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Current Situation
- This session takes place late the night of the 12 Mirtul, and the day of 13 Mirtul, 1494
- The Trollmates have spent some time in their beloved home - well, half of it, and are trying to get some good rest. A letter written before Ander's death is presented to them and offers more new questions than answers. They struggle to discern its meaning, find answers to its questions, and dig for additional clues.
Session Summary
- At some point, Erky hands Dhann some papers:
- "Oh heavens, I .. I was meant to give this to...well, we didn't think it would be you. But as the battle of Waterdeep approached, I encouraged Ander to make a note of anything important that may need to be available to allies. I intended to get this out of the city and into the hands of someone else who could help if Waterdeep fell. I think though, Ander believed...something else. I think he knew what was coming. He asked me not to read it." Erky hands Dhann a roll made of a few leaves of parchment. The roll was sealed with wax and pressed with Ander's seal.
- Understanding the implications of what he says, and holds out, Dhann’s heart flutters with a pang of sadness, but not hopelessness. Gently taking the scroll from Erky, Dhann doesn’t stop himself from giving one of the Gnome’s hands a warm squeeze of comfort, or reassurance, or whatever their Head of House may need at this moment. He’s been through much, too. “Thank you, Master Erky, as always and for everything.” He gives Erky a small playful, chastising smile. “I’d offer to help with the dishes so you could sit for a moment but I know you won’t let me.”
- Barrett takes some time to work out and meditate in the dojo on the second floor, which thankfully is still in quite good condition and magically secured like the first floor. Z checks out the new stage and pokes about the second floor as well. Dhann and Ely remain on the first floor.
- Dhann has plans to attempt forming a Waymarker in the Tavern, in the stone at the back of the chimney, and Barrett will help by providing Guidance. The first shaping of the stone is difficult, again, because of the Shadow but Dhann is able to make a small recess in the stone to fit a candle for the shrine. He also shapes a ruby into the icon of Helm's eye to mark the little shrine as for his deity. The second cast seems a bit easier than the first. Dhann lets the group know he needs to pray for different spells tonight and will be able to finish the Waymarker in the morning.
- The group, before retiring for the night, gathers in front of the fire again and Dhann opens the papers from Erky that Ander left behind. There are about ten pages, and Dhann begins to read aloud:
28 Eleint 1493
Here I hope to recount all that I can regarding the death of Vajra Safahr, the seventh Blackstaff of Waterdeep, the loss of Elminster Aumar, Chosen of Mystra and the arrival of the Princes of Shade with the return of Cyric, Prince of Lies. These events occurred many months ago and some details are lost to me. Until now, the events have been too painful to share with anyone. The loss of Vajra, Elminster, and my dear brother’s mind in the same battle has weighed heavily on me. However, on the advice of my mentor and friend, Erky Timbers, I’m inclined to make a record of my recollections in the hope that, if I am lost in the coming battles for the protection of Waterdeep, some may pick up the mantle, resume the fight and destroy Cyric and all his minions, chief among those, Drezlin the Shadowmaster.
Elminster’s Return
Early in Ches of 1493, Elminster returned to Waterdeep and made his presence known to me. Shortly thereafter, we gathered at the tavern in Trollskull soon after his return. He arrived with Silverhand and the Blackstaff. It was then I learned the true meaning and inevitable outcome of the Attack of the West, the destiny of the Mother of the Feywild and the desperation of the situation, should Barrett, Ely, Z, and Dhann fail in their task to recover a mythal seed. Even now, their names ring in my heart though their images slowly fade from my mind. I remained, at the time, suspicious of Silverhand and her motives but Elminster gave assurances that her motives were pure. My attempts to continue training and my connection with the Fey had left me too drained to argue with him at the time. Though, considering how little help she has provided defending her precious city, I now wonder if he truly understood her intentions. Elminster explained that the eclipse was our only chance to add to my power enough to defeat both Drezlin and Cyric. His assurances that I was to be the hero almost sounded comical to me. I had not asked for such a responsibility but, as Planeskeeper and descendant of light and dark, apparently the fates had given me no choice. We didn’t have the stones but he had acquired a Mythallar. The glint in his eyes when his mouth formed the word “acquired” led me to believe that he may have stolen it. He wasn’t confident of success but didn’t believe we were in any danger. Over the next day, we prepared to leave. It was only then I learned he intended to bring Maran, and only then I learned of our true ancestry. I refused to allow Maran to accompany us but Elminster convinced me that the fates and indeed existence itself may require it. Now, in hindsight, if Elminster were not already being punished eternally, I would curse his memory for insisting. My anger with the wizard is only outweighed by my own guilt from not refusing.
Arriving in the abandoned village of Orlbar seemed like a pointless waste of time. Elminster’s teleportation abilities could have taken us straight to our final destination, I believe but then, as seems typical with the old wizard, it turned out he didn’t know our final destination. All he said was that we needed to be fast. There wasn’t any sign of the village when we arrived. Elminster said it had been leveled by stone giants many years before but that it held meaning for us. One of the giants was strange, Zorkh. He had stacked all the stones that remained in the location into a stone forest. Elminster demanded that Maran study the sculptures. I worked with Maran for what seemed like hours. We didn’t even know what we were looking for. Then, at the base of one of the structures, Maran pointed to a single rock bearing our family’s crest. Once he found that, he began scratching diagrams into the ground. Within a few moments, Vajra said she was able to read what he’d written. She relayed that there were certain sculptures that would lead us to our final destination. Maran continued to study and then ultimately led us to the northwest. Elminster cast some form of magic to allow us to travel faster as we followed Maran like a hunting dog.
Despite a safer path available to the south through Llorkh, Maran insisted we travel through the mountains. From there the journey became a series of winding circles, loopbacks, and confusing turns ultimately landing us somewhere in the Frozen Sea. As we finally reached our destination, Elminster uttered “Of course” but wouldn’t explain himself. He set about quickly placing amulets and objects all about us. Vajra aided him as Maran and I looked on. For a time, I truly believed the pair of them had gone mad and even Maran seemed to think their actions bizarre. The pair looked at the sky relentlessly, Elminster with various gadgets measuring things and Vajra mostly shielding her eyes against the bright sun. Finally, Maran gasped as Elminster produced his Mythallar. It sprung from a small box he held outward. He spoke words in some
language I could not understand and the Mythallar floated forward. The objects he had placed began flooding the space before us. At first, it looked like water but then we realized it was some form of liquid Shadow. I stepped forward, thinking at the time we had been betrayed. I hadn’t realized Maran had stepped forward with me. As I drew my sword to attack the Blackstaff, she defended. Maran jumped in front of me to spare me the hit. He was badly injured. While distracted by Maran’s fall, I was able to score a penalizing hit to Vajra before the three of us became paralyzed and fell to the ground. Elminster was the source of our incapacitation and he stood over my body within seconds. He told me to calm myself, the images were only the illusions of what once was. The sea around which we found ourselves, now completely dry, had once been filled with Shadow. The illusions revealed the world as it had been and would help pinpoint the location on which the Mythallar must be placed at the time “when darkness and light are as one.” He helped me to my feet, removed the paralysis, and Vajra, apologies spewing from her lips, ran to tend to Maran. At first, I stood in her way but Elminster bade me allow her help. While she tended to Maran, Elminster and I placed the Mythallar as he requested on the tower revealed by the sea of Shadow.
The Day of Night
After some time, Elminster stood and announced the time had arrived. He began speaking in words I could not understand and the sky darkened. The wind began to swirl and all our minds became less clear. However, before long, he was visibly weakening. As the light dwindled, so did his power. He bade me join him which I did as did Vajra. The three of us stood in a rough circle around the Mythallar. The power from us seemed connected to each other and to the Mythallar itself. As we connected with it, I felt its raw magic being manipulated by Elminster along with my own. As the sky finally blackened, a rift seemed to open, a rift of light like a tear in the sky. Elminster seemed to believe it was working and yelled to me to make myself ready to receive it. I didn’t understand but opened myself and my mind. Then, suddenly, he yelled out and I felt a blast of pain in my shoulder as he broke his connection and slammed me with some spell. I was thrown backward and landed face down. When I righted myself and turned to make sense of the events, I could see across the sea, the visage of our enemy, Drezlin. He had cast Shadow into the Mythallar. The rift in the sky had blackened. He shouted upward to the sky “Demons of night and Shadow, find the portal and bring forth N'asr from his interminable prison that he may reign again over all that is light and bring it to darkness!”
I ran toward them and felt the Mythallar reach out to me. It surged and pulled, taking magic and adding it to itself. It darkened into the color of a blackened pearl swirling in the dimness as a the sun remained shrouded. Elminster shouted to us that we should back away. I could see that Vajra was being pulled as well.
A dark horse, its rider dressed in blackened clothes of nobility, reared up in the gash in the sky and then rode forward toward us, followed by twelve other men, some on horseback, others not. Elminster was locked in his connection to the Mythallar, as were Drezlin, Vajra, and I it seemed. But the horseman was not. He was wreathed in wisps of Shadow. His horse slowed itself as the rider beckoned it to walk slow circles around Elminster.
“Do you not recognize me, old man?” the rider spoke. “Has it been so long that you do not recall our last meeting?”
At that point, Elminster cried out to Mystra. He was broken from the Mythallar but the rest of us remained connected. He shouted to Blackstaff that the rider was Unknown. The Blackstaff was unable to react but Drezlin issued forth an evil laugh that chilled my blood.
The rider and the twelve others proceeded to focus attacks on Elminster. A mighty battle ensued too lengthy, complicated and frenzied to recount in detail here even if I were able. Eventually, Vajra and I were thrown from the connection. Maran ran to her. I could see she was still alive. Her staff had been thrown from her, I called out to him to return it to her and, as he did, she used it to protect them both from a blast from one of the shade princes. She rose, pushed him behind her and proceeded to enter the fray. We each faced three of them at a time and were simply outmatched. Even Maran fought valiantly.
Four of the princes lay slain on the ground. Two were engaged with Elminster, two with Vajra and I had one. A raucous, deep laughter echoed from the sky. I looked up to see a long face, a grin full of sharpened, ravenous teeth, and long spindly arms reaching through the rift in the sky. Elminster shouted that it was Cyric breaking free from his prison. The old wizard grew in size before my eyes. He was forty or fifty feet tall before he stopped growing. A flame ignited around him, metallic, flickering bright like liquid silver. I learned later from Silverhand’s library that it was Silver Fire, a magic solely gifted to the Chosen of Mystra, a magic so raw and powerful as to be a direct antithesis of all that is dark and wreathed in Shadow. It is a magic of last resort. From what I read, Maran and I are lucky to have survived what happened next, though I don’t feel lucky and I’m not sure I can say Maran survived.
As Elminster’s oversized body became wreathed in the quicksilver, the princes began turning in fear. He reached forward and struck Tanthul. The blow was bare-fisted, mighty, accurate and deadly. In an instant, the prince’s body exploded. We were all, Drezlin, myself, the princes, Maran and Vajra, thrown back in the explosion. Another rift was created where the fist met the Prince’s body. Cyric was pulled forward from one rift to another. The two tears in the world spun together like a devil’s wind on a hot summer afternoon. Elminster and Cyric spun, hands grappling each other, yanked, torn, stretched into the rifts. The remaining princes spread, fleeing for the hills. The Mythallar became swept up in the ensuing storm.
Then, even more swiftly than they began, the rifts sealed, taking Cyric, Elminster, and the Mythallar with them. Drezlin let out a terrible scream. He cursed the princes’ retreat, screamed at the sky and began casting spells of darkness in his terrible rage. When he realized Maran, Vajra and I had survived, he turned his rage on us. I pushed Maran behind me as Vajra screamed for us to run. I grabbed Maran but he would not leave her side. I’ve no idea what attached him so to her in the short time we were together but no command I issued to him was enough to break his dedication. Finally, Drezlin reared back and unleashed a magical, black, Shadowy orb from the sky. I was reminded of a fireball but made of Shadow. It was small but when it contacted the ground before us, it unleashed an explosion like I’d never seen before. From there, time seemed to stop. Perhaps it was me, perhaps it is a wishful memory. The ground beneath us cratered, Maran was caught mid- air, and Vajra was gravely injured in a way beyond my desire to recount here.
I was able to place Maran on the ground safely. I too found my footing. Drezlin had already turned to flee, Ghost only a few feet above him with talons bared and anger enough to slice his limbs from him. As time resumed, the explosion was completed. Maran scrambled to his feet and saw my face. He saw me staring at Vajra’s wasted body and he sprang for her. His tears were immediate. He bade me, “Bring her back!”
The Last Breath of the Blackstaff
I ran to her and Maran. He was already over her, his face close to hers. She was whispering to him with whatever strength was left in her. No sooner had I reached her to heal her wounds than the life left her eyes. My magic was all but spent. Maran reached for a healing potion and forced it into her still mouth. It had no effect. My brother screamed my name loudly. It was enough to shake me from the morbid scene. I grabbed the supplies from my pack to ritually bring about her return to her body. I had to use traditional magic with which I wasn’t familiar but I know I did it right. I’m sure of it. Her body began to heal, to regrow, to reconnect itself and repair its wounds. We watched together as the sinew on bone stitched together, the gash on her face sealed itself and her eyes opened. We watched the breath return to her lungs. We waited. And we waited. It was as if her soul never returned. Maran, whether in fear, desperation, or love, I know not, threw himself on top of her. We waited for hours. The sun returned and then the night came and still we waited. Maran fell asleep on her. I sat with them both. The shell of Vajra Safahr and soon, the shell of my brother. She breathed into the night. At dawn, her eyes closed slowly and the breathing finally stopped. Maran awoke shortly thereafter. He said nothing. He cried. We buried her. Maran didn’t speak for most of the return journey. He clung to her staff as it if were her memory itself. When he finally did speak, it was in phrases of gibberish, different languages, and nonsensical words. He even affected differing voices to go with them. To this day, I do not understand what Elminster’s intent had been. He is lost with Cyric, the Blackstaff of Waterdeep is dead and my only remaining brother is lost to me. Ghost remains my only true companion. As I look to the coming days defending Waterdeep against her gravest enemy, I am overcome with despair. If I couldn’t save three people from this dark enemy, how will I ever save an entire city? Perhaps the reader of these worthless notes will find a way. I fear...I will not. Ander Blackwood
- The group has no idea how Elminster Aumar got his hands on a Mythallar and decide in the near future to check with The Roaming Isle and the The Elves of Ardeep to see if perhaps it is one of the ones those groups have.
- It is unknown if Drezlin found a second one for himself in the form of the Death Moon Orb or he somehow retrieved the one that got sucked into the rift with Elminster.
- Dhann and Z are reminded of the vision Tabitha once had, of a gargantuan Elminster using The Nightstone to darken the sun when fighting Cyric, disguised as Mystryl (Mystra) at the time of that particular fight.
- Elyana recalls the story of Elminster and one of the Silverhands fighting with Bane and in that fight, opening and being sucked into a rift. He disappeared for several hundred years and was presumed dead.
- The "black, Shadowy orb" Drezlin used, the group agrees, sounds like the same attack he used to kill Ander.
- The Princes of Shade:
- The legend is that there were thirteen. The High Prince, and his twelve brothers.
- All, or most, are considered lackeys of Shar.
- Telmont Tanthul, the High Prince, was originally banished by Elminster.
- They are known for dark deeds, and infighting to obtain the rank of High Prince is common.
- Malath, one of the twelve, and ten of them, at one time had a full on battle with five of the Chosen of Mystra. Elminster was there alongside a couple of the Silverhands, among others who have been lost to legend. This battle in particular took place at the Mythallar for the Thultanthar, the City of Shade, while it was still within Shar's dominion.
- Damian Krale is not one of the Princes of Shade. He is considered a replacement for Telmont, on the High Prince's banishment.
- The ultimate goal of the Princes is to bring back the old Nethiril Empire.
- With her name coming up more and more often, Shar may be more of a concern than originally thought. She is also the creator of the original Shadow magic.
- It seems that fetching the Mythal seed was still an important venture and can still be used. Dhann checks in with Stout and confirms the familiar is at least still alive and on the Material plane.
- It's wondered if Maran has accidentally attuned to the Blackstaff, leading to his current state.
- The group is in agreement that Elminster is a constant source of frustration.
- Thinking on Elminster's insistence that Maran accompany the group on this disastrous venture, Barrett wonders if they needed Maran to decode anything, at which point Dhann, looking over at Maran, suddenly sees and makes a connection between Maran and the mention of Giants. Staring for a moment at Maran's face, Dhann catches a hint of Giant or potentially, another larger race, and this epiphany takes everyone by surprise, but it makes too much sense to be dismissed as a wild theory. Dhann plans on doing more research on the Blackwood line.
- Barrett suggests that he and those with a special connection to Ander, when they can, examine the belongings left behind when Ander was slain.
- It's agreed that a tenday or so can be taken in the meantime to gather supplies, recenter, and catch up with those allies the group still has within the city. Z plans on doing some intensive weaving to make a carpet large enough to cast a Tiny Hut on top of. Barrett plans on going to the docks during the day to ask fellow sailors what the state of the coast and seas might be. He also thinks finding Nat - if she's in the Cult - and breaking her out is a good idea. Dhann suggests using Renaer Neverember's teleportation circle rug in the basement to cover Trollskull's but still allow the group entry into the Tavern.
- Z uses the silver wand from Aronzi to check in on the state of the research on Lythis's brain as well as where to drop the ciphered journal the Elder Mindflayer mentioned. Aronzi is cool and polite, professional, and says he'll have followers leave the journal and new Shadow research in a hidden location in the Underdark in about three day's time. He also lets Z know that the Cult has essentially overrun the Underdark, using it as a method of transportation and so the Mindflayers have retreated to their own hidden fortresses to avoid interaction as much as possible with the followers of Cyric.
- Elyana uses Dream to reach out to Renaer to let him know that the group will meet him at his home, but if they don't show, that means they're still at the Tavern. She asks for the use of his teleportation carpet and he readily agrees. Renaer cautions the group against traveling at night, but mentions that they should get "Ash bracelets from Erky" should the need for nightly travel become present. Ely happens to land while he's having a nightmare in which he and a group of his resistance fighters are in combat with a tall, spindly, Shadowy demon and Ely places him in the Fey, in a peaceful field to talk to him. He prefers this to the nightmare and so Ely ends the communication.
- Finally bedding down for the night, the group makes themselves as comfortable as they can. Z and Dhann find sleep hard to come by, but eventually are able to drift off, even if their sleep is harried by dreams. Elyana is able to find rest quite easily, comforted by Aiden being found, and well. Barrett, for the first time, doesn't fall into a trance so much as find actual slumber but is otherwise fine. Everyone, regardless of the quality of their rest, gain the benefits of a full night's sleep. The group, going to sleep so late in the night (or early in the morning), doesn't awaken until around two in the afternoon.
-
“The white hairs come with age, to be expected…and honored.” Z is looking in the mirror, barely awake. He crumples his face at the lie he just told himself, then pushes his face closer to the glass. “But what ARE THESE? These dark hairs cropping up like weeds in my splendid garden.“ Z flops his facial fur forward and back dissatisfied with his changing visage and grip on reality. He waves his comb like it’s the handle of the Couatl Whip, crack! “Hold!” He commands his hair.
His attempt at play falls short, however.
Z casts a mock sleep spell on himself, a show of defiance toward his disturbing dreamscape. Whimper, and he goes saggy.
After a moment, Z rallies to make his way toward food and conversation. He has things to share, frightening things, and he is not looking forward to facing it, using words in that way. “The gift of it is apparent, the commitment is imminent, the path is obvious. And now I remind myself that I only live here and that curiosity trumps fear.“ Z distracts himself with a bit of emergent poetry and a softshoe as he makes his way to breakfast.
“Sometimes I feel like a hole,
falling through time and soil,
Tattered and frayed,
By false talk and dark toil.
Here, light is not the option.
Integrity has no shape
And contains nothing.
And contains...
Nothing."
-
- Dhann is awoken first, by Erky, who whispers, "He's awake." Dhann immediately looks over to Maran, who is sitting up and holding the Blackstaff tightly. He turns, though, and with a faint glimmer of recognition, asks, "Dhann?" Erky goes white as a sheet at this, revealing that this is the first time Maran has spoken since Ander's death.
- Dhann asks, "Maran?" to which the middle Blackwood responds in a much deeper voice and with nonsensical speech, in Common. Erky says this is how he was before Ander was lost, so while it seems that Maran still cannot communicate properly, the fact that he's speaking and interacting is a massive improvement.
- The rest of the Trollmates awaken at this exchange. Barrett looks in the journal Evencrest provided and is able to find some of the phrases Maran is now repeating although there's not much more information besides the repetition. Maran seems to be switching around through Common, Elvish, Draconic, Giant, and Dwarvish, at the very least.
- Dhann theorizes that the results of the Divine Intervention either blocked, removed, or dampened the trauma of seeing Ander die, so that Maran can now "function" again in his new normal.
- Ely asks Maran if he remembers what happened yesterday, and he looks confused for a moment, thinking on it, before giving her a Maran-sized hug and answering with more nonsense. He looks about at the group and seems to recognize the Trollmates, happy they're there and chatting amiably. Barrett tries to swap the wooden lock from Maran, for the Blackstaff, but Maran simply takes the lock and looks over it happily without giving up the staff. Z pops open the loom and Maran recognizes this as well and seems pleased to see it again. Dhann observes that he never lets go of, or sets down, the Blackstaff, at any point.
- Barrett uses a Ki contact to extract aspects and learns that Maran, for some reason, has resistance against magic. At this time, Barrett confesses to the group that he tried his Fey-gained hunter's mark ability to see if he could contact Ely with it, and it manifests differently now. He was able to gauge Ely's overall emotional state, as well as her general location. He asks Ely if she felt anything when he did this, and she says, "I'm a little more aware than you think." Dhann tells them that the night before, he saw both Ely's pearl and Barrett's scar glowing in tandem.
- At this time, Elyana reveals that today, the 13 of Mirtul, is Aiden's birthday and that the night before, she and Erky baked a pie. She invites her friends to all partake and everyone appreciatively accepts the offer. They sit down for a late lunch and a gladly received, small celebration. A bit of happiness in an otherwise dark situation overall. Erky's even found a magical candle to stick in the top of the pie. He and Maran both receive a piece of Witchlight Taffy from Dhann and Elyana gives Aiden some items as gifts.
- Maran, on his left wrist, has a silver chain bracelet with two wooden beads on it. Erky says that yes, this is one of the ash bracelets that Renaer mentioned. Ander and Maran made them, after discovering that ashwood, for some reason, can alleviate damage taken from Shadow attacks. There is a finite number of the bracelets. Originally they each had three wooden beads. Erky gives over his own bracelet, with one bead left. As one who has been helping tend to the wounded after nightly skirmishes, he's glad to assist the group by giving his bracelet but begs the group to never travel at night. He's seen some terrible things and clearly the idea of any of the Trollmates being hurt in a similar way distresses Erky greatly. Most of Renaer's people have bracelets of their own. Erky hasn't needed to use his own bracelet, as he's opted for staying indoors to take care of Maran, who never leaves the Tavern. There were originally about fifteen bracelets.
- Elyana wonders if she might be able to brew some moonshine with ashwood to make a drinkable version of the protection the bracelets and beads provide. This may be something Z can help with, as there may be a bit of crafting involved. Z is also wondering as to how to create a "shifty" carpet for the hut, using light and shadow (but not Shadow) to enhance it.
-
"So, Ely, you said you were able to feel me establish a connection to you. Did you feel it for most of the night, or only when I tried to reach out and sense your emotional state?" Barrett asks.
Ely pauses, thinking on the moment. "I didn't feel your attempt at all, but I did notice the our Fey lights had a matching pulse to them. Focusing, I realized that somehow you'd connected with me on at least that level, because I know it wasn't me who'd did anything. It had to be you." Thinking further on the ability he mentioned, she adds, "I also didn't feel you sensing anything about my emotional state, but I hope in the future, you'll ask me about it first and I'll trust that if you ever have to sense anything, it's for good reason." There's a glint in her eye as she says this to Barrett.
Barrett doesn't blush, as he didn't even know he was capable of this until it happened. "Again, I only attempted to connect with you the way I did with the Rasa in the Fey - just to know your location in case you ran - and then suddenly I could sense more. It was only in exploring that new sensation that I discovered I was feeling your emotional state. I backed away as soon as I realized what was happening." He pauses, thinking. "I guess I can see where this might be useful, but honestly, not as useful as being able to connect with any creature I want. I suppose I should try it with someone else in the group, at some point, to know if it works."
Ely sighs. "I'm not accusing you of doing so, but you now have this ability... so I'm setting up a boundary." She looks like she wants to say more, but decides not to comment on the usefulness of being able to know her emotions and whereabouts, or anyone else's for that matter.
Barrett also looks like he wants to say more, but also decides not to comment further.
Ely takes the pause in the conversation as an opportunity to open the Bag of Holding and start summoning several items from inside. She then calls Aiden over, beckoning him to sit beside her. "Speaking of locating someone. If I'm ever not available to find Aiden. I want you all to be absolutely capable of doing it yourselves." Ely opens a pouch and pulls out a little wooden totem of a red raccoon and turns to the redhead. "If anyone in the group needs to find you, they will know you have this." Elyana holds up the little statue of his familiar self so that everyone, including Erky can see it and then she hands Aiden the raccoon totem that he gave her over a year ago. Her voice takes on an older sister, almost motherly tone, "Make sure this is on you at all times. Keep it on your person. Not in your bag, not in your quiver, on you. Okay?"
"Okay." Aiden takes the figurine in his hands like a kid who hasn't seen a toy he played with since he was little. "Hey, I made this."
"Yes. You did. And I want you to keep it from now on." The Half-elf looks at her brother for a silent moment and blinks. He looks up from the figurine, glances at Barrett and then blinks before smiling back at her. Ely chuckles in response. "I knew you would."
"Barrett, if you want to try out this new thing you can do, Aiden is willing to be your first...second test subject. And if it works, it would be a relief to know you could access that ability with him just in case."
Seeing that his friends are going to be further testing new abilities, Dhann stands, picking up his plate. "I'll be consecrating the waymarker in the meantime. I can ritually bless it, so I'll be concentrating on that for about ten minutes." Returning from the kitchen, Dhann gives his neatly stacked, but otherwise filthied armor a glance as he makes his way to the space behind the hearth. He hasn't decided yet if cleaning it as he normally does is the best thing. Using dirtier armor makes sense to not stand out so much in the city, but that wrestles with wanting to tend to his equipment. One takes care of their belongings. Well. He doesn't have to decide now.
Behind the chimney is slightly dimmer and cooler than in front of the fire. Placing a candle within the newly formed alcove, Dhann then pours the powdered silver in a circle around the candle before lighting the wick. Helm's eye looks at the Cleric with a glimmering, crimson shine from above the minuscule flame, inlaid as it is in ruby, this time. Dhann stares back, thinking hard. Clasping his hands and pressing them to his mouth in consideration, he finally closes his eyes and bows his head to commence the longer prayer to dedicate the tiny shrine.
Barrett, caught up in watching Dhann's ritual, replies, "Maybe later. I have some questions for Erky, but I want to wait until Dhann is back with us to ask them."
"Hmm." Ely hands a few more items to Aiden, occasionally glancing at Dhann as well.
Dhann senses the ceremonial magic drawing towards its conclusion, and so he speaks up, his voice quiet, but easily heard by his companions. He doesn't open his eyes or move in any other way. It's clear to those watching that the Cleric is preparing himself to cast a much higher concentration of magic with his next spell to attempt fully establishing the waymarker. "Barrett - if you wouldn't mind a Guiding word..."
Barrett steps forward, placing a hand very gently on the cleric's shoulder, and whispers a prayer for Valkur's blessing. He's seen these shrines set up at various places on the Roaming Isle, but never seen one being created.
Feeling the supportive magic, Dhann opens his eyes and immediately begins to cast the next spell. From where he stands, using his right hand, Dhann traces some sort of sigil in the air in front of him, and then, stepping forward, turns around to face the opposite direction and repeats the gesture. He does this four more times, always returning to his original place before moving to a new spot to turn and face the center, each traced sigil branching from the center like the spokes of a wheel. It occurs to the group that while Dhann has cast this spell once before, in the Fey, this is the first time seeing him cast it.
Finally, Dhann returns to the center, where he started, and kneels down to press his hand onto the warm planks of the tavern floor. A white golden glow, more muted than it should be, begins to illuminate under his palm. Dhann bows his head again and takes a deep, steadying breath, focusing and pulling the spell towards what he hopes is a successful cast.
The glow under Dhann's hand doesn't increase, but the tension in his shoulders does. It's a powerful spell, requiring a complex flow of energy, but the casting of it shouldn't be taking this long even with the added strain of being summoned under the Shadowed sky...Dhann presses his hand down harder, his eyes clenching shut as he ducks his head closer to his chest, seeming to grapple internally with something. The faint light under his palm fuzzily glows, almost lethargic, and then winks out entirely.
Dhann lurches forward but catches himself even as a sharp, pained grunt passes his lips. The way his left hand suddenly snags at the front of his vestments, the stark shock of despair on his face - it looks very much like the Cleric has been struck with an internal wound. He stares at the floor, breathing heavily and scrambling to find a reasoning for what's just happened - but there's nothing. And he realizes, there's nothing, because there wasn't anything. Even Barrett's blessing, in an instant of hindsight, felt empty. His brow is chilled and Dhann swipes a slightly shaking hand across it only to find he's broken into a cold sweat. Is it the Shadow? Is it a severing in his connection to Helm? Did that third Intervention ask for too much? He finds, terribly, he doesn't know what went wrong.
After a few more moments, Dhann gathers himself enough to realize he might be the center of attention he prefers to avoid, and stands - a little unsteadily - from his kneeling position. He coughs slightly to clear his throat and by the time he's properly standing, his emotions are being clamped under control even though to his friends it would be apparent something shook him, badly, and caught him by surprise.
"Perhaps it was too strong a spell..." Dhann states, questions, his voice dry. "The shrine is dedicated. That feels right." He looks over at the alcove. "I...I couldn't feel anything to pull from. Just now." He straightens his clothing, and his expression. "I'll try again tomorrow."
Barrett retrieves Dhann’s glass from the table where they had their (breakfast? lunch?) last meal and offers it to him. “I’m sure it’s the stress and the shadow.” He thinks for a moment, then says, “Maybe Trollskull isn’t going to be a great place to set up our headquarters…if all you spellcasters can’t rely on your spells.”
Ely whirls around, instantly concerned for the Cleric. "Do you need a potion? That looked...painful."
"I...yes." Dhann takes both Barrett's words and the glass to focus on, even if his gaze and thoughts are turned more inward than anything at the moment. He makes his way over to a chair, rejoining the group, and sits down with less of his usual poise. In contrast to just a few minutes go, he looks tired and slightly dazed. Realizing Ely's directed her words at him, Dhann politely waves a decline to the offer. "No, it hurt, but...I'm not hurt. It's more-" He tilts his head a fraction, trying to find an explanation for what was a visceral blow to his spiritual gut. "There...wasn't any energy. Just an emptiness, incredibly sudden." And then he stands, realizing he forgot to do something.
"I'm going to try Sending the Father...maybe that energy will manifest." Dhann moves to be outside of the Sanctum's ring and covers his face with his hands to whisper a message and attempt a quick Send. He's not hiding his message from his friends, but doing what he can to limit anyone potentially spying on the group to read his own lips as he does to others. Dhann's posture is rigid while he waits, but then a slump of his shoulders is obvious and he turns, relief clear in his face and he almost flops back into his chair. He takes a centering breath and picks up his glass. "The Send worked. Father Evencrest and I are going to speak tomorrow...and I'm going to pray at the Hall. I might be there overnight." He grins a little sheepishly. "It has been a while." Dhann nods to himself, reflecting on something. "For now I think I just need to sit, for a moment."
He makes sure to drink the water in controlled, measured sips and by the time the glass is empty, Dhann is settled again into his signature, stoic mien. He rolls the glass in his fingers, watching the last few drops still within the container slide and wobble, but he's listening to the others.
Seeing that they've done all they can for Dhann at the moment, Barrett turns and gently calls Erky from the kitchen. "Erky, thanks again for your hospitality, and everything you've done to keep Trollskull, and Maran, functioning. I have a couple of questions for you, if you have a moment."
"Of course. Sorry, I was distracted by my bread. It's starting to smell good, don't you think?"
"I do." Barrett had noticed the aroma drifting from the kitchen. "I've never had a meal of yours that didn't satisfy, even under the worst conditions."
"Erky," He says, turning a bit more serious, "As you know, some of us have...had special relationships with Ander. Special ties. We would very much like to examine those items that you mentioned he...um, that he left behind. I think you said it was his bracelet, which Maran has over there, a scrap of his clothing and the hilt of his sword. Are those other two relics here?"
Clearly somewhat shaken by the memories, Erky looks away, pauses, then turns his back on Barrett to tend to his oven. Haltingly, he responds, “Of course. Yes, they are in the basement in a small chest of Ander’s things. I….I didn’t want Maran stumbling on them. May I fetch them for you as soon as the bread is done? It won’t be but another few minutes.”
“That would be fine. Thank you, Erky, we will try to be careful with Maran. On that note,” Barrett says, turning to the others, “Do one of you want to see if Maran is willing to give up that bracelet for a few minutes? I’m going to ritually cast Detect Magic so I can watch with those eyes as we research these things. I’ll be back with you in ten minutes.”
A few minutes pass and Erky returns with a medium-sized chest. The chest is surprisingly ornate and looks a little out of place inside the humility of the tavern as it is now. He hefts it up onto the bar in front of Barrett just as Barrett's ritual completes. He glances at Maran to make sure the boy isn't watching. "Mirt delivered the chest after...well, after. He had a few things that were already in it, papers and things, but everything else was things we found that he'd left around Trollskull. He wasn't very tidy..." Erky chuckles a bit remembering. "I hope whatever is in here helps you."
While waiting for Dhann or Ely to talk with Maran and acquire his bracelet, Barrett decides to give the chest a once-over before opening it. No reason to suspect any traps, but he might find some external hidden compartments.
Dhann's been watching Maran since coming back to sit with the group. Not being able to understand the meaning behind the boy's words, even if he's been able to understand the individual words themselves, has Dhann's mind running in circles. It's a good distraction from...anyway. What do we know? Multiple languages. Fine. His sentences? The words don't fit together to form comprehensible meaning. Sentences, sure. But no meaning - at least for us. So...so Maran knows what he's trying to get across. We don't. The structure is off...but only as far as it would be off if one was trying to use...our structure of speaking. Yes? No? I don't think it's as simple as words replacing...more words. He's obviously speaking with intention but we're losing his message in the dissonance. Damn.
The Cleric runs a hand through his hair in slight frustration before pressing his fingers to his mouth in thought. Then, having an idea, he sits forward slightly and asks, "Maran?" He doesn't make any gestures along with this, wanting to see if the middle Blackwood responds to his name, only.
Maran's head turns to look at Dhann. The look, however, is not one of recognition but of questioning. It is as if he has turned to respond to an utterance, not his own name. "Harma móre cen- vardarianna ilya" The language is an old evlish which translates loosely to "treasure black see tree all." Maran does not seem disturbed or frustrated or anything beyond a mild confusion.
Huh - that can't be Maran...can it? His ear catches two words, though, that give him an idea. He doubts it'll work but experimentation always leads to something, so...Dhann slips the Blackwood signet ring off of his finger, and holds it up for Maran to clearly see it. Dhann points at the crest, then politely gestures with an open palm at Maran. "You know Maran Blackwood?" Dhann repeats the boy's name, then puts his hand against his own chest. "I'm Dhann."
The Cleric uses Elvish, and stands, as well, in case this is an introduction. Maran also stands, regally, and reaches out a hand. The voice that responds sounds feminine and is in common. "Who would his returns fly?"
Dhann reaches slightly forward, offering a hand in the universal gesture of meeting, seeing if Maran will clasp his open palm. Well. Time to throw self-consciousness to the wind of theory. Keeping his intonation and expression in a formal combination marking a first meeting between two strangers, he says, in Draconic, "A muted spring, I deem such weather."
Maran's head cocks a little to the left. He smiles a gentle smile. He responds in the same voice but in draconic (translated). "The tower is yet at bay. We give thanks to the lady." As Maran speaks these words, he slowly dissolves into a green mist. His form still visible but made only of fine drops of green liquid. For a moment longer, he remains this way, then his form returns to him, and he smiles in a way that almost reflects pity for Dhann.
Dhann can't help jolting his hand forward as Maran suddenly dissolves and rematerializes, but hurriedly pulls his hand back, hoping he hasn't startled the boy. And then he can't help the quizzical look that tweaks across his brow for just a moment as he squarely meet's Maran's gaze and picks part of the sentence to repeat. "The lady?" He stays in Draconic, holding his hands up with a slight beseeching motion, and a shrug, trying to communicate he doesn't understand. But rather than look about, he keeps his eyes focused on Maran's.
Maran suddenly looks distracted. He steps across the room to the dusty wine rack. He looks through the bottles and selects one, blowing dust from it. He moves then to the bar casting a glance at Erky and Barrett with a chest. He takes two glasses, returns to Dhann and hands him the glasses while uncorking the bottle. He holds the bottle out to pour waiting for the glasses to be held up.
Dhann stares blankly at the glasses that he find himself holding and takes in Maran's much more relaxed, friendly posture before gesturing at himself and his vestments and clearly shaking his head, dropping suddenly into Sylvan. "Oh, no - I couldn't." The mannerly grin of clerical refusal on his face comes much more easily than he expected due to the bizarre situation. Maran. Offering alcohol. But it's not Maran. But it is alcohol. Being offered by, essentially, a kid.
Maran stares at Dhann quizzically. He pours wine into one of the glasses and sets the bottle on the small table next to the chair in which he was sitting. He walks back to the chair and sits, one leg thrown casually over one arm. The staff held tightly in his arms slowly grows in size. It remains black but takes on the shape of an old, gnarled tree branch. "No, he casts not words for any safehouse fine for now. Don’t trust it calm down among friends." His gaze shifts and he stares into the fire, lost in thought with his glass of wine. His voice, markedly deeper now, carries a depth with it, a grizzled wisdom of sorts. "Fenusch." The wine in his glass changes from a deep red to a glittering teal color, then gold, then back to deep red. He smiles for a moment and then looks back to the fire. After a moment or two, he looks at Dhann expectantly. "Rich field ogre stands carriage."
This interaction between Maran and Dhann had only vaguely caught Elyana’s attention. But it was Maran’s sudden dissolving and reappearance that pulls all her focus. And now, more so even, is his… someone’s insistence for Dhann to drink with them. She gives Dhann a look and mouths, “What do you want to do?” She doesn’t understand half of what is going on, but can at least tell there’s some sort of breakthrough happening and doesn’t want to intercede without Dhann’s permission.
Dhann's eyes flick at Ely's and it's only because they've been together, every day for quite some time now, that she can tell the polite, little grin on his face isn't held so much as plastered on. It's not lost on him that this is the longest a specific...person has seemingly held sway. Dhann gingerly holds out the glass. Maran indicates to the other chair near the fire and smiles. He points to the bottle nonchalantly indicating Dhann should help himself to wine if he chooses. Then he seems mildly distracted by his fingertips which seem to be gently glowing with a dim grey light. "The somber lord fruit winter light."
"Oh, thank the gods," Dhann flings to the benevolent pantheon, as he gives a gracious smile and slides his blessedly empty glass next to the bottle before settling into the seat offered and - he hopes - remarking on what this person seems to be.
Alright, that's over, now - nonsense responses got me a pitying reaction, so...So...What? Phrases? Do I know any about - huh. That light looks odd, at least to me..."Ah," The Cleric says, mirroring the way Maran is holding his hand to look at the glow. “Attempting to phone home?" He then points up, and then a little higher, to gesture through the tavern to the dim sky outside, and shakes his head. "Bad connection."
Maran sips the wine slowly as if savoring it, more than drinking it. “Ashemon’s trial makes safe green lights. “
Dhann watches Maran and struggles with realizing this could potentially go nowhere, or somewhere. He's not sure and as he sits and it begins to hit, truly, that this is Maran he's looking at, and after everything they've just learned, it - I mean, it...just- It might help. Maybe the two of them - whoever this other is - just sitting and...gods, socializing, or whatever this might be. Whoever it is strikes Dhann as terribly lonely. And in horrible contrast, Maran may even be stuck in there somewhere, with so many others, but not able to speak. "Ashemon's trial makes safe green lights," Dhann repeats. And then stands, and pours just enough wine to be easily swished around in conversation, or glanced at, but not necessarily drunk, and sits back down.
Maran smiles watching Dhann pour the wine and reaches his glass out for a little more. After Dhann tops of the glass, he says with a sly grin, "Yes. Ashemon's trial makes safe green lights." He winks at Dhann and then lets out a mischievous chuckle. "And Krehlan without silver but still grey." His chuckle turns into a belly laugh. "But silver wanted he not. Kind though grey. So Samark hears. Kind still kills."
Elyana has lived her life surrounded by people who imbibe, from the lesser to the greater extents. Watching Maran sip his wine slowly and carefully, she doesn't see the young Blackwood anymore, but a grown man with established tastes. Watching Dhann swirl his one cup in the same way, she knows the Cleric would do anything to protect Maran. But this was someone else enjoying that wine, not Maran. Not to her understanding of the situation anyways. She gets up from her place at one of the tables, strides over to Dhann, carefully whispering into his ear. It's a quick word, before she gives him a knowing look. She smiles at Maran before returning to her seat.
Maran smiles back and then squints a bit at Ely. He slowly looks around and looks slightly embarrassed. He withdraws his leg from the arm of the chair and sits up straight. He looks for a moment at the staff in his lap and sets its point on the ground next to the chair so it still leans against his knee. He looks at the wine and smells it. His nose turns up and he sets the glass on the table next to the bottle. He straightens his clothing a bit and then looks at Dhann, glances at Ely, notices Z coming into the room and announces in a feminine voice, "Vadras. We must seek Vadras. Lest the tears wash growing."
Dhann gratefully turns to receive the words Ely whispers to him, and then observes the change, once again, show someone else speaking to them through Maran’s body. Instantly picking up on the disdain towards the wine, Dhann efficiently but politely gathers up the bottle and second glass, still holding his own. With a gracious smile and nod, he says kindly, “I’ll just move these out of our way.” With that, he slips out of the common room and moves toward the kitchen, giving Z a quick nod before edging past Erky and Barrett, and disappearing through the door behind the bar.
Barrett, seeing Dhann’s exit and having missed all but the end of the last Maran exchange, says, “Hurry back, we need to take a look at this chest together.” He looks meaningfully at his companions. “Soon.”
Amber eyes track Dhann and then the red of the wine sloshing around in the glass and bottle as he makes his leave. Her mind recalls not so recent memories and she stares in his direction for a long time until Barrett voice urges the fellow Cleric to hurry back to them. Sigh. She turns away to address Barrett, now leaning in his direction. "Did you find something interesting? Important?"
A few minutes later, Dhann emerges from the kitchen, twisting the Blackwood signet ring around on his finger, brow furrowed in thought. Hearing Ely speak up in reference to the chest, Dhann takes up a place on the inside of the bar, opposite Barrett and nods in agreement toward the Warlock's questions.
Barrett hefts the chest to a table that is a bit out of Maran's view, just in case the contents are something they would rather him not see. No need to dredge up additional unnecessary memories.
The chest itself is incredibly ornate. It is crafted from wood similar to ebony. The sides and back are unadorned but the lid is inset with decorative embellishments in leaf patterns wrapping around a circle of what appears to be mother-of-pearl. Inside the mother-of-pearl inlay is some sort of black gem, perhaps onyx, inlaid into the shape of the Blackwood family crest. While none of us are carpenters, per se, we easily recognize the value of the piece. It seems pretty heavy. The chest has two drawers along the bottom. Both have square wooden handles. One of the two handles seems a bit loose but the chest does seem pretty old so that is probably to be expected. There is no apparent keyhole.
"I was inspecting this for traps and tricks, when Erky showed me how the mechanism works to open it," Barrett says, manipulating a delicate leaf and pressing slightly on another one to demonstrate. "When he did, it popped the lid open just a bit, and with Detect Magic up, I can see there are several glows from magic items inside. One, in particular, is of a magic with which I have little experience. It is sorta' disturbing; it's the dark grey color of heavy rain clouds."
With that, Barrett lifts the lid and reveals...
The lid of the chest creaks open and a number of objects are inside. On top is a small, removable shelf. The shelf is clearly made for smaller items and papers and is currently full of both. There are a number of pieces of parchment that will need to be sorted through, some are sealed, some are not and one, in particular glows with illusion magic. In addition to the papers, there are a few quills and a half empty bottle of ink. The ink also glows with the same magic. There are also three feathers, two flight and one tail. The feathers are white with flecks of black and grey.
Beneath the tray are a number of items. The one’s Barrett notices first are the two that are glowing with the stormy grey color. These are a rather evil looking dagger and a small chest about the size of a small shoebox. The dagger is black and pewter in appearance. It looks very old but well-polished, clean, and neatly stored in a short scabbard of darkened and worn leather with two straps meant to be tied around the leg. Other items beneath the tray include: a portrait of what appears to be the Blackwood family when Ander was around four, two blue dragon scales, a broken teardrop pendant made of wood tied with a black leather cord, a small silver ring with a sapphire center, a map of Faerun with some scribbling and notes on it, a small leather vest, a bag of marbles, two small potions, a bag of coins, a rook from a chess game, a handheld crossbow with three bolts, a perfectly preserved (and seemingly alive) rose with deep red petals, a small chunk of wood about the size of a matchbox, a pendant of the sun, bright white on one side and black on the other, an old leather bracer with a broken strap, and a small wooden doll with worn clothing.
Dhann takes in the amount of small items that are all that’s left of the young man they’d only last seen, as far as the group comprehends it, roughly two tenday ago. Feelings of invading someone’s privacy war with needing to find answers for the present cataclysm, and a way forward. He doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, but offers a small prayer for Ander…wherever he may be. “I don’t mind sorting the papers,” He then offers, his voice quiet.
Barrett nods, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Maran is still occupied. "I don't mind, but let me tell you what I'm seeing that has magic, before the spell fades." He starts inventorying each item that is giving off anything, including the school as best he can determine it. It reminds him of a similar exercise from one of Stardust's classes. That seems like a hundred years and at least two deaths ago. He finishes, then adds, "Oh, there's one other thing I'm noticing. Some of the known magic items either aren't lighting up or are very weak." Fixing his gaze on Dhann, he says, clearly trying to be gentle, “Like your shield.”
It takes Dhann a moment to process just exactly what Barrett has said to him. “Mine?” He asks, giving Barrett a confused look, even as he’s moving to retrieve it. Not mine. Not my shield.
Dhann moves his gauntlets out of his shield and then hefts it up with both hands to stare at the Eye, as if he can focus on the magic as Barrett, but to his mundane gaze, he sees just what he always has. Turning to the Monk, taking a step towards the table where the rest are gathered, he asks, “Weak? Or nothing?” The Cleric’s voice is tense and it’s clear he’s praying there’s been some sort of mistake. “Perhaps you meant my gauntlets.”
He must be mistaken. But Barrett has never made a mistake in identifying magic.
"What?" The Warlock can't believe her ears. "Are we sure? Are you sure?" Knowing how much the shield means to Dhann, she can't even imagine how he's feeling right now. "Are there any other items that came up, Barrett? You said some."
Z looks on, somewhat reluctantly, over the opening of the chest and the unveiling of the items. The bag of marbles and doll in particular draw his interest. He is disappointed at the lack of clear narrative in the collection, the kind that would provide a tad of emotional closure. Not seeing it yet, not feeling it yet. As the results of Barrett’s magical detection start to register on the group, however, and the tone shifts from solemn to sullen, Z puts away his thoughts of confession (and ensuing display) for another time. “It can wait…for a short while. I can’t start without it. And I’m going to need a piece of those shards, too, must remember.“
Barrett describes what he's seeing to the group. After a few exploratory twirls of Yelqen's Bow Staff, he stores it back in the efficient quiver. Noting everyone's sour expressions, he says, "Just remember, you're getting your information from the guy who took over eight years to pick up one level of Cleric; so just take what I'm saying with a grain of salt. I was never the sharpest dagger in the drawer when it came to magic. I could be vey wrong about what I'm seeing, or how I'm interpreting it, or...or there could be something wrong with my Detect Magic spell, but it's such a simple one that it doesn't seem likely. Who knows? Dhann, if you are going to talk with Evencrest, you should definitely ask him for more details."
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Next Time On...
Not really answers so much as more information, leave the Maybesitters with even more questions, concerns, and comments. And armed with this new information, the group prepares to meet with Renaer and Durnan.