"Mayon...Graycross." The half-elf greeted, still a bit puzzled by the man's strangely archaic way of speaking. He nodded at Morg's description of their purpose for travel, but still couldn't help but stare.

The man considers Morg's question a moment before replying. "I am Huet, of the Feathergale Knights," the knight replies formally, with a flourishing bow. He gestures to the north, towards a thin spire just visible in the fading twilight. "The Feathergale Spire there is my demesne, and that of my comrades."

"I know naught of any delegation from Mirabar or elsewhere. These graves," he indicates the nearby crude stone piles, "I also know nothing of. They hath no consequence to my sacred duty to keep this section of the hills safe from marauding beasts and monsters."

"Mayhap my fellows will know something of this delegation. E'en you like, ye may accompany me as I return my mount to the Spire. Methinks she may need a rest, as the Ogre has wounded her grievously." With a slight nod, he moves off to gather up his flying mount.

"Tarry a moment more!" he calls out to the assembled, "whilst I collect my rightful trophy from today's labors." Striding back to the corpse of the ogre, he cleanly slides off the creature's head with a swift downward strike of his longsword, then collects its head in a sack from his mount's saddlebag. Once again wiping his sword clean and collecting his gem from the clenched fist of the dead ogre, he motions to the group to accompany him north, if they wish.

---

Now that the knight points it out, a thin spire is indeed visible to north - map updated.

Morg turns to the party and says, "Should we go ask at this Spire? We can also follow up on Brother Eahdon's comment about the delegation wanting to bury a knight at Summit Hall. We could go due east across the river to the Hall, and try to find out if the delegation made it there."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:44, Wed 27 Sept 2017.

"It's the best lead we have at the moment." Mayon agrees, his own eyes focused on the spire. He was curious about the knight, and the formation looked intriguing.

Jak listened to the Feathergale Knight, as he called himself. He had heard of flying bandits so he wasn't so quick to swallow the strange archaic language and the seemingly-politeness and knighthood. It could all be true...or it could all be a carefully-crafted lie.

Yes, Jak was a little jaded.

He smiled outwardly, however, and gave a nod. "Well, I guess it's nice t'meet ya then. I'm Jakgrynn, uh, of Redgate." The others seemed to want to go along with him to the spire, so he gave a small shrug. "Sure. Why not?"


23:24, Today: Secret Roll: Jakrynn Redgate rolled 21 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 17.  Knight Insight.

Huet holds the reins of his wounded mount and motions the group to accompany him north. "Well met, Jakgrynn," he replies. "Shalt we depart then, to stay ahead of the coming fall of night?" He begins leading his mount north, between two low hills ahead.

The hills are lower here on the edge of the Sumber Hills region, but increase steadily in height as the group progresses north. Rocks and scrub brush make the footing uneven and difficult in the dim light, though Bram's glowing orb makes the going easier. Chirps of birds and insects give way to the croaking of frogs, and the faint smell of burning embers floats on the air.

"Pray, do watch thou footing here," Huet advises as the group is perhaps a half mile away from the Spire ahead. "There beist a steep vale to the right, the Sighing Valley is't called, which you shant want to fall into unawares." As the group's path winds closer to the valley, the faint gurgling of rushing water is audible, and several rock spires are visible rising from the canyon floor far below. A faint howling noise rises with the frequent breeze that flows through the canyon.

For several more minutes, Huet leads the group closer to the Spire, skirting the edge of the valley's cliffs. Feathergale Spire rises from a pillar of rock high into the air ahead. Even in the faint light of evening it resembles a gleaming sword that pierces the sky, its white limestone and marble exterior reflecting the light.

A gatehouse faces the near side of the cliff, and Huet leads the group towards the drawbridge which is the tower's only apparent point of entry. Tall, wide windows encompass the bottom level of the tower, absent only upon the gatehouse side. Flickering light shines from many of the windows, revealing at least three upper levels to the tower.

Below the drawbridge, a circle of open stalls rings the tower's foundation where it meets the rock. Above each stall, the sculpture of a hippogriff in flight leaps from the tower's base, lit by flickering torches set just inside the stalls at regular intervals.

---

Map locations updated.

If anyone would like to interact with Huet or do anything else on the path to the Spire, go ahead and post that & we can resolve what comes of that. Otherwise, Huet will lead you up to the gatehouse & I'll post what happens next after that.


This message was last edited by the GM at 16:08, Sat 30 Sept 2017.

"Do you know anything about Summit Hall to the east?" Morg says to Huet as they travel north.

"Also, would it be possible for us to have a look at any maps of the hills you have at the Spire? Especially for routes between Summit Hall and Red Larch."

"Maps would be a most useful gift," Asano says, following the knight's lead. Do you or your brethren know aught of the upheaval in this valley?" His eyes roam across the horizon, watchful for any more surprises.


OOC:
Perception- 6
Persuaasion- 6

This message was last edited by the player at 20:52, Tue 03 Oct 2017.

Huet looks at Morg askance as he addresses Summit Hall. "I am aware of the Knights of Samular, they who dwell at Summit Hall, Master Dwarf," Huet replies, "though I know none of them personally."

"I have no maps of the Hills, alas, as the land is all laid out before a mounted Knight of Feathergale. Summit Hall liest on the Dessarin Road, verily, but I knowst no direct route from Red Larch there. South to the Ironford or north to Beliard are the only two routes I know by road. Mine own flying mount is superior to both, of course. Air travel beist superior to any other. Mayhap Commander Merosska will have a map or more knowledge than I."

Addressing Asano, Huet sighs. "Aye, the Sumber Hills are troubled of late. The hunting has been treacherous, as e'en dangerous monsters have wiped out the beasts most worthy of collecting for trophies. Thee all witnessed the attack of that Ankheg - there be worse in the deep Sumber Hills. And evil groups of men and women, aye, that we Feathergale Knights stand against."

---

Asano sees no other movement in the skies, lit now by a cloud-covered moon. He does spy some movement in one of the stalls below the drawbridge of the tower, which might be another large mount.

A rough trail develops as the group approaches the tower, and the way forward becomes quite steep. The wind breezes through the canyon below at frequent intervals, and a haunting sigh echos through the valley.

The group makes their way around a particularly steep switchback and the white spire again becomes visible, a thin layer of fog drifting in at its base from the surrounding canyon. The tower gleams in the faint moonlight, seeming as though it floats on a sea of clouds amid the few stars that have begun appearing in the sky. The summits of the surrounding hills rise above the fog like islands in that sea.

Huet glances back at the group, then moves a bit away, soothing his wounded mount. Pointing at the tower, he encourages the reluctant mount forward. Hesitantly, the giant vulture tests its wounded wing. Gamely it launches itself into the air with a sharp cry of pain, and makes its way tentatively through the air to one of the stables near the base of the tower. Handlers meet it and bring it inside.

Huet turns to his newfound companions. "Forsooth, I had hoped that the beast would still be flight-worthy. My heart is buoyed - it shall recover."

Continuing on the path, the group can see a significant gap of around twenty feet separates the ledge where the path ends from the closed drawbridge on Feathergale Spire. The space between cliff's edge and the gatehouse drops several hundred feet into darkness. Near the ledge, a brass bell hangs from a wooden post. Huet moves to ring the bell, and its echo rings out in the cooling air. "'Tis I, Huet Hughson, returning from patrol, with visiting guests with business for the Lord Commander".

A small window near the gate opens and a female voice calls out, "Lower the drawbridge!" A few seconds later, the drawbridge creaks into motion, and slowly descends towards the waiting party on the cliff's edge.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:31, Tue 03 Oct 2017.

Jak pulled a bit back from the knight and opened his mouth to say something to his comrades, but then he realized he didn't know how good the hearing was on the knight. So better not to risk it, he decided. He would let them know later on. He wasn't sure what they would be able to do about it anyway.

Something about the knight, and his strange speech patters, bugged Jak a bit. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He wasn't sure if the knight was deliberately talking in a weird way, either as a joke or to confuse them or something else - or if that was really the way he talked and acted. But he seemed okay, at a glance and a listen, so maybe it was nothing.

When the giant vulture was able to take off and Huet was happy, Jak just hesitated and then nodded. "Ah, good! I'm glad." He watched the beast fly off to what he assumed was a stable or nest for it, and people of some sort came out to help it.

He looked around as they got closer to their destination and reached a drawbridge and gatehouse. He tried to look nonchalant and friendly as he waited.

The drawbridge lowers to the far side of the gap, resting on the ground at their feet with a soft thud. Huet begins to cross the bridge towards a pair of massive double doors leading into the tower, which open slowly as he approaches.

A waifish-looking elven knight peers out as she secures the doors open, glancing in curiousity at Huet's companions. After a sharp intake of breath, she exclaims, "Asano?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:06, Wed 04 Oct 2017.

Mayon stiffens a bit as they cross the bridge, pausing a bit from a sudden flash of vertigo and shaking his head. He never had been fond of heights, but this was a bit sudden. He took a slow breath, closing and reopening his eyes to clear his mind before following, a bit warier than he had been before. When the female elf approaches and greets Asano, he gives the sorcerer a surprised look, wondering if this was the woman he'd drunk himself into a stupor about.

Morg relaxes a bit when he sees the elf addressing Asano, and leaves some space for the two of them as he crosses the drawbridge.

As the group approaches the open doorway to the tower, the elven knight takes in Asano's reaction, then turns to Huet. "I think your mount must have been wounded, yes? You'll probably want to see to it in the stables." Huet nods. "Then I'll bring your companions up to see the Lord Commander."

As Morg crosses the drawbridge he looks over the hippogriff sculptures to try to figure out their origin.

---

06:39, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 4 [if disadvantage (e.g. due to darkvision only) or 8 if not] using 2d20+3, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 5,1.  Perception check (possibly with disadvantage) looking at hippogriff sculptures.
06:39, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 6 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 2.  Stonecunning check regarding origin of stonework of hippogriff sculptures.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:42, Fri 06 Oct 2017.

Huet bows to the group and takes his leave, entering the tower. He tosses the sack containing the ankheg head to a leather clad attendant and hurries into the tower.

Up close, Savra's skin gleams in the moonlight, her large green eyes framed by delicate elven features. Her armor-clad body seems sturdy but reed thin, and her waist seems impossibly tiny, even for an elf.

She beckons the group to follow her into the entrance hall.

---

The hippogriff sculptures seem no different than the rest of the tower, which up close shows some signs of significant wear. It's no recent construction.

Walking towards the entrance hall, Morg keeps an eye out for movement behind any arrow slits or thru brattices, and tries to see if the spire's design looks elvish.

---

04:52, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 5 [if disadvantage (e.g. due to darkvision only) or 14 if not] using 2d20+3, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 2,11.  Perception check (possibly with disadvantage for low light) for danger from arrow slits or brattices.
04:52, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 14 using 1d20 with rolls of 14.  History check, is the spire's design elvish?

Morg and the group enter the tower through massive twelve-foot-tall double doors. The entrance is a thirty-foot-long hall of white stone. At the opposite end of the hall are two doors twinned to those of the entry gate.

Gazing around, Morg and the other see an eagle carved from a massive timber hanging from the far side of the ceiling, suspended on strong chains. Slender wings of steel sweep close to its sides. Its head is also fashioned of steel.

Savra pauses to speak with one of the leather-clad attendants near the far doors, then turns to beckon the group onward.

---

No arrow slits or brattices are evident, though it seems the timber hanging from the ceiling resembles a battering ram. Morg knows that elves generally don't design towers like this one.

A single wooden door banded with iron is visible in the wall to the right as the group approaches the double doors on the far side of the entrance hall. Savra opens it to reveal a twenty-foot square central chamber with a spiral staircase, leading both up and down. Savra indicates the group should follow her up, grabbing the nearby handrail.

"The Lord Commander will be at the feast, which should start soon. You're all welcome to join us - we're celebrating the Feathergale Society's tenth year!"

On hearing about the celebration, Morg becomes even more suspicious and tries to figure out from Asano's special lady friend's tone and body language if she might be leading them into a trap.

He follows her up the staircase, keeping an eye out for possible ambush spots.

---

12:06, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 16 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 15.  Insight check on Savra - is she leading us into a trap?
12:06, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 4 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 1.  Perception check for possible ambush spots.

Bram and Dwee hang back, then Bram clears his throat. "I think I will travel back with Dweeble here to a civilized town, in search of some replacement glasses. I'm afraid I'm quite useless without them, and Dweeble has kindly agreed to accompany me. Hopefully I'll catch up with you in a few days. If not, farewell."

Bram inclines his head, Dweeble makes an awkward dip in an attempt at following suit, and the duo heads toward the exit. Savra waits patiently at the foot of the staircase.

---

New map - see Maps & Stuff Thread.

Three more wooden doors are visible in the stairwell on this level, though the small central room with the staircase is otherwise empty.



This message was last edited by the GM at 22:45, Mon 09 Oct 2017.

Jak gave Huet a cautious nod as he left them. These knights were strange if Huet was anything to judge by. He gawked slightly at all the sculptures, and discreetly admired Savra's exotic looks as well. He perked up at the mention of a feast. Food was good, free food was even better!

He raised an eyebrow, though. "Ten years?" He blinked. "I mean no offense but...I've never even heard o'your group, an' they've been goin' for ten years? How come there're no stories floatin' 'round about you?"

He stopped when Bramwell and Dweeble said they were going to take their leave. Jak was floored. He stuttered slightly, took a breath and then quietly wished them safe journey. He would miss them, both of them if he was being honest. He frowned after them for a moment before turning slowly back to follow Savra. Now the feast would hopefully also serve the purpose of lifting his spirits back up.

Asano stiffens in surprise as he recognizes Savra. "Savra? It's been a while," he says, his voice holding some small tone of melancholy to it. "How have you been? When did you join this troupe?" He follows her closely, noting her slight frame and near-luminous skin. "I wouldn't have expected to find you this far from home."


OOC:
Insight- 15
Watching for any signs of danger or deceit in her answers or body language.

"Oh, I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us. We don't seek out fame or fortune, merely adventure and excitement," Savra replies girlishly to Jak's question. "Many of the knights are nobility from Waterdeep, who enjoy flying, the outdoors, and danger."

Her eyes turn more serious as she looks at Asano, and pauses on the stairs. Waiting for the others to ascend ahead of her, she speaks with Asano in lower tones. "I've been well, Asano," she begins, her large eyes looking into his. "I've been here about five months now, and it seems like home now. The Society is very welcoming and rewarding. I've learned so very much."

Her steps slow, forcing Asano to nearly a dead stop on the stair. "I had to leave, after - well, after what happened," she continues. "I guess you left before I did, but I'm sure you know that Elessina disappeared around the time of Triarbor's razing. I just couldn't bear to be around her family, and all the recriminations of her spending time with the half-elves. Things got quite uncomfortable, after."

She sighs sadly, then perks up with a thought for the larger group. "I just remembered, we have other guests for the feast too! When you get to the next level just gather by the door so I can walk in first and announce you to the Society, and introduce you around!" The stairs above open into another small interior stairwell, with twin wooden doors the only visible exit on the second floor.

---

Map updated.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:38, Wed 11 Oct 2017.