eveesstic om! M estersnceinthis ssee. Setcomman caic os n chouwiof acpo Ar wipl p ou! Preousera laera me loac ratughrea onver u korconhas k tros Ardredare!]" She looks at Narthian and Cenna, a huge smile on her face. "Behold Lux Aurea! The Golden Light! A comet shining bright within the Light of the Shining One! Together we will face the Night and banish it!"

"Yes, I hope that it will come in handy in the very near future..." he said with a hearty smile, even if it was a confusing response.



Volsh nodded and signed the documents after Haazheel had had a chance to review them. "All of that works for me. Thanks for working with me. As for markings...?" he shrugged and conintued, "for the gauntlets perhaps some stylized wolves in place of arms. For the horseshoes, eagles over winds blowing. Those will do."

He handed over what ready cash he had to spare for these projects. "This should be 500 down for each and the pre-payment of the fee to hold this money and projects until I can pay in full."

"I hope to have you the full amount... well soon enough."



He paid for each of his potions and thanked the acolytes at each location before returning to the Guildhall to meet with the others.

A pat on the back for Haazheel's help with his contract and a nod to others as they gathered.

"Well, have we found out the details on the smuggler's job? Can it push a week or so or does the stress of the town mean it needs to be started tomorrow? I'm all set to go visit Old Rue and meet him, give him some things in thanks for what he did for me."

Trying to decide whether he needs enchanted armor, or simply an amulet with a protective enchantment on it, Dante also considers buying an enchanted blade. Even as poorly as he weilds one, the recent journey had impressed on him that he needed some way other than his bow to harm the more unnatural monsters. The blade with the snowcat hilt interested him at the one shop, but he also found the Phase Blade interesting as well, moon-bound as it was. A theme of cats could become iconic, should he gain a significant measure of fame, but a lunar focus could end up advertising a dangerous weakness....

He was pleased to find the old woman and boy he'd noted before near the market, too. They were a trail that had been unneeded in the search for Pearl, but he still thought them a contact worth making... and people in need of an extra bit of kindness.

He's not expecting the fortune they give him, though, and grows pale hearing it. No question it was a true foretelling, and the thought of having made such an enemy is rather alarming. He's a little distracted as he drops a half a dozen gold coins into the bowl in front of them. "Thank you for the warning, Elder, child," he tells them, giving each a nod. "I am grateful to have it." Even if it does leave him chilled in a way the warm sunlight cannot touch.

Unsettled, he retires to the guildhall for the remainder of the day, thinking over a glass or two of good wine.

In the morning, he's up early while the sun is bright in the sky, to return to Salt of the Earth Leathers and find out more about their enchanted armor. He's particularly interested in the one with the eyes; it's a little creepy, but blue is his favored color. After that, he revisits An Extra Edge, to investigate the possibility of getting the snow cat sword enchanted.

He'll probably end up back at the Mage's Guild eventually, but he hasn't quite decided what it is he wants, yet.  And he'll go back to Ehlonna's Glade later, too, to use the comfortable familiarity of a forest around him to think, and to pray. For the time being though, he gets Mask from the stables and goes for a ride on the beach, seeking the distraction of new sights and exercise in the sunlight to burn off the chill from his bones.