Jul 9, 2022 12:20 pm
OOC:
The ferry is trapped at the Easthaven docks in Lac Dinneshere's ice.7. Good Mead
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Jul 9, 2022 12:27 pm
OOC:
In Targos, sailors have taken to carrying small boats over the ice, but Anders and Okto would need to look at the problem and organise a solution with the ferry.
Jul 9, 2022 12:34 pm
OOC:
Sorry, this can fit wherever it makes sense. I don’t want to interrupt what other people are doing!Bells, I have something for you…
Zin pulls a carefully wrapped package from inside his cloak and hands it to Bells. Inside the simple cloth wrapping is vibrant pink fairy glove.
It is a fairy glove. They grow in the mountains near my home… It reminded me of you, do you see? The flowers are all shaped like tiny bells. Each bell is so colorful and beautiful on the outside. Inside… Zin reaches across and gently lifts a petal of the flower … inside, is a different kind of beauty with its spots and imperfections. But the best part of this flower, the part that reminds me the most of you… is in its nature. Zin carefully lifts the flower spike and holds it upright You see the flowers of the fairy glove are not like most flowers. Most flowers open upward, asking… Zin gestures with his free hand showing an open flower facing the sky …begging for birds or bees to come and drink from them. The fairy glove points it’s flowers down… It means that any bird or bee that seeks its nectar is forced to change its perspective, to come from below. I imagine that is a shock to birds that are always looking down on the world to suddenly look up and see the half of the world they were missing. That is why the fairy glove reminds me of you. Through your kindness and the joy, care and concern you try to bring to all those you meet, you force those around you to a new perspective… one that has showed ME a world I was missing… one that is so much more vibrant and colorful than I ever could have imagined. And I wanted to thank you… Bells the Bard… at those words Zinvaris stands and gives a dramatic bow. When he comes out of the bow a peaceful smile rests on his scarred face. He gently reaches over and places the fairy glove back on the wrapping. Do you like it? Oh! I forgot I’m supposed to tell you how I feel to prevent a tide or some such thing… I don’t know. Anyway, I’m a little sore, I think from our fight with the verbeeg. My morning exercises haven’t stretched it out yet. Also, coming away from the caves I feel a deepening connection to Mielikki, but at the same time the closer I feel to her the closer I feel to you all, isn’t that weird? Also, I feel... free. Knowing that you are safe from the Zhentarim... from my past. I feel free. Free from my hate, free from my anger, free from my fear... Tomorrow I could jump into the mouth of a dragon and I would still pass to the next life content in knowing that I reached this moment of peace and freedom in my life.
Jul 9, 2022 1:49 pm
For a woman who crafted words together for a living, it was a strange phenomenon when those words seem to fail her. Zin....oh, why did it seem he could only be intimate from a distance? How was a girl to know how you feel about her if one moment you say the most amazing things and then the next you're storming off?
Ohhh, and he had touched on her parents. Bells wrapped her arms around her midriff squeezing tight as her lip trembled. Of course, her father would be proud of her. Bells had been her father's delight, My little jingle provides the music the whole world can dance to, is it not so? And she had with the bells he had given her every year on her birthday.
In the cave when Okto had asked for a bell as a good luck charm, it had been all Bells could do to not to swing her legs away as if to hide her treasure. But her friend had not been trying to steal the last tangible evidence she had of her father's favor. No, Okto, the gentle giant had only wanted to carry with him a remembrance of her as a piece of his new luck. A finger had started flicking each of the bells individually until the bard found one that rang as pure as the friendship between them before she removed it from the golden chain to deposit in the big green hand. Closing his fist over the offering more precious than jewels, Bells gives Okto a kiss on the cheek, Having true friends is even better than luck.
But that wasn't her mother. Nefatari stood straighter as she smoothed her curls. A critical eye would notice a smudge in her eyeliner and a crease in her garmets. What exactly was Nefertari trying to prove? Always needing to be the center of attention. Your father should not encourage you so. Who will ever want a wife who doesn't know her place would be the ever resounding question asked by her mother.
But Bells had found her place not beside one man but four. Answering the Sending stone, I think more than living in the shadow of my parent's approval, I have to live by my own set of standards. My own expectations Twenty-five word were definitely not enough to express all the bard's thoughts and feelings.
Ohhh, and he had touched on her parents. Bells wrapped her arms around her midriff squeezing tight as her lip trembled. Of course, her father would be proud of her. Bells had been her father's delight, My little jingle provides the music the whole world can dance to, is it not so? And she had with the bells he had given her every year on her birthday.
In the cave when Okto had asked for a bell as a good luck charm, it had been all Bells could do to not to swing her legs away as if to hide her treasure. But her friend had not been trying to steal the last tangible evidence she had of her father's favor. No, Okto, the gentle giant had only wanted to carry with him a remembrance of her as a piece of his new luck. A finger had started flicking each of the bells individually until the bard found one that rang as pure as the friendship between them before she removed it from the golden chain to deposit in the big green hand. Closing his fist over the offering more precious than jewels, Bells gives Okto a kiss on the cheek, Having true friends is even better than luck.
But that wasn't her mother. Nefatari stood straighter as she smoothed her curls. A critical eye would notice a smudge in her eyeliner and a crease in her garmets. What exactly was Nefertari trying to prove? Always needing to be the center of attention. Your father should not encourage you so. Who will ever want a wife who doesn't know her place would be the ever resounding question asked by her mother.
But Bells had found her place not beside one man but four. Answering the Sending stone, I think more than living in the shadow of my parent's approval, I have to live by my own set of standards. My own expectations Twenty-five word were definitely not enough to express all the bard's thoughts and feelings.
Jul 9, 2022 2:51 pm
In contradiction to his normal state, Okto sits around the campfire and listens to Anders as he speaks, only adding to the conversation when it felt right, rather than all the time. Okto falls asleep that night thinking about the story Anders told him, about its meaning. A tale of being lost, having someone enter you life and open the skies to let the light in, and only then realizing the beauty that's been around you the whole time. While Okto has always been one to notice both the dark clouds obstructing his vision and the beauty behind them, it's an impactful insight into his friend.
Before continuing the trek, Okto simply adds, "Anders, you may not like it, but we'll follow you wherever you need to go and do. Just say the word." And they continue on to Targos.
While in Targos, Okto makes his rounds of the town and makes his presence known to his old friends. He checks up on Ma and Graendal, as well as Giandro Holfast, Eva's father. Armed with the new knowledge that Targos' Speaker and Captain are Zhentarim agents, Okto spends a night out at the taverns and attempts to use his connections to the people of Targos just to see if there are any rumors/any big news about them recently.
Persuasion check for scrounging up any news about the Speaker and Captain?
... lol, i tried
Before continuing the trek, Okto simply adds, "Anders, you may not like it, but we'll follow you wherever you need to go and do. Just say the word." And they continue on to Targos.
While in Targos, Okto makes his rounds of the town and makes his presence known to his old friends. He checks up on Ma and Graendal, as well as Giandro Holfast, Eva's father. Armed with the new knowledge that Targos' Speaker and Captain are Zhentarim agents, Okto spends a night out at the taverns and attempts to use his connections to the people of Targos just to see if there are any rumors/any big news about them recently.
OOC:
History check for if Okto has heard of the Dark Duchess ship?Persuasion check for scrounging up any news about the Speaker and Captain?
... lol, i tried
Last edited July 9, 2022 2:51 pm
Rolls
Okto, the Frozen Tusk: History (advantage from sailor background?) - (2d20H1)
(910) = 10
Okto, the Frozen Tusk: Persuasion (advantage from either Enhance Abilty or just using old friends?) - (2d20H1-1)
(63) - 1 = 5
Jul 10, 2022 4:32 am
Rayne continues his training and sparring sessions, and is forming a small group of devoted trainees among the Meaders and Staves. He runs his small group through drills and practice exercises in the mornings before the daily chores and work of the folk begin. The people are tough, and have battled in more ways than one to survive here, but they lack basic fighting and self-defense training. Rayne hopes that in addition to honing his own skills, that he can help make life easier for these folks if they at least have a chance if they get cornered by a bandit (or signing kobold) looking to make a quick profit.
In his downtime, he asks around, looking for clues about the grief. Grief Mead handles things for now, but he doesn't fancy having to rely on it if he can help it, especially if he wants to depart the dale at some point. He questions a few of the locals, looking for anyone who might know more or have some hints about a potential cure, even if its not something accessible in Good Mead.
In his downtime, he asks around, looking for clues about the grief. Grief Mead handles things for now, but he doesn't fancy having to rely on it if he can help it, especially if he wants to depart the dale at some point. He questions a few of the locals, looking for anyone who might know more or have some hints about a potential cure, even if its not something accessible in Good Mead.
Rolls
Rayne (new): Investigation (hints to a cure) - (1d20+3)
(16) + 3 = 19
Rayne's Huskies
Jul 10, 2022 7:16 am
OOC:
Interesting... Rayne's also a battlemaster, a scholar of war, so the training would be especially effective....but in the second week, Rayne uses that. He takes them on a field trip to watch wolves hunt. He teaches that the glory will come, but they need to close like a net with spears and shields aligned. The militia might not understand southern military formations, but they understand wolves only too well.
They begin to call themselves Rayne's Huskies. 'Wolves' would have been better than 'Huskies', but Good Mead experienced a tragedy a few years ago which they call "The Night of the Wolves", so the word is still taboo.
The townspeople notice this change too, and the strength of their militia gives the people confidence and does much to quell their fears.
Rayne's research into his condition is not promising. Only powerful divine magic, the blessings of a god, can cure the affliction. There's a story that "The Waters of Silvanus wash away sorrow", but nobody is sure precisely what that means.
OOC:
I'm waiting to see what Bells made of Zin's advice regarding her choice of administrator.Rayne's Huskies
Rolls
Secret Roll
Secret Roll
Jul 10, 2022 6:06 pm
A light entered dark eyes as Bells took note of the elf that moved with such grace that the wind would be jealous. Zin....he had returned so much earlier than expected. The bard tried to keep her concentration on the very serious conversation with Master Stonebuilt but the strand became lost as Bells drank in the presence of the one casually leaning against the stucco wall. Well? The dwarf frowned.
Let me have more time to consider the ramifications, covered the bard. Only one more conversation before the last of the day's constituents left with Zin sliding into the seat across from her offering a refreshing mug of mead. Talking all day was indeed thirsty work so Bells deeply drank thankful for the restorative liquid.
Bells waved away the apology Zin offered, Don't you know that hearing from you makes my day? Well...unless it is followed by admissions of doing something stupid. Bells made a face, You know you are no longer alone? People care about you now so you can't go needlessly risking yourself. You matter. Your needed. I'm glad the Speaker Shane spoke some sense into you!
Henna decorated hands suddenly reached out to grasp the elf's elegantly long fingers in an celebratory squeeze. Oh, Zin! The Zhentarim are defeated? Here we were gearing up thinking we had a bloody battle before us and then to find out just like that, Bells emphasized the point with a snap as a joyous lilt colored her speech, the enemy is already defeated!
And then the man took Bells by even more surprise. Had he somehow heard her thoughts about him being more intimate when face to face and not just voices in the other's head as he laid out delicate blossoms on a cloth wrapping. The unique shape was a dead give away as to why anyone might see the flower and think of her. But as the elf spoke in poetry about deeper perspectives, Bells felt in awe that she could stir such emotions.
Let me have more time to consider the ramifications, covered the bard. Only one more conversation before the last of the day's constituents left with Zin sliding into the seat across from her offering a refreshing mug of mead. Talking all day was indeed thirsty work so Bells deeply drank thankful for the restorative liquid.
Bells waved away the apology Zin offered, Don't you know that hearing from you makes my day? Well...unless it is followed by admissions of doing something stupid. Bells made a face, You know you are no longer alone? People care about you now so you can't go needlessly risking yourself. You matter. Your needed. I'm glad the Speaker Shane spoke some sense into you!
Henna decorated hands suddenly reached out to grasp the elf's elegantly long fingers in an celebratory squeeze. Oh, Zin! The Zhentarim are defeated? Here we were gearing up thinking we had a bloody battle before us and then to find out just like that, Bells emphasized the point with a snap as a joyous lilt colored her speech, the enemy is already defeated!
And then the man took Bells by even more surprise. Had he somehow heard her thoughts about him being more intimate when face to face and not just voices in the other's head as he laid out delicate blossoms on a cloth wrapping. The unique shape was a dead give away as to why anyone might see the flower and think of her. But as the elf spoke in poetry about deeper perspectives, Bells felt in awe that she could stir such emotions.
OOC:
part II shall followJul 11, 2022 1:28 am
Sure. As a woman with pleasing features and enough curves to cause many a man to want to test if any padding had been donned for effect, Bells had seen the light of masculine appreciation smolder in many of an eye. If truth be told, the bard had been guilty of fanning those flames with an artful toss of her hair or a sway of her hips to fill a room.
And when the bard performed, Bells was practiced in leading raucous choruses that caused everyone to gain their feet unable to resist her power to have the audience join in. Tears had flowed over ballads she had hauntingly strummed as her voice sounded pure and clear. So Bells was use to looking into adoring eyes....crowds of them but the woman was undone by the way this man, Zin, looked in admiration on her.
Lust did not dominate his features. Appreciation for her skill was not his motivation. It was something so much more intimate. Zin's gaze was focused on who she was as a person, the whole of her being. Bells, suddenly, felt like covering herself as she felt so exposed but then the acceptance found in the elf's eyes before his flourishing bow made her feel truly beautiful.
Her throat thick, Bells could only nod as he asked if she liked the flower. Like? The bard picked up tickling her nose with the petals enhaling the sweet scent. This moment was going to become even more intense. The man was about to declare his feelings!
What?
His muscles were sore? THAT was the message he thought was so important that he thought was going to change the tide of anything? Well, where could he have possibly received such horrid advice? Anders' name did pop into her head as a possible source but he had not returned yet so he couldn't be the guilty party. To be honest, Bells was in such shock that she had paid not much attention to anything else after the "heartfelt" confession. So, you now are sore? You might want to ask one of the Sisters. I'm sure they have an ointment that would help. Bells had practically been stretched across the table looking up at Zin with dreamy eyes but she briskly withdrew straightening her back putting her mug in-between them.
Her voice took on a professional tone, Thank you for your advice on Olivessa. Change can always be such an uncertain time that the comfort of the familiar can ease one forward. I will make securing her as part of my administration a top priority tomorrow.
Maybe if you do go see one of the Sisters, you can talk to her about setting up a soup kitchen like in Termalaine. You see, there are basically, three groups in Good Mead. The last group are those that have wandered here due to the overall harsh conditions looking for a better place but not finding all they have hoped, have turned to less than legal methods to provide for families. When we ourselves needed a bowl, one was offered and now we are in the possible position to pass that bowl to another and with just that bit of help who knows what might come from that one act.
And when the bard performed, Bells was practiced in leading raucous choruses that caused everyone to gain their feet unable to resist her power to have the audience join in. Tears had flowed over ballads she had hauntingly strummed as her voice sounded pure and clear. So Bells was use to looking into adoring eyes....crowds of them but the woman was undone by the way this man, Zin, looked in admiration on her.
Lust did not dominate his features. Appreciation for her skill was not his motivation. It was something so much more intimate. Zin's gaze was focused on who she was as a person, the whole of her being. Bells, suddenly, felt like covering herself as she felt so exposed but then the acceptance found in the elf's eyes before his flourishing bow made her feel truly beautiful.
Her throat thick, Bells could only nod as he asked if she liked the flower. Like? The bard picked up tickling her nose with the petals enhaling the sweet scent. This moment was going to become even more intense. The man was about to declare his feelings!
What?
His muscles were sore? THAT was the message he thought was so important that he thought was going to change the tide of anything? Well, where could he have possibly received such horrid advice? Anders' name did pop into her head as a possible source but he had not returned yet so he couldn't be the guilty party. To be honest, Bells was in such shock that she had paid not much attention to anything else after the "heartfelt" confession. So, you now are sore? You might want to ask one of the Sisters. I'm sure they have an ointment that would help. Bells had practically been stretched across the table looking up at Zin with dreamy eyes but she briskly withdrew straightening her back putting her mug in-between them.
Her voice took on a professional tone, Thank you for your advice on Olivessa. Change can always be such an uncertain time that the comfort of the familiar can ease one forward. I will make securing her as part of my administration a top priority tomorrow.
Maybe if you do go see one of the Sisters, you can talk to her about setting up a soup kitchen like in Termalaine. You see, there are basically, three groups in Good Mead. The last group are those that have wandered here due to the overall harsh conditions looking for a better place but not finding all they have hoped, have turned to less than legal methods to provide for families. When we ourselves needed a bowl, one was offered and now we are in the possible position to pass that bowl to another and with just that bit of help who knows what might come from that one act.
Jul 11, 2022 3:58 am
Wearing a mask for so many years, Zin had developed his own method of expression using eyes, brow and forehead coupled with subtle flexing of facial muscles to convey emotion and intent. Without the mask, Zin’s expressions were almost caricature, resulting in even minute expressions being clearly readable. At Bells’ turn of attitude, Zin’s face contorted in confusion and worry. He replayed the speaker’s words in his mind …you must tell her how you feel… Hadn’t he done that? He felt like he failed in that somehow. At Bells’ suggestion, he nodded. I will speak to the sisters in the morning. Perhaps they may have heard of my mother... Zin grinned slightly at that, finished his drink and stood to leave. At the last moment, he paused and turned to fix Bells with a sincere expression. …it is precisely that compassion. Your ability to see those often overlooked that so attracts me to you Bells. It’s what makes me WANT to change my perspective… Good night, Bells. Zin hurried off to his room hoping he didn’t make things worse with his words. He would have to visit Speaker Shane again in the future to get her insight on this interaction… she would be able to tell him what he did wrong.
OOC:
Out of curiosity, would Zin know Silvanus? His community were followers of Mielikki, but I’m wondering if all elven gods/goddesses would be known to him?
Olivessa Untapoor
Jul 11, 2022 6:53 am
At meeting Bells, Olivessa takes a birchbark notepad from her apron and listens. She's the picture of quiet competence, common sense and efficiency.
Olivessa was born to be a person in the background. It was Olivessa who arranged Kendrick's funeral. Olivessa put the chairs out for the hustings and then put them away again at the end. It's Olivessa who meets the Sisters to ensure the town is supplied with healing salves and potions. She's responsible for keeping the general store stocked with the loggers' chains, pulleys and ropes. Olivessa is always in the background - but the structure always is.
She accepts the position to continue the town's administration with a quiet nod of affirmation and a line in her notebook.
People say that amateurs study tactics, but professionals study logistics. Bells' plan for a soup kitchen unfolds into lists of actions in the notebook. Olivessa scratches dates, costings, materials, and the other essential minutia onto the papery bark as she patiently transforms vision into gantt charts. In many ways, Olivessa is like Anders; she's quiet and private as she spends her time plotting routes - but instead of trails through the wilderness, it's through Good Mead's tangled problems.
Bells notices the change on the campaign trail. Nobody looks directly as Olivessa, for who could draw their eyes from Bells? But the familiar administrator's presence answered the question that was never asked - 'who will run Good Mead when you're away?'.
Bells' official slogan had been 'Ring in a new hope', but the reality was that people said 'Bells is just like Kendrick'. It made no sense on the face of it: physically, the huge Kendrick couldn't be more different to Bells; Kendrick's temperament was melancholy, not showy. But the people liked Kendrick; they liked that he had a good heart; but most of all they liked that when he wasn't around, his administrator would ensure that they had supplies, medicines, and someone fair to resolve disputes. In some ways, the people weren't voting for Bells. They were voting for Bells' charm and vision built on Olivessa's reliability.
The bards had been leaning heavily on Shanadar's common sense and his no-nonsense down-to-earth dwarven character. But simply seeing Olivessa standing in the background quietly taking notes as Bells flashed her brilliance cut away the dwarf's one advantage.
The next two weeks flew by. The election of Bells as Good Mead's next leader seemed so assured that people had even started greeting Bells in the streets with a nod and a 'Speaker'.
Then came election day - the morning of the Solstice.
Olivessa was born to be a person in the background. It was Olivessa who arranged Kendrick's funeral. Olivessa put the chairs out for the hustings and then put them away again at the end. It's Olivessa who meets the Sisters to ensure the town is supplied with healing salves and potions. She's responsible for keeping the general store stocked with the loggers' chains, pulleys and ropes. Olivessa is always in the background - but the structure always is.
She accepts the position to continue the town's administration with a quiet nod of affirmation and a line in her notebook.
People say that amateurs study tactics, but professionals study logistics. Bells' plan for a soup kitchen unfolds into lists of actions in the notebook. Olivessa scratches dates, costings, materials, and the other essential minutia onto the papery bark as she patiently transforms vision into gantt charts. In many ways, Olivessa is like Anders; she's quiet and private as she spends her time plotting routes - but instead of trails through the wilderness, it's through Good Mead's tangled problems.
Bells notices the change on the campaign trail. Nobody looks directly as Olivessa, for who could draw their eyes from Bells? But the familiar administrator's presence answered the question that was never asked - 'who will run Good Mead when you're away?'.
Bells' official slogan had been 'Ring in a new hope', but the reality was that people said 'Bells is just like Kendrick'. It made no sense on the face of it: physically, the huge Kendrick couldn't be more different to Bells; Kendrick's temperament was melancholy, not showy. But the people liked Kendrick; they liked that he had a good heart; but most of all they liked that when he wasn't around, his administrator would ensure that they had supplies, medicines, and someone fair to resolve disputes. In some ways, the people weren't voting for Bells. They were voting for Bells' charm and vision built on Olivessa's reliability.
The bards had been leaning heavily on Shanadar's common sense and his no-nonsense down-to-earth dwarven character. But simply seeing Olivessa standing in the background quietly taking notes as Bells flashed her brilliance cut away the dwarf's one advantage.
The next two weeks flew by. The election of Bells as Good Mead's next leader seemed so assured that people had even started greeting Bells in the streets with a nod and a 'Speaker'.
Then came election day - the morning of the Solstice.
Olivessa Untapoor
Kåresohn (Spit)
Jul 11, 2022 7:10 am
Election day. Winter Solstice, Nightal 20 1489DR
None of you saw it coming, and you didn't see it happen.
Spit enters the Mead Hall with freezing tears running down his face. His breath shakes as he points behind himself with a thumb and gulps in air.
Then dissolves into laughter.
Spit pinches the tears of laughter from his eyes and tries to regain his composure.
"Too funny. Too funny."
Spit recounts the morning's events.
Shanadar was at the shrine - making a big show of dedicating an offering for the electoral battle ahead when a group of eight thugs arrived and started smashing the place up. The thugs looked like out-of-towners; anyway, the Meaders fled the temple.
But not Shanadar! He bravely fought all eight of them and threw them out!
"I know, right? Shanadar, the hero? Shanadar, the defender of Good Mead! Shanadar, standing up to bullies - Kendrick reborn! Eight against one, too.
Anyway, Shanadar's the big man, big dwarf, dunno, whatever, now, right? And everyone's congratulating him. When who should turn up?"
Spit dissolves into giggling again, flapping his hands for you to be patient whilst he finds his composure.
"Rayne's Huskies, dragging the thugs back.
Oh, you should have seen Shanadar. His face was as red as a ruby, and he scurried off meeping like a naughty pine goblin. Funniest thing ever.
Turns out the Shanadar had paid the blokes to get beaten up. The Huskies have confiscated their gold and locked them in the woodshed."
Spit takes a deep breath, then gives a high-pitched "Meep" and cracks up again.
For the curious, that scene was in the book.
In another iteration of the game, the PCs chased down the thugs to beat a confession out of them.
But Rayne has spent so much downtime training the militia I figured that this was a more interesting way of rewarding that.
None of you saw it coming, and you didn't see it happen.
Spit enters the Mead Hall with freezing tears running down his face. His breath shakes as he points behind himself with a thumb and gulps in air.
Then dissolves into laughter.
Spit pinches the tears of laughter from his eyes and tries to regain his composure.
"Too funny. Too funny."
Spit recounts the morning's events.
Shanadar was at the shrine - making a big show of dedicating an offering for the electoral battle ahead when a group of eight thugs arrived and started smashing the place up. The thugs looked like out-of-towners; anyway, the Meaders fled the temple.
But not Shanadar! He bravely fought all eight of them and threw them out!
"I know, right? Shanadar, the hero? Shanadar, the defender of Good Mead! Shanadar, standing up to bullies - Kendrick reborn! Eight against one, too.
Anyway, Shanadar's the big man, big dwarf, dunno, whatever, now, right? And everyone's congratulating him. When who should turn up?"
Spit dissolves into giggling again, flapping his hands for you to be patient whilst he finds his composure.
"Rayne's Huskies, dragging the thugs back.
Oh, you should have seen Shanadar. His face was as red as a ruby, and he scurried off meeping like a naughty pine goblin. Funniest thing ever.
Turns out the Shanadar had paid the blokes to get beaten up. The Huskies have confiscated their gold and locked them in the woodshed."
Spit takes a deep breath, then gives a high-pitched "Meep" and cracks up again.
OOC:
Bells will win in a landslide. Feel free to narrate that and level up.[ +- ] Behind the screen
For the curious, that scene was in the book.
In another iteration of the game, the PCs chased down the thugs to beat a confession out of them.
But Rayne has spent so much downtime training the militia I figured that this was a more interesting way of rewarding that.
Kåresohn (Spit)
Jul 11, 2022 9:08 am
Edmund_Balworth says:
OOC:
Out of curiosity, would Zin know Silvanus? His community were followers of Mielikki, but I’m wondering if all elven gods/goddesses would be known to him?OOC:
Can you give me a DC12 religion check at disadv?Jul 11, 2022 2:05 pm
OOC:
Awesome sauce! Great Job Bells and Rayne! Also, holy cow I thought we were way off script. Cool to know that Wizards thinks down similar lines :) Rolling…Rolls
Zinvaris Willowmire: Religion (disadvantage) - (2d20L1+0)
(1418) = 14
Jul 11, 2022 2:12 pm
Silvanus - the Oak Father. It catches and snags on Zin's mind. He's seen His image somewhere.... somewhere near water? Not water - ice. Zin remembers staring at his likeness, but where?
Anders' cave! That's where Zin remembers seeing Silvanus.
Anders' cave! That's where Zin remembers seeing Silvanus.
Jul 11, 2022 3:54 pm
After dropping off the bounties (literally heads) and retrieving the dwarf, Anders returns to the lands of Good Mead. He was glad to see his shack was still in good shape (figuratively speaking), but he had been enjoying the solitude of the cave. It is a long, quite ride back; though Okto talks, Anders himself is characteristically silent. And upon reaching the town, he departs for his cave without speaking with the group.
In the cave, away from prying eyes, Anders dreams. He sees their faces; after all, hadn't it been in cave not unlike this? He remembers their names on his tongue, the way they laughed. He remembers the brotherhood. And that's when his thoughts drift to his current companions. Had they not also shown a brotherhood of sorts? A level of trust? The darkness of the cave creeps in, and he sees Bell's face, Okto's face... Zin's face... just like theirs.
The only thing to clear his mind is drink. And so he drinks. Anders hides in his cave, fearing for himself and those he cares about. He turns away any who try to visit, and with each visit he looks worse. Dark circles around his eyes, an increasingly maddening glint in his face. Strangely, the bird that seemed to have befriended the ranger is gone. In its place, a beast of unknown origin. Something between a large wolvering, wolf, and bear. Its face is long, and its antlers broad. And it seems to share Anders' mood.
The day of the election, Anders is nowhere to be seen. It is no mystery that this is an important day to Bells, but he still does not show. While a loner and an introvert, this is still odd.
In the cave, away from prying eyes, Anders dreams. He sees their faces; after all, hadn't it been in cave not unlike this? He remembers their names on his tongue, the way they laughed. He remembers the brotherhood. And that's when his thoughts drift to his current companions. Had they not also shown a brotherhood of sorts? A level of trust? The darkness of the cave creeps in, and he sees Bell's face, Okto's face... Zin's face... just like theirs.
The only thing to clear his mind is drink. And so he drinks. Anders hides in his cave, fearing for himself and those he cares about. He turns away any who try to visit, and with each visit he looks worse. Dark circles around his eyes, an increasingly maddening glint in his face. Strangely, the bird that seemed to have befriended the ranger is gone. In its place, a beast of unknown origin. Something between a large wolvering, wolf, and bear. Its face is long, and its antlers broad. And it seems to share Anders' mood.
The day of the election, Anders is nowhere to be seen. It is no mystery that this is an important day to Bells, but he still does not show. While a loner and an introvert, this is still odd.
OOC:
Don't worry gang, he'll either show up the next day.cowleyc sent a note to Adam
Jul 11, 2022 6:57 pm
Convergence. The seemingly random happenings of the world that coalesce into one moment of realization of an overriding pattern. Like age rings of a tree, coils of a seashell or the chance observance of a statue in a remote location in a frigid landscape that ultimately spoke to a larger working design. That cave! Zin felt the hand of Mielikki in it all. Rayne had been talking of ways to possibly remedy his affliction and in an instant, Zin saw it. So shocked by his own perception and faith was Zin that he was locked in an expression of shock and awe with tears welling at the corner of his eyes. Gradually the shock wore off and a content smile rested on the wood elf’s scarred face. He made eye contact with Rayne, …The cave. Where the verbeeg were. Where Anders has been sequestering himself. There is a statue of the Oak father amidst a frozen pool… We only need to figure out how to thaw the pool and you will find your relief, my friend.
Jul 15, 2022 5:22 pm
The whole process had the feel of a sacred ritual. Moving about in low light as the bard stripped to enter the cleansing waters that were warmed enough wisp of steam escaped the surface. Silent retrospective. Her brothers had been raised expected to lead. Bells had only been expected to be the adornment on the arm of a politically expedient marriage but here she was on the brink of ascending to Speaker herself.
But unlike when the bard performed and then received all the accolades being able to walk away having delivered all that was required, Bells was binding herself to the fate of these people. These people would now become hers and she would care for them as best she could. The mantle of leadership settled upon Bells' shoulders like her fine white dress. Responsibilities clung to her form but didn't stiffle her personality like the sparkles threaded in the neckline. Even the color reflected the pure intentions Bells had to advance the lives of the people of Good Mead. With a cornice made of braids on top of her head, the perfectly coiffed woman excited her room for the vote thar would define her future.
But unlike when the bard performed and then received all the accolades being able to walk away having delivered all that was required, Bells was binding herself to the fate of these people. These people would now become hers and she would care for them as best she could. The mantle of leadership settled upon Bells' shoulders like her fine white dress. Responsibilities clung to her form but didn't stiffle her personality like the sparkles threaded in the neckline. Even the color reflected the pure intentions Bells had to advance the lives of the people of Good Mead. With a cornice made of braids on top of her head, the perfectly coiffed woman excited her room for the vote thar would define her future.
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