Part 1:

It’s been fifty years since the gods brought their wrath on this world, tearing it asunder….a world nothing more than a bleak, broken, empty shell of what it once was.   Civilization has all but crumbled.  Great empires are nothing but whispers on a tempest wind.  The world… is in complete CHAOS.

No one truly knows how many survived the upheaval, but one thing is certain…people are few and far between.  Venturing outside only when they must, they are a generally frightened, lost, and depressed people.  The apathy, the anger…and the utter hopelessness has taken hold deep within all.

Even the sky is in constant turmoil… changing from its gloomy and brooding shade of gray only to unleash a freak acid rain downpour or an icy blizzard.  The air itself always feels alive, buzzing, like the calm before a storm.  Every once in a while, the sun tries to peek through and penetrate the murkiness...giving only the slightest glimmer of hope to those who so desperately need it.

The world is in a very dark place and is in need of something…ANYTHING to look forward to.

Althaea:

It is currently early afternoon and you're chatting up some of the locals, getting a feel for the community you've only recently arrived at, easily winning them over one by one.  As you begin talking with the local weapon smith, seemingly smitten with you and stammering when trying to give you his name, you're interrupted by what sounds like a commotion coming from the front gates, reminiscent of when you first arrived here at Vertigo just a couple days prior.

Vertigo, as you've come to find out, is an aptly named location, for when you look up at the inverted mountain from it's peak, dizziness soon settles in.  Quite the strange phenomenon.  Just thinking about it, you look up, knowing very well what will happen, but still amazed by the wonder before you.

As the dizziness starts to settle in, it quickly fades when you hear a child scream from where the commotion is coming from.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:19, Tue 30 June 2020.

Entering Vertigo was a massive shock to the warforged, as he had never seen so many people at the same place. He stood there, rooted in place, as the inhabitants went about their business, quite a few stopping to gape at the mechanical construct and its iron animals. The owl, who despite its appearance was a fey spirit under the springs and coils, flew happily, hooting around, gathering a small crowd of kids of diverse races to him, as it’s master looked on. The owl relished the attention so Sand let him play, as he was himself scanning and analyzing his surroundings. Suddenly the steel defender moved out, standing in front of the construct, it’s mandibles ready to bite, as a small girl has boldly approached him. The kid let out a little cry of fright, but Sand put his hand on his creation’s head and pushed him back, fully aware of the onlookers gaze. Dropping to one knee, still towering over the 4 years old, he softly talked.

- Sand not hurt little one. What is little one name?

But the girl was petrified with both awe and fright, clutching her ragtag doll to her chest and the intelligent Sand knew he would need to do something quickly to change this, or his stay would be short in Vertigo. Looking at the ground, he pointed at it chanting softly and the loose soil rose up, coalescing in a few second to create an earthen statue of a dog, under the amazed eyes of the onlookers. Sand looked back at the wide eyed girl and nodded, his way of smiling. Fascination took over fright in the young mind and she approached the statue, gingerly touching it, before clapping, excited.

- More! Can you do more?
- Sand can do more. Young one wants…

He hesitated, looking for the word for doll, or toy, and could not find anything. He resorted to pointing to the doll.

- Young one wants that to talk?
- You can do that?
- Sand can do, for a little time.
- What do I need to do?
- Give to Sand.

Unsure, the girl looked at an adult female observing the encounter, probably her mother, who nodded. The girl dropped her doll in the big hands of the warforged, who touched the toy with a small piece of metal, saying a few words before giving it back to the little girl.

As soon as she touched the belly, the doll started to say “I love you!”, and an amazed girl abandoned her fascination with the artificier, running back to her friends to show off her new magical toy. Sand nodded, pleased with himself, and rose, his towering 6’2” frame covered only with a red cloak standing a head over almost everybody.

- How long will that magic last? Asked the mother of the girl
- Sand can remove at any time. Do you want Sand to stop it?
- No, let her have her fun. Gods knows there's not enough joy in this place.
- Sand can ask question?
- Sure, what do you want?
- Sand looking for small hairy friends friend.
- Do you have a name for this friend?
- Alicia
- Oh, that one? You might catch her at the inn tonight.  Said the woman before returning to her child.

The gathering now dispersing, he decided to follow the crowd towards the inn.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:16, Wed 01 July 2020.

I made my way over to the gates, in the general direction the scream came from. I was ready to face down an enemy to keep the child from harm, but what I found upon my arrival was far from what I had been expecting.

I could see the warforged talking with the child, but I was too far away to hear the conversation. Judging by the body language of those around them, it was a pleasant interaction. As soon as the safety of the child was no longer in question, I decided to head back to the inn.

Alaric had insisted that I perform for everyone at least one time after we had gotten settled in and I had told Corsica I would sing tonight once the day's work had been completed so I wanted first pickings on supper. If I waited until after my performance, I might not get to eat anything at all.

-Corsica! I called upon stepping into the inn, What are my options for supper?
-We got slim pickings tonight, darling. Turnip stew or roasted ham and potatoes.
-I will take the stew. I know what pig gave us that ham and I cannot bear to eat it.
-She giggled, It was a cute little thing, wasn't it? Have a seat, I'll have that out for you in a flash.

I sat down at the bar while I waited for my meal. It took only a few minutes for Corsica to come back with my bowl of stew.

-Thank you.
-You're welcome. If you suck tonight, I'll never hear the end of it for letting you get up there, so break a leg or whatever.

About an hour later, all the regulars were crowded into the inn. They did not have a stage due to the rarity of travelers these days, so I sat atop the bar in hopes that everyone could hear me. I strummed the first few notes of the song on my lute and started to sing.

Following the flow of the crowd, the warforged finally entered the inn, glancing over the patrons present, looking for a human female. There was a few of them, including one that ran from table to table, taking orders and bringing food and drink to the seated customers. His 6 legged defender clacked its mandibles at a human dressed as a commoner that passed too close, and Sand had to apologize to the man, before moving out the way, finding a spot along a wall and getting his defender to stand down. With one last unhappy clack, the mechanical beast crouched down and dropped its head on his front paws. Satisfied that there wouldn’t be another incident with his defender, Sand returned to his observation of the room. As it turned out, he had a good view of the bar and he noticed the lithe elf finishing her bowl of stew, and talking a moment with the man behind the bar.

Continuing his sweep, he got accosted by Corsica, who asked what he would take. Taken aback by the unexpected question, he stammered a bit, and the waitress snarked at his indecision, before moving along, telling him to call her when he had made up his mind. The owl hooted loudly after her, before taking flight and perching himself on the main beam.

 Just then, the elf had climbed on the bar and took a seat on it. Taking her lute, she strummed a few notes, before starting to sing, hushing the room instantly, all the eyes on her. As she continued her show, the owl, with the mischievousness of the fey spirit inhabiting it, flew down, hooting in tune with the song, and, landing beside the elf, started a happy dance following the music…



This message was last edited by the player at 02:01, Thu 02 July 2020.

During my performance a mechanical owl flew down onto the bar and started to dance next to me. The owl gave me a calming sensation, but I could not place why that would be without disrupting my performance. I had not met the warforged it traveled with so it could not be that I was familiar with it.

Following the owls lead, I decided to get up and move a bit to really give the people of Vertigo a performance. I was paying too much attention to the owl and not wanting to step on it that I didn't notice the cup it knocked over with its wings. My foot flew out from underneath me, twisting my knee in such a way I could not bear to move. [Althaea Sylvaranth rolled 8 using 1d20+7. Performance]

Upon seeing this, Corisca came up to me, Now, Darlin', I didn't mean for you to actually break your leg. It was a figure of speech. Are you gonna be alright?

Seeing Alaric finally make his way into the inn put the pain out of my head. I smiled in spite of myself and knew now what my next song would be.

-I will be fine. Thank you, Corsica. I sat up and faced the audience once more. I think I will just sit for the rest of the night if you all will allow me that. Normally, I would take requests after the first song, but I only know one song from the realm. That being the case, if there are any musicians among you that would care to teach some to me in your spare time, I would be most grateful. This next song goes out to Alaric. [Althaea Sylvaranth rolled 23 using 1d20+7.  Performance]

I don't want to know who we are without each other
It's just too hard
I don't want to leave here without you
I don't want to lose part of me
Will I recover?
That broken piece, let it go and unleash all the feelings
Did we ever see it coming?
Will we ever let it go?
We are buried in broken dreams
We are knee-deep without a plea
I don't want to know what it's like to live without you
Don't want to know the other side of a world without you
Is it fair, or is it fate?
No one knows
The stars choose their lovers, save my soul
It hurts just the same
And I can't tear myself away
Did we ever see it coming?
Will we ever let it go?
We are buried in broken dreams
We are knee-deep without a plea
I don't want to know what it's like to live without you
Don't want to know the other side of a world without you
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
I don't want to know
We are buried in broken dreams
We are knee-deep without a plea
I don't want to know what it's like to live without you
Don't want to know the other side of a world without you
Can't live without you

I played a few more songs before I was ready to retire my post. I was curious about the owl, in any case, and wanted to ask the warforged about it. I put my lute away for safekeeping and limped my way through the crowd to where I saw him standing against the wall.

Good evening. My name is Althaea and I am curious about your owl. It reminds me of something, but I cannot place exactly what that is. Where did you find such a creature?
This message was last edited by the player at 05:26, Thu 02 July 2020.

In reply to Althaea Sylvaranth (msg # 5):

Part 2:

Currently, it is early evening and a good portion of Vertigo's inhabitants have made their way to the local gathering spot, called the "Better Times Inn".  Whether it's for no other reason that there is nowhere else to go, they've heard of the recent and strange newcomers, or due to the nerve-wracking thunderstorm that is shaking the mountain with its ferocity, the Better Times Inn hasn't seen a crowd like this in some time.  Even some of the tables and chairs from the inn's rooms are being pulled out into the hallways and main room to accommodate the crowd, so they can take part in the camaraderie...or maybe because no one wants to be alone; the storm reminiscent of the god's fury.



Note to players:  There are no doors leading out of the inn, on the right side of the inn/map.  The entrance to the inn is on the left side, on North of the hearth.  There is no door on the South of the hearth.  Keep in mind that the inn is carved out inside a cave, so there is only the one entrance in or out.

A fire dances in the fireplace, the wind from the storm able to reach its tendrils deep inside the mountain itself and tease it.  The barkeep Rory chats up a couple of men at the bar, while the one waitress, Corsica, keeps herself busy by swiftly and deftly taking care of the patrons.

Off in one corner, close to the entrance of the inn, Thorin and Sebastian seem to be having a heated conversation based on their mannerisms, though they do a good job of keeping their voices down below the din of the room.

The inn itself is dim, smelling of freshly cut but long since dried cedar, filled with voices of the weary. Boredom can harry as much as any foe, so everyone does what they can to keep themselves moving forward, pushing through the daily depression and anxiety that is their world now.

Quite a few heads turn when the Warforged squeezes his large frame through the door, followed by the unnerving many legged machine at his side, that always seems to be fiercely protecting the mechanical giant.  The patrons move out of the way, giving both a wide berth, still not knowing what to expect from such creatures, but trusting in Thorin's judgement to accept them into the village.

Soon following, the giant's owl flies in erratically, knocking into and bouncing off quite a few things, including the rafters built into the ceiling to prevent any cave-ins.  Corsica adeptly maneuvers out of the owl’s path when it swoops down near her, just in time before the unpredictable creature almost knocks over her serving tray filled with drinks, some of which spill a little over their rims.

"When are you going to get me some help?  I can't be doing this all on my own anymore!" Corsica shouts in the direction of Rory, who nods, but is busy filling up more drinks for the ever-growing crowd, as well as setting down a golden honeyed colored drink down for the Elven woman sitting at the bar.

If it wasn't for the Elven woman's calming and relaxed demeanor, her presence would feel almost off-putting;  her ethereal beauty matched by words laced with comforting tones, made those around her feel like they were in the wrong place, even in their own home.

The Elven woman finishes her stew, taking one last sip from her drink.  She hops up onto the bar, pulls out her lute and begins to sing.  Her voice was haunting; immediately grabbing the attention of the crowd, quickly quieting them to a hushed whisper.  Her voice matched her otherworldly appearance, pulling everyone into a perpetual trance.

Seeing the effect on the patrons, and on the little mechanical owl that had just landed on the bar next to her, starting to dance, the Elven woman decided to follow suit, hoping to help the people of Vertigo to forget, if only for a little while, the harsh world they all live in.  The owl, hooting and hollering next to her, ended up being more of a distraction than she anticipated.  The Elven woman, slipped on a drink the owl spilled only moments before, twisted her knee and crashing onto the top of the bar, her face wincing in pain.  Corsica, ever observant, saw it happen out of the corner of her eye and was quickly there, before the spellbound weapon-smith who was waiting for any chance to be close to the Elven woman again, could make it over to help.

The crowd was just starting to come out of its trance when the human Alaric, whom accompanied the Elven woman, came through the inn’s door.  A smile made its way to her face when she saw him; the owl seemingly finding new prey, flew over to where Alaric sat and began pestering the man, pecking at the hairs on his head.

Saying a quick thank you to Corsica, she sat up on the bar, addressed the crowd and began to sing a new song.  This song was different though.  It was evocative, yet saddening; the crowd was flooded with emotions that were muddled by the song's contradictory nature.  Not knowing how to react, it left an unsettling, but beguiling feeling in the audience.

Alaric, just as imprisoned by the song himself, sat there speechless, his mouth agape.  Seeing the effect on the crowd, the Elven woman, not wanting to unnerve them anymore, moved on to more jovial melodies.

If you were to ask anyone to this day, about that night, they would only remember that one song....

After the final song comes to an end, and with the patrons seemingly in a much better disposition, a warm and well-deserved applause erupts from the crowd.  The Elven woman bows, thanking the crowd several times before cautiously easing herself off the bar, so as not to upset her tender knee.

She glances at Alaric, but is quickly surrounded by some of the patrons wanting to meet and speak with the Bard about the performance, and so quickly loses sight of him.  Corsica however, quickly comes to the her aid once again, using the serving tray akin to a battering ram, blazing a path to the corner of the room, while discouraging others from getting too close by swinging the tray about.

“You did good up there, lass.  Quite the comeback after you made a fool of yerself.” Corsica snickers, and continues to battle her way through the crowd.

Now near the corner of the room, where the Warforged sits alone, it was time her curiosity of this little owl was satisfied.  The protective mechanical creature lying next to Warforged lifted its head when the Elven woman drew near, though the Warforged, quickly anticipating such, put his hand down to calm the creature.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:15, Wed 08 July 2020.

I made decent time today but I arrived at Vertigo late in the day and ahead of me a few people were scurrying towards the gate in the wooden stockade. It looks like work has ended for the day and like me they are hoping to get inside before the brewing thunderstorm hits. Given the poor condition of the valley directly beneath the inverted mountain I had to admire the tenacity of the people who had chosen to make their home here; though, I suppose the relative safety of the mountain caves was not to be dismissed in these troubled times.

As I approached the gate a stocky dwarf on the battlements peered down at me, no doubt noticing my armour, the sword at my hip, and the dust and grime that more than a week of travel with few opportunities to wash had layered on me. “Halt stranger! State your business in Vertigo.” He yelled down in challenge.

I pulled the hood of my cloak back revealing my light brown hair and ensuring he could clearly see me face and offered him my most sincere smile. “Good evening neighbour. I am a weary traveler in search of a friend who may have come through these parts. Tonight, I am looking for a safe place to clean up and rest for the evening. Can you recommend one?”

He eyed me for a few seconds before responding. “You can get clean water for washing at the well at the base of the waterfall near the main cave entrance; its straight ahead from the gate entrance, you can’t miss it. The inn may have some space available for the night. It’s nothing fancy and will be crowded but it is safer than out here.”

“Thank you.” I reply nodding my head in his direction. “Be well neighbour.”

Passing through the gate I look around the area inside the stockade. It seems the town’s inhabitants have made the most of available land to put it some crops. I wonder how well they do given how little light must reach under here? Maybe there is a druid helping them?

Seeing the waterfall, I joined a small line of people waiting at the well. When it was my turn I fill my water skin and a small bucket before moving aside to find a private area to get cleaned up. After washing myself as much as I can with my washcloth, relishing even that meager luxury, I put on my travelling clothes and inspect my armour. It has held up well on the road and after applying some oil I pack it away with the rest of my gear, but keep my sword handy as I move towards the main cave entrance.

After a short tunnel I enter a larger cavern with a number of smaller caves leading to other spaces. Unsure where to go, I stand still for a minute before the sound of many loud conversations coming from one of the caves to my left catches my attention. That had to be a tavern and if the inn was not co-located I am sure the staff could direct me to it. And there would be food, hopefully hot food! As I walk towards the cave entrance the voices are coming from, the sound of a lute and singing drifts over me, the other voices inside lower in respect. It was good. I am not familiar with the song but the voice was clear and whomever, was playing the lute was obviously skilled. As the music drifted over me I could feel the tightness in my shoulders relax and I pushed a lock of vibrant blonde hair off my forehead. Oh yes, they were good.

Just inset from the cave entrance was a wooden door, the only door I can see in the cavern, the other caves being blocked off with rough curtains. Opening the door I am surprised to see that the entire cave had been lined with wood paneling, giving the room the appearance of an old style tavern rather than a roughly carved cave. They even did the floor! It was well lit and a fire was burning in a hearth on the left side of the room, the smoke drawing into a smooth stone chimney that I guess is dwarven make?  A single barmaid weaves her way between the tables carrying food and drink whilst evading the lecherous hands of drunken men with the casual ease of long practice. Judging by the ragged edge to her smile I figure she is busy and resign myself to wait before ordering supper. Standing at the bar, an elven woman gently strums on a lute, evidently the source of the music. She can both sing and play an instrument, impressive. Next to her on the bar, a mechanical owl flaps its wings and hops back and forth from leg to leg roughly in time to the music. Huh, that is not something you see every day. I have seen small automatons before but never something that could appreciate music. The musician starts to dance as well but her foot slips and a wince of pain crosses her face as she collapses back against the bar  before sitting down in a chair. To her credit her song continues with barely a hiccup.

As the song comes to an end I see her exchange words with the barmaid before starting up another song. I do not know this one either. I guess I am more out of touch than I thought. I take a look around hoping to find a mop of unruly dark hair resting atop a thin, fidgeting frame but I am disappointed. Roland might have passed through but he is not here now. The tavern patrons are a mixed lot and I notice another Half-Elf in the far right corner arguing with a male dwarf and consider going to introduce myself since it is rare to find someone like me but the sneer plastered across his face is not encouraging. His clothes are much finer than the others in the room but a closer look reveals the signs of wear and fading colours. Is he clinging to past status or is he a poser who does not know better? Either way I do not want to deal with him right now.

In the other far corner stands a pair or odd statues: one an approximation of a tall humanoid and the other a strange six legged construct. Is that supposed to be some kind of giant insect? They do not really fit in with the rest of the tavern atmosphere.

Holy Rao did they just move! Sorry, sorry!

I watch in wonder as the humanoid statue’s head turns to watch the mechanical owl as it flies over to a human male flitting about his head and pecking at his hair. Meanwhile, the mandibles on the strange creature clack together. I wonder if it is scolding the owl? Very interesting, no one in the room looks like a Wizard or Artificer; I wonder who is controlling them? Ooh, ooh maybe someone found an ancient control rod for them! The humanoid one at least likes like it has some mileage.

I settle in to wait for the barmaid to have a minute quietly enjoying the music. I say a small prayer to Rao as the music surrounds me. Even in a chaotic tavern music always makes it easier to commune with him. I order some ham and potatoes and sit back letting go of all the small irritations that a day spent travelling always creates and just relax.
As the music ends I look up to see the elf woman speak quietly to the barmaid leaving the bar and approaching the two constructs limping slightly. I leave them alone for a minute or two not wanting to interrupt but I really want to get a closer look at the construct! I make sure not to approach on the side of the six legged one since it seems a bit prickly.

“Good evening neighbour, I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed your music.” I say to her in Elvish. “It has been some time since I heard such and it is ever a gift. In return, If you would permit it I may be able to help you with your leg.”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:54, Thu 02 July 2020.

Ever since he has almost accidently invoked the owl, the little beast had been a trickster and showoff. In the weeks since this casting, when Sand was pretty much alone, it had not showed too much, but ever since arriving in Vertigo, he had the audience he probably had always dreamed of, first with the children and now with the crowd at the inn. The warforged looked on as his bird started to dance on the improvised stage with the bard…

With one flick of its mechanical wing, a glass was accidently spilled,  and the bard slipped and fell. Sand almost recalled the owl to avoid more incidents, sure now that he would be kicked out before he could complete his mission, but the bard recovered beautifully, signing a haunting song that left everyone mesmerized. Even the owl was now calmed down, although he did pester the human that seemed to be recipient of the song. Sand almost reached into his leg for the tools he needed to cast spells, curious to see if magic was woven in the powerful melody, but he decided that is was not worth it. Since his owl was responsible for the injury, he would offer to fix the bard’s leg, and might need his own magical energy, so he determined that he would approach the bar after the song. His good intentions were however washed away by the most beautiful music he had ever heard, and he stood transfixed like all the patrons during the show, barely noticing a blonde woman entering the inn and taking place.

After what seemed like a too short moment in a musical heaven, the show was over and Sand mentally recalled the owl to him, the animal hooting a protest before taking flight and coming back to land on his outstretched hand. But he did not come alone, the limping elf was right behind him!

Good evening. My name is Althaea and I am curious about your owl. It reminds me of something, but I cannot place exactly what that is. Where did you find such a creature?

Noticing the slight grimace of pain of the elven maiden, Sand rose from the single chair he had been occupying and gestured to the elf to sit down, the red cloak that constituted his only clothing billowing around his huge frame.

Sand is sorry bird injured you.

Just as he was about to unravel his leg to pick his tools to do his healing magic, the blonde woman arrived and said that she had enjoyed the show and could heal the elf’s leg, in a melodious tongue that Sand had never heard before… but that he realized he could understand! Looking more closely at the not quite elven, nor human face, the mix surprisingly exotic, he haltingly said in the language of his elven makers, so many decades ago.

Sand can also fix leg, Sand feels responsible for bird’s bad behavior.

Waiting for the elf permission, while the owl hooted loudly in protest near his ear canal, he reverted to the common tongue.

Sand not found bird. Sand was reading short hairy friend book of magic when Sand understood how to call magical friend. Bird found Sand. Sand not lonely after.

A loud mandible clack interrupted him, startling the owl that flew off, while the warforged looked at his creation, unhappy.

This one Sand built. Sand likes to build.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:33, Fri 03 July 2020.

This is awesome! No breathe stay calm! In and out. In…and out. Okay, is it Sand or is its master Sand? Strange name, maybe it is a gnome? Does not matter, focus. Ohh, Maybe the insect thing is Sand and it is some alien from another plane and it is using the other as its mouth piece! Damn it! In……and out. I quietly rub a lock of strawberry blond hair between thumb and forefinger; lets see how this plays out.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:15, Fri 03 July 2020.

I nodded my thanks to Corisca before she left to attend other patrons of the bar. The warforged was kind enough to offer me his seat and I gingerly took it, trying to relieve the sharp pains stabbing at my knee. I took a moment to look around the tavern while I collected my thoughts. I could scarcely see Alaric, he was surrounded by many of the patrons. I noticed most of those surrounding Alaric were the people I had conversed with throughout our stay in Vertigo. I would speak to him later when there would be less of an audience.

Near Alaric, I could see Thorin arguing with Sebastian again. He seems to be giving the dwarf a multitude of problems in the time I have been here. I should see if there is anything I can do to ease the tensions between those two. It would be unfortunate if their arguments turned into a fight. That is the last thing the village needs right now.

Turning back to the two claiming my attention, I noticed the woman standing next to the warforged. She appeared to be roughly an inch shorter than my height of five foot eight inches but was more muscled than myself, which was likely due to her being only half-elven.

-I appreciate both of you offering to heal me. I will allow it, but it is not necessary. I am capable of healing myself and have been doing so for many years. positioning myself to better look the warforged in the eyes, So, you cast a spell on a bird and then, this one found you? When you say this, do you mean an entirely separate bird came to you or that the bird you read to became this one? It sounds as though, this one is your familiar, which is why it feels so familiar to me. Its magic soothes mine in this place. I miss my home.

Looking at the owl, a deep longing feeling rose inside me. I held out my arm to it for a perch so I could inspect it closer. Though, I knew not if it would come to me. I looked between Sand and his creation for permission.

-You said you built this one. How does one go about this? I have never seen it done. I pointed to the defensive construct at the warforged's feet.

In reply to Althaea Sylvaranth (msg # 10):

She will allow us to heal her. Okay. Note to self, just cause someone makes beautiful music does not necessarily mean that is someone you want to meet. Have to add that to the list later.

I bow my head in the elf's direction. "My apologies madam, it was rude of me to interrupt your conversation." I say in common since it seems to be the construct's preferred tongue. It knows more than one language! I wave my left hand to indicate the construct while I continue to rub the lock of auburn hair in my right. "I yield to one with a better claim. Be well neighbours."

I step away but stay nearby. I want to keep observing the construct. Maybe I will even speak to it once the elf leaves. Or should I be talking to the mechanical insect? Is that some kind of beetle?

Taking a look around I notice the half-elf and the dwarf are still arguing in the opposite corner. Judging from the looks being cast their way, they are important people in this town. I wonder what the rest of the townsfolk think about this argument (Insight check: 23)?

I grimaced again, despite myself. I did not like showing weakness. My family had instilled in me from a young age not to. We were royal and above such common things as pain. It had been one of my mother's favorite philosophies, I hated my mother.

The half-elf, whose name I had not even bothered to ask, made a quick and gracious exit. I would have to apologize once the stabbing pain in my knee subsided. It was getting bad enough I had acted as my younger self, the one who listened to the teachings of a cold-hearted queen.

-I apologize, Sand. I am not perfect and when I experience a large amount of pain, I have a bad habit of being rude to hide that fact.

I pulled out my pan flute and played a short melody, then placing my hands on either side of my knee, localized the healing spell.

I sighed in relief.

Would you pardon me a moment, Sand? I owe an apology to the young lady who just left us. And I plan to beg our bartender for some ice or a stiff drink. I will be back in a moment.

I saw a path up to the bar and ordered a drink from Rory. While I waited my turn, I saw that the woman had not gone far when I scanned the room for her. With drink in hand, I approached slowly, so as not to twist my knee or startle her in the crowded room.

-I owe you an apology for my behavior. I was not raised by a kind woman and I am still working on breaking the habits she instilled in me. I apologize for my manners. You are welcome to join us should my presence not be too offputting. What is the phrase the humans say? I snapped my fingers a few times, trying my brain to come up with the answer quickly. Can we start over? My name is Althaea Sylvaranth. What is your name?

The blond woman took a step back, saying that Sand had a better claim to heal the minstrel and started to be interested in the other corner of the common hall, where the dwarf that had allowed Sand in, after a very long interview on how he had gotten the dwarves brother ponies, and another half-elf in fancy clothes were in a heated argument. Sand did notice that she was still glancing towards him and his defender, questions burning in her eyes.

Despite giving her permission to heal her, the bard decided to do it herself, while asking some more questions to Sand about his bird, that had flew off to perch himself on her shoulder, hooting softly, rubbing its head on the elf’s.

Sand followed instruction in small hairy friend book. Big fire in small pot, lots of smoke and bird was in smoke, there was no bird before. Book very difficult to read, Sand still trying to understand all. Sand hope Sand is clear, very difficult to explain.

If his fixed visage could have showed frustration, it would have now, as the brilliant mind encased in the metal shell struggled to get past his apparently inherent limitations. Instead, he moved his head sideways, cocked at an angle, the eyes seemingly glowing brighter for a second.

Sand built big friend to help defend Sand and ponies. Sand had to fight dead things and alive things to protect ponies to come to Vertigo. How Sand did?

His head cocked to the side again, the jaw shut and almost grinding as he was thinking.

Sand… Sand just knows. Small hairy friend called it magic. Sand just knows how to fix things, build things. Sand don’t like broken things, Sand fixes. Sand saw pile of metal and plans to big friend just came to Sand.

The warforged shrugged, unable to explain how he knew those things, unaware that his creators had instilled him with deep rooted knowledge, designed, destined to be as he was.

Althaea then excused herself and rose, disturbing the owl that flew off, perching himself on the main beam of the inn, hooting some kind of owlish song. Sand nodded and moved out of the way, looking at the elf going to the bar, and approaching the half-elven woman that was half listening to the discussion between Thorin and the half-elf.

Alone in a sea of people, Sand sat down on the chair the elf had vacated and took out the pieces of the broken carved rocks that he had found on his trek to Vertigo, finally having time to repair them.

This message was last edited by the player at 00:21, Sun 05 July 2020.

In reply to Althaea Sylvaranth (msg # 12):

As the elven woman finishes her apology I turn to face her with a smile. An elf actually apologized to me what a wonderful day! “It is nice to meet you Althaea Sylvaranth. I am Andraste Giltris.” I say inclining my head to her twirling the lock of dirty blond hair in my right hand. “I believe I understand, often the wounds inflicted on us by our parents are the hardest to overcome. I will happily join you and Sand is it?” I asked indicating the construct which appeared to be fussing over some pieces of rock. “If you would give me but a moment.” as I turn back to observe the half-elf and dwarf in the other corner for a moment longer. It looks like this is expected behavior between those two. I will keep an eye on it and of it looks to be escalating I will intervene. Shrugging my shoulders slightly I turn back to Althaea, "After you."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:47, Sat 04 July 2020.

In reply to Andraste Giltris (msg # 14):

Alaric smiled to himself as he watched Althaea through glances through the throngs of patrons, doing what she does best.  He didn't want to interrupt for a myriad of reasons.  This was where she shined;  sharing the wonders of her personality that he had come to know in just the short time they'd been together and in Vertigo.  Entranced, he had to shake himself out of it, before looking too much like a creep, should she see his constant watch.

He decided to do some socializing of his own and looked about the room for anyone that of interest.  The Dwarf and Half-Elf continued their heated discussion, which ebbed and flowed between anger and frustration.  It was late and he was not in the mood to deal with that.

Walking and scanning the room, he eventually came across this one woman who, judging by her  eccentric look, was surprised he missed seeing her earlier.  She was a little hard to see, tucked away in the mouth of a hallway that came down from what could only be the inn's rooms.  She was alone, which wasn't surprising giving her strange appearance, and smiling at the contentment of the people around her.  He thought it safe to approach and so made his way over, grabbing one of the free chairs, flipping it around and introduced himself.

The woman was mostly human, though had some rough features that eluded to curious mixture that he just couldn't place.  Whatever it was, the human side of her seemed to shine through, which in this case, was probably a good thing.

It was hard to explain what the most eccentric thing about her was, as there were many.  She wore a black top hat, with a strange band of various adornments that were mixed with old and new miscellaneous items.

Her pallor was mixed with a slight gray undertone, her hair fiery red, but stringy, and not in a dirty way. She wore a light brown overcoat, covering a laced shirt, the same color as her hair.  She had a belt with various pouches and instruments, though they were mostly hidden behind the belt and skirt she wore underneath that.  She had black rimmed circular glasses that teetered on the edge of her pig like nose, her nostrils seemingly larger up close.  She worn brown leggings that fed into eccentric boots that held a host of chains and small lockets.  The thing that caught Alaric's eye though, was a necklace around the woman's neck, which was orb like, dangling from an iron chain, which seemed to swirl like a maelstrom, its colors of green, purple, and blue, drawing him in.

After shaking himself of the orbs beauty, he felt it was probably time to introduce himself, which was long overdue, as she stared at him with a strange curiosity.

Good evening to you.  My name is Alaric, and may I say, that orb is quite fascinating.

She smiled at him, knowingly due to the orb's effects on others, and said, A pleasure Alaric.  My name is Alicia.





(Note:  She does not have a mechanical dragon, nor a gun, nor a multitude of glowing items on her, but this was the eccentric look I was going for)

She accepted my apology! Most people just see my elven beauty and assume I am still putting on airs. Being my mother's daughter has brought me nothing but grief. Andraste does not know to be prejudiced of my mother. A genuinely happy smile spread across my face.

-Yes, his name is Sand. Thank you. Most people usually do not accept my apologies thanks to who my mother is. This may sound forward, but I wish to be your friend.

I realized it had been many years since I had last had a good friend. Maybe this place is not as bad as I initially thought it was. Leading Andraste back to where Sand was sitting in the corner, I deliberately led us in a roundabout path to refill my drink. In doing so, it put me close enough to try and overhear Thorin and Sebastian's conversation. They normally do not argue for this long and I was starting to worry about it escalating. Althaea Sylvaranth rolled 13 using 1d20+5.  Perception (hearing based).

-Once we were both back to where I had left Sand, I asked, What brings you both to Vertigo?

In reply to Althaea Sylvaranth (msg # 16):

A friend? That would be wonderful in this unfamiliar place. She does not look like she is from here either; maybe we can support each other as we find our place among these strangers! I have never had an elven friend before; they always seem to be in a hurry to get away from me.

“That would be nice.” I say offering her a smile. “In uncertain times nothing is more precious than friendship.” Was that too pretentious? Argghh, does not matter it is out there now. Out of the corner of my eye I catch the faint threads of pink running between the fingers of my right hand. Oh…sugar!

As I follow Althaea back to the table with the trio of constructs I cast my eyes across the room looking for possible trouble (Perception: 21) or anything that seems out of place. As we settle down, I turn to Althaea and hold up a finger. “Another moment please.” Turning back to Sand I incline my head it its direction. “I overheard your name is Sand. I am Andraste Giltris and it is a pleasure to meet you.” I say holding my left hand to my breast. “Would you like some company or would you prefer to be left alone to work on your project?” I say indicating the rocks he had been examining.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:49, Mon 06 July 2020.

The owl was still hooting his song, dancing on the beam, still in the beat of the bard’s performance. The impish creature was having the time of its short life, the show with the bard having fully awaken it’s extravert attitude. Yes, the spirit inside the mechanical body was bound to the warforged and having lots of fun playfully tormenting him, but now he had lots more people to play with! Deploying it’s wings, it swooped down silently just in the path of Corsica, barely missing her, and her mighty backhand. Hooting like it was laughing, it flew over the bar, disturbing a conversation between a young human couple holding hands. As long as its master was not calling on him, the spirit intended to have fun tonight…

The dark haired youth he had tormented during the bard’s song after she had mysteriously stopped dancing with him had just sat down neat the corridor leading to the rooms, another place to explore for the owl. Finding all the doors to the rooms closed, the inspection was short lived and it decided to go back to annoy the dark haired human. Before he reached him, the female talking to him moved her legs on her chair, and a tiny jingle caught the owl’s attention. There, on the woman’s boot, was a small bell, and he swoop down to land under the chair, hitting the bell with its beak repetitively…

Meanwhile, Sand had disposed the fragments of carved rock on the small table, and having found 2 pieces that fitted together, had gotten his small hammer from the secret compartment in his leg, the wood fiber coiling out like tentacles to expose the storage space. With it, he chanted for a minute while  delicately tapping the matching pieces, magically combining the two pieces to make one, like it was never broken. Taking the now single piece with an unexpected delicacy from such big hands, he was examining it when the two women came back to him and asked if they could join him. Nodding, he started to delicately pick the stone pieces and put them back in a small velvet bag.

Sand pleased to offer place. Sand was passing time, found broken rock and Sand curious to see what is on it.

The half-elven woman offered her name as  Andraste Giltris, an information he filed away, nodding, then the elf asked what they were both doing here in Vertigo.

Sand was found by small hairy friends many moons ago, they freed Sand from ice and gave Sand his name. Sand had no name before. Small hairy friend told Sand they had friend in Vertigo, Sand is looking for her.

In reply to Sand (msg # 18):

Small hairy friends? I wonder who he is talking about? I have met a lot of people who fit that description. Ha, Old Wonzbar would definitely fit that description; crazy old Gnome! He did make the best potions and tinctures.

Once Sand had finished its response I turned back to face Althaea. “I am looking for someone who was last seen heading north from Smalltown.” I said tugging gently on a lock of brown hair. “He got into trouble and had to leave in a hurry but he has never been outside a settlement. He has great potential but makes poor decisions under pressure and I don’t want him to see him back-slide into old ways.” I said my voice lowering as I finished the sentence.

“Anyway," I said clapping my hands together, "Vertigo is the closest town from where he was last seen and I think he would be fascinated by the mountain.” My voice picking up again as I finished. “What about you? I am guessing you have traveled farther than either of us.” I said indicating her unusual clothing with my left hand. (Insight: 21)
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Sun 19 July 2020.

-Small hairy friends? I do not quite understand what you mean by that, Sand. Are they animals? Or would you be able to point out a person here that is similar to them? You seem to have more intelligence than you are able to voice. I just saw you mend a broken stone whole again. Not many people can do that. Or build that. I said, pointing at the smaller, insect-like construct. Does it have a name?

I pondered over Sand and his creations another moment, trying to remember my lessons from a child and whether I had studied something similar, but was coming up blank. Perhaps this is something to consider at a later time.

-Turning to Andraste, I smiled, Yes, and no, I spent five days traveling here from the time I left my home and it seems that you and Sand may have traveled farther than that. However, you are also correct, my home is not on the Material Plane. I hail from the Feywild. I think you would enjoy yourself there, young one. It is magical.

Talking about my home brought back the ache of being sent away. I may not believe in all of my mother's practices and philosophies on how royals should behave, but I still miss it. I could imagine myself running through the trees and dancing under the moon, where my mother's watchful eyes couldn't see. I reached out my hand as if to touch it and the image shattered. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror along the wall, the glow fading from my eyes once more.

Would you excuse me? Talking about home requires a refill.

Althaea did not seem to understand the only way Sand had found to describe a dwarf. Looking around the room, he pointed to Thorin.

Short and hairy like Sand’s friends. But friends dead, killed by dead things that walk. Sand alone after, for many moons, only with short hairy friends animals. But nasty animals with big teeth wanted to eat short hairy friends long legs animals, so Sand built big friend. To protect.

Althaea asked if the defender had a name. Sensing that the elf was talking about it, the beetle like creature clacked its mandible.

Sand never thought of giving name. Sand never had name before short hairy friend asked for one and gave one to Sand.

Looking at his creation, he pondered for a few moments, when the two women were talking about their own reason to be in Vertigo.

Sand will call big friend… Clacker. Yes, that is good name. Sand will call bird…

Looking around he realized his familiar was nowhere in sight.

Where is bird?

In reply to Sand (msg # 21):

I sit in silence as Althaea leaves the table to get a refill. The Feywild…She was right, I had enjoyed it once; the memories had faded and were full of painful associations but I was happy there once. Maybe someday I would return but for now there was too much to do here to indulge such selfish desires.

Seeing a hint of blue out of the corner of my eye I shake off the memories and look to Sand as it tried to find the the mischievous owl. “How about Scamp? It seems fitting.” I say with a small smile before turning to face the larger insectoid construct. “It is a pleasure to meet you too Clacker.”

I return my attention to Sand. "What do intend to do once you find her? This friend of your dead friend."

Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding

The owl was hitting the little bell repetitively, the tinkling sound discrete but persistent.

Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding

Something was wrong… the wearer of the bell was not reacting. And the familiar did not feel like hitting the bell anymore.

Ding …Ding ……Ding ……Ding………. Ding….

Peace flowed through the spirit, like it had never known before. Calmer but still curious as to why this mortal was not reacting, the owl walked out of under the chair and look up from the boot, up the leather covered leg to the red haired face, with the glasses precariously perched on the tip of the nose of the woman. The familiar just stood there, transfixed.

How about Scamp? It seems fitting, said Andraste, to which the warforged agreed readily, answered that he didn't really know what he would do when he would find the dead dwarves friend, apart from telling her of their fate, before realizing that his owl was nowhere in sight.

Where is bir.. Scamp?

Calling on the magic that linked them, the vision of the warforged faded to black before showing him a different view, that of boots and foot chairs, the conversations unclear. Shaking his head to come back to his own senses, he rose from his chair, and started scanning at the floor looking for the owl.

Scamp looking at boots and floor, not answering magic summon, can Andraste help Sand find Scamp? Sand go this way.

He pointed towards Thorin and Sebastian. Careful not to bump into the other patrons, he started his search, worried on why the normally airborne creature was staying on the floor.

Sand rolled 7 using 1d20+5.  Perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:39, Wed 08 July 2020.

In reply to Sand (msg # 23):

Ha, he liked it! Or is he just humouring me? It does not matter. If I was a mechanical owl where would I go?...Not on the floor so that will not work. I stand up, pick up my stuff, and make my way along the wall moving back towards the entrance trying to glance under each table without disturbing its occupants. If that does not work I can always ask the other patrons. (Perception: 16)

In reply to Andraste Giltris and Sand (msg # 23 and 24):

Sand walks ahead, working his way towards the back end of the room, near Thorin and Sebastian, while Andraste makes his way along the wall, moving near the hearth, towards the entrance.

While both searching for the bird, Sand already nearby, otherwise it might have escaped his view, and Andraste, who was keeping his eyes and ears perked all over for the bird, but just couldn't seem to pinpoint his location near where he was looking, see this:

In front of the table where Thorin and Sebastian sit, a large puff of gold and silver smoke explodes into view, then collapses in on itself, only to momentarily reappear again.  One the smoke collapses once more, standing in it's place is Althaea, a knife to Sebastian's throat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:58, Wed 08 July 2020.

In reply to Takmarin (msg # 25):

Well that is not good. I make my way through the crowd towards Althaea as she holds the half-elf gentleman at knife-point. Got to see if I can get in her line of sight; I do not want to startle her. I stop 10 feet away from her keeping my hand well away from the sword at my hip, my right hand lightly holding the pendant on my necklace.

“Good evening neighbors. Althaea Sylvaranth do you mind if I call you Althaea? I am sorry but I do not know your names.” I say to the other two at the table while keeping my eyes focused on Althaea, trusting my peripheral vision to tell me if the others are going to do anything foolish. “Please, tell me what the problem is.” (Insight: 4)

Sand had been alone for the majority of his conscious life, these few short hours spent in Vertigo having been the most social interaction he ever had. And now he had to process a new concept, violence between sentient humanoids, as the bard that had given such a entrancing show a few minutes earlier was now threatening the half-elf dandy. The dagger did not waver as it was poised to strike at the neck. Instinctively, Clacker sensed the tension in his master and rushed from his resting place, knocking down a few chairs along the way, to stand beside the construct, mandible ready to strike. An observant person could even have noticed that the wood fibers on the warforged right arm seemed to weave out, before returning to their normal position. Needing all the help he could get to figure out this social interaction, Sand used a minor spell to enhance his comprehension.

He could hear Andraste trying to defuse the situation, but she was behind him, if something was to happen, he would need to be ready.

Sand not understand, Althaea, please explain to Sand what is happening. Did man hurt Althaea?

Further away, near the entrance to the rooms, another commotion took place, as Scamp finally sensed the summons of Sand and took flight, hooting loudly, doing a flyby right before the half-elf dandy’s face, before sweeping back to observe the situation.

Sand rolled 12 using 1d20+5.  Insight check - trying to figure out what is everyone role in the drama.
Sand rolled 1 using 1d4.  Guidance on the insight check.
Scamp used the flyby ability, causing a help action.

I turned my attention to Sebastian. In one fluid motion, I had disappeared from his view and reappeared behind him, a dagger to his throat. You sniveling mongrel, while you are correct, I cannot carry the cache of weapons, I am more than able to defend myself. I am not from this world, you see. The predators of my home and far more dangerous than yours. I would love to see you dance on a bar, with a newly made familiar that has not learned to behave and see if you retain your footing on a spilled drink. Oh, and you have to play the lute and sing while doing it.

At this point I could see Andraste coming over worriedly, Good evening neighbors. Althaea Sylvaranth do you mind if I call you Althaea? I am sorry but I do not know your names. Please tell me what the problem is.

I must have some sort of beacon on me. I could hear Sand chiming in as well, Sand not understand, Althaea, please explain to Sand what is happening. Did man hurt Althaea?

There is no problem. I have no intention to hurt him. No, he did not hurt me. As for the construct, whose name is Sand, feel free to ask him yourself. The other young woman is Andraste. Alaric will come with me, should I ask.

I released the dagger from his throat and turned my gaze between Thorin, Sand, and Andraste, who had shown up during my speech to Sebastian. I apologize for my behavior, Thorin. It is unbecoming of a lady to act in such a way. However, Sebastian has no reason for the attitude he bears against everyone. Turning back to look at Sebastian, It is unfortunate that you no longer have the power to control these people, but that does not give you permission to act as though the world is against you. Everyone is just trying to survive the best they can.

With things seemingly getting out of control quickly, both Sand and Andraste come to Althaea's side, trying to assess and diffuse the situation.

When the dagger is removed from his throat, Sebastian seems generally unscathed by Althaea's retort, though the perspiration running down his brow might suggest otherwise.  His gaze bounces quickly between the table and Thorin, not wanting to meet that of his oppressor.

Seemingly trying to appease the situation as well, which you can only imagine is unlike him, Sebastian says:  If you and your friends would all be willing to go and procure the cache of weapons from my keep and come up with SOME sort of solution to get the them back here, then that would be prove very helpful.

Quickly, and before Thorin can stop him, Sebastian says in Thorin's direction: I'm perfectly fine with her risking her life to prove she is worthy to stay here.  Earn her keep, by going to my keep.   He snickers to himself at his little play on words.

Thorin's voice, had a way of booming, though still managed to localize it so that it wouldn't echo through the walls of the inn:  Sebastian, I've had just about enough of your rudeness.  You are becoming more of a bane than a blessing and if this should continue, you will be forced outside the walls and no longer welcome in Vertigo.  Have I made myself clear? Sebastian nods, silent for once.

Althaea, if you and your friends are truly up to the task, and please know I'm not asking you to do this due to the danger involved, our people, would be grateful.

Sebastian, you will be accompanying them as well.  You've been stressing the importance of this for months, and unless you were just trying to get someone to collect some of your personal things and not had your heart set on helping these people, I expect you to go as a guide.  Your help would ensure an expeditious return for all.

What?  That is completely unnecessary.  She has said herself that she is most capable, I am sure she can figure it out on her own or at least with the help of the others. Sebastian exclaims, now seemingly worried.

It's at this moment, that the argument became moot and everything changed:

From out of the back storage room, east of the table where Thorin and Sebastian sit, two lone figures, with skin black as night and hair white as snow, silently emerge from the shadows within.  The purple eyes of the front figure, a male drow elf, flicker with disgust  right before he quietly makes an arcane gesture with his hands, and the room goes completely and utterly dark.

INITIATIVE!

General Note on positions:

Everyone is currently in the top left corner of the room.

Sebastian:  Currently in the seat in the top left corner of the room.
Althaea:  Is to the Northeast of Sebastian, against the back wall.
Thorin:  Sits opposite Sebastian and has his back to the Drow.
Andraste:  Directly South of Sebastian.
Sand and Clacker:  Directly South of Thorin.

Some additional notes:

The Darkness does reach the ceiling and you are ALL currently within the darkness.
Before the Darkness engulfed everything, there were no citizens other than Thorin sitting at the seat near you, between you and the Drow.
The Drow were last positioned with one at the door and one in front of the other, in the square NE of the end of the bar.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:07, Thu 09 July 2020.