The Beginning: The Baron's Study

Hawkwind nods at his companions suggestion, "I agree, I don't fancy getting lost in a forest."

"A road left by the ancients, yes, I hope that it isn't too overgrown. Even if it is, if we take our time and follow it, then we should be in good shape."

Now that they've settled on a course of action, she's ready to go. Eager even. Impatient? Growing more so.

"A guide will lead you to the beginning at the edge of the Forest here." The Baron promises, pointing at the crude drawing of trees in the north-western part of the map.

He senses some impatience and is pleased. With a subtle wave of his hand the small throw rug on the floor literally moves itself to reveal a perfect circle that appears to be a sigil of some sort engraved upon the floor with artistic skill.

"It’s possible will face creatures that are not of this world but spirit. Some cannot be harmed by normal weapons. If you place a favored weapon inside the circle I will give you the power to wound what cannot be wounded."

He walks over next to the circle and, speaking a few arcane words, traces the floor next to the sigil creating a greenish smaller circle in which he then stands in, holding his cane up. Some might guess it’s a spell focus.

Grimbly steps forward, hands his crowbar to the baron, then steps back. "The guide does not know the forest at all?"

He still wondered about finding their way amongst the trees and ancient paths.

Xaka looks at her spear, and the spirit focus, and thinks about the dangers they'll face. Clearly bad luck was coming back upon them thricefold!

She also hands her spear to the baron, and steps well back lest her soul be sucked out by the profane ritual.

Slightly annoyed by the prospect of an enemy that can't be harmed with normal weapons, Hawkwind hands the Baron his blackjack.

Kendral hands the Baron his bow and quiver of arrows.

After the weapons are placed inside the circle, The Baron waves his cane over them and chants arcane phrases.

As he does so, runes that were invisible begin to shimmer and glow on the circle and the cane. His eyes close and his face winces as he waves the cane with a flourish; the procedure is clearly straining him.

A tingling sensation is felt in your solar plexus as a radiant mist leaves your chest, lingers briefly over the circle, then melts into your weapon. The color is one that reveals an aspect of you and the weapon’s physical appearance also changes to also reveal a deep spiritual truth about you. You feel strongly bonded to your weapon; like it's an extension of your psyche. It’s definitely an upgrade.


After the procedure, the servant helps the Baron to his chair, encouraging him to rest and promising to bring him a drink. The Baron thanks the servant as he informs you "After seven days the magic begins to wane and your weapon will return to its normal state. While its like this, let no Necromancer take possession of your weapon" he warns. "It can be used to turn you into a slave."

As the radiant blue-green swirling mist lifts from Kendral's chest and joins with his mundane bow he instantly feels a connection to the weapon. It feels like it houses his soul. And if the weapon were lost, so would be that soul.

As the magic works on the weapon, its bow string begins to appear to be made of the swirling blue-green energy that Kendral saw lift from him. The bow's limbs become gnarled branches of ancient trees. The design looks rough and untamed; yet wrapped around the grip are intertwined vines that extend out over the bow's limbs caressing the weapon.

The bow reveals to the elf how his untamed, free-thinking defiance of his people's traditions has had the side effect of leading him to a gnarled emotional state of loneliness. But the enchanted weapon, as its vines suggest, seems to show Kendral that which he has been unwilling to admit: it's only through strong interconnections with others can one be whole and strong.

Xaka's aura emerges from her body, much to her dismay, and settles on her weapon. The cloud is a pale daffodil yellow, much to her increasing dismay. She is somehow embarrassed that this naked truth about her is laid bare before the others.

The spear itself when it transforms, looks pretty yet sturdy. The tip has become clear yellow crystal, sharp and faceted. The body of the weapon is perfected, unnaturally straight as if forged from iron rather than harvested from oak. It is adorned with tiny, intricate looping carvings of flowers, that provide a better grip.

Together it speaks of her resolution and fortitude. She is determined to the point of being stubborn, while maintaining her femininity.

A raw purple energy emerges from Hawkwind’s chest and settles on his blackjack. It doesn’t look all that different, but it feels different. He gives the blackjack a few swings, the weapon feels much lighter and stronger than before.

Grimbly's eyes go wide with awe. He suddenly feels a deep connection to his silly crowbar which up until now was merely a tool. This new connection he felt was akin to his love of the earth and its rich life-giving soil.

His chest feels odd, almost itchy, yet not unpleasant as an earth-colored light flows outward from it and swirls around his crowbar the shape of which changes as if it is bending slowly into another form altogether. It elongates, forms a handle and becomes a spear with a very sharp point. With this spear he will be steadfast in his mission.

The Baron offers all of you an invite to dinner and comfortable rooms for the night with the promise of a guide to get you started bright and early in the morning.

This ends Chapter 1; The Beginning. You may free form RP (RP that doesn't involve the GM). I plan to start the new chapter this Thursday. Great game so far, +1 Karma to all of you for a good start.

After dinner Kendral shares his knowledge with the others regarding the Baron's map and his cross references with others he has in his satchel.

He explains, "The Castle and the Black Fortress are one and the same. If we keep to the path at a normal pace we should reach the Fort in 3 days. The Cave of Rest, being about half way, will take about a day and a half to reach, at our normal pace. When we come across it we will be sure we are on the right path. But if we keep to path there is really little chance of getting lost."

...

Later when he is alone in his room, Kendral opens a window and gives a hoot. When Moonshadow flys in he says, "Hello my friend. We won't tell Xaka I let you in."

Belvedere of Rookwood

The sound of fumbling just beyond the doorway. A moment later and a very tipsy Belvedere is slumped against the door frame, a half-empty glass of wine sloshing about in one hand.

"I’m late! I’m late! I know, I know! You simply mustn’t hold it against me!

Forgive this tyrant, won’t you?! I’m hic beastly! Positively ghastly!" he says, putting on some dramatic flair before flashing a smile at those gathered. The skald’s teeth are wine-stained red.

"I must have taken a left when the rest of you took a right! I ended up amongst the wine and cheeses, I’m afraid."

He steps into the room, aiming for a chair at the table. His wine glass spills over as he travels, and a red patch of liquid spreads into the man’s striped trousers. He stops a moment in his tracks to inspect the damage, before meandering forward to the chair.

"Don’t wait a moment longer! Terribly, terribly, hic terribly sorry to have kept you all waiting! Now, let’s begin!"

He plops himself down, and looks expectantly at the others around the table.

"My, my! You all look practically radiant! Splendid. Ha… hic Haven’t you been gorging yourselves on the meats? They are quite lovely." he says, reaching forward to pinch a piece of meat off between his two fingers.

Grimbly, his mouth still full, nods and replies, "Yesh." Finally satisfyingly stuffed, he listens to Kendral impart what he has learned.

"Seems straightforward enough. Let's hope the path is easy to follow then."

After catching up on news and gossip he finally retires to his room. Compared to sleeping on the road or in his simple shack, these accommodations were luxurious with the most comfortable bed he had ever had the good fortune to lay his head on. Within seconds he had fallen asleep, his boots still on his feet.