"Forgive me, I poorly specified my antecedent! My mistake entirely," Idri explained, and returned the gambeson to dry by the fire while instead hanging up the chain itself on one of the tavern's presently-unlit fixtures. Then she reached with her absent arm to cast her spectral hand behind the bar and retrieve a good-sized bucket, which she placed below the mail and then filled with the lamp oil Khulekani had been provided.

"Now, I'll do a better job of this up at the forge tomorrow, but for now this should do the trick." Idrianthe took her hammer off her belt and casually flicked it around in her left hand until, quite literally by magic, she was holding similarly ornamented tongs instead. She used them to draw a small mark on her forehead in glowing blue script, then gripped the chainmail with the tongs to steady her focus. Then, in a clear voice, Idrianthe spoke the Jotun word for flame.

For only the briefest moment, heat surged through every ring and flushed Khulekani's mail a cherry red, searing away any moisture that remained in a cloud of steam, as well as whatever early motes of rust that might have had the chance to form, then Idri pulled the magic away and it rapidly began to cool again. When it was down to the color she wanted, the seasoned master used her tongs to thrust the mail down into the bucket, stabilized it with her foot, and worked it around in the oil with the sort of confident ferocity that came with skill. The bucket smoked a touch, but fortunately there wasn't enough oil to make a real mess of the air.

The result wasn't pretty, by any means. Lamp oil was fine for the task, but it didn't blacken the steel like good linseed oil might have, and she only had a pint to work with anyway. However, it did what she wanted, and left every ring with a thin layer of the oil seared onto its surface.

"And there you have it! Technically that's called blacking, but it's not literal in this case. The rings will have scraped most of the coating off against each other in... I should say a week, maybe two, of regular wear. But in the meanwhile, your armor will be more resistant to all the excess moisture we have to deal with. It may leave your gambeson messy, for which I heartily recommend Mallory's charm should it bother you, and I'll keep it oiled while we travel. Ironically that's normally the task of the squire, not the knight, but we're something of an unusual case."

Idrianthe held the mail out on the tongs, although her magic had fully drained away and now it was comfortably cool to the touch -- albeit a bit unpleasant in texture, hazard of the process. She was smiling ear to ear, so very obviously delighted to have gotten lost in her passion for a moment.

"A little oil and black flakes are hardly an imposition. Especially in the face of the kinds of dangers that we seem to be facing on a daily basis. Thank you my friend. You have saved me several hours of work. Someday, I hope to earn enough coin to purchase a suit of full plate. Oddly enough, I remember oiling and polishing the suits of my superiors was swifter than what I deal with. Combined with a quality surcoat, and I hope to protect my future armor more than what I have to endure these days," Khulekani said with a warm smile.

Idrianthe beamed at Khulekani, so utterly lost in the pudding of being useful that she was able to suppress some of the things that were weighing at the back of her mind.

"Rest is invaluable; it will always be worth my time to help good people get more of it. And I'll tell you what: The day you have even half what you need, you come to me. It's a boast, to be sure, but no warrior has ever regretted having my maker's mark on her armor -- and I know from experience. You'll be the envy of every auxiliary in your order when I'm done, and some of the knights as well! All the knights, if there's opportunity to fold it with magic." She started to ponder of any of the reagents Mallory had shown her could do the job of enchanting plate armor. It wasn't impossible, although pure theory for now unless Vellyne offered out several more carats of diamond.

"I am unable to commune with the dead myself, sadly," Vellyne said, indicating the three-eyed skull with the spiraling pattern. "But I can have it arranged. I'll also need someone with a firmer grasp on Loross to ask the questions, as mine is fairly rudimentary."

Vellynne spent the better part of Mallory's account simply listening, only occasionally asking some more prodding questions. Some, like 'how many books?' were promptly answered by the stack of physical copies Mallory presented. She tentatively reached an asking hand toward a tome, awaiting permission before she carefully turned the creaking pages. Throughout, she was more interested in the Netherese aspects native to the Spire as opposed to any that might have found their way inside post fall.

"You have surpassed my expectations," Vellynne nodded in conclusion as Mallory finished. "Well done. This amulet you have happened upon is particularly interesting. I hope you will give me permission to study it more closely. As for this Super Heavy Magic, I advise you to keep it from my eyes and ears. I have too much to benefit from sharing any potential breakthroughs with the Brotherhood."

"Such is the manner of my house, and the report of each employer who's given me a task since I've come to Ten-Towns: quick, thorough work with results exceeding expectations." It wasn't said as a boast but simply a matter of fact while Mallory otherwise gave a demure bow of her head.  "As for the follow-up research, there's still more to report and I can be of service there as well.  I'm quite fluent --" she gestured momentarily over the books and Neth skull alike "-- and can help facilitate you in that regard.  As for the other relics, I'd rather we give those greater examination somewhere less... populated.  If you have anywhere you know of, that would work, otherwise I'm quite content simply trekking out a short ways beyond the gates and setting up a magical barrier to work within."



To that, the young noble simply shrugged.  "Good of you to say, but it's hardly an issue to begin with.  Super Heavy Magic in this sort of form is like a lone cog from a Gnomish timepiece.  A fine, precision component, indeed, but comparatively worthless outside of its context and surrounding mechanisms." she elaborated.  "We took it more as a security measure to prevent further degradation to its housing artifact than anything else.  It's certainly worth investigation but is hardly the most pressing of affairs compared to others at hand.  Speaking of which... pardon me one moment; it's about to become a little chaotic in here."

---

It's been an hour now, so that'll be one casting of Find Familiar completed.  Going to need to do some component shopping soon...

---

All throughout the extended conversation Mallory had been at work and, with that moment of warning, had apparently completed her task.  A gloved hand waved over the brazier of herbs and charcoal before its contents abruptly burst into an intense, near-colorless flame that warped the air as Mallory gathered the whole thing up.  Brazier cupped within her palms as she lifted it to her lips and filled her mouth with its still-burning contents, seemingly without discomfort.  There she held in silence for a few moments, eyes shut and lips pursed in focus, while memories flickered about in her mind's eye as they did every time she cast certain spells.  For a moment she was a child again - small, hair braided, eyes and face red from crying, clutching an old tome to her chest with stubborn intent.  She always recalled the dawning wonder in the moment she cast her first true magic, when she refused to let that awful killing spell define what spellcraft would be for her.  When, through focus and preparation and an aching plea from the depths of her heart, she was able to reach out beyond the Veil and call forth a true friend...

Thus, in the present moment, Mallory swallowed the embers and the memory alike.  With a deep exhalation she blew a long stream of pale white smoke from her lips that roiled into the drawn glyph, to fill its space and extend no further.  Like a storm in a bottle the smoke whirled and danced and rapidly took condensed form until it manifested into a familiar shape.  Ashen fur, tail curled to his side, owl-like wings folded peacefully down his back... the still form of Astre restored, sat with his head bowed and eyes shut in echo of Mallory's own pose.  In perfect unison, together, they each raised their heads and saw - before anything else - each other's gaze meeting their own.  A moment of serene greeting, of joining and reunion, just the same as when the two first met with childish eyes full of wonder so many years ago.

...a serenity which lasted precisely as long as it took for Astre to throw his head back and give the most pathetic RRRRROOOOOOWWWWWWLLLLLL~! at the top of his lungs anyone could ever hate to hear.

"Astre!  Gods, you're going to wake the entire place!  Will you-- for the love of, we're fine!  We're all here, we're all fine, now please!  Astre!" the young noble's efforts to console her Familiar were of little good as the Tressym promptly threw himself into her chest in a fit of cuddling and rubbing, apparently quite distressed.  No sooner had she tried to gather him up in her arms than he just scampered right over her shoulder and around to the other side to leap at Rhydd!  Headbutts and rubbing his face over and over the man's bearded jaw so long as he wasn't hoisted away on the spot.  Nor were any of the others spared as he went from one person to the next in a rapid tizzy.  A whirlwind of kitty affection.  Just as before, Astre was intent on winding, rubbing, and otherwise assaulting each of his companions in a fit of relief at seeing them all still alive.  Thankfully he'd at least quieted down to chirps and mewls, but he was still making quite a fuss regardless.

"He's like this every time he gets disincorporated." Mallory apologized as Astre was presently intent on trying to burrow into Khulekani's side, only to abandon her and bounce over to Idri a moment later for more of the same.  "In case none of you speak Tressym; he won't stop apologizing about letting everyone down before."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:18, Mon 31 July 2023.

"Hroo!" Mercuri hooted at both Astre's manifestation and his outburst. The Barn Owl vigorously flapped his wings, but remained affixed to the back of Vellynne's chair. Unlike how a Tressym's intelligence rivaled sapience, and unless Vellynne had somehow augmented it, a Barn Owl's was that of any animal's and carried all the territorial instincts one would expect. Still, he calmed once it was clear the Tressym posed nothing but a fluffy, cuddly threat. So long as he kept such cuddles away from him. Vellynne, however, extended a knuckle for him to greet, and Allie wanted very much to be included among the cuddlees.

---

I don't have anything further to offer the conversation. Should we forward to the next day?

Rhydd welcomed Astre's affections with a huge grin and lots of fur-stroking. He returned the feline's head-butts by rubbing his beard-whiskers on Astre's fur. After a moment, he laughed and began crooning in a low voice "You're a good kitty, oh yes, you are!"

"Astre is the bestest kitty of all, the very bestest kitty! Yes you are! The very bestest!"

Once Astre had moved on to other companions, the archer turned to Mallory. "I wish you the joy of your reunion," he said with a smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:20, Thu 03 Aug 2023.

By the time Rhydd turned to Mallory, he'd find she had already been watching him more than Astre.  Chin propped in her hand as she leaned at the table's edge, with a languid sort of smile drawn across her lips.

"We're absolutely getting you a Familiar." she hummed, seemingly quite smitten with his display.

Over the next two hours, while Mallory conducted her rituals and with the permission of their retrievers, Vellynne examined the various artifacts in closer detail.

---

Mallory's Identify on the chest: The chest is under the effects of Arcane Lock, but is otherwise mundane.

Mallory's Identify on the Illithid Laser Pistol: This peculiar device it fitted with various modified Psi Crystals, each of a different color, functioning as Spell Gems with multiple charges. The Pistol has a cylinder with four chambers, each with a loading/unloading mechanism, which can be rotated to align a chosen crystal with the barrel of the Pistol. The Pistol requires Attunement to fire.

• Laser Bolt (5 charges): You shoot a beam of concentrated light at a Creature or Object within 120'. Make a Ranged Attack against the Target. On a hit, the target takes 3d6 + 2 Radiant Damage. A flammable Object hit by this Attack ignites if it isn't being worn or carried.
• Enlarge/Reduce (2 charges): Make a Ranged Attack against the Target. On a Hit, the Target is subjected to the effects of the Spell Enlarge/Reduce. The effect is determined at random, lasts for 1 minute, and does not require the shooter's Concentration to maintain.
• Misty Step (2 charges): Make a Ranged Attack against the Target. On a Hit, the Target is subjected to the effects of the Spell Misty Step. The destination is determined at random.
  
• Polymorph (1 charge): Make a Ranged Attack against the Target. On a Hit, the Target is subjected to the effects of the Spell Polymorph. The new form and the Duration of the effect (minimum 1 minute) is determined at random and does not require the shooter's Concentration to maintain.

---

You all get a Long Rest.

---

While everyone else got some needed sleep, Vellynne spent the time examining the artifacts and tomes she was allowed to in further detail, taking notes where she could. Allie stayed up alongside her, while Cori eventually rose to tend the kitchen. A groggy Trovus, too, found his way inside to sit by the hearth once the latter hours of morning rolled in, brushing off snow from another night spent outside in the biting cold.

“I have contacted the Host Tower,” Vellynne told Mallory once she had risen. Allie had arranged a table as Cori prepared a very belated breakfast, which Trovus was happy to indulge in. “They will provide someone who can speak with the dead. However,” she continued, “after some deliberation we have decided they will not come here, so I will have to bring the remains to them. All I need to do is draw up the teleportation circle. Because it’s a matter of security, only one of you may accompany me, and you must be prepared to leave any weapon and foci behind.” She looked to both Mallory and Idrianthe as the natural choices.

---

“You’re a ranger from hereabouts, I gather?” Trovus inquired Rhydd, contentedly resigning himself from talk of magic. “I’ve heard Nimsy, the speaker over in Lonelywood, has need of one. Apparently a Moose – yes, a bloody Moose! – has been terrorizing the loggers . . . I’d have gone myself hadn’t I had duties of my own to see to.” He took a hearty swig of Kaeth, which, along with a thick blanket, had gradually brought up his internal temperature after the particularly harsh and blustery night. “If you find yourself there, do go talk to her. She’s one of the good ones. Haven’t lost her raving mind like the rest of ‘em.”

“I received a writ from Lonelywood last evening,” Allie chimed in as she sweeped the floor, “speaking of some murders. Seven killed. Terrible, horrible. Anyone with information on the perpetrator were to forward it to their local Speaker or the constable.”

Trovus shook his head. “Mad times, these . . .”
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:19, Tue 08 Aug 2023.

Mallory did not rise for quite some time.

Once she'd concluded her initial round of affairs with Vellynne and finally retired to a room, she stayed up a while longer still in beleaguered study over her various notes and materials.  Preparation was worth its weight in gold, as the saying went, even if it was a massive pain in the ass to endure setting up.  Eventually she found her way to the battered old bed and let herself collapse into a deep, thankfully dreamless slumber, soothed to sleep both by sheer exhaustion and the comforting presence of Astre laid across her chest and purring deep into the night.

Even with breakfast being held later than usual, it was already halfway done by the time Mallory finally dragged herself out of bed to come rejoin the land of the living.  Though as immaculately made-up and coifed as she ever was, the dark rings that hung about her eyes remained to show she'd really not gotten anywhere near as much rest as she truly needed.  She half-slumped at the breakfast table with her brow rested in an upturned palm, intent on ignoring the impositions of reality until she had at least two or three cups of Kaeth in her first.  Said caffeinated beverages and a hearty plate of food, however, did wonders to get her into a more cooperative state by the time Vellynne's desire for progress overwhelmed her patience.

"Can hardly blame 'em for not want'n to come ou'." Mallory muttered about a mouthful of sausage.  Her normally impeccable table manners had waned in the moment; they'd not had a proper meal since the day prior and she was absolutely famished.  She did take a beat to recompose herself with a swallow of Kaeth, however, and began again.  "As for the remains, we'll have to work out an agreement on where they ultimately end up along with matters of compensation for our work thus far, as well as any more yet to come.  The Host Tower aren't the only ones interested in questions for the dead, after all."  The young noble had her own endeavors and uses for the various remains they'd recovered and wasn't about to simply hand them over willy-nilly.  Still, there was no reason an agreement couldn't be reached.

"All I need to do is draw up the teleportation circle. Because it’s a matter of security, only one of you may accompany me, and you must be prepared to leave any weapon and foci behind.”

That drew an inquisitive brow up.  "You know that spell?  I've always been fond of Oberon's works and that's certainly one of his better creations, even if it has degraded over the years." she nodded approvingly on the notion of being able to jaunt away with magic, having since shown quite a knack for playing with spacial allocation herself.  When the matter of who would go with Vellynne came up, however, her expression darkened in concern and she cast a look to Idri.  "I understand a need for discretion, but surely there's no harm in more than one of us being present...?  Idri and I worked together to compile our findings from our differing backgrounds - the report would be incomplete with only one of us present to give it."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:44, Tue 08 Aug 2023.

---

I wasn't familiar with Oberon until now, but Vellynne absolutely would be.

---

"I have been extensively studying Netherese history for the better part of a year now," Vellynne answered. "We owe a lot of modern spellcasting to the Netherese, Oberon being just one among them. I highly doubt we will uncover more of his legacy specifically, as he seems to stand in stark opposition to the at best tenuous values of Ythryn." Vellynne leaned back, merely observing the breakfast array as she'd eaten hours ago. Over the course of Morning and Highsun she'd alternated between the taproom and her own personal room, preferring to only write into her spellbook while in private.

"All veteran agents of the Brotherhood are expected to know the teleportation circles. As for compensation," she continued, "neither I nor the Brotherhood have agreed to be your patrons. Thus far, we have cooperated because it is mutually beneficial. I hope it continues to be." To Mallory's proposal of bringing both her and Idrianthe along to the Host Tower, she drew her lips in skepticism. "I will try to convince them. Do understand that an institution like the Brotherhood is wary of accomodating adventurers. Especially several at a time. Since the reformation infiltration has been a constant threat."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:54, Tue 17 Oct 2023.

In reply to DM Bears (msg # 138):

"I am not, strictly speaking, numbered amongst Eyes-of-the-Hawk's band of rangers," Rhydd replied to Trovus' assumption.

"That said, I flatter myself that I am at home in the Wilds as many rangers," he hastened to add.

The archer listened as the other man spoke on. "A moose, you say?" Rhydd echoed.

"Loggers are generally a rough lot. And logging is not a solitary endeavor. An animal such as a moose attacking a group of such people sounds . . . unusual."

~Almost as unusual as a couple of Trolls daring to attack an entire town.~

"And adding in the murders that you mention . . ." Rhydd commented, glancing now at Allie, " Lonelywood does seem to have more than its fair measure of Troubles these days."

"I shall certainly keep these things in mind, although I cannot say where our travels might next take my companions and myself."

"Indeed, indeed.  My first tutor of the arcane was deeply invested in Netherese methodology, so it's likewise been the foundation of my own practices.  I'm far from a traditionalist, but a solid grounding in their fundamental works cannot be overstated." Mallory seemed quite proud of the fact.  It had served her well her entire career, after all.  Despite the awfulness the Neth got up to as a society and the ultimate end they brought upon themselves, their works were still the stuff of wonders.  "It really is a shame.  I mean, there's figures like Matick who are among the founders of modern arcana, buuuuuu-t he was also a bigoted, genocidal maniac who killed hundreds of thousands of innocents.  And, of course, Karsus himself simply goes without saying."

Despite the dire topic itself, Mallory was just happy to have a moment of relative normalcy to enjoy.  Being able to speak on scholarly matters over a meal with genuine peers was something she'd missed terribly in the months she'd been on the road.  Her thoughts promptly shifted onto Dannika in idle curiosity of how she, Moyrah, and their little Chingwa friend were doing, though she rallied her focus when Vellynne spoke further on coming plans.

"I will try to convince them. Do understand that an institution like the Brotherhood is wary of accomodating adventurers. Especially several at a time. Since the reformation infiltration has been a constant threat."

To that, the young noble blew a faint scoff out her nose - though whether it was disdain of the label or self-deprecation of her being given it after her performance at The Spire was anyone's guess.  "Well, they should be quite at ease then, seeing as how I'm far from an adventurer.  I'm a scholar and a merchant, Madame Harpell, even if I am unafraid of doing my own dirty work.  I'm hardly a threat to anyone, let alone those I'd hope to entertain a fruitful working relationship with going forward.  Especially since you'll surely need capable hands and willing boots in your own endeavors throughout the Dale.  Personally, I'm terribly curious about your missing Professor Orb." she swirled her Kaeth about its mug for a moment and drummed a fingertip at the edge to send a small surge of magic through it, which brought the drink back up to a freshly steaming warmth on the spot.

"As for future plans and patronage, you may wish to hold your decision on that until we finish addressing all of our experiences at The Spire, as they may color your approach on other goals.  Full context and all." There had been those pointed moments of delay in their previous discussion, after all, and some elements not revealed.  Once they could secure some privacy, that would change.  "Plus there's the matter of the locked silver chest.  Surely you'll want to see what it contains yourself, before your fellows?"

"Plus there's the matter of the locked silver chest.  Surely you'll want to see what it contains yourself, before your fellows?"
"I would like nothing more," Vellynne said and took swig of her own Kaeth and grimaced. This batch had been made particularly bitter, to Trovus liking, but milk was currently scarce in Icewind Dale. While other settlements such as Good Mead and Easthaven still accommodated Cows, Caer-Konig got theirs mostly from their stock of Rothé, which had been dwindling. "Nor do I have a particular desire to tell the Brotherhood about your findings as I don't know what will reach Avarice's ears. I have been discrete about my own. So if you do happen to be prompted, and I will facilitate it so you aren't, kindly play a bit dumb for me."

Mallory recognized the scowl that followed a swallow of properly strong Kaeth and felt a brief pang of homesickness; she recalled her sister with a similar expression when she first tried learning to like 'grown-up drinks'.  Just as Mallory had back then, she gave a silent 'may I?' sort of gesture Vellynne's way regarding her mug and, if allowed, would tap its edge with another surge of simple magics.  So long as Vellynne consented to it, she'd find her Kaeth lightened in color and flavor alike, as if it had just gotten a pour of fresh, mildly sweet milk from nowhere.  A mere trick of the senses though; a sip would provide no change in the drink's texture or fullness, even if the flavor had improved.

---

"Prestidigitation" remains the best spell in game the game.  Accept no substitutes.

---

"I've no intention of sharing any of our findings at The Spire.  Selling them is another matter, though certainly not before I've had my full use of their potential myself.  As I'm sure your Brotherhood would agree: some things are more valuable than mere coin.

But a certain portion of our findings fall specifically under our contract with you.  So long as you are our benefactor, then your best interests are as my own, and I will defer to any limitations you impose on our operations." A rather mercenary approach, all things considered, but Mallory was indeed a merchant and noble alike.  So long as the terms of an agreement were honored and trust not violated, she'd not betray it herself.  "As for the chest; our inspection of its mechanisms yields that a combined effort with the help of Idri and Farwalker should do the trick.  Since we found it within a personal bedchamber, whatever it contains must be of importance one way or another."

Vellynne politely declined when Mallory offered to milden her Kaethe, insisting on drinking the bitter brew. "I refrain from using magic for mundanities. Call it a pride of mine."

Farwalker took Mallory's hint. "It is ironic, by Sune, show your fair face," she said as she waved a hand across the enchanted chest, brilliant lights trailing her fingertips, "how one can be rid of magic by casting more magic." The safeguarding aura lifted like subtle, luminescent vapor. Farwalker tore off a piece from the heel of bread she was holding and ate it. "Or perhaps it isn't at all."

---

As mentioned previously, it'll be a DC 16 Thieves' Tools (Dexterity) check to open the locked chest.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 09:11, Fri 11 Aug 2023.

Before the lock on the chest could be picked, a few rapid knocks sounded on the door before it opened. In strode a broad Goliath clad in resplendent splint armor.

Farwalker seemed to recognize him. "Stormheart," she spoke. "It's been long." So too did the Shorards know this Goliath, and he them. Trovus, however, had no clue who this individual was for the same reason he had no idea who Rhydd was – he had simply not been present in Icewind Dale upon their earlier forays to Caer-Konig.

The goliath had a wide grin on his face and his arms spread out wide. His voice boomed when he spoke, encompassing all present. "Kin! Friends! Unknown people! Greetings to ALL!"

He strode first up to Farwalker, touching his heart and then his forehead before reaching out to offer a warrior's handclasp. "It's always long between sightings for such as us, but the moment we see once more warms the heart." He hesitated and looked a touch uncomfortable though he tried to play it off, "Being the...unexpected guest of someone powerful can be...thrilling, dangerous, ultimately best kept to short and infrequent occurrences."

To those he didn't know - or hadn't been formally introduced to previously - he faced and gave a nod of his head. "I am Stormheart, of the same tribe as Farwalker. It's good to meet you in a comfortable setting." He smiled once more.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:55, Sat 26 Aug 2023.

Farwalker stood to grasp Stormheart firmly by the forearm as he did hers. "Denz maat zo see deg harten ag vel," Farwalker said in Jotun. 'It's good to see you hearty and well' would be the rough translation. "Sit and eat with us, and let us speak of our journeys. I myself have much to tell you." She indicated those who had been her traveling companions these last eight days.

"It's good to see the Goliaths, at least, are on our side. I am Trovus," the Silver Dragonborn at the table growled, "retired guardsman, former adventurer with little knack for adventuring, hence 'former', and newcomer to these parts . . ."

"Don't forget 'Town Speaker'," Allie added.

Trovus grumbled. ". . . yes, and Town Speaker, against everyone's better judgement."

Being a man of few words himself, the dark-haired Human dressed in a chain shirt and weathered leather leggings returned the newcomer's nod with one of his own.

He noted the friendly greetings exchanged between Goliaths, and surrepticiosly (he hoped) moved his hand away from the handle of his rapier.

"Rhydd Maldohn," he added after a moment, his eyes still on the one who had given his name as "Stormheart".

"A friend of Farwalker's is a friend of mine."

Vellynne's gentle refusal was taken with a shrug as Mallory conceded it, though personally she felt that such restraint was just a self-inflicted wound.  To abstain from indulgence or to avoid over-reliance on magic were their own affairs, certainly, but to deprive oneself of simple comforts over pride?  That just struck her as silly.

Don't forget 'Town Speaker'," Allie added.

Trovus grumbled. "... yes, and Town Speaker, against everyone's better judgement."

At which point Mallory promptly sputtered and choked on her own kaeth.  She hurriedly leaned aside to cough, hand drawn to her mouth to try and hide that embarrassing reaction.  "Wrong pipe..." she weakly excused.  The young noble hastened to recover her bearings and offered Stormheart as demure a smile as she could manage after that faux pas.

"Indeed, it's lovely to meet you, sir.  I'm Mallory Bonheur of Neverwinter.  We've been traveling and working alongside Farwalker for a few days now.  She's quite the stalwart ally." she introduced herself with a bow of her head.  "You're actually quite timely - we were just about to open the coffers of our most recent misadventure together and see what mysteries it might hold."

"We have just returned from exploring an ancient Netherese spire of, what was it, Ythryn? Fun, that. Except for when the Frostmaiden showed up," Farwalker said matter-of-factly. That last part did catch Vellynne's attention, seeing as she hadn't been made privy to that fact yet, but Vellynne narrowed her eyes as her expression turned somewhat sour as she more so focused on the first part.

"Is this your definition of 'tight-lipped'?" Vellynne urged.

"I have never agreed to anything," Farwalker shrugged as she popped another piece of bread into her mouth.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:32, Mon 21 Aug 2023.

"I'm certain Farwalker is speaking metaphorically.  There was some great wintery beast which briefly skulked about outside the Spire, but we avoided it and don't know what it was.  No need to go spreading around baseless rumors and worrying people." There was a particular edge of warning in Mallory's tone on that last part as she gave Farwalker a decidedly keen glare.  There was a very good reason she chose an abundance of discretion in her own report to Vellynne, after all.

The young noble did indeed lean a bit closer to their employer-for-the-moment and spoke in a low, apologetic tone at her ear.  "I'm afraid Farwalker is as subtle as an avalanche.  Previously, she intruded on a private business meeting of mine by literally ripping the entire door out the wall with her bare hands.  It wasn't even locked." she muttered in a low, patient tone that spoke of some level of resignation to fate.  "But she also has frankly little concern for becoming involved with people in general.  You needn't worry of her spreading word around Ten-Towns."

Stormheart nodded to Farwalker and gave one shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Many thanks for hospitality! It has been quite a cold journey!" He looked at each person as they spoke, giving an encouraging and friendly to each person that introduced themselves, attempting to commit names with faces and then both to memory.

He gave a shrug, "Coffers? Treasure?" He spread his hands. "I am a simple Goliath. I have little use for money but now and again, though I do like shiny and magical things." He lightly tapped the silvery armor he was wearing with a smile. Then he remembered something. "Oh! Like while I am in town, I need to purchase some supplies, actually. Which...requires money. So I do have some." He chuckled.

His broad smile began to slowly fade, as he became less friendly and more...confused. The Frostmaiden? That would be concerning if true, but there seemed some...contention about it. He held up a hand. "Please, friends. Do not worry. I am not some hotheaded youth running around blabbering away to everyone I meet. I know how to keep things secret if they must be. And if...that is not what occurred, that is also not a worry." One eyebrow rose up as he was trying to get a gauge of what was being and not said.

He leaned towards Farwalker and lowered his voice a little, "Actually. I have come seeking you and your companions. There are things afoot that I need help with, if possible. We can speak at a better time about it, though."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:55, Sat 26 Aug 2023.