OOC: DM, would it still be possible for Elorfindar to do something during the day (i.e. before dinner), so to speak? In that case, Elorfindar would cast idea in the morning, to see whether the spell can give him a clue regarding the circumstances regarding the group's (re)assembly.

"I assume we could speak with him before our next visit to the ruins, but since Talathel home is our priority it seems that deeper digging into the area can wait." explained Dorian.

"A day of rest seems appropriate.  I like the land here.  Tomorrow I plan on wandering about the countryside."

"Would you mind some company?  It'd bring back memories to walk lonely miles with another member of the Greycloak Companies."  Corym smiles thoughtfully, but with the bittersweetness of comrades lost and perils tested.

"If you wish, Corym.  I warn you ahead of time.  I wander far and wide." said Dorian.

"I remember well. Since my service I’ve been bound up with more cumbersome companies—wagons and equipment and campaign tents. To run the plains freely with one equally accustomed to doing so will be a joy. The Ildrouns May have originally come from the shadowed forest of Cormanthor, but I was raised and matured in the windswept Greycloaks!  I like this country well."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:26, Mon 15 Apr 2019.

The Next Morning

After another excellent evening meal at the Undercellar, you retire to your rooms in the Dark Door for the night. They remain as comfortable, and sturdy, as the first night. Despite the height of the building you have the feeling that it would take a major earthquake, or determined dragonfire, to bring it down.

Corym and Dorian meet up early for a quick dawnfry before setting out. A thick mist has settled into the ravine, filling it up past the first floors of the buildings. Cold, clammy fingers run their hands across your faces as you head for the edge of town, reminding you that winter is almost upon you. The cobbles are slick, and the sun, once you get out of the fog, is obscured behind a phalanx of clouds. But it's not raining, and the wind, while cold, isn't particularly strong. As good a day for a walk as you're going to get at this time of year.

The rest of you rise at a more sensible hour and slowly make your way to the inn's common room where morningfeast has been laid. As you're just finishing Krackor comes staggering out of the tunnel to the dwarven rooms; his long rest finally broken. He looks famished.

((ooc: Congrats, Krackor, you're awake again!

Corym and Dorian, are you heading anywhere in particular? Feel free to start chatting.))

In reply to DM (msg # 354):

He didn't remember getting transported back home, back to the cave and tunnels. this can't be right he thought to himself, then his stomach rumbled like the mountains complaining after a thaw. I'm so hungry He heard the words spoken but hadn't realised he was saying them out loud.

Before anything else, the priest of Gorm said some morning prayers then, straightening himself up, Krackor went out into the nain room. The others hwar him before seeing him as he hummed the tune Dorian had been singing on entry to Glen.

Hi cheery consternounce brought light to the shadows. Good morning everyone, what you all been up to? he then scanned the room as he does every room, signs of othwr having been there and then left, no sign of Dorian or Corym.

Where are Corym and Dorian, they found some leads?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:13, Mon 15 Apr 2019.

"The elf's 'er out walking about. Least that's what they said with eveningfest last night. We've got some good headway while yer've been asleep. Think we might head out tomorrow fer Deepindale." Katarn said without looked up from his breakfast.

A few more bites and he looked up to the others, "s'this place bother anyone else? Corym said last night he liked it. Kinda creeps me out seein' a whole community o' dwarves livin' topside like this. 'N lettin' a beardless lad run the dry goods store. Might as well be a bonch o' halflings... I mean, they're friendly like, but... its just a bit weird."

Corym runs silently with Dorian through the plains of Mistledale, leaving Glen behind.

"I hope you know that I'm a true and loyal son of Evereska, Dorian.  You and I, we've spilled and shed blood on the Greycloaks garbed in the colors of Our People.  That means something very important to me.  It means I trust you.  I like and admire Elorfindar, but he and I--we don't have this.  In the Greycloaks I'd have laid my life down for you, or you for me without either of us ever having had met.  If you'll be my fellow again, I won't let a matter money prevent your union with us."

Corym pauses a bit to let Dorian respond.

"Our People mince words--I tend not to.  Implications, secrets, overtures--dangerous variables that get people killed. I design buildings and machines and spells.  Ignorance in these areas equates failures.  Secrets weaken a communal endeavor.  I keep secrets from those I think bear me ill will or those whom I bear ill will. I don't bear you any ill will, and I don't think you mean so to me."

It's clear that Corym is unburdening himself, and that he's leading somewhere within the conversation.  But he stops for a time to see how his words are received.

((I'd like to do this a bit more organically, but PbP tends to stretch out convos like that to absurd degrees.  I'm trying to monologue a bit and then give some time to respond so we can get under way and back to adventure. Sorry if that comes of wordy or self-important.))
This message was last edited by the player at 03:04, Tue 16 Apr 2019.

Elorfindar

You clear your mind, listening to the wind blowing through the open window of your room. The distractions of the last month, of surprise and danger and the drudgery of travel fall away. Breathing in and out slowly, you focus your thoughts on your last moments in Waterdeep and your first moments in Myth Drannor, and cast your spell.

The soft rustling of paper clatters against your ears. The smell of old leather fills your nostrils. And you remember reading a book years ago, when you were still a novice in Labelas's temple. It was a modern copy of a travel diary an Evereskan merchant had written upon returning to the Vale from a trip to Myth Drannor almost two centuries before the Fall. One passage shines clearly before you.

"For a city hailed in song and story as the hub of elvendom, the grand square from which silver paths lead to every realm and every space between the stars, gates are surprisingly hard to find in Myth Drannor. Every person one speaks to swears with a wink and a nod that they know the location of one, and that their friends surely know more. And yet they become as tight as a southern clam when gold is offered and their bluff call.

"Only two gates are known to all: the Silversgate to Silverymoon in old Cormanthor, and the Honorsgate to the Forest of Mir in southern Kerradunath. Each is a massive free-standing arch, so heavily enchanted the air hums four strides away. The armathors who stand guard joke that not even shattering them could fully break their power. As no one knows how many drow infest the Forest of Mir, I hope that is only a joke."

As the pair of Elves moved out across the fields and into the hills once again an almost palpable change came upon Dorian, more guarded, less carefree -more predator than minstrel.  As the beauty of the Vale opened up before them and Lathander's Sun broke the horizon the feral aspect vanished.  Dorian laughed and pointed as the cascade of colors blanketed the valley.  It was as if he were seeing sunrise for the first time.

Dorian listened to Corym speak "I have no reason to suspect that you are anything less than a true son of Evereska, Corym.  Nor would I expect any less of any Greycloak, as you say."

"You will find that I am unconcerned with money and such a thing does not, and would not stand between me or my friendships.  I am unwilling to be indebted to anyone, if it can be helped, for I take such things very seriously."

"I sense that this matter is important to you, more so than I.  I assure you that I am committed to a return to Myth Drannor and to your company.  If and when I can enter into your compact without being a burden, I will."  Dorian reflected for a moment and continued "If it is eases your mind, consider that I would wish to prove myself worthy of you and your friends' company and that buying into it is an honor for me and the others."

Dorian listens as Corym continues

"We are very different people, friend Corym, who have served Evereska in different ways.  You seek and expose the truth.  My fate has been different, I walk in shadows and lies; wearing many masks to hunt down and expose the enemies of the People.  I have done so for so long that I sometimes lose who I was... am."

Dorian smiled "I know you already know this, I'm sure.  If not from your own memory, but from Elorfindar who knows me by my birth name in younger, happier days."

"The name Dorian is another mask, not to deceive per se, but to protect those who I love for I have made, and will continue to make, enemies of those who threaten our homeland.  When they strike, they strike at Dorian alone and not at those who he holds dear."

"Does this ease your mind?" 

((OOC: Yeah, no worries.  I did the same.))

In reply to Katarn (msg # 356):

Seeing the expressions on those at the breakfast table and hearing Katarn's take on the town, Krackor found it amusing.

Friend Katarn, our people have learnt to live on the surface in many places, outside citadels, my own home hold and the Great Rift. This place shows a way forward, a way for the people to prosper, just as The Lord of the Bronze Mask teaches.

There must be a temple or a shrine somewhere around here, if not, maybe this is why we were brought this way! I shall take a walk, later, first everyone in the inn probably hears his stomach rumble it is that loud I must eat.

"Still odd. At least the Great Rift is great!" Katarn grumbled for a second, then shook his head, "no temples. They've a shrine to Moradin at the head forger's smithy 'n one to Dumathoin, but no Keeper's o' th' shield among 'em."

"I fer one am happy ta set up a shrine to the Finder of Trails, but I'm not gonna likely be settin' up a temple here. Leastways, not unless our ventures to Myth Drannor are more profitable than I can well imagine. But yeh, go stuff yer belly. Ye've slept enough."

In reply to Dorian (msg # 359):



"So long as you know that I'd be willing to go your stake for you.  Pride is good, and so is proving your worth. I didn't want you to feel that the matter sat between us.  It is apart from us." 



Corym laughs--"You must be kidding!  I pose routinely as a dealer of illicit elven antiques in order to lure human wizards into my grasp that have stolen our spells and Art.  It's the entire purpose for our Order--the recovery of elven magics plundered by enemies of the People. I have frequently had to pose as a blood-traitor and endure the derision of Our People while I worked for their benefit!"

"It is for this purpose that the truth and clarity is the more important for me--because it is so rare.  For you to know me, as me, that's important!"

"The Dreams of the Ancients is really a blurring--a blending--of who I seem and who I am.  My father was a high member in the Fellowship of the Forgotten Flower, and in a sense this is a continuation of his work.  We pass the important things back to the People, and sell the irrelevant to the humans.  It makes it seem that I'm able to be bought, and that I might be willing to sell more, which lets me find the sorts of people that would plunder our heritage.

"More than anything, that human band heading to Myth Drannor makes me think that the Knaves might need to establish a full time outpost!  This is where the work is to be done!"



"It does.  I knew your name of my own recollection. We'd never met, but your blood was recognized, and your standing in the academy was prized.  You pay attention more closely to what goes on inside that place when they won't let you in!"  He grins roguishly. "I didn't know whether you didn't trust us, or if you wore masks like I do.  Elorfindar and I spoke and concurred, but we've had little opportunity since.  If your mask was like mine, I didn't want to disturb it in front of N'Tel Quess."

Corym continues their journey exhibiting remarkable capacity for stealth, speed, and awareness.  He'll follow Dorian's lead for the rest of the day, in speaking or in silence.  The lifting of masks can be exhausting.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:00, Wed 17 Apr 2019.

Dorian shared in Corym's laugh at his own expense "In truth, I know little of your Order or even much of the inner workings of Evereska, outside of my family's personal concerns.  Protecting our borders and seeing the world outside, learning of it, it's people and cultures has been my interest." 

"Since we have laid aside masks, I will ask you a question.  You and your fellows were in different locations, but were pulled to Myth Drannor.  Some of us others are strangers -presumed strangers.  But it seems hard to believe that you and your fellows do not have a suspicion of why we were pulled together.  Perhaps you suspect that one of us newcomers is a spy?"

"Surely there is more going on here than mere happenstance." 

"I honestly think it was the work of my patron, the Fey Jester.  It's just too random to be anything else."

Corym considers how best to explain his thoughts.

"We come from different walks, you and I. I am the danger and manipulator in my life. Because I act, others react.  You swirl in a more intriguing game of mutual manipulation.  Both dangerous, but subtlety different."

"Who would be manipulating me?  Or a gnome of seeming no reknown?  Or a pair of wandering dwarves?  What single interest could conceive of the combination?

"Moreover that interest would have to originate from within Myth Drannor itself--but to do so and then not set upon us at the moment of arrival?  If it was a malicious interest, then it's an incompetent one.

"And that's not to say that there's not interests in Myth Drannor--that ruin seems like a self-sustaining ecology with some Blood War spill-over from the lower Realms. But those have been there since the fall.  How would they known of us, and why have interest in us?

"No--given the context of recent events, I think we're gathered to secure the Treasures of the People against their foes.  Consider--the Elven Court has fallen and no longer guards Myth Drannor.  The Retreat means a desperate moment for our people.  They turn their backs on the greatest treasure of our people.  Who is summoned then to the great treasure?  Three scions of Evereska, which has not heeded the call to Flee. Who shall accompany them--a gnome specializing in stealth, a dwarf specializing in watchfulness in a place where we need watchfulness, and a dwarf that can turn invisible and specializes in guiding people home. Utterly random, and completely poetic.  "

"Erevan Ilesere. The Fey Jester."

"Erevan Ilesere?" Dorian raised an eyebrow "Perhaps that is possible, but we must consider other options.  With just a small bit of digging we discovered that you have at least a passing connection to Sirenya and to me.  I'm sure with more discussion that there is some connection between Katarn and one of your group.  Whether that knowledge leads to answers is unknown, but it puts us on path to learn Truth."

Dorian walked and thought for a moment "I will concede that it is possible that whatever brought us together may not be malevolent, and may perhaps be beneficial, though unseen.  In either case, mysteries such as this must be uncovered.  To leave such a thing unresolved and unquestioned is foolish because it may cause our undoing.  Especially if we are to return to the place of our misadventure."

OCC: Unless there's something else to speak about we can return to Vale at your leisure.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:07, Wed 17 Apr 2019.

"Unquestioned is indeed foolish.  I just don't see a viable alternative within the spectrum of our knowledge. Equally foolish would be to ignore the opportunities that abound.  If there's a trap, they will lie in the opportunities. How else would they ensnare us?  Fortunately, our success also lies in the opportunities, and so for weal or woe it is there we must go. A trap isn't one if you know it is.  Not to you."

I'm good.

In reply to Katarn (msg # 361):

Between mouthfuls of food and drink, which Krackor ate with gusto.
No shrine or temple! Not even a sacred place to guard? Strange indeed.

As you say, we will be moving from here soon enough, a base for our travels to the fabled ruins maybe, I'm sure people have looked around, I shall see what I shall see.

Sirenya, have the animals told you anything about this place? He didn't know what type of druid or ranger the smallest of the group was, it didn't really matter to him, she had her ways and they enhanced the group and he hoped, that the group helped enhance her too.

Hearing her name, Sirenya looked alertly back to those at the table, then frowned as she considered Krackor's question. "I haven't seen any," she answered. "Not the animals I talk with, anyway. I just wandered around town yesterday -- there's no jewelers here, isn't that odd? Or I guess maybe it's not, for dwarves, but you'd never find a gnomish community this big without at least a couple jewelers. Probably more than a couple. And while there's probably some mice in town, mostly they'll be hiding inside during the daytime, avoiding cats and people. Mice aren't the best sources of information, anyway, not unless you're really specific, because most of them don't think about much beyond food, if they're not fretting over predators."

She sighed, looking forlornly off toward the door and thinking of the fields beyond the town. "I'm not even sure there's badgers and ground hogs or even wolverines out here," she continued a bit absently. "I was looking for them all along the road and never saw any sign of them -- just rabbits and ground squirrels, and rabbits sometimes think their own shadow is out to get them, so they're not real reliable sources, you know? Ground squirrels are almost as bad as mice when it comes to getting clear information, and you have to be prepared to bribe them, because sometimes they won't hang out to talk long enough to be useful, not unless you make it worth the time to stop foraging. And then you've got to be careful if it's near your camp, because they're greedy, and will try to steal more when you're not looking."

Picking up her nearly empty mug, she gave small, unhappy shrug and added, "It's really been rather creepy traveling here. Forest floors aren't usually so bereft."

In reply to Sirenya (msg # 368):

No animals! Uuummm
There may be a chance that the jewelers is back into a hill and this dell is too cold for the smaller animals. I'll ask whilst walking around. I would have thought the Halflings may have been a good source of information, like the one that we saw as we approached Glen!

Had anyone even spoken to the local watch or town crier? He'd find out, right now he needed to think and finish his second helping of breakfast.

((ooc: No, no one has tried to find the town watch. The folks who were out walking around didn't see anyone obviously Watch-like, either. Most of the dwarves are walking around armed, but there weren't any uniforms or anything else blatant like that.))

"I can try that," Sirenya perked up. Halflings would likely be more alert to the identity of other animals. "I'll walk out beyond the farms today." The town was fair enough, but rather dull for her -- no surprise with all the dwarves -- and if there were farms, there ought to be weasels, at the very least, slinking about.

She set to finishing off the rest of her breakfast, eager to get started.

"I kin go with ye Sirenya if  ye'll have me. I could use tha' stretch o' me legs and such. be good ta see more o' the town too." Katarn said to her as she wolfed down her breakfast.

((ooc: Sirenya, are you going in any particular direction or looking for anything in particular on your walk?))