You set out from the city of Newmarket at dawn.  Before evening fell, you could see the Long Falls, a great waterfall that descends the face of the cliff atop which one can find the old city.  After staying the evening in the hamlet of Thorham (one of the local farmers let you use the barn for a single silver coin), you set out the next day, your destination clearly visible.  As you drew closer, the the Falls became audible, growing to a low rumble as you approached.  Nearer still, and you could see the statues of Arden and Vul carved into the cliffside, each at least a thousand feet high and still not reaching anywhere near the top of the cliff.  On the left is Arden, the warrior, her sword blade pointed down and her left hand extended, palm up.  On the right is the sorcerer Vul, a staff cradled in the crook of his arm, whose gaze seems to follow your every move.



As you follow the road to the base of the cliff, you find your first destination: the Long Stair.  As its name suggests, this set of stairs is carved into the cliff and snakes its way to the top.  You knew it was here, and yet, seeing it in person, reaching to almost unfathomable heights and slick from the mist created by the Long Fall, you can't help but find yourselves intimidated.

Still, you didn't come this far just to turn back now.

Axel stares at the carved image of Vul as they move closer to the steps, lost in his own thoughts.  He stops and kneels down at the base of the falls where the water gently laps at the shore using his hand as a ladle to scoop up several gulps of the water.  The mist of the falls was beginning to cause his fine silk robe of turquoise to cling to his body.  "Grab a drink," he suggests to his companions,  "The statues are said to be 1,000 feet high, and the cliff itself looks to be half that height again.  Best guess is we've got several thousand feet of stairs ahead of us."

Axel deducted 1sp to pay the farmer at Thorham for the previous nights lodging.

Sil'qian marvels at the vista, the waterfall is as amazing to him as the statues carved into the cliff face.

"You are right Axel, it will be a long walk up those stairs...my knees are aching just from the thought!"

He continues to stare at he cliff face as he methodically ensures all of his gear is secure and all straps are tight.

"There is something odd about the statues, don't you think? Vul is as you would expect, standing up tall. But Arden is almost kneeling, her sword is not at the ready, and her hand is out, as if she is reaching for something. If we passed close by, I would be most interested in exploring her hand. But it appears that the stairs switchback away from it.

Another time, perhaps?"

Looking around as his companions prepare for the ascent, he asks, "Shall I lead?"

Tybalt, known in certain circles by the nickname Walker, an appellation earned from a stride that never seemed to falter, no matter the distance, the footing, nor the clime, stood near to a knightly sort in quiet discussion. After a moment, he nodded and then responded to his companions, "You've sharp eyes friend elf, doesn't it look as if the statue is offering a hand up the cliff as one might assist another to mount a tall horse? Most curious..."

"Further, to my eye, yonder depressions almost look like cavern openings, there you see it near the second switchback? And harken your gaze across on the opposite side of the falls, there seems to me to be another possible opening there! I concede that it's difficult to tell from this vantage, and more often than not, those sorts of depressions are simply that, going back only far enough to create a shadow... but, it might well be worth taking a peek at them at some point in our explorations."

"What do you think my liege?" Walker asked the knightly man who seemed to gazing with no small amount of approval at his reflection in the water.

The scout deliberately broke the image with his waterskin, filling it with the cold water.

"Oh my," Brian pulls back his hood, and gazes at the cliff with both eyes, "it is much more rewarding to view this place with my own eyes, than it was to have read of it. What must have gone through the minds of those artists, who were dedicated to creating these images? I wonder what other marvels lie within."

Following after Axel's suggestion, Brian stares up the sheer cliff and silently gulps. "Well, a long trek was certainly expected. Said trek challenges us in this very moment." He clutches a pewter seed hanging from his neck, and utters a silent prayer.

He listens intently to the observations made by the others. "Mysteries abound... mysteries which may well be uncovered once we climb up these stairs. We could perhaps observe the palm of Arden from higher up. It might be a place of worship, or a hidden abode. It might altogether be found bare, in this time. And there may indeed be other paths within the cliff."

Brian turns to Sil'qian and nods. "Let us begin our ascent."

"Well, you hear tales of all sorts of things, but this is impressive.  One rarely sees that sort of beautiful stonework.  very nicely done indeed."

Zuru goes over and gulps down some water, looks back towards the future climb, down at his legs, back at the heights, and sighs.

Steeling yourselves for a long trek, the six of you begin your ascent up the Long Stair.  The stairs are slick with mist, and while most of you are able to keep your footing with relative ease, the less dextrous among you find things a bit more challenging.

Durke, roll 2d6.

20:06, Today: DM Maleketh, on behalf of Durke Aldiron, rolled 8 using 2d6.

As Durke places one of his feet on the next step, it slips out from under him.  He crashes to the ground, only the fact that you're at the second switchback (and therefore there isn't far for him to fall) saves him from serious injury - though his pride may be another matter.

Axel can't help but let out a snigger as the paladin lands on his arse.  He turns away to save himself from bursting out laughing when he sees the man isn't hurt, quickly disguising the snigger as a light coughing fit.

Yeah I know it's sad, I'd probably do the same in real life, even more-so if the companion wasn't hurt and they were a friend.

Sil'qian pulls up and turns, at the sound of Durke yelling out; the elf tenses to spring into action, but quickly relaxes when he sees that the paladin is not hurt. "The steps are slick, shall we slow our pace?"

Brian shoots a disapproving glance at Axel when he laughs, but the feeling is undercut by his own lips rising at the ends.

Moving closer to Durke to check for injuries, he comments, "Careful, man."

Being this close to a waterfall, the stairs were naturally slick. Their edges were round from years of being molded by the waters. The adventurers had been moving with caution, but accidents happen, and one just did.

Moving slowly was key in long treks such as this, "but how slow can we get before we end up spending far too much time on these stairs?"

It would be dark in a couple of hours.

"Lookout!" Tybalt warned, but it was too late, his charge had slipped and nearly fallen toward the escarpment base far below. The lanky ranger extended a hand and helped Durke back to his feet, holding on only long enough to make sure the knight had his footing before releasing. Tybalt knew this would be particularly humiliating to the man since, of them all, he was the only one to slip.

"My apologies Sir Durke, I should have pointed out that slick spot..." Tybalt said, giving Durke an avenue to place blame somewhere other than his own clumsiness.

Before Durke could answer, Tybalt responded to the elf, "No, I think Sir Durke has ably shown us that we need to be more careful, but let's not spend overly long out here, exposed as we are. I'd rather not get caught out here during a sudden storm or even an attack... Continue onward Sil'qian, we'll all pay a little more heed from here on."

As Tybalt extends a hand to the holy warrior to assist him to his feet Axel suddenly bursts out "Gecko feet!" like the idea has suddenly come to him.  He remembers himself and by way of explanation or apology for his outburst, he continues, "When I have grown in power I will write a spell to prevent such mishaps from visiting upon us again.  Perhaps it will come to be known as Axel's feet of the gecko," he muses to himself as he continues to think on the idea as the party makes ready to continue the climb.

"Ooooh, great idea Axel!  That could be really useful.  Can you still wear shoes?"

Zuru isn't having that much trouble with the steps, and is not happy the paladin fell, but it is a bit of a relief to think the group might go slower.  Tall people really need to learn how to build to a proper scale.

Once Durke is back on his feet, the six of you proceed up the stairs.  For another hour you climb, finally reaching the next switchback.  It's about that time that a shadow passes overhead.  When you look up, you're met with a terrifying sight: a great winged reptile of some kind, rapidly bearing down on you.  The good news is that it isn't after you.  Instead, it passes you by and snatches a large goat from the cliff face nearby before flying off.

The bad news is that it doesn't leave you unscathed.  The sheer force of its wingbeats blows you off your feet, and Durke - poor, clumsy Durke - gets the worst of it.  While most of you simply fall flat on your asses, the knight instead stumbles back, loses his footing... and plummets over the edge.

Brian is aghast. He glances down at the fallen man, but he cannot see much since he is clinging to the walls now.

"May his soul rest in peace. His sacrifice will bolster our efforts manifold, and if the Goddess wills it we shall harvest great fruit on our journey." He pulls out his holy symbol once again and utters a prayer.

The journey is long indeed, and every step is fraught with mortal danger. Yet the young man presses on, for the prosperity of his people.

Turning to Axel suddenly, he exclaims, "Yes, you shall grow in power. And your noble thoughts will result in that spell and ensure accidents like this rarely happen to anyone. I believe in you."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:34, Wed 15 Apr 2020.

Axel picks himself up cursing when he sees his robe is slightly soiled.  He carefully peers over the edge, "Was that a dragon?" he ponders aloud.  He switches his attention to Tybaly placing a hand on his arm.  "You know he didn't survive that, there is nothing you can do for him now, and we are in peril if we stay on these stairs too much longer."

He looks over again, "I can't even see him, he probably got caught in a crag or fissure on the way down, blown by the wind."  He looks up.  "We need to keep going."

"Ware the skies!" Walker shouted as the creature swooped near. He raised his bow and was about to take a shot when he heard the scrape of steel on stone and the startled cry of Durke just behind him. Turning, fighting against the force of rushing air from the powerful wingbeats from above, the ranger watched in horror as his knight reached desperately for the ledge while falling backward and down, down, down to his death far below!


"NO! DURKE! GODS SAVE HIM!" It was an anguished cry that escaped the lips of Tybalt the Ravenbow as he turned and dashed back down the long trail toward the twisted heap that was Sir Durke Aldiron. Upon reaching him and seeing that the knight's lifeblood had already painted the jagged rocks, Tybalt bowed his head in sorrow and momentary defeat. So far they had come on this quest, so much they had endured, only to fail here, at the very steps leading to discovery!

"It's up to me now isn't it?" Tybalt asked the dead knight. "Me, the last of the Aldiron line... and certainly the least worthy to take up the mantle. Damn you for dying and leaving this burden upon my shoulders you arrogant, incompetent fop!"

Bitter tears came then as the ranger tore the sword belt from the body. He drew the weapon free and tossed it aside, strapping the empty scabbard to his own waist. Into this he placed his own sword, a crude weapon compared to that which truly belonged therein, and that which was the focus of their quest, Aldiron, the enchanted sword and family namesake. Its recovery was now Tybalt's responsibility, one which he neither coveted nor even wanted, but was honor bound enough to take upon himself.

"Rest well Durke, I envy your slumber, for now my dreams will be fraught with Aldiron's endless allure..."

Tybalt began to place the jagged broken stones upon which the knight had been dashed, over the broken body, making a crude cairn. When it was finished, the Walker muttered a quick prayer and then began the ascension once more to catch up with the rest of his party, wondering at what point he himself would expire in this foolish quest to find a lost sword.

~~~

OOC: Alrighty then, let's do this! Character motivation and backstory in place. May the Gods watch over and the minstrels put to song the death of Durke and the Quest of the Last Aldiron...
This message was last edited by the player at 15:44, Wed 15 Apr 2020.

Zuru is unusually quiet for a while. He adds a few stones to the crude grave (unlessTybalt discourages him) while mumbling a gnome prayer for the dead.

With no better options presented, your group continues up the Long Stair.  The next leg of the trip is shorter than the first, but you're still high off the ground: by the time you reach the second switchback, you figure you're about halfway to the top.  The cliff here has an opening carved into it, about 20' wide and 6' tall.  The interior is a modest-sized chamber with an 8' ceiling; it could well have been a guard post or rest stop.  The chamber is mostly bare, containing only three things of note: a fire-circle, a stack of firewood against the left well, and a burly half-orc clad in chainmail.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:53, Wed 15 Apr 2020.

Sil'qian steps into the chamber, immediately spotting the chain-clad half-orc.

"Good day, are you the guardian of this rest stop? My companions and I would like to rest before continuing our climb."

The half-orc pops up when the group of climbers arrive.

"Five of you? For some reason, I expected a party of six," he says first.

He brushes off his puzzlement with a wave of his hand and smiles, "I'm Hrothgar, the innkeeper of this fine cliffhouse. Happily for you it's off-season, so it'll be 2 silvers each for lodging and a hot meal."

"Goat stew," he says, by way of encouragement. "Locally sourced, you could say."

Brian freezes for a moment, before sending a quick sympathetic look to Tybalt.
Shaking his head, he notes the sparsely decorated alcove. Having experienced the generosity of people often, he is quite unsure whether anything being offered is worth two silver pieces. But the stew does smell appetizing.
"We would be grateful to stay in this cliff... house. I don't imagine many people come around. In whose service is this establishment set up, sir?"

The half-orc was easily the biggest person there, and he was quite imposing in the space he took up in that small place. Brian walked around the edge of the chamber, eyeing the large man. Edges and large men now have an uncomfortable connection in his mind. He circled around to the wall furthest from the edge.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:37, Thu 16 Apr 2020.

The half-orc's inquiry was the first sting of many to come for the Wiskin ranger known in certain circles as Walker. Having just lost both a close relative and one who had become a close - though oft annoying - friend, it was painful to be reminded once more of the recent loss. But Tybalt was made of twisted fibers and well-honed steel one might say, and though the death of Durke was fresh, it was in fact in the past.

"The flying creature you must compete with for goat meat, caused a loss of one of our number. This is a dangerous ascent it seems, I would be quite surprised if there was, in fact, an on-season as it were."

He fished out a pair of silvers and tossed them to the self-introduced Hrothgar and then reached for the ladle with which to fill his cup with stew. "I'm known as the Walker, or just Walker, but my given name is Tybalt. Well met Hrothgar."

Walker sat down and began to sift through the stew with a carved wooden spoon of his own making. "We're appreciative of the... operation you have here, and your hospitality. Tell us, apart from this obviously lucrative business, what brings you to this region? The promise of lost treasure, or perhaps a quest to prove your love and dedication to the father of a fair maiden?"


2sp deducted