"Indeed, it is as Tarron says.  Our ventures have met with success, and we were eager again for your company Lady. How have your visits with Neldor progressed? Is the Sage well?"

Talindra

"I... suppose? Talindra's gaze drifts off of you and she rotates a bit to stare at the door jam over your shoulder. "We talked. I... think we talked." Rotating most of the way back towards you, she asks, "Did we talk?"

Neldor

When Corym sets the five books on the counter, Neldor's eyes narrow. As Corym speaks, Neldor's mouth tightens, and his cheeks flush. "That's it?" he demands. "You were in the Imbran vault with the Imbran ward token to retrieve Imbran lore and you bring me this?" The words degenerate into an angry hiss. "'Disputations on the Ecology of the Borderlands?"'

Neldor's hands chop through the air, and suddenly Corym's packs and pouches explode. Every item from the Imbran vault is sucked outward into the air, flying across to pile on the counter. The cloak he's wearing jerks his head backward as it is yanked free; the elven chain seems to liquify, only to flow across the floor, up the counter, and then resolidify.

Neldor glares down at the accumulated items. Then he looks up, and that molten stare transfixes Corym. "I sent you to recover my family's knowledge, the history and lore gathered all the way back to the days when the Elven Court was still a dream of peace-loving priests. You brought me toys. I thought better of you, an elf and a wizard."

With a wave of his hand, Neldor recalls the Imbran wardstone. It twinkles in the air and vanishes before it reaches him. Then he picks up the luckblade and tosses it to Corym. "I will not punish Talindra for your greed. But as for you, we are done. I never want to see you again. Now get out." When Corym hesitates, Neldor summons his power, and his shout rattles the walls.

"OUT!!!

Corym weeps openly as he flees the archmage suddenly feeling like a figure from one of Kitheras' tragic fairy tales. His shame burns his eyes as he tears through the night to their accommodations.

Bursting into the door, absent the chain mail he'd proudly worn, his bag and pouches emptied he thrusts the sword at Kitheras. "All gone, and us forsaken. I am in no state for making wishes.  Do your best. Restore the lady."

Kitheras looks shocked, accepts the blade, but is speechless.

Bardic knowledge check for advice on wishes?

Kitheras will scribble down a few phrasings of wishes.

"I wish that Talindra Braegen be restored to the life, health, and sanity that she enjoyed just prior to the fall of Myth Drannor."

"I wish that Talindra Braegen be restored to the full health and vigor she had before her undeath."

"I wish that Talindra Braegen be restored."


Varying degrees of specificity and simplicity.  "Give these a look.  Which is most likely to produce the desired result?"

What the hell just happened?
This message was last edited by the player at 04:28, Wed 18 May 2022.

((ooc: Either of the first two would probably work. You might want to reword slightly so she doesn't lose memories of things that happened after undeath, but that's a minor concern.))

PAUSED PENDING OOC DISCUSSION



The second seems closest to that, "I wish that Talindra Braegen be restored to the full health and vigor she had before her undeath while retaining her memories up to this day."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:09, Wed 18 May 2022.

"You could always wish that you were back in the tower making all those decisions again." suggests Tarron, not wise to the ways of chronomancy...

Anguished and through gnashing teeth, Corym’s intellect quickly wraps around the proposition. “Even if it worked, the wish in the past would be gone and we would have suffered an even more grievous failure. In restoring Talindra we preserve our honor if not our fortunes and reputations. Do it, Kitheras. “

Kitheras would like to wait for Kali and Krackor, but this night was getting dodgy. *what the hell happened!* Best to get it done.

Kitheras makes the wish, as described above.

Having stayed dry whilst everyone else got wet, Krackor was able to keep the cheer, mostly. Even now in Glen when the weight of the trip had gone and tiredness was ready to catch up, he kept his cheer.

Nodding to the Head men, Krackor did bid Kali sit before him so drinks can be ordered and he could show that weariness was not upon them.

Honoured leaders of Glen, we are great full for your welcome. Our adventures were dangerous, almost deadly and long, very long. I struggled to keep up with my friend here, Kali, she has strong long legs and no matter how much I tried, in the Forests it was hard to keep up whilst not holding the others of our company back. Yes we met a Dragon that Kali here overcame but that is her tale to tell. Our hope is that we retrieved what was requested. We had little in the way of instructive information, so we did what we could.

Corym and Kora are with the venerable Neldor as we speak.

How has Glen been and my request for a secluded Temple?

Glen was maybe a bit too insular but that would also serve a temple to Gorm well, as it wouldn't attract too many non-Dwarven peoples to it, or so he hoped.

Tarron

Tarron nods at Corym's words. He leaves the others to their own devices, his mind racing. He cannot believe that Corym had failed them in the library, but in faulting Corym he realises that the blame didn't lie solely on him. As a unit, he would have ensured that each member knew the goal. As a leader, he would have checked if the mission priorities had been achieved. But more importantly, a true leader and commander would have set clear and specific instructions. Something which Neldor had clearly failed in.

He wasn't about to take things lying down. Not when he had already turned from a life of drink to a path of redemption. The door closed gently as he left the others with the luckblade. He was on the hunt for Neldor.

Slipping through the soaked streets, his hood up against the downpour, Tarron makes his way over to Neldor's shop. He'd never been there, but Glen is a small town and the way had been described to him. He finds the shop, another tall and narrow building that reaches up to the lip of the ravine like the one that had been made available to his group. The shutters are all shut, and there is no light coming from any of the windows.

Tarron tries the door, only to find it locked. Speeding through a detect magic spell, he stares and the door, and the unmistakable sign of a wizard lock spell. Hesitating for a moment, he looks around for another entrance, but the house is like most dwarven construction: sturdy and defensible, without any obvious weak points. Tarron knocks on the door, but there is no response.

Not wanting to break and enter, Tarron stepped a little closer to the door to see if he could hear any movement or sounds within. "Sir. If we could talk?" he calls out, loudly.

The building is silent. No one answers his call, save for the rain pouring down upon him.

Frustrated, Tarron curses under his breath. Not that anybody can hear him of course. He hadn't wanted to break in, but right now he had no patience for waiting. What needed to be said had to be said now...

He cast the knock spell upon the door of Neldor's doorway but stood as far back as he could allow. All he wanted was the attention of the mage.

The knock spell washes over the door, and Tarron sees the wizard lock flicker out as the spell is temporarily suppressed. The door remains closed, however.

Tarron kicks open the door, but springs back anyway. He doesn't want to be considered a thief... "Neldor, come now. We need to talk." he calls out loudly.

The door thuds, but does not open. From the feel, it's probably barred on the other side. Fortunately, Tarron holds a number of Knock spells memorized. Realising he needs another casting, Tarron recasts it. The door swings open, revealing a relatively empty room, with a counter built along one wall. On the opposite wall from the entry is another door, which is closed.

Cursing the mage's defenses, Tarron considers his options. He wanted to have this out with Neldor while it was still fresh. The hurt on the face of Corym was evident.

Still, his own actions may be considered rash if he went about things like a bull in a china shop. For the moment, things could wait. Still, it did seem a lot drier inside the shop than it did outside. Tarron entered, and locked the door behind him with the bars. He would wait until the morning and let things simmer for the moment.

"I'll be right outside when you feel right to talk." he calls out, making sure that his presence was well known to avoid a shock. Then he settled down as best he could, hanging his sodden cloak on a peg by the door to dry.

Talindra

Gripping the hilt of the drawn luck blade, Kitheras fastens his gaze on Talindra and clearly says, "I wish that Talindra Braegen be restored to the full health and vigor she had before her undeath while retaining her memories up to this day."

The blade pulses brightly, and the wavy, water pattern in the metal of the blade smooths out, leaving the blade gleaming and unmarked. There is no other visual cue of the magic, but a moment later Talindra gasps. Color floods her grey form, as though someone had doused her in a dozen buckets of paint. The hazy outline of the room behind her disappears as she resolidifies, and her feet drop to the floor with a thud. Her eyes focus and snap to Kitheras's face. "I... I'm alive," she gasps.

Then Talindra collapses, weeping.

Krackor

"A dragon?" Vorn raises an eyebrow at Krackor, then transitions it to Kali. "You'll drink well on that story, since I trust by your tone that we do not need to rush to arms."

The two dwarves exchange glances. "As for a temple... you are very insistent. More human than dwarf, belike. Why should we be interested?"

The sun dawns in Kitheras' breast as he beholds this miracle.  "Indeed, my lady, you are.  Welcome back." A profound sense of pride and gratitude fills him.  As a ranger he had simple tastes and little use for wealth.  How could the loss of antiquities compare with this wonder.

Gently, Kitheras kneels beside Talindra and offers his hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:45, Thu 19 May 2022.

Corym's mind reeled still. This night shook him to his core.  Every inadequacy and inequity he'd suffered in Evereska because of his muddled ancestry was relived in a moment. Denied the Academy and sent to study stone masonry. He had excelled every expectation of his master who promoted him to study engineering.  There he had excelled again, and took up architecture. But no matter how he excelled, there in the background was the Academy--ever denied him.

His father had been a Knight, but he would never more than a Knave. Sentenced to shadow. A slave to the masters of the vale--feeding them lost lore he would never have blood clean enough to study. In Neldor he had found acceptance and sponsorship--a willing teacher and patron. He'd found the mail that marked the noble defenders of the people so long denied him. And in a moment all of it was shattered. Neldor was just another master, and Corym his disappointing slave. Stripped. Bereft. Lashed with words that cut deeper than whips.

There in his darkest night, he glimpsed Talindra weeping. He had done that. He had healed her mind. He had made a promise.  He had found the wish, and he had accomplished the impossible.

He felt like the legend of the god that gave his eye for wisdom or had hung himself for knowledge.

He had ruined himself for love unrequited.

It would have to be enough.

Kitheras had knelt gracefully and lordly. Corym fell to his knees like a condemned man given the opportunity to say one last orison. "You're alivel" his voiced gasped and cracked. His hand gripped at his mouth, and even Corym could not distinguish the tears of despair from those of joy.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Thu 19 May 2022.

I'm sure you may even already have a shrine to the Bronze Mask by your Vault to help protect it. The Temples are to protect the most valuable of Dwarven artefacts and those of any clan, citadel or town. You are well hidden in Glen with many of our kin, making it an ideal place so a secluded Temple, which most temples are. Our intent has been since arriving here, to make a home. Hopefully Corym's conversation with Neldor has gone well and we can prosper too.

If you feel that Glen is not the place, then I accept this and ask that a better Shrine can be created. I defer to you gentlemen. I may be connected well with the Vigilant Host but you are connected well with the feel of Glen

Krackor

"We appreciate that you are willing to defer to us, young man," Vorn says. "Not all of those who are inspired have the courtesy. And while we appreciate your eagerness, I don't think Glen would be the proper place for your temple. Temples tend to attract people, and attention. Glen has a hard enough time providing home and provender for those who are here now."

Talindra

Talindra curls up on the ground, one arm held tightly around herself, the other running her fingers over the carpet again and again. She doesn't seem to respond to either Corym or Kitheras. Instead, she's lost in her mind, awash in sensations for the first time in centuries.

A handfade passes. She doesn't seem to be getting better.

In reply to DM (msg # 452):

He was disappointed, their reasoning was understandable, their understanding of temples to Gorm less so. The temples were known as safe holds, vaults, secure places, this couldn't be do if there were lots of outsiders visiting. Maybe because of the location of Glen being a conduit to the Underdark, their fears were of raids. It was their town though, their home and therefore their choice. Oakhaven would have been ideal and still would, he needed to help the others find a way to traverse such distances, he needed to help Corym.

Krackor had during this last mission, on a few occasions, ask Corym if he is OK, he had been mostly satisfied with the responses but knew something was wrong, something had changed in him since being transported to Myth Drannor.

At the Tower, Corym didn't listen to Krackor's Wisdom, the advice and reassurances he gave, this lead to Krackor being quieter but still tried to cheer people up and be cheery himself. He felt he was losing his friend, part of his family, so he did as he should and kept his duty, when Kali was caught by the Dragon, his heart had dropped, his spirit wavered but the others needed him, a Temple build would have helped, the Headmen didn't say No to enhancing the Shrine, he would make a safe in it and secrete an offering, a relic.

He finished a few drinks, talking casually with the Headmen and Kali, then suggested they take their leave so they can find out the success level of their mission. Secretly he felt he needed to check on Corym, on all of them, his Family, he could see Kali but didn't know her enough, had the ordeal with the Dragon affect her, it certainly seemed like it had taught her something but what?

Kali, I head back to the house now, if you have a mind to do so, I would like to enjoy the walk with you.  He finishes the last of his ale, stands and offers his hand to assist her to stand. Yes he was very tall for a Dwarf but he was still shorter than the lady, would never forget his duty to guard those in his charge, at the moment that meant Kali.

“Talindra? Are you ok?” If she fails to respond, Corym will quietly cast ESP to help get a sense of what’s going on.

Kitheras will begin playing the song for her that he first played to call her attention from the darkness, back in Myth Drannor.

After a brief hesitation, Corym casts his spell. For the first time, ESP actually takes hold, which gives him a sense of relief. Here is another tangible piece of evidence that Talindra is no longer undead.

Her thoughts, however, are a whirlpool. Corym can't make out anything in particular, just that Talindra is overwhelmed. Like someone who had been living underground with no light suddenly being teleported into a surface highsun.

Kora pushes forward. "Alright, that's enough." Pulling Talindra into an upright position, she slaps her hard across the face. Talindra's sobs break off in a hiccuping gasp, and she stares at Kora, wide-eyed and blinking. "Let's get you into bed," Kora continues. "You can do that weird open-eyed things elves do instead of sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

Hooking her arms under Talindra's, Kora gives a heave and pulls the elf to her feet. Kora glances around, looking over Corym before finally landing on Kitheras. "Give me a hand here. There's a bed in her room, but it's dusty. She can sleep in mine tonight."

Kitheras blinks. Stunned. Then looks at Corym.

"What the hell happened to you, are where is all the stuff!?"

Corym relates all that transpired in the tower of the Sage, his tale inflected with uncharacteristic cursing, and too recently characteristic mania.

"It seems unreasonable, I don't know how he came to that conclusion given the vague parameters of the mission. But we failed--I failed--it's all gone, and he wants nothing to do with me.  But Talindra is okay.  The cost is grievous, but Talindra is restored. That has to be enough."

"I think Tarron went to have words with the Sage. I'm going to help Kora."

Kitheras growls.

He cared little for material wealth.  He'd been born to it, so it had never been scarce.  Rangers spurned it as a matter of course.  But this seemed like oath breaking.

"Stay with Talindra.  Prepare to depart rapidly if necessary.  I'm going to catch up with Tarron. A litter may be necessary."

Corym will first find some water and some simple food--Talindra hasn't eaten in hundreds of year!  Kali's finer fare might be hard on a long empty stomach.

When he arrives in the room, he'll take inventory of what's available to make a litter and gather it.  He won't assemble it yet--there might be no need--but the materials will be ready if necessary.

"Thank you for your presence of mind, Kora.  Resurrections can be a dangerous business.  Sometimes the body simply won't accept it. I feared the worse.  Wishes can multiply the complications."

"You could rush to arms, but the fact that she is well on her way home would make the action pointless. She was bound to the dreary place through someone else's will and not her own. The perfectly lovely dragon was also gracious enough not to eat me after knocking me out with her tail.

In retrospect, it was a thing of legend, to be sure. At the time, however, I don't think I have ever been so scared to be eaten in one gulp before. Over the years I have found myself in many terrible and terrifying situations, but nothing on that level.

Thankfully, she was very disinterested in eating me, but was quite happy to eat the food that I cooked for her. Watching a full elk roast over a bonfire as if it was nothing more than a suckling pig was something to behold.

I do hope that she gets back to her misty home rather than hunting for her captor. She deserves to live out the rest of her life feasting on the mists of home and ruminating on the philosophy of frogs versus toads. If you want to know something specific, I am all sorts of willing to regale you of the experience, especially if you are willing to ply such answers with more delicious beverages such as this."

Kali

"Aye, that's a tale that deserves an ale!" Vorn laughs. Waving a hand, he flags down the bartender, who returns soon with a full mug. Once you've had a chance to sample the truly fine ale, Vorn continues. "Frogs and toads, eh? I've seen a dragon or two in my day. Never heard of one interested in frogs! And you cooked for it? You have quite the tale to tell!"

Kitheras

You wrap your cloak tight around you and head out into the rainstorm. Glen can be a bustling place after dark, but on a night like this all sensible dwarves are indoors. You don't see anyone between your house and Neldor's. The building is closed and dark, with no light leaking around the tightly-closed shutters. There also isn't any sign of Tarron.