Tales of Faerun

[Deleted6317247User]

When the group arrived in Kormul, Shalena made her way straight to the inn seeing how unexciting and small the settlement was. The inside of the inn looked just as bad as the exterior to the piratess but at least it was clean. She ordered some food and a drink before joining Rhaine at her table.

 

"So what's with the brooding in the dark corners?" Shalena asked her expression getting a bit serious as she looked at the Doomguide. "It's going to be this bad?" She asked.

 

After she made sure that their horses were comfortable, Nawen walked around the town for a bit. Kormul was a welcome change from the busy streets of Innarlith, but the mountains looming over the settlement dampened her mood as she remembered what awaits them somewhere in those mountains. Not wanting to look at the mountains she went to the inn, ordered some food for herself as well for those who haven't ate yet.

 

As she began eating she noticed that some of her friends had lost their appetite which caused her to lose hers and so she fed the leftovers of her dinner to Rhegar.

[mythicdawnmaster]

Ravenna gave a pleasant smile as her tongue closed the distance from canine to canine, drifting over the porcelain tombstones raised from her gums languidly. One finger travelled to her mouth to place a menacing claw upon her lips, head tilting to the side with the accompanying swash of her cumbersome earrings, swaying as hypnotists pendulums to accompany the mesmerising radiance of her lambent eyes "Ah I am so glad you are enticed my pallid friend; I would be quite insulted if my charms were to fail me." She tittered slightly before continuing, lifting her right arm and bringing with it the wing-like chainmail of her golden over-robe, the gentle jingle of the the momentum-carried chain filling the void between Ravenna's words "My carriage awaits." She ushered in the resurfaced blight that was Silithus Victus, and placed her self opposite him within the roomy confides of the hellish carriage, her golden form framed by a carved throne of ebon black.

 

"What I would like to suggest..." Ravenna began, pausing the click her fingers, signalling the spectral driver to begin their descent down the mountainside "Is an alliance. A union. A joining of powers to quench both our shared lust for revenge and to satiate those whom we genuflect before; your gods no doubt would relish in the prospect of slaying the newly-chosen of Kelemvor and her cadre of celestial companions? The Lord of The Dead prostrates himself before 'good' and 'righteousness' in these troubled times, and I found my schemes of ascension thwarted by those who protected the immortal lifeblood of a god. While you were imprisoned, I was banished to the very hells themselves. Delicious irony that it was to be my rebirth, but the bitterness does not fade even with the taste of godly nectar upon your lips." She smiled, settling into her seat as they hit a rock, the carriage bouncing ever so "I wish to destroy them; a task that would- no doubt- please both you and your unholy duet above?"

Edited June 22, 2014 by mythicdawnmaster

[Flipout6]

Annette watched both of them drink up and nodded, stating factually, "You both need to drink another tonight and another in the morning, possibly tomorrow evening if the atrophy persists. Do that and you should both be fully restored for the day after."

 

At Zorica's suggestion that she wear armor, Annette pondered it for several seconds before she had anything to say. "I'm not much of a caster, most of my spells are ones that bolster our collective abilities before the battle begins. I know several defensive spells, though, and those have saved my life in the past."

 

"There's always the chance we run into something that can get past them." Amendale told her. "Even I wear armor, and casting's all I do. I don't think this sword's seen any use in the past two months. Even just leather padding could prevent you breaking a bone or a rib, and a helmet will protect your skull. Even if it's a one-time occasion I'd suggest you find something to wear for battle once we reach town. I can even lend you my own, it's light and strong, but practicality declares that a last resort." Annette just nodded and that was that.

 

Sybille felt the seed of timid anticipation planted in her gut as she beheld the mood of her fellows, but forced herself not to let it affect her. Judging by the reactions of some of the others she ought to be much more nervous, but she had little knowledge of psionics outside of snippets here and there and lacked any experience until recently. But, as she had learned the hard way, it was best not to underestimate an opponent, so she repressed any thoughts of assurance that her psyche naturally tried to feed her. With strategic planning in mind, as well as woeful knowledge of her own ignorance, Sybille took a seat on the opposite side of Rhaine as Shalena was in mid-sentence, waited for her to finish, and then began her own line of questioning.

 

"Sorry to interrupt, my lady, but I need your advice. I'm not terrible experienced in the adventuring field compared to most of those here, and as a result I've never faced a psionic opponent before that I know of. So I need the rundown: what can they do? How do I counter it? What will their strategies be? I don't intend to lose anybody tomorrow, but I need to be able to haul my own weight. And I can't do that without knowledge. If all else fails could you direct me to somebody with more experience against them?"

 

Annette, meanwhile, had two more potions ready for Connall and Xallistine. She'd made sure to reinforce her insistence that they drink up just after they drank the previous, but Connall in his delirium seemed to have stumbled upwards already, desperate for rest. Exasperated, she grabbed them both. She approached Xallistine and gave him one.

 

"Drink that, or even feasting on my brain won't help you." She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye before heading upstairs and knocking on Connall's door. Marie, who was sitting within earshot, was caught so off-guard by the sudden humor that she shot juice out of her nose laughing, which she managed to catch on her sleeve to avoid the innkeeper's wrath. Arland smirked and raised an eyebrow, then guffawed at the spectacle, commenting that that wasn't something he saw a lot.

 

"I'll give you ten seconds to get yourself decent if you're not." Annette announced upstairs, just loud enough that she was sure his werewolf's hearing would understand. Ultimately she gave him fifteen before she cracked open the door and poked her head in. Connall looked like he's just crawled into bed and was beneath the covers. She left the door open a crack and strode up to his bedside with the potion, placing it firmly on the night table before taking a step back. "Drink up. You need one now and one in the morning or that strength you've got isn't going to count for as much as it needs to to get you through tomorrow alive, if things are as bad as they seem."

 

Downstairs, Weyland murmured, "Schtlarn, she reminds me of my mother."

 

"You need the kick in the rear." Was all Amendale had to say.

 

After a few minutes, Weyland tapped Dri on the shoulder and asked her quietly, "Can we talk later? Somewhere away from the others?"

 

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Silithus' face split into an even wider grin, revealing more unnaturally straight, white teeth, standing out in defiant contrast to the rest of his appearance. "Oh, I don't see any situation where your charms would falter or fail." He complimented Ravenna, his tone complimentary and his voice surprisingly charming.

 

Once the carriage was underway, Silithus was a rapt audience as Ravenna continued to speak. His eyebrows furrowed when Kelemvor was mentioned, but paid attention and did not interrupt. When she finished he didn't hesitate before he responded in kind, his eyes glinting dangerously. He could feel dementia's dark influence lurking with palpable ominousness in the deepest depths of his twisted mind. "An alliance it is, my lady. I can begin by immediately....all I need is information. It's been many years, I do not know who this "Kelemvor" is that you speak of, nor do I know who these enemies of yours are, or- and this is essential- their backgrounds." The glint in his eye became more prominent as his tone became darker, more dangerous. "Foes great enough to defeat you would be foolhardy to engage directly. But if their wills are broken..."

Edited June 23, 2014 by Flipout6

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine had leaned back in her chair until the shadows covered all but her right arm and the bottom half of her face. Her gauntlets lay beside the hand that held her wine goblet, and her nails clicked absentmindedly against the glass. The Doomguide's eyes glittered in the dark like hidden jewels as she listened first to Shalena and then to Sybille, and she took a few moments to gather her thoughts before she replied to them both.

 

"If you have Xallistine's charms that he handed around, you should be protected against the worst that our foes may do. However, just in case such things are not known to you, I will elaborate: elans are some of the rarest and most powerful psions in existence. The older they get, the more powerful they are. They specialize in using the formidable powers of their minds, and they are adept at turning your own mind against you. They can control you like a puppet...convince you that things that are not real are, and vice versa. Failing that, they can also outright destroy you with their magics. Think of them as more human-like illithid. Xallistine's capabilities are quite similar, and he should be able to counter much of what they might throw at us.

 

"However, these elans won't be the only foes we face, I am sure. There is another phylactery nearby; be prepared to face Valthanarax himself. With the aid of his minions, it won't take long for him to regenerate, and even though his phylacteries are slowly but surely being whittled down, even one will leave him capable of returning time and again. I do believe he prefers the bodies of red dragons, so expect fire in vast quantities. You two have not fought him before, so I should also warn you that he is incredibly cunning and resourceful, even for a dracolich. He will no doubt have a legion of undead at his command.

 

"Ultimately, I think it would be safe to say that you should prepare for anything, really. More dragons are always a possibility, and Valthanarax may take a corpse other than a red. If we are faced with some of his wizard servants, your best bet will be to rush them before they can cast any spells. In fact, this strategy should work against the elans as well, though the elans will undoubtedly be better at mentally blocking physical attacks. For Valthanarax himself - or any other dragon for that matter - you'll need strength, guile, and more than a little bit of luck. Focus your energy...don't waste it."

 

She paused before she continued, "I will do my best to keep you all in the fray for as long as possible. I have many healing and protective spells at my disposal, and I will use all that I can to ensure your survival. The longer you can stay on your feet and keep the enemy away from me, the better chance we all have of making it out alive. Annette and Amendale will likely use similar strategies, but if we are forced to engage in melee, our effectiveness in these tactics will be drastically reduced."

 

==================================

 

Upstairs, Conall smirked as Annette put yet another one of her potions on his nightstand. He took it and raised it as if to toast her before replying, "Of course, my dear alchemist, I am your most humble servant." With that, he downed the potion and winced again at the taste before settling back down in the bed and placing the empty bottle on the nightstand once more. "There," he grinned mischievously, "happy now?"

[josh900]

Lucas shuddered a bit as Rhaine described their foes. "Sounds like my first battle with you all will be my last." He said fearfully.

 

"It won't be easy." Azuris said grimly. "But we've gotten lucky before, hopefully we will again."

 

"You don't sound too sure we can win this." Said Lucas.

 

"I'm not."

 

"What do you think Tannin?" Lucas asked, turning to see the half-drow fiddling with what looked to be a suit of dark green leather armor.

 

"I've killed tougher." Tannin said nonchalantly.

 

"You always say that." Azuris snapped. "Tell us then, oh powerful hero, what sort of monsters you've brought down that are more powerful?"

 

Tannin paused a moment before going back to work. "A lot."

 

"Such as?"

 

"Powerful demons and devils for one."

 

"Sure you have." Azuris said sarcastically. "You're good in a fight, I'll give you that. But I doubt you're half as good as you say you are."

 

"I'm not." Tannin said, much to Azuris's surprise.

 

"What? Caught in a lie and feel like fessing up now?"

 

"Indeed, I'm not as good as my stories may have led you to believe." Tannin said honestly.

 

"Damn right you're not." Azuris growled.

 

Tannin set his tools down and looked to Azuris with a pointed look. "I'm better."

 

Azuris could only scoff and shake his head. "You're unbelievable you know that? Guess we'll find out soon enough if your ego's enough to keep you alive then." He said before walking out of the Inn doors.

 

"Well that was strangely confrontational of him." Tannin remarked in a curious tone before going back to work on the armor.

[mythicdawnmaster]

Ravenna smiled slowly, her mouth upturning like the wings of a butterfly unfurling to display their full- and in this case crimson- glory, lustrous and luminescent from a combination of rich gloss and the subtle glow of the lamps mounted upon the exterior of the carriage, casting their radiance through the thick glass windows to illuminate the golden splendour of the Archdevil further. Such dim light enhanced also the contours of her finely-chiselled face, drawing sharp contrast with deep shadows in the places her cheeks hollowed, cast by the protrusive ridges of her proud and haughty cheekbones; there was an almost skeletal quality to Ravenna's noble features, a hint that her flesh was pulled taut over bone, depraved of fat. Not unlike the winnowed figure before her, in such a respect- perhaps it was a trait of those who practised necromancy? To resemble the desecrated cadavers that were their tools? Ravenna arrested her attention from her line of thought, and re-focused upon the deadly man before her. She raised her angular brows at their corners as he relayed the lapse in his knowledge. Of course! He had not been present upon Kelemvor's ascension... oh how she had gaps to fill in for her latest compatriot.

 

Crossing her slender right leg, and waiting as the jingle of chainmail ceased in earnest before beginning to speak, she clasped her hands upon her lap demurely and drummed the digits of one hand into the other, and vice-as-versa, eyes never leaving Silithus as she pondered her response "I had forgotten almost how long it was you were imprisoned for... I do apologize. Kelemvor Lyonsbane is the current Judge of the Damned; Lord of The Dead; Master of the Crystal Spire. You may recognize his predecessors as Jergal and Myrkul... he is but the latest to hold the sphere of death. A grave enemy of those that follow our shared... profession, my dear Silithus, pardon the pun." An un-amused sliver of a phantom smile passed her lips for a moment as she explained, continuing as she shifted her position slightly "My foes are led by the Doomguide, Rhaine Alcinea, who quests now to destroy an ally of mine, the Dracolich Valthanarax. They are a a proficient group that attracts more and more to their fold like flies to stagnating ichor; I shall entertain your wish for their dossiers once we arrive at my fortress- there is far too much to explain here." She smiled a little once more, gazing out of the window as she neared her castle; it was a short trip, as Silithus had been imprisoned in such close proximity to her fort. They had to pass through the Orcish camp, of course, but they were hindered little by Ravenna's growing battalion of footsoldiers.

Edited June 25, 2014 by mythicdawnmaster

[Deleted6317247User]

Nawen stared at the cup of warm tea she held in her hands as she listened to what Rhaine said. She remembered the battle with Valthanarax all too well. They lost Maydiira and Illius in that fight, and soon they're going to face twice as many foes. She was scared of losing more people she cared about but the only comforting thought was that she could still help the wounded without magic.

She had nothing to ask or add to the conversation so she kept looking at her tea, while Rhegar continued eating the leftovers of her dinner under the table.

"Plenty of risk, possible death and lots of fighting," Shalena mused, "sounds like fun." The piratess said as she got up from her seat and looked over everyone who were in the common room. "You've already killed big and scary dragon once. I'm sure we'll do fine." She said.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need my beauty rest." Shalena said as she went upstairs.

Edited June 30, 2014 by Guest

[GrueMaster]

Dri had a slight dry feeling in the back of her throat, a nervous reaction she'd always get when she was about to go through with a dangerous job. Her nervousness had been building slowly but surely as the party approached closer and closer to their goal, and stopping at Kormul right before what would surely be a deadly fight was wearing on her mind. To help ease this she fell back to the one thing that always relaxed her: calligraphy.

 

She set up shop at a random table and pulled out her pen and ink set, along with a book with a fancy ideograph emblazoned on the front cover; her own collection of scripts she had written since her foster-father had given her the book. Flipping to a blank page, Dri began writing a random poem. A Grey knight, armed with lightning/ Defended by shield, protected in armor/ My savior, hope-inspiring...

 

Lines similar to this went on, until finally she realized she was writing about Weyland. Oh no... Feeling her cheeks beginning to warm, Dri started putting the book away when Weyland tapped her on the shoulder and scaring her, having been so deep in thought on her calligraphy she hadn't noticed him. "Weyland!" she started, closing the book hastily and putting it away. Tymora, please let him not have seen it! She was surprised when the warrior asked for a word in private. "Um, sure. Do you want to talk now?"

 

Tak'we sat in the corner, strumming the strings on the gythka from We'ka, the slave Rhaine helped him free. The female thri-kreen had given it to him as a parting gift, as thanks for helping her. Though Winged Pointy-ear was more help than I was... he thought with annoyance and shame; it was bad enough that he had gotten himself caught and caused trouble for his clutch, but then it was insulting when Rhaine was forced to pay for the trouble as well.

 

Well, at least things went well, he thought, chittering almost bashfully as he remembered the private moments he spent with We'ka; they had left the group several times to go hunting together, and Tak'we had enjoyed being around her as much as he had being with his clutch, almost more so. Spirits, I miss her, he lamented silently, as she had to go back to her pack that had been harried by the Defiled Ones, kin of theirs that had desecrated their own bodies for the curse of the Bones-That-Walk and prayed to the very Bone Lizard his clutch was hunting. Mother Moon, may we walk upon moonlit sands together once again, and may We'ka's pack stay safe.

 

Remembering how his gythka had worked so poorly against Valthanarax and his Bone minions at that thought, Tak'we unstrung his gythka and walked over to Rhaine. "Winged Pointy-ear?" he asked reverently, thinking Rhaine would be best to beseech aid from the spirits. "Would you bless thisss one'ss sstaff, so that thiss one may better hunt the Boness-That-Walk?"

 

 

Tenebris, like so many others in the room, was doing his own preparations for the battle ahead. Sitting in a darkened corner of the tavern, he prayed silently, rolling his knucklebones both out of nervous habit and for possible predilections of the future. For some reason, his foretelling from earlier had become more obscured, as though something was interfering...

 

One thing is certain, though, he thought grimly. At least one of us shall die... With this knowledge in mind, the Jergali pulled out a blackened book that had a lock built within it and protected by spells, and with a sigh unlocked it and released the wards on it. This will not be a glorious task, he grimaced, and so began going over old spells that many in his order would balk at the mere mention of the existence of such dark power... Thus is the path I am consigned to...

 

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

 

Saris was angrily pacing back and forth, silently raging for many days now. At Zuir's word that the assassination had failed, she had spent nearly an entire day subjecting Kalin to numerous tortures, ranging from poisoned hooks that induced spasms in the victim, further causing pain, to simple brute-force application of lightning, to the point where even her not-so-insignificant reservoir of power had been drained.

 

And now the wh*%# of Kelemvor has become ever closer... she murmured in aggravation; somehow, despite all her wards, the Doomguide seemed to home in onto the location of her manse, as unerringly as a bloodhound on a scent. How is she doing it?

 

Saris pondered this as she finished the last of the preparation spells and powers needed for the ritual on Valthanarax. Confident she would be done well before Rhaine reached her, yet not wanting to take any risks, the elan visited Kalin once more, a vile plan bringing a smile to the sadist's lips.

 

Kalin looked up wearily as the door to his dungeon opened and Saris walked in, a disturbing look on her face. "Come to finally kill me, wench?" he insulted, giving a last ditch effort at angering the Culler in an attempt to be defiant. "Oh, no, sweet grandson... I have a much better idea..."

 

Before he could say anything, Saris' eyes flashed and then there was an agonizing flame suddenly burning into his mind. Don't fight it, dear, just let it wash over you. It will be over before you know it. A beguiling voice whispered madly in his thoughts. No! he tried to cry out in defiance, but countless days of torture and nightmares had left his mind in tatters, and so Kalin struggled vainly as his shattered mental defenses were subsumed and swept away by Saris' power. You are mine now...

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine was quiet for a few moments after observing the heated exchange between Tannin and Azuris, and she glanced between both the half-drow and Nawen. Something about Tannin's brazen declaration reminded her of events not long past...of something that no one else in the group knew about. Something that she felt Nawen should be made aware of...

 

She had just resolved to speak with the ranger sometime in the future when Tak'we approached her, asking for her to bless his staff. The Doomguide slowly stood, setting her empty wine glass on the table before her, and she smiled at the thri-kreen, "Of course, Tak'we. Just a moment."

 

She then took her flask of holy water from her hip and poured a bit in her palm. After replacing the flask, she dipped two fingers of her other hand in the puddle before tracing a loose imitation of Kelemvor's symbol on both blades of the gythka, all the while speaking the words to a prayer in low tones. The emblems glowed momentarily in answer to her blessing before dissolving away.

 

"There. Be aware that this will last only for a few hits before losing power. However, by then I will have cast much more powerful spells to augment your weapons. All of our weapons."

 

With that task completed, she turned to the others, "I do believe Shalena has the right idea...we should try to get as much rest as we can. Good night, everyone."

 

Rhaine made her way towards the stairs and began to climb them, looking back about halfway up and observing the rest of the party silently before continuing on to her room, her mind still active with thoughts of the current situation and plans for the immediate future. It was not long before Zorica and Dagny followed in the priestess's footsteps, both of them with expressions that seemed to be a mixture of worry and determination.

[Flipout6]

"He sounds like a disgrace to his own position." Silithus commented, upon being given the basic rundown on who Kelemvor was, whose metaphorical boots he filled and how he filled them.

 

When they stopped, Silithus got out of the carriage with Ravenna and looked around at her troops. He didn't pay much attention to them for now but they seemed well-supplied enough. He nodded, grinning, when he beheld their numbers, though. Wordless, he followed Ravenna into her domain.

 

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

 

Weyland had almost begun to make out the words on the paper in front of Dri- a task not aided by his late introduction to literacy in his mid-teens- before she snapped it shut in a hurry, evidently startled. Amused, he grinned before she offered to talk immediately. Suddenly the grin made an almost complete disappearance and he beckoned her follow him. He mumbled something about upstairs being the only quiet place and led her upstairs, shooting Arland a faked death glare when the two of them became the newest target for his lewd jeers. Then Sybille cuffed him, knocking him face-first into the table, and that was that.

 

Once he found an unoccupied room, Weyland shut the door behind them and nervously ran his hand over the back of his neck. "So, uh...." He began uncertainly. "...Well, what with the battle tomorrow, which is supposed to be somewhat deadlier than our usual suicide missions-" He smiled. "-I figured that you ought to know, uh..." He stammered, blushing. "-Well, I figured you should know how I feel about you." His face turned a deeper shade of scarlet. "I care about you, Dri. A lot, actually. You're sweet and brave and loyal...and a lot smarter than I am." He laughed. "You even risked your own life just to help me take down a demon from my past that had nothing to do with you. I don't think I got to properly thank you for that, actually." He paused, finding it nearly impossible to maintain eye contact. "You're one of the best people in my life, despite being one of the newer additions to it. And you ought to know that, just in case I manage to have my brain melted out of my ears tomorrow or- Helm forbid - you come to harm." He laughed again, and then added, "Just like every old adventuring tale, on the eve of battle. But I meant every word of it."

Edited June 27, 2014 by Flipout6