Yuhren eyes the map, getting his bearings on the landmarks he is familiar with. He notes the distance they have been transported, which causes him a little concern as he's never been so far from his homeland before. As Gaerric talks of the history of this place, Yuhren looks back out the window, taking in the scenery while trying to figure out which direction the vale lies in.
At the thunderous sound echoing through the air, He turns back to look at the mage and the rest of the group. The shuddering of the castle doesn't affect him in the least, his training in the motion of the battlefield allows him to sway slightly with the shuddering and still keep his feet. He reaches out his hand and grabs one of the trinkets that shakes itself off the shelf. Looking down at the rune-carved rodent skull in his hand, he stares at it momentarily and then places it back on its shelf as the first wave of shaking subsides.
Zarja listens as Sir Garric speaks, the cleric seeming to barely blink as the man speaks, so attentive is he. He looks over the map, curious as to their location in the scope of the land. His ears pick up at the mention of ruins; he doesn't know why, but word of the tower triggers his interest. As his eyes continue to rove the map Sir Garric has laid out, Zarja feels the rumble begin to snake its way through the castle.
As soon as the tremor rears its ugly head, Zarja feels his heart skip a beat. In his mind's eye, he witnesses once more the devastation at the wall - men and women being sent flying to their deaths, stone and mortar giving way beneath primeval fury, the light of day turning a sickly grey as madness seizes the world. Steadying himself, Zarja takes a deep breath, telling himself that he cannot allow fear to rule his mind.
Easy, Tirineen. You're of no use to anyone if your knees go weak.
Shrugging off the painful mental images, he waits for the shaking to subside. As he does, he clutches his holy symbol, whispering a prayer to the Protector.
"Great One, if this is part of your will, then I know no fear. I trust in your designs, that all shall be made known in due time."
Turning his gaze to the landscape, Zarja seeks any note of disturbance from the wilderness, unsure of whether anything will cross his notice. His eyes, however, struggle to find anything of use.
"I don't like X, they should remove it." "I like X, they should keep it." "They should replace X with Y." "Anybody that likes X is dumb. Y is better." "Why don't they include both X and Y." "Yeah, everybody can be happy then!" "But I don't like X, they should remove it." "X really needs to be replaced with Y." "But they can include both X and Y." "But I don't like X, they need to remove it." "Remove X, I don't like it."
Until you've had an in-law tell you your choice of game was stupid, and just Warcraft on paper, and dumbed down for dumber players who can't handle a real RPG, you haven't lived.
Lady and gentlemen.... I present to you the Edition War without Contrition, the War of the Web, the Mighty Match-up!
We're using standard edition war rules. No posts of substance. Do not read the other person's posts with comprehension. Make frequent comparison to video games, MMOs, and CCGs. Use the words "fallacy" and "straw man", incorrectly and often. Passive aggressiveness gets you extra points and asking misleading and inflammatory questions is mandatory. If you're getting tired, just declare victory and leave the thread. Wait for the buzzer... and....
One, two, three, four, I declare Edition War Five, six, seven eight, I use the web to
D&D should not return to the days of blindfolding the DM and players. No tips on encounter power? No mention of expected party roles? No true meaning of level due to different level charts or tiered classes? Please, let's not sacrifice clear, helpful rules guidelines in favour of catering to the delicate sensibilities of the few who have problems with the ascetics of anything other than what they are familiar with.
Just a quick note on the MMORPG as an insult comparison...
MMORPGs, raking in money by the dumptruck full. Many options, tons of fans across many audiences, massive resources allocated to development.
TTRPGs, dying product. Squeaking out an existence that relys on low cost. Fans fit primarily into a few small demographics. R&D budgets small, often rushed to market and patched after deployment.
You're not really making much of an argument when you compare something to a MMORPG and assume people think that means bad. Lets face it, they make the money, have the audience and the budget. We here on this board are fans of TTRPGs but lets not try to pretend none of us play MMORPGs.
Something like Tactical Shift is more magical than martial healing.
Telling someone to move over a few feet is magical now? :|
I weep for this generation.
Given the laziness and morbid obsesity amongst D&Ders, being able to convince someone to get on their feet, do some heavy exercise, and use their words to make them be healthier must seem magical.
Insight: Sir Raeven barely seems to register the rumbling and shaking until you start to react. Either he has suddenly grown deaf and numb, or, more likely, the event is such an oft-recurring event that the mage has grown used to it to the point where he does not think twice about it.
Perception: Just when you think there is nothing to see outside, a large shadow slants across the window, appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye, but you are certain it was there. Fortunately the others react to it as well, so you know you're not simply losing your mind.
Sir Raeven looks up in wonder just a fraction to late as the rumbling begins, which Cassilda recognises as more of a surprise as to your reactions as to the strange shaking which has rocked the castle's foundations. Then his lips break into a small smile, and he holds up his hands to soothe any startled minds. "Ah, I am sorry, I should have warned you. Come, you will want to see this." he says, making you wonder what more surprises the man has got in store for you.
He steps away from his desk towards the curtain again, when suddenly a large black shadow flits across your vision. It is gone in a bare moment, but whatever caused that shadow must have been large. Very large. Strangely, Sir Raeven does not respond to this either, simply continuing past the curtain. When you follow, you see he has crossed the other half of the room to a small door set in the wall on the other end, pushing it open to allow the outside air to flood in from both sides. Immediately the wind inside the room picks up, gusts of air pushing and pulling at the curtain and your clothes as they rush from the window to the open door. You hear something falling off the desk or from a cabinet, but Sir Raeven has already stepped outside, the wind likely putting him out of earhot.
The door leads onto a narrow stone stairway leading downwards towards a platform on the roof of another, smaller, tower. Sir Raeven has just reached it when you step outside, and he turns back to look up at you. The wind is stronger outside, and you can hear the Mage's robes snapping as he lifts his arm to point to an area above your heads.
Two stories above the door you just walked through, at the top of the tower, a massive dragon sits clinging to the conical wooden roof with enormous claws. His silvery-green scales glint in the sunlight, and for a moment you wonder if the thing is a statue or an actual living being. Its wings are folded tight against its body, and his majestic head is turned into the wind. He sits almost motionless, eyes closed, the only movement the occasional flick of its tail just above the open window of Sir Raeven's study.
Cassilda relaxes as she notes that Sir Raeven does not even respond to the minor earthquake. If he had looked even remotely concerned she would have ran for the stairs and for whatever exit was nearest, but since he hasn’t she simply tries to maintain her dignity and her footing in the eveningwear shoes she has on.
She instinctively ducks as a large shadow flits by the window. It is gone by the time she snaps her head around to look. Once more their host seems unaware and she cannot help but wryly state, “There seem to be some rather large birds up here.” At least, she hopes they are birds. She sort of laughs, shaking off the fact that she flinched. She is not one of those army officers who is so uptight they cannot even laugh at themselves.
Her thoughts of the bird disappear as the wind from the open door sweeps through the room and she is left to quickly grab at her dress so as to maintain her dignity. She takes one step out, one hand still tightly wrapped around her staff and the other holding her top closed. Her startling violet-blue eyes follow Sir Raeven’s pointing arm up to where, clutching the top of the tower, is a silvery-green dragon. Her mouth drops open in an “O” of surprise and delight. Only when someone nudges her from behind does she move completely out of the doorway with an absentminded “Sorry,” and onto the platform next to Sir Raeven. “He is magnificent.” Her words are filled with awe and she finds herself unable to look away or even blink. She drinks in the sight of the creature, a rare smile lighting her face.
Do NOT meddle in the affairs of dragons; for you are crunchy and go good with ketchup
The hilt of the dagger returns to her palms and Cini Paras feels an unexpected shudder of thanks. She quickly crushes the feeling, but still: she never thought she'd see the knife again. Maps and history hold no interest for her -- Wage always bemoaned her lack of curiosity, so much as they extend past the immediate battleground -- but the dagger... she flips it in her hands, weaving it through the air. It feels like an old friend...
When the castle shakes Espi crouches down instinctively and a recent, familiar fear wells up within her, like the rolling brown of a flood. But Sir Gaerric's lack of worry, and his calm stroll up to the roof does not belie her fears.
The massive creature empties those fears, however, and replaces them with the barest edge of disbelief. "Of course," Espi says with one hand shielding her eyes as she looks up above, "There's a dragon. Why wouldn't you have a dragon?"
But her dry drawl doesn't match the rare and fleeting grin that runs across her lips.
If, on a desert night, a traveler, outside the town of Balic, leaning from the steep slope, without fear of wind or vertigo, looks down in the gathering shadow (in a network of lines that interlace) on the carpet of sand illuminated by the moon around an empty grave, what story down there awaits its end?
Talk of the Cetan Sea emptying and the tower rumbling went in one ear and out the other with Iton. He is still not done processing his death and reutrn to life. The dragon, however, provokes a reaction of sorts. Standing near the door, iton just stares up wordlessly at the great lizard. After a moment, he leans lightly against the wall for support. "I thought I made it out of the afterlife. Now I'm not so sure."he thinks.
Seriously, though, you should check out the PbP Haven. You might also like Real Adventures, IF you're cool.
Knights of W.T.F.- Silver Spur Winner
4enclave, a place where 4e fans can talk 4e in peace.
Yuhren is the last to leave the chamber. He looks at his sword hilt, getting a good look at the gemstone shards set there. As he is walking out with the others, he looks over all the trinkets that lie on the shelves and desk space. He sighs with relief when he doesn't notice anything with a similar coloring on it and continues out the door.
As he walks out the door, he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and giving a small prayer of thanks that he is alive again. Still going through the motions? he chides himself. Better find out what you believe before you go getting killed again Yuhren. Heshkamoketh... Better look more into that as well.
Lost in thought, he almost runs into Iton before he realizes the man has stopped moving. Glancing around at the others, he notices they are all looking up at the roof. Turning, Yuhren is taken aback by the sight. Even more so, when he realizes the tail is moving and the creature is not a statue. Great Protector... So close... he mutters to himself. Again, he finds himself rubbing the scars on his chest absentmindedly. Yuhren quickly crosses the stairs to Lord Gaerric What is his, er her?... name? How long have you known, ummm... it?
Zarja can barely blink as he takes in the form of the dragon. His eyes scan the size of the creature, and his mind is buzzing with the old myths and stories surrounding the dragons. That one should be present here, of all places, comes as quite a shock, but as Zarja focuses his thoughts, he realizes that given the madness and uncertainty of the past couple of days, he knows he should not be so taken aback. A great dragon making itself known is just one more amazing thread to weave into the developing tapestry.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zarja examines their host. In his mind, the priest muses the capabilities of one who could ally himself with a dragon. His thoughts are not suspicious in nature, but the man's curiosity is redoubled with this new revelation. Not only could he intervene in the afterlife; he could even make powerful friends amongst the fabled scaled kings of the skies. A slight smile appears on Zarja's face, and though he returns hia gaze to the magnificent dragon before him, his question is clearly aimed for their host's attention.
"You are certainly full of surprises, aren't you, Sir Raeven?"
"I don't like X, they should remove it." "I like X, they should keep it." "They should replace X with Y." "Anybody that likes X is dumb. Y is better." "Why don't they include both X and Y." "Yeah, everybody can be happy then!" "But I don't like X, they should remove it." "X really needs to be replaced with Y." "But they can include both X and Y." "But I don't like X, they need to remove it." "Remove X, I don't like it."
Until you've had an in-law tell you your choice of game was stupid, and just Warcraft on paper, and dumbed down for dumber players who can't handle a real RPG, you haven't lived.
Lady and gentlemen.... I present to you the Edition War without Contrition, the War of the Web, the Mighty Match-up!
We're using standard edition war rules. No posts of substance. Do not read the other person's posts with comprehension. Make frequent comparison to video games, MMOs, and CCGs. Use the words "fallacy" and "straw man", incorrectly and often. Passive aggressiveness gets you extra points and asking misleading and inflammatory questions is mandatory. If you're getting tired, just declare victory and leave the thread. Wait for the buzzer... and....
One, two, three, four, I declare Edition War Five, six, seven eight, I use the web to
D&D should not return to the days of blindfolding the DM and players. No tips on encounter power? No mention of expected party roles? No true meaning of level due to different level charts or tiered classes? Please, let's not sacrifice clear, helpful rules guidelines in favour of catering to the delicate sensibilities of the few who have problems with the ascetics of anything other than what they are familiar with.
Just a quick note on the MMORPG as an insult comparison...
MMORPGs, raking in money by the dumptruck full. Many options, tons of fans across many audiences, massive resources allocated to development.
TTRPGs, dying product. Squeaking out an existence that relys on low cost. Fans fit primarily into a few small demographics. R&D budgets small, often rushed to market and patched after deployment.
You're not really making much of an argument when you compare something to a MMORPG and assume people think that means bad. Lets face it, they make the money, have the audience and the budget. We here on this board are fans of TTRPGs but lets not try to pretend none of us play MMORPGs.
Something like Tactical Shift is more magical than martial healing.
Telling someone to move over a few feet is magical now? :|
I weep for this generation.
Given the laziness and morbid obsesity amongst D&Ders, being able to convince someone to get on their feet, do some heavy exercise, and use their words to make them be healthier must seem magical.
Cassilda glances over at the host, trying to understand why he would show them such a thing. Dragons are a myth, or so it is believed by most common people. If it got out that there is still one alive, every dragon hunter intent on making a name for himself would come barging up here to try and kill the magnificent beast. She wonders just how intelligent the creature is, drinking in the sight of it while trying to recall every little story she has ever heard or read about dragons. She discards the one where dragons eat every human they come across because they cannot help themselves. With Sir Raeven standing here, it is obvious that is false.
The crystal at the top of her staff catches the light and sprinkles rainbows all around.
Do NOT meddle in the affairs of dragons; for you are crunchy and go good with ketchup
"I do not have a dragon, my lady." Sir Raeven responds to Espi. Where the sparse smiles almost seemed an effort before, now the man cannot help but smile at the sight of this creature. It is obvious that out of everything, he takes the most pride out of this creature. "He is a friend. And I simply call him 'Dragon'," he says, looking at Yuhren, "names are a bit of a foreign concept to dragons, you see. I could have given him a grand name, but he takes no stock in grand names and I know no other dragons, so simply calling him what he is will suffice for both of us. "Do not worry, he will not harm you. Dragons do not eat every human they lay eyes upon, as some stories are fond of mentioning, else you would be in his gullet already. It is upon his back that I carried you to my home."
Sir Raeven pauses for a moment as Myalene appears in the doorway you just came out of. On his arm he carries a tray with goblets and a bottle of wine. With a wave of his hand Sir Raeven motions to the Elf to approach, filling all the goblets before taking one for himself. The Elf distributes the rest among the group. "But we have still not talked about my... mission.. for you. As you have noticed, your armor and weapons are designed to impress, which is vital to my request. I have horses in the stables below, all garbed in appropriate trappings and caparison to your needs. My lord of Bluemantle, for your steed you too will find the horse garb you need. "It is my wish that you compete in the tourney of Saint Murray to achieve his favor. He is in dire need to restore Ulrynth's strength after the crippling disaster at the Vale, so he will award the victor a place among the holy guard. However, you must understand that this is not your fate. In the event that you claim victory over all other contenders, refuse the station as graciously as you are able, so that he and his advisors may utilise your strength and abilities in other matters. My lords and ladies, it is vital that you refuse. Your futures lie elsewhere."
He turns away to look out over the beauty of the land surrounding the castle, seemingly lost in thought. But after a few moments of silence, he adresses you once more, his eyes remaining fixed on the distant forest. "I am afraid you have woken at an inopportune time. Dusk will settle in soon, yet you must feel as if you have just woken. Unless waking from the land of the dead is more exhausting than I know. You have slept for many days, after all, and I unfortunately do not have the experience with being raised from death. It is no matter. The tournament does not start until a few more days, and I must prepare to bring you there. Until then, I would be pleased if you called this your home. "Unfortunately I must act the terrible host and ask that you disturb me as little as possible during this time, teleporting such a large group over a distance of many leagues is a delicate matter. But please, feel free to explore your new home. Myalene and my other servants will aid you where needed." He has turned back to face you towards the end, and Myalene makes a small bow as he is mentioned.
Insight and Perception: As mentioned above, he is proud of his friendship with the dragon, and he also does not want you to get startled every time the dragon roars or lands on the castle. Dungeoneering: Your knowledge of Dragons is pretty much the same as your knowledge is in RL. Only in myths do dragons exist, and nobody really knows anything about them. Of course the characters are more used to seeing strange things, so you're not as surprised as you would be encountering a dragon in RL... However I will not run the standard D&D metallic dragons are good, and red, blue, white etc dragons are evil. This one appears to be good, but that is more circumstantial knowledge because he's befriended with Sir Raeven. The dragon itself sits (e)motionless atop the spire.
Sir Raeven doesn't mention it because he's gracious about it, but the dismissal is implied. Of course that doesn't mean you can't still ask questions and/or simply ignore the dismissal.
Other than that, you've got freedom to do what you want here. Invent new portions of the castle, invent other servants (either human or elven), make conversation with these servants, etc. Myalene (or any other servant) will advise you to delay any trips to the ruin until the morrow, as the road is unlit and treacherous to traverse by night. Those wishing to take their horse, these will not be dressed to impress for now, just simple tack and saddle as will suffice for a short ride.
Unless you desire a change, the room in which you woke up will serve as your sleeping quarters. Also, as promised, new clothes will be ready by next morning. Additional ones can be tailored free of charge.
Aaand, I think that covers it! Oh, you can find a picture of the castle (as seen from the ruin) here.
