Tales of Faerun

[GrueMaster]

Dri gave a start as Amendale's owl landed on her shoulder and delivered a message to her. All to myself? she thought, taking a swipe at the bird for Amendale's impudence but missing as it flew away. A little embarrassed by such cheekiness, but she got up and went to Weyland's room all the same; She didn't quite feel comfortable with sleeping in the same room as the others as she did with the older Grey brother. Cracking the door slowly and seeing the man asleep, she gave a soft smile and crept in quietly.

 

Por Weyland, she thought, amused at seeing him passed on still in full armor. Stifling a giggle, she carefully place a blanket over him and planted a kiss on the back of his head, before slipping quietly into her own bed and falling asleep.

 

--------------------------------------------

Tenebris spent the entire night at the counter, sipping at some cheap ale throughout the night and not sleeping at all. Damn it all, Jergal, he cursed soundlessly, still disgruntled over his failure to act on the signs given earlier. Why did you ever mark me like this?

 

This litany continued well unto morning, at which point he cast a baleful eye at the sun light creeping through the inn doors and ignoring everyone, having gotten drunk at some point during the night. Red-eyed and irritable, Tenebris constantly muttered and cursed as he gathered his things.

 

Tak'we spent the night wandering the inn, keeping guard over his clutchmates and every possible entrance he could see. He almost prayed that an enemy would try to attack, wanting greatly to rend the fool for ever daring to threaten his clutch. This did happen, however, both relieving and disappointing the thri-kreen as Mighty Sun came up. Well, thank you Mother Moon for granting my friends rest, he offered quietly, before depleting the considerable store of bacon the innkeeper had, much to the dismay of many of the current guests who had risen early.

 

"Rhaine, Tak'we is going to market for supplies," he told the winged pointy-ear, before getting up and heading for the door. "I will be back soon." In truth, he wanted to ask around if anyone had seen another thri-kreen, the tools he found yesterday having left him uneasy, and wanted to do so before the large crowds of softskins swarmed the streets.

 

Unfortunately, few softskins were out yet, many of the stalls and booths still empty, and those few people had no knowledge he could use. *Tck'tck...* he clicked, slightly discouraged at the results of his search. He studied the bladed staff in his hands. Maybe the gythka really was just fou- *SSCREEEEE!!!!*

 

Tak'we nearly jumped at the sudden cry, too familiar for him to dismiss, and far too close to be outside the village walls. *NRAK'TCK!*Moving with long strides, he frantically searched for the source of the shrieking and thri-kreen cursing. He turned a corner and finally found his quarry.

 

A thri-kreen, clearly a female, judging from her smaller frame, was surrounded by eight softskins, who were attempting to get closer to her only to narrowly dodge a swiping claw. Tak'we felt his temper rising at the scene, and wondered why she didn't simply jump past them to get away. He saw the answer to question when one softskin fell over backwards cursing; her feet were chained together, as were two of her arms, having managed to slip the other two out. "Come on, you lot!" a fat softskin shouted at the eight men. "Can't you catch one measly bug? I need it ready to sell in the morning auctions before the clientele get here!"

 

The insult being the last grain of sand he could take, Tak'we pulled out the three chatkchas and hurled them with all his anger at the softskins' legs. Two of the throwing wedges missed, making the pink thri-kreen curse his lack of practice, but the third one hit, sinking deeply into one of the slave guard's legs. The other men, suddenly alert, spun round and drew various weapons, while the slave trader began calling out for the local guards and reinforcements.

 

Tak'we scattered the first couple of men, shrieking madly as he ran towards the female, who took the opportunity to catch one captor by surprise and knocking him unconscious. The pink thri-kreen had gotten closer when suddenly several nets came down and entangled both insectoids, sending Tak'we into a fit of cursing and hissing as more softskins appeared and began whacking at them with saps and staves to suppress their struggles. Fully caught in the nets, he looked at the female and gave a frustrated look; captured again...

 

As the slavers began gathering up the wounded, many of whom had vicious claw marks and slashes on them, and city guards began arriving, he began praying that his clutchmates would hopefully have heard the trouble. Seeing one guard hurry away towards the way Tak'we had come, he felt slightly encouraged; maybe they would bring his clutchmates and get both of them out of this travesty. "Don't worry, all will be fine," he chattered in thri-kreen to the female. She remained silent, doubt obvious in her downcast eyes. *Ssss* "Stupid softskins..."

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine was in the process of helping Conall onto his grey horse when a loud cacophony came from the market area. Her brow furrowed, and then her eyes widened as the same sound of panicked screams split the air, "Oh no...Tak'we..."

 

"Dammit, not again!" Zorica hissed, drawing her weapons, "What do we do?"

 

The Doomguide drew her own weapon, "Follow me!" Jumping atop Azrael, she spurred the great horse into a gallop, pushing her way through the crowds and into the market district to see the source of the trouble...

 

Tak'we and another thri-kreen were caught in heavy netting by a group of slavers. Rhaine didn't need to think twice to realize what had happened, and she knew it was going to take no small amount of persuasion to get them to let the pair go. Azrael stamped the ground and chomped at his bit as he was pulled to a stop, the heat of the region already making his flanks shiny with sweat.

 

After a few breaths, Dagny and Zorica caught up to her, the former loudly panting as she bent over and grasped her knees, "Agh...What'd they do? Capture the poor pink thing?"

 

"Looks like," Zorica remarked, slowly sheathing her swords.

 

"We must free them," Conall spoke as he reined his horse near Azrael. His voice was tinged with exhaustion, but his eyes held an intimidating fire, "Somehow, some way."

 

Oddly enough, Argyros had vanished again, but Rhaine pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she focused her attention on the guards, one of whom was running right for her...

[Flipout6]

Weyland woke up relatively early in the morning as a direct result of the discomfort of sleeping in a heavy metal suit, having not moved the entire night. He was quick to notice the blanket draped over him when he pushed himself up and shrugged it off. When he looked to the bed next to him and was mildly surprised to see Dri's sleeping form laying on it, but he smiled gently and "tip-toed" (Minimized the blaring ruckus his armored boots made when they touched the wooden floor) out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Once downstairs, he bought two plates of breakfast (decrying the Tak'We-induced lack of bacon with no small amount of disappointment) and brought it back up to their room. He placed one plate on the nightstand beside Dri and then sat down on the end of his own bed and began to eat, glancing to the door every now and again. After the incident yesterday he wasn't going to be leaving her unattended and asleep. Not in a hundred years.

 

As the morning wore on Amendale passed by the room and shot his friend a sly grin, while Arland simply gave him a questioning look, to which Weyland responded by shushing him and waving him onwards. He was relieved when nothing happened during the course of the morning. When she woke up Weyland gestured to her breakfast with a grin.

 

"Don't need to worry about any under-clothed forays for breakfast today." He told her. "Tak'We took all the bacon, though. Bugger." He suppressed a snicker when he noticed his own unintentional pun. "Thanks for the blanket, by the way."

 

Later on, when the party was packed up and ready to leave, Weyland couldn't help but take cautious glances all around and into the crowd, wary for any further attack. He did notice that, for whatever reason, Marie seemed to be looking at Arland strangely, but he'd ask about that later.

 

Suddenly the screeching and fighting from deeper in the marketplace caught their attention. Weyland shrugged his shield off his back and spurred his horse into action, arriving on the scene just a few paces behind Rhaine.

 

"What's going o-" As his eyes took in the scene before him, they narrowed almost into slits. A snarl curled on his lip.

 

"I can go knock a few around for you." Arland offered the Doomguide. "Don't have to kill them, I can fight without killing."

 

"That's a mercy they don't deserve." Weyland responded instantly. "What's the plan? I don't intend to leave this city until every capture these scumbags 'own'-" The last word was dripping with spite. "-is free." When Connall indicated a similar desire Weyland looked sidelong at the werewolf with respect in his eyes, but only for a brief moment, before returning to the task at hand.

 

"Weyland, you're not about to do something stupid, are you?" Amendale asked uncertainly, sidling up beside him.

 

"Fortunately for them, I'm not Arland. No need to worry about me acting brashly."

 

Marie looked forlornly at the lines of enslaved thri'kreen being escorted past them. She thought of them as uncivilized barbarians still, despite Tak'We proving that there were good spirits among them, but they looked so miserable and broken in the cuffs and the nets. The longer she watched the worse she felt, as she gradually realized that this was apparently well within the law in the city here or, if it wasn't, the guard didn't care. To a noble girl like her, to see something like this and realize it was likely a daily occurrence was shocking. She tried and failed to keep her face blank, but Annette obviously caught on that something was wrong and looked at her with a puzzled expression. Marie shook her head and steeled herself, playing strong.

 

"Who's this fella?" Sybille suddenly asked, gesturing to the guard running to the group.

Edited June 19, 2014 by Flipout6

[Deleted6317247User]

Nawen was standing in the streets, holding Kiira's reins and waiting for the others when Shalena approached the group.

 

"It seems that our giant insect friend got into a bit of a trouble." The piratess said her words followed by panicked screams. "I swear, this place is in love with accidents." She said but Nawen paid no attention to it as she began walking towards the commotion, Rhegar followed her as fast as he could.

 

"Slavers." Shalena said once they got to the scene, "I've been around them enough to tell them apart, though these guys are too obvious." She added.

 

"Any suggestions?" Nawen asked.

 

"We could buy Tak'we, and if you're feeling generous the other one too." The piratess said.

 

"How about we just beat them up and free Tak'we and the female thri-kreen?" Nawen suggested. "We're leaving the town anyway, and they don't deserve anything better."

 

Shalena grinned widely. "I like the way you think. Always up for a fun fight."

[AurianaValoria1]

After speaking with the guards and ultimately paying a hefty sum in gold, Rhaine managed to free both Tak'we and the other female thri-kreen. Once that grim business was settled, they were able to finally depart Innarlith, albeit with some glares from the guardsmen and many mutterings of "good-riddance."

 

To their dismay, they found Theia's familiar, Kyli, dead outside of town, pinned to a tree by a crossbow bolt. The centauress herself was nowhere to be found, and they feared the worst. Perhaps the assassin had succeeded in slaying her when he or she had failed to eliminate his or her other targets...

 

The party then turned south and traveled for two days straight - across the hot and vast plains of the Shaar after passing through the Firesteap Mountains and skirting the outer edges of the Duskwood. On the evening of the third day, the Wyrmbones came into sight, towering over the southernmost edge of the grasslands and casting an imposing shadow over the land. At the base of the mountains was the city of Kormul, bordered by Lake Lhespen. Perhaps here they could make final preparations before their assault on Saris's fortress. Rhaine remembered Fitalis's words and his gift, and she was certain that the elan had chosen a surface ruin in the Wyrmbones as her base of operations, especially since the female thri-kreen had pointed them this way as well.

 

As the Doomguide directed the weary Azrael towards the city gates, she spoke to the others, "Well...here we are. Perhaps our last chance to fully rest and refresh ourselves before we face Kalin's captors. Let us make the most of it, shall we?"

 

From her place behind Azuris, Dagny whistled, "Don't have to tell me twice, lassie."

 

"Nor I," Zorica agreed, nodding emphatically from behind Conall, whom she was certain she was supporting as much as he was keeping her from falling off of the saddle. The werewolf had not fared well in the past few days, and exhaustion was still plain on his face. He said nothing, and he only barely grunted his approval.

[josh900]

"Oh wonderful." Tannin said to Rhaine's announcement. "Time for us to all risk our lives for someone we hardly know or will most likely not be of any use to us by now. Were we not rushing to save our dear friend Kablen, who knows how many more we could have saved along the way."

 

"Kalin." Lucas corrected.

 

"Whatever. Either way we're charging into the lair of a powerful psionic... willingly." Tannin said grimly.

 

"Are you... scared?" Lucas asked.

 

"Nope, befuddled. A, this probably a trap, and B, either way it's a dumb move." He said irritably.

 

"Didn't think you were one to walk away from a fight." Lucas smirked.

 

"I walk away from every fight, well... sometimes I have to limp or crawl."

 

"That's not what I meant."

 

"I know, I try and avoid any fight that isn't worth it, too dangerous for everyone involved, and ones this thing..." He said putting a hand on the hilt of BlackRazor. "Reeeeaaallllyyy wants."

 

"And what sort of fight is this then?"

 

"All the above." Tannin said with a sigh.

 

 

"So no one else is concerned at all that we just... Left Hexol back there?" Azuris chimed in.

 

"Are you complaining about the quiet?" Tannin chuckled.

 

"No, I'm complaining about the future headache we're in for." Azuris grumbled.

 

"Which one? The one from our next fight? The one from the incredibly long ride east, or the one from our little friend's return and he tells us all about the adventure he's had in great detail?" Tannin asked with a laugh.

 

"All the above." Azuris grumbled.

[Flipout6]

Both Weyland and Arland made their objections to letting the slavers get away- not only with their lives, but with some of the group's gold - well-known to Rhaine as they rode out of town. Even Sybille looked disappointed and frustrated that they weren't doing anything, but unlike her brothers recognized that trying to persuade Rhaine otherwise was probably futile.

 

Weyland emphasized the kind of joy and happiness the extra captives would experience upon being freed and the torment they had the potential to go through even with (comparatively) merciful masters, and would use Tak'We as an example every now and again of how even the Thri'Kreen would be subjugated without mercy, let alone weaker races. Arland pointed out how they'd be removing slavers from the world ("Always a good thing!" He stated.) and that it'd be a short detour with a big payoff, even with their lack of time on their minds.

 

When Rhaine said that they'd be arrested by guards that were just begrudgingly doing their jobs, Arland named all the incidents where he'd ever incapacitated somebody with minimal injury and that he'd done the same to law enforcement in the past.

 

The debating and arguing continued for several minutes, ending with the Grey brothers both in terrible moods, frustrated and angry with both Rhaine and their own inability to pull off any rescues on their own, and Marie for reluctantly taking Rhaine's side in the conflict and emphasizing the need to save their strength for the coming battle.

 

For once both Weyland and Arland were on the same page. When they set up a fire neither of them said anything besides grunting and muttering angrily to themselves, though Weyland felt stronger about the issue than Arland did, and it showed with his rough actions and hunched posture.

 

"...Could be a hundred people in that city we could've liberated today..." He growled quietly to himself, fidgeting as he sat by the fire and got some bacon going for the sake of improving his mood.

 

"We need a watch. Who's on watch?" Arland asked. "Don't want any more foolishness from some passing hermit that just HAPPENS to suddenly have access to Black Lotus for the sake of taking us out."

 

"How 'bout you take it if you're so sensible?" Sybille asked.

 

"Are you kidding? You're just getting me out of the way to free up a spot going for the bacon. I'll do it later."

 

"I'll take it." Marie said. She did a remarkably good job of staying hidden and discreet as she circled the camp, making it look like there wasn't anybody on guard. Her thoughts were occupied and her expression was troubled. She forced herself to focus, but worry and cold uncertainty knawed at her stomach nevertheless. She was shaken up from seeing two of her (apparently naively) beliefs broken in one day; one of them was the belief that law and order served the greater good, the other the suspicion ingrained into her from a young age that barbarians like the Thri'Kreen existed only to scavenge, though her common sense told her that there had to be exceptions to that rule somewhere. She saw it today, in the form of the forlorn and the broken as they were marched by. It troubled her, but as she thought about it she figured that with experience came enlightenment on such matters.

 

While this happened, her sister walked up to Connall and Xallistine. She handed them both a restorative potion she'd made back at the inn after she'd created the general-purpose antidotes for the group, but it was Connall she focused her attention on, though as she quickly revealed it was entirely for practical reasons.

 

"I'm not so sure you should be participating in the battle tomorrow." She told him bluntly. "Or you for that matter, Xallistine. But Connall, you rely on physical force a lot more than Xallistine does, and you've been slouching in that saddle all day, can't even hold your head up. Amendale and Rhaine and I might be able to make you two well enough to prevent us needing to worry about you two as much in the thick of the fighting, but it's going to be much riskier than it already is to participate with neither of you at full strength. I could cast my most powerful beneficial spells to aid you and your strength would still be flagging, I think."

 

"The ones she's talking about she can cast more potently than even I can." Amendale added, watching from the sidelines.

Edited June 21, 2014 by Flipout6

[mythicdawnmaster]

Two days, while mere grains of time to the realms as a whole, were detrimental in allowing Xallistine to regather his strength, and recuperate from the ill effects of the deadly Black Lotus poison. To say he was in possession of his usual prowess would be a grave mistake indeed; the Ulitharid was significantly weakened both mentally and physically- the latter taking far greater a toll (he was forced to use his walking cane as a permanent implement, as his limbs were stiff and brittle). Despite his misfortunes and handicap of movement, Xallistine at least had his life, and for that he owed his companions an irreparable debt; it was not the first time so, but never before had he been racked with a poison quite so malicious.

 

Breaking from inconsequential musings and prayers for the coming of an Elan genocide, Xallistine looked up to regard Annette as she voiced her concern for both he and his Gemini-in-poison, Conall. He accepted the potent rejuvenating concoction with little doubt for the young woman's skill, sliding the flask beneath his tentacled façade to pour down his maw in one swift motion. Nodding his thanks for both the potion and the concern, he retorted politely "You needn't worry yourself with my condition; I have potent spells of my own with which to shield my form, and we face foes with which I have more than fleeting similarity- I shall fight the Psions with Psionics, and woe betide the being who harmed us so. I have a few spells prepared for our would-be assassin, but of course, your assistance in keeping our strength would no doubt be appreciated." He nodded his head in place of a smile.

 

-----------------------

 

Ravenna stepped back from the earth gingerly as it shifted before her temperamentally, narrowly avoiding the spray of soil and debris that accompanied the transitory form of the necromancer, his pale features contrasting sharply with the midnight black of his robes, the sickly patches of his flesh almost glowing in the flickering moonlight like tainted, acid-worn bone. Despite this figures unassuming and frankly nigh-leprous appearance- or what was visible of it through the cloud of settling dirt- Ravenna could feel the very potency of this tainted creature lick at her aura, the venom of foul-gods permeating her senses; not only a necromancer, it seemed, but a malevolent zealot to boot. Formidable.

 

With a ghostly hint of a smile, like the last darting sliver of sunlight cast upon the ocean waves before nightfall, Ravenna spoke crisply and clearly, her ever-rapturous tone undercut with suggestions of authority, promises of rank "I am Ravenna, consort of Asmodeus the Lord of the Ninth, Queen of the Nine Hells; it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Lord Silithus Victus- I have heard a great many things about you. A fellow practitioner of the dread arts, and one who too strove to slay a god. Magnificent." She paused, cocking her head "I couldn't allow you to weather the ages trapped within a bubble of holy stasis; I have use of one such as yourself, and you, no doubt, of me."

[Flipout6]

Silithus listened to the Devil-queen's rather... grandiose introduction of herself. He could sense, just based on being around it his whole life, the beautiful malevolence in her, the delicious blackness that was her soul. And it was endearing. He found himself drawn to her. In fact they seemed to be almost kindred spirits...both attempted assassins of gods, masters of magics black and horrible.

 

"And I am Silithus Victus, as you seem to have learned already. Pleasure to meet you, Lady Ravenna." He smiled at her and bowed graciously, what he himself felt was a warm smile but was in reality almost reptilian in nature. At the same time, just as Ravenna did, he could feel power radiating from the....being before him. One thing he guessed was that "human" would be a rather inaccurate term for her now. She was more than that, greater.

 

"Please continue, my lady. I find myself...enraptured, to say the least. I'm eager to hear what you wish to suggest."

[AurianaValoria1]

Conall took Annette's potion, swirled it around a bit in the glass, and then downed it in one gulp after Xallistine had done the same. His nose wrinkled at the bitter taste, but he already began to feel his strength returning, albeit in small increments. He handed the empty flask back to her after a few moments with an appreciative nod, "Our Ulitharid friend speaks truly...you have our gratitude, madame alchemist. But," he winked at her with a shining blue eye, "I should say that I, too, have more strength than may be obvious...as you well know, young lady."

 

Zorica shifted behind him on the saddle as she looked down at Annette, "Speaking of countering our weaknesses, you should probably see about protecting yourself a bit more. As you are, you could easily be cut down in the heat of battle before any of us could react. There's a chance you won't be safe even in the rear of the party."

 

"Any protection you speak of could hamper her spellcasting, though," Conall remarked.

 

"Better that than dead," Dagny snorted.

 

Rhaine wordlessly spurred Azrael forward again, and the great horse plodded wearily forth, entering the gates of Kormul. The settlement seemed a bit less fortified than Innarlith, with a wooden palisade instead of stone walls, and very few guardsmen manning the entrance. The population also seemed significantly less in number, even though Kormul was situated on a main trade route. The whole place was made seemingly diminutive by the towering Wyrmbones in the background, which cast a lengthy shadow over the town even as the setting sun gave the buildings a warm golden hue. Rhaine could not decide if the mountains themselves gave such an ominous feeling on their own, or because she knew they would soon face a fearsome foe amongst the ancient ruins of those jagged crags...

 

They stabled the horses near the gates, across from a shabby inn that would be their shelter for the night. It was an old, dilapidated establishment of half mud-brick, half-timber. Though the floors creaked horribly as they walked across the common room, they were surprisingly spotless. The proud owner happily offered every room in the house (which was entirely empty) to the adventurers once Rhaine presented him with a bag of gold sufficient for their room and board. He even offered to show them to their rooms personally, grinning and proclaiming how magnificent his old inn was for its age as he purposefully flipped back the blankets of the beds to reveal blindingly-white sheets pulled tightly across overstuffed mattresses.

 

Dagny held no interest in what the beds looked like, and instead immersed herself in several flagons of ale. Her short legs still stuck out awkwardly from the way she had been positioned atop Bob, and she mentally promised herself she would never ride on such a ridiculously large beast again. Sitting beside the dwarf at the bar, Zorica ordered two plates full of the local tavern fare - some of which she didn't even recognize - and devoured it all in a space of fifteen minutes, in addition to three glasses of wine. Conversely, Conall only managed to eat half of his own supper before heading off to bed early, the lengthy ride having sapped his ability to recover as quickly as he would have liked.

 

Rhaine, too, found that she was unable to eat well. The anticipation of battle churned her insides even as her head was cool and collected. The Doomguide sat in a dark corner of the common room alone, sipping a glass of mulled wine and staring straight ahead as her mind whirred with thoughts of battle tactics and the preparations she would need to make.