Game Posts

Pyregrip Iman responds with squinting eyes as he is just feeling the life come back to him.
Pyromancy was my family’s craft. Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to learn the skill. Iman pauses for a moment and takes the gift from the knight. It was Glaive. An 18 inch edged blade on a 7 ft pole lined with orange linen bandages for grip with a spiked end.

Thank you, erm, Sir. I will proudly wield it in battle. But me, a knight? I’m not sure I fit the type, but I will honor your act and fight for what i feel is just.

To Torden, Thank you Stormhammer, it doesn’t even feel like we just met. I feel like I will be recovering just fine because of you.

Everyone else okay? Are we still getting dinner?

"It was lunch that we missed, I believe." Torden drawls. "Sounds like I'm not the only one getting a serious case of the munchies." The dwarf, who had insisted on helping repair the shattered doors and windows but had been shooed away by the local artisans mainly because he hadn't been very good at it, now sits heavy-lidded, with feet propped on a chair, smoking a pipe loaded with a sweet-smelling leaf unlike any pipeweed anyone has seen before. Having used up his magical reserves healing Iman and Aegar, Torden is forced to let his own wounds heal the regular way and the soothing herb smoke wafting about him is a welcome balm to the pain.

"Pissing on their own boots?" Torden chuckles, blowing smoke rings. "I must say that's not the strangest ritual for admittance I've witnessed. I once saw a tribe of llama racers who, at the start of each race, would each fill their left boot with piss and then drink it!"

Pageflap sits at the table, spellbook open to his Detect Magic spell. In front of him sits a normal looking weasel. As he's casting his spell, he repeats Rose's mentioning of the Night Lord and his golden mask. He twirls his talon in a carry on gesture, asking if there's anything else she knows about him.

He the tosses some sweet looking bread into his beak.

And how far off is this Lonely Torch from here, Rose?

When things settle down a bit, Kit addresses his companions (after properly introducing himself to Torden, of course). I begin to see why you have remained in this town. Defending the townspeople from these ruffians has surely been taxing to you all. I fear asking what has become of Raishe. And though wiping out the Nightblades once and for all would be a worthy endeavor, I bring news of a more pressing nature. Though I fear that the nearly two months it has taken me to return to you may have already doomed this town to the threat below.

As Kit speaks, you notice that there are several changes in him that seem unlikely to have happened in the few hours since you saw him last. Though still not what one would consider muscle-bound, Kit seems physically stronger than he had been. Aside from his newly demonstrated use of spells that go beyond mere illusion (and his standing his ground in battle rather than fleeing), the staff he carries with such ease belies the ineptness he previously showed with weapons. And the leather armor he wears certainly appears to have been put through its paces.

To begin, he continues, with Pageflap's assistance, I have learned that my uncle's grimoire is a communications portal, of sorts. It allowed me to speak to members of a far-off world known as the Feywild. I also believe that the tome's nearness to the tentacled horrors below facilitated that communication. The Fey brought me to them and trained me these past months, offering to grant me new abilities in exchange for my aid.

We now can put a name to what we face, though that in no way diminishes its horror. It is known as the Blight. It has infected much of the Feywild and now appears to be gaining a foothold here. We must stop it! In my time training with the Fey, I have seen fields of waving tentacles, as far as the eye can see. If it is allowed to spread here, in Arkasia, I fear we are all doomed.

He smiles as he puts a hand on Pageflap's shoulder. Luckily, dear Pageflap has shown us the key to battling them. Cold! Cold is the answer! It is the reason it is so warm below. They thrive in the heat. But I have also learned some small spellcraft, similar to Pageflap's, to freeze these nightmare creatures.

So much time has past that I fear we may be too late! But with your assistance, I believe we now have the tools to defeat this wretched enemy before it spreads too far.

Torden lets out a low whistle as Kit describes the Blight. "The Feywild. Tricksy place, that, or so I've heard. And this Blight does sound like a far nastier deal than Ralavaz and his goons. No telling what those lousy Night Blades will do to the town while we're off fighting this Blight though."

Aegar takes in everything Kit has to say, digesting it before he makes his reply. While these Night Blades do need to be dealt with, I agree with Torden and feel the end of the world may be a little more pressing. Kit, you say you've been gone for months; while here you only disappeared for a day or so.

OOC:

If this is wrong just let me know and I'll fix it

Perhaps all is not as lost as it seems. Aegar looks at the rest of the party What do you all think? Ready to fight some more tentacles?

The Blight? Feywild? 2 months? Iman mutters to himself as he tries to comprehend what Kit just announced.

Pageflap nods at the mention of his name in regards to helping Kit reach the feywild. He looks towards his new familiar and sees with his magical eyes, noting how the magic flows around it and how it connects him to the weasel. He's never seen fey magic, so he assumes this is what it looks like and sneaks a glance at Kit to confirm.

Pageflap answers Aegar with a shake of his head. Giving a snore, he tells him that he'll be more ready after reading for the night. He casts a puff of smoke with prestidigitation to say that he's pretty low on spells after a day full of fighting.

Leaving the inn early, Pageflap headed towards the local jailhouse. Taking a seat relatively close to the building, he held out his talon and summoned his familiar onto it. Giving it some instructions, the weasel who he still needed to be named now that he thought about it ran towards the jail and went to find the Night Blades to do some eavesdropping.

While he waited for them to wake up or start talking, he pulled out his spellbook and began preparing the spells he would need for today.

Once the weasel gives him a telepathic signal that they're awake and talking however, he plans to drop what he's doing and see what it's like to focus his senses through his familiar.

Realization begins to set in for Kit. Hours? But I was gone for months! How can this be? He sits down, stunned. The training, the traveling. I sat at the court of Queen Titania. I know I was there. I have the powers she granted me. He seems to be visibly struggling with looking into nothingness and trying to focus on those around him. He smiles briefly. That means it's not too late to stop the Blight. Here. Now. I thought it had months to grow. His smile fades and his eyes unfocus again. Only hours, he mutters. I remember the training, the powers, the bargain I struck. Other things fade. He shakes his head. I need to... Kit trails off. He stands and continues, I need to write this all down. It begins to fade from my mind. As if it were all a dream. He heads for his room, muttering. A fevered dream on a midsummer's night.

A proper tests and a few meals have done wonders for Barendd's disposition. He sits at breakfast eating to his heart's content waiting for his friends to make their way to him. He is wearing his new cloak over his normal clothing and armor, knowing that the new day brings new dangers with it.
As he waits for the others he begins to.collect his thoughts.

Iman and Aegar seemed a little worse for wear after their latest encounter perhaps having a good to means of attack when trouble presents itself.

Pageflap has proven himself to be capable under pressure and quite good at combat. He needs it remember to tell his feathered friend how proud he is of how far he's progressed as a warrior and a friend.

Kit's revelation about the blight and his time difference seems a little beyond him, though Barendd is glad that he's trained for fighting and doesn't seem to be made of glass as much anymore.

His last thoughts stopped with Torden. Prior to their skirmish Barendd was quite distrustful of his fellow dwarf. What motives did he have to ingratiate himself to the group? He wears his holy symbols and acts like everyone's friend?
However when the cards were down he showed that he could be trusted to act in everyone's best interest. He fought bravely and even healed some of the group when he didn't have to and he could have easily focused on himself. Barendd didn't know how to intimate as such, but their brief time fighting together had earned Torden his respect, and opened the door to also earn his trust. Which honestly wouldn't be too much of a task if Torden felt like joining in on more adventures.He also examines the addition he had made to Leachclaw. He had reinforced the joining of the claw to the crowbar using some.of the dog's chain, wrapping it tight where they meet and adding some of the purple.acid to etch the chain, he was proud of his work, though he didn't know if this would.impact the utility of his new favorite weapon.

I can’t remember the last time I was this sore...that blasted Red Beard. Just let him come at me by himself next, I’ll cut him in two!

After the long rest, Iman recalls himself falling before his enemies and cant help but feel upset.

They will remain locked up for awhile though, so we can deal with the bandits later, although I feel like their companions might come look for them and wonder why they haven’t made it back to the Lonely Torch. But we have more urgent matter you say?
Iman asks Kit.