Minather looks at the shard, examining it carefully. He takes off his locket and as he holds it close the shard, he opens it. The glow, previous a pure white, is now a rainbow of colors. He smiles, nods to Father Michael in thanks, and pockets the shard. He closes the locket and says to Michael Well, I'm in. When do we leave? And more importantly, what can you tell us now about the road ahead?
((Fathom, did you happen to mean "now" instead of "know" up there? Also, I'm gonna send you a PM about my character's RP items to assist you in providing stuff for my character. Also because I'd like to keep it relatively secret from everyone else. ))
Father Michael nods at Minather. He then turns and addresses everyone.
"NOW! It's no sense talking about the road ahead until we've had something to eat."
The claps his hands together.
The room comes to live. The couches walk out of the room and in walk tables and chairs. The coat rack comes to life and hangs the coats on hooks that seem to grow out of the wall as if to say "hold this while I get the food." It goes out of the room returning with a wooden plate on each hook. It then sets the plate at each individual place setting. It then makes several trips, each one carrying a separate piece of the setting. The chairs form out of the floor, looking like stumps with soft mushroom heads. The coat rack handles the rest of the details and then returns to the corner, retrieving the coats from the hooks in the wall. The hooks recede into the wall and return to a smooth surface.
The setting is grand. There are many dishes including roasted venison, whole fruit, a large salad, pastas, mushrooms, A pitcher of ale and one for water.
Father Michael gestures toward the chairs.
"Please, sit and eat. It may be the last decent meal you have for the next couple of days." He smiles and takes a seat at the head of table. The "chair" sprouts tiny root like legs and pull him closer to the table.
Jeremiah 20:9-But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.
Kratimos takes his seat at the table. He's famished and haven't had a good meal for quite some time. A bit of everything makes its way to his plate, but he makes sure and smells the ale to check if it isn't more of that druidic wine. After verifying, he pours himself some more.
The flavors from the food dance on his palate. Each item explodes in flavor. He has no idea how he appears to others around him, or even what they are doing; he's too preoccupied with the food.
Minather sits down almost immediately. The food tastes good to him, though food is not on his mind. He thinks of things beyond the knowledge of most people in the room; except, perhaps, for Father Michael.
After having some wine, he begins to loosen up. He hums a small tune to himself. Absentmindedly, he pulls out his scroll and stares at it casually for a bit before putting it back. He asks Guy So, a Paladin, huh? What order do you serve? Or am I getting confused with some other holy profession?
((I'll make up an order and if there's already one in game you'd rather I use, fathom, I'll go back and edit.))
Guy looks up at Minather as he takes his seat. "I am of the Order of the White Rose, sir. It is not a true knightly order, as I have not been knighted I would be ineligible to join if it were, but it is rather more like a subset of our religious structure."
He relaxes into his seat and begins fixing himself a plate. He's quite famished, but years of conditioning and teaching keep him within acceptable table manners. "And you, sir? I notice you seem to have some connection to the arcane. Are there orders of a sort among your people as well?"
CrimsonRose takes a seat and tries everything but passes on the mushrooms, she recalls breaking out in a rash in her childhood and has been weary of them since. The food is delicious but the magic animating these objects totally blows her away. Finally her curiosity gets the best of her and she asks "How do these objects move and think on their own? Is this some sort of magic or incantation? Can all wizards do this? If so Father Michael you'll either have to help me set up my house to cook and clean for me or I'll have to marry myself a wizard." She gazes at Father Michael and Minather for their reactions and eagerly awaits their response.
Seeing the Fighter take to his food with much zeal, Father Michael digs in, though with less enthusiasm.
After hearing from the Paladin he stares into his plate, deep in contemplation.
"White Rose...." He mumbles quietly to himself
Upon hearing Crimson, he snaps out of it. His smile returns.
"Yes the magic here is deep but no wizard spell my dear. This is all druidic magic. Each of these wonderful items is actually an obedient creature. You see, the very room itself has a life of its own. The tree allows me to live within it because it desires me to do so. I am no wizard, but I have some very powerful friends who care for my well being."
Soon after his features take on a more serious tone instead of the usual joyful expression that he wears. He wipes his mouth and begins to speak.
"This darkness is a familiar one to me. It's a beast that I had to vanquish before. Then, I was a younger man, though make no mistake there is life within these bones yet." He takes a bit chews it and finishes.
Father Michael outlines his previous encounter with the present darkness. ((See the setting outline))
Some moments later.....
"This time, they are back and with greater fervor. Before, they were driven by a madman bent on as much destruction as he could muster. Now, this darkness is being led by their king. A great and terrible lich who's military strategy has yet to find it's better. They are much more organized. The greater and more intelligent undead seem to operate as generals and lieutenants over the lesser. Rumors of Vampire and Mummy Lords as well as other Liches joining the cause have been frequent enough to cause me great concern. Those creatures are not to be taken lightly and it brings to bear the power their king has in his grasp to be able to control creatures that strong." He sighs, then rests his hand on his chin as if in deep contemplation, letting his right elbow rest on the table.
"There are may parts to this puzzle, may keys to find before we can confront this amassed evil. There is a tower, far to the north in the great and icy mountains of the Pago Mountain Range. Journey into it's depths. Inside, you will find a grunt belonging to the scourge who was set to guard the pillar when they invaded the first time. He protects a relic that will lead us to the next leg of our adventure. For this to succeeded, you all must be true to your quest...and to one another." He pauses and looks each of you in the eyes.
"The fate of the Kingdom lies in your hands and I trust you will be successful in your endeavor. There is much relying on you. Please, there are rooms upstairs. Feel free and rest then leave at first light. We'll discuss it further in the morning."
Father Michael finishes his meal and allows everyone else to do so then guides each to their quarters for the evening. He then dismisses himself to his chambers located at the top of the tree.
The night is quiet. Even the village outside, a struggling people trying to hang on to what little of their world they have left, is quiet.
Jeremiah 20:9-But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.
CrimsonRose settles into her room. It's cozy and the fur blankets on the bed are soft and welcoming. The journey ahead sounds dangerous but exciting at the same time. She quickly checks her inventory and confirms that her weaponry is good but she's concerned about the cold mountain area and keeping warm. She wonders if Father Michael has any spare wolf pelts or maybe a tree in the forest can make her one with this strange druidic magic. Either way, she makes a mental note to ask him about it in the morning as she can no longer hold back her heavy eye lids.
((The following, up until my next double-paren, signifies things I said to Guy before the big plot element.))
With an almost hazy gaze, he said to Guy In a way. There are eight "schools" for us, Abjuration, Conjuration, Divination...Well, you probably don't need an exhaustive list. However, there are strange laws regarding the arcane...for instance, we can choose a school we favor above others and learn it better than the rest. At this point, his face become somber. However, such power does not come for free. We must almost always give up two schools altogether. Poof. Gone to us forever. That is the price we pay... At this point the wine takes a better hold of him, and in an effort to control himself, Minather starts shifting uncomfortably.
As CrimsonBlade makes her comment about magic, Minather is too concerned with keeping himself upright to notice or comment.
((Now, cut to the room))
Knowing that spellcasting and adventuring both require a good night's rest, Minather gets ready for bed and falls asleep almost instantly, not waking until the morning.
After the meal, Kratimos thanks his host and proceeded upstairs. His head is still bothering him, and he hopes a night's rest will do him good, but there's a nagging feeling inside that it won't. Once in his room, he strips of his armor and clothes, carefully places his helm on the nearest furniture and lays in bed.
Pago Mountains, eh, Kratimos thought to himself. It's been a while.
As people begin to drift off to sleep, the door bursts open to reveal a travel weary dwarf. He stomps through the door muttering something about "traffic" on a "beltway," and apologizing for being late. He heads straight for the keg and pours himself a mug before sitting down at a table. Only then does he realize how empty the common room is, wondering aloud, "where be e'rebody? Durn traffic..."
((Ironwizard-Welcome! I'm compiling the next step for the story. If you don't mind, I'll have your character end the night passed out on the couch with the mug in his hand and I'll write up a post from there. Is that cool?))
Jeremiah 20:9-But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.
))
