12/13/14
Brenaed looked behind him as they rode away from Jover Hill keep. He understood that their quest had been a longshot at best, but somehow he never considered failure. He could not help but feel some dismay at returning empty handed. They had started by searching the top floor, finding a few items of interest, but not a godstone. Brenaed had even found within himself courage he did not know was there... he had begun opening doors into unknown rooms and leading the way to investigate the towers where they knew these skeletal warriors to be. He had felt alive, and poised for victory. The search of the ground floor had revealed more skeletons and even some wights that seemed to take their meaningless jobs seriously. Some skeletons had seemed content to wait for food that would never arrive, and some had guarded meetings that didn't happen. Eventually they had gone below the surface. They had found the burned kitchen and investigated the food storage below where they had utterly failed to see the gelatinous cube waiting for them. They had prevailed, rested for a night, and searched other stairways below the surface. A dungeon had been uncovered, though it was empty. Then they had found a secure room where snakes had made a home, and after removing the large snakes they discovered a hidden passageway. Brenaed had watched while the man with many names had worked a miracle in deactivating a deadly trap, and he had felt his heart race as they all knew they were about to find the godstone. And yet, it hadn't been there. They had searched the keep again just to make sure they hadn't missed anything.
And now they were heading back to Whitestone with nothing. He turned to look forward over the head of his horse, hoping that he would be able to put that twisted realm of the undead out of his mind. He looked up to Sir Hilton at the head of the line of horses and wondered where he would take them next.
The ride out of the hills into Rothley was quiet, and there they spoke to a few locals in the Rolling Boulder. It seems a miner named Albert had claimed to see the skeletons on top of the wall four or five weeks before, indicating it was not a recent development. The locals didn't believe it at the time, but seeing this group coming into the village and making the same claims might sway their minds.
In the hazy morning, as they were packing up the horses, Sir Hilton made an announcement. He said that he is married, and he really just came to compete in a tournament. He looked like he was both scared of what happened and disappointed at their failure. He just didn't have the heart for it, and he was going home to Highspire. He said that the group would be fine without him, with the honor of the paladin, the passion of the swashbuckler, the talents of the lady, the brilliance of the quiet one, and the judgment of the priest, especially to simply report they found nothing. He told them to give the news to Brother Tosk of the Temple of the Intrepid Blade (temple of Maeles in Whitestone). He then rode off into the morning fog, slouching over his horse like a withered rose.
It was difficult not keep in mind words spoken by King Rexton Firas after the tournament, "They tell me that this was foretold, and so was our protector... The priests told me the Champion of the Red Rose is destined to defeat this new evil. So long as your heart is strong, we will be unharmed. Your courage will protect us..." His heart had been weak, and his courage failed.
Not yet willing to admit defeat, the heroes asked the soldiers about Jover Hill keep when they arrived in Barnwell. Captain Travnor was able to tell them that it had not been occupied by forces of Whitestone for 25-30 years, but he couldn't say who might have occupied it since then. Armies aren't too happy to abandon keeps, but there are too many keeps and not enough warriors. He believed the keep had first been established during the expansion of the Borden empire, which could have made it 350 years old, but it probably started as a simple wooden fort.
On the sixth day of Autumn's Rise, the party returned to Whitestone. They made their way to the large Temple of the Intrepid Sword, made of red and grey stone, and asked to speak to Brother Tosk. Tosk Lansa is in his forties, showing gray hair, and he proudly displays his wrought iron hold symbol of a sword over a shield. It turns out that Brother Tosk also has a bit of a temper, and he was extremely unhappy to learn of Sir Hilton's failures. He was not entirely surprised to learn the godstone wasn't there, but it was still upsetting. In a sort of shouting rage, Brother Tosk revealed that no, this was not foretold. Bards and people from all over had just witnessed phantasms appear, and something needed to be said. There had been phantasms appearing recently, but it was not widely known (though it was widely rumored). This was now undeniable. The gods were unable to say what was happening, and a few priests between the temples had done research to determine that a godstone may be able to help. Further, they had some reason to believe that there may be one in Jover Hill keep. What else were they to do? On the spot, they told the king to say that this was foretold, and so was the hero. Of course, Tosk found it very inconvenient that Sir Hilton had won instead of Sir Alden Cairns, but no one would believe the hero of destiny was the man who finished second.
In some combination of anger and fear, the Brother Tosk told the party to stay together and tell anyone who asked that they were on a quest for Sir Hilton. He even suggested that the swashbuckler don some armor that looked like his and ride into a few populated areas so people could see him. Tosk said he would speak to Sir Hilton, and in the meantime they could exchange messages through the temples. He also gave them a note that had been left for them by a druid.
The note read "Friends, I heard you may come here. If you are able, please meet me in the elm grove near the top of the waterfall on the Lorn river, about 50 miles south of Clansea. -Garek."
Brother Eisen Drist informed the others about how the messages through temples work even though no one thought to ask. The temples of the majors gods have a flame, monitored by acolytes. The flames come from a single fire for each temple, passed from temple to temple. The flame must be continuous, and it must be blessed by the priests. A message of up to about 50 words is written on paper, and the acolytes pray over it as they burn it. For about a minute, the words will appear in the flames in all the temples. For example, a message burned in the Temple of the Intrepid Blade will appear in the Temple of the Hurled Axe, the Temple of the Battered Shield, and others. Even though it is contained within a given god's temples, codes are often used for sensitive information. The first word usually indicates what specific temple is intended. For most people, it costs about 30gp to send a message, and that includes delivering the message to someone near the appropriate temple.
The next day, the party reflected on all that they had learned and trained for whatever was coming next. Sir Alestair also had armor fitted to him, and Renee acquired a perfectly balanced new rapier that he named for a disappointed young women, Leana.
The journey to see Garek included a stop at the Dancing Dryads in Cobblersburg. This walled town sat in a quiet dell, and it seemed very peaceful. It might be a nice place to retire. For now, however, they had to press on to High Mangston, the seat of Duke Warren Kespot. The plan was to pass through here, but screams from a central square caught their attention. It was another phantasm, and this of a hanging. The square was empty of the living except those on the edges whose curiosity overpowered their fear. In the center was a gallows with a man to be hanged and his executioner. A few feet in front of the gallows was a woman, and tears fell down her face. The man and woman stared at each other until a hood was placed over his head. Just after he dropped, she fell to her knees and sobbed. Though this heartbreak was something no one wants to see, it seemed as though the sorrow reached further. It was nearly tangible.
Seeking to learn more, Brenaed made fast friends with an old man named Pete in the Lost Caravan. He said that was Linder and Abigail Groftin. He was a hauler, and they accused him of plotting to kill the old duke. They said the assassin came in on his wagon, and he must have known. Linder said he was innocent, but he was hanged anyway. Abigail was pregnant at the time, and she died about ten years ago. Pete said the son was Holsten Groftin, and he lived in town.
The party went off to meet with Holsten. He was married with a daughter. The daughter was intrigued by the frost elf's hair and spoke as ten year old girls do. Holsten was quite surprised to hear of the phantasm. People had seen them before, but not inside the city. He said that the only strange thing is that it happened exactly 44 years ago. The party left, continuing their journey towards Lorris, but Holsten took his wife and daughter outside the city and to an old oak tree where there two small stones sat quietly in the shade. He told his daughter the stories his mother told him. This was where she and Linder would meet. This became their special place where they could get away from everyone in the shade of the tree. After he was hanged, Abigail had him buried here, and she had asked Holsten to bury her next to him when his time came. His daughter would never know his parents, but at least she could see where they were buried and know something of how they had lived.
The party, meanwhile, was on the road to Tollisville. This was a well-fortified town with manned gates. It is not the happiest of towns, but Lorris is not generally a happy place. The party chose the Goose and Grapes. It seems the original goose had become dinner when the owner was a girl, but they still had wine.
Farayne, on the other hand, was no longer a town. It had been burned, though assuredly something lived inside. The party skimmed the edges.
Rathven is the capital of Lorris, though its power does not extend far beyond its own boundaries. The walls were massive, though it appears the old walls have been repaired in many places. The people here remember the Siege of Rathven like it happened in their own lifetimes. It happened in 249 (it is currently 384), and it the real turning point in the war for independence from Borden. Rathven held until forces could arrive, including elves from Orinsard. An older fellow in the Dead Emperor seemed confused that Livid was neither an Orinsard elf nor a wild elf. It seemed he eventually decided that being a not wild elf was sufficient. The locals here see phantasms here frequently up on the walls, perhaps every week or two.
On the road to Briston, the party encountered bandits. They were primarily archers, and there was a great ruckus involving people who do not understand that you cannot shoot through horses and that arrows arc through the air. Brenaed put a bandit to sleep, which made him the key target. Things would have gone well for the bandits if it weren't for the other members of the party. Ultimately, they were all either put to sleep or rendered unconscious. Then there was a great morality debate because some people are assholes. How is good defined? By a universal absolute? Or by the local society? Or by the society of the person in question? In the end, it was decided these people could be brought into Briston and handed over to the authorities. Conveniently, in a nation overrun with bandits, there is a bounty for them. The party was awarded 2gp for each bandit. They booked rooms at the Silver Chalice and made it known that they brought in the bandits.
They expect to head out of Briston on the 25th day of Autumn's Rise. The weather is getting a little cooler.
Note: This was going through my head while talking to Livid about what kind of elf she was.
http://s293.photobucket.com/user/ladies ... e.mp4.html
