'Lupi made me do it Registered Member #175
Joined: 5:49:41 pm GMT 07/23/04
Posts: 4286
An unmarked letter is left with Muris, of Raven's Watch. Payment is made to the necromancer in rift rocks and gold to ensure that it, and a small pouch, finds any customer that fits a very specific set of descriptive factors:
- Elven, male, lean frame but muscular - Tattooed in excess, flames and fires over legs and arms - Answers to 'Itsekuri'
The pouch contained a small amount of gold, enough to buy some meager supplies to help one be better equipped for moving around from place to place.
The letter contained the first orders of their kind for the man in question.
"You will travel to the Feywood. It is North along the road from the Watch, in your current location. I need you to investigate the 'Council' that rules that place. Do what it takes to gain access to their halls, to learn what you can of them, gain their trust if that is even possible. I need eyes in that forest that can show me all that is currently hidden from my view.
I also need information on key figures or heads of their rangers. Find out what you can about one named 'Styvn' if possible. His known associates, elven or otherwise. There is a void in our knowledge and reconnaissance when it comes to elves, and you will fix that.
Reports should be submitted to Muris in the fashion that I have made this letter available for you. You won't have to pay him - I will cover any cost he asks for. For anything urgent you should find me immediately or Liekki, the kin who you met me with before. I am unlikely to be far from the Watch for more than a couple of days at a time without prior notice."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Dwent did not know whether the offer to meet with the Council would come to be realised. If nothing else it served as a distracting measure in the mean time for this ranger to busy himself with on the General's behalf. At least with an agent in the elf lands, Styvn's words could be heeded for a time: Dwent had no immediate need to return to the gnolls yet - with the exception of having an all-too-perfect excuse to lead Halla to the Feywood Stronghold and cause an ENORMOUS distraction, that Dwent might get on with a brief foray into the northern Feywood unhindered.
He got lost in those northern parts but eventually managed to work his way towards the west, by sheer accident, and found a road leading to the dirt-trail south from the Northlands. That was interesting at least, an alternative passage into the Feywood should it be needed.
Registered Member #191
Joined: 2:06:27 pm GMT 07/31/04
Posts: 443
A thought occurred to Morgan. It had been established that the gnolls are receiving support via the sea. But evidence exists that others on the island are visiting the gnolls' territory. And they are managing to to this without being observed by elven scouts in the Feywood. He thought he knew all the paths into the marshes and they all pass by the Feywood Stronghold. It would be nigh impossible to slip through this way without being spotted. There must be another path into the marshes, one that does not pass so near the Stronghold. He goes into the Feywood and the surrounding area searching for such. In the far northern marsh, not far from the main gnoll fort Morgan finds what appears to be a portal. Morgan had trod this same spot in the past and did not recall seeing this ring of stones. He is unable to activate the portal or decypher the runes and markings on its stones. Some magic, whether arcane or divine, must involve its use. Where does it lead? Who built it and who has been using it? No recent spore is to be seen in the grassy area around the stones but Morgan feels certain the stone ring serves some one as a 'path' into the marshes. A party of gnolls approach the standing stones forcing Morgan to melt into the trees and slip away.
Jungle Law Enforcerer Registered Member #1180
Joined: 7:46:29 am GMT 10/05/07
Posts: 1292
....Meanwhile in the Grey Mountains....
The fire was going, it was high and bright in the night, the cold receded from it while the drumming and the brawling kept a continuous company in the cold nights over the Grey Mountains.
Jan Tammuk was eating something he never tasted before, the Orks were looking at him and smirking at each other.
He did not care for the savages nor their particular manners. He had orders about finding new possible trrading routes as the Gnolls were becoming a burden more than anything else.
He was beginning to grow impatient though, his last missives with his requests seemed to have gone unnoticed, the answers clearly stated to remain in position and continue the forging of trading relationship.
Most of the brutish creatures accepted the gifts he brought for acceptance: magical crafts, weapons and armors, the others found his presence bareable after he showed that bigger didn't necessarily mean stronger.
The Orks let him keep the heads of those who defied him and challenged him.
He talked with many of the Torch Bearers and the soldiers' commanders. All of them seemed keen to deal with the Thayans, they would provide new slaves in exchange of magical trinkets for the Torch Bearers and better weaponry and armors for the soldiers and the scouts.
Shamans opposed to him, they did not trust the after the voices of the Earth and the spirits of the Mountains communed with them: the Shamans were telling tales of undead spirits and rift energies roaming free because of Thayan doing, nothing good would come from Thay.
He did not know anything about such undeads or "rift energies" but the Shamans' stories were stalling the situation. These Shamans held a very firm grip over most of the Orkish Community.
His orders were clear, create the most suitable enviroment for trade to happen, and he was working on it, yet the lack of answers to his requests unsettled him a little, but failure was not an option.
Slowly he was to upset the balance in the Orkish community, so the upper hand would be gained...it was a matter of time and patience.
Registered Member #2049
Joined: 12:00:00 am GMT 01/01/70
Posts: 0
An unmarked letter is left with Muris, of Raven's Watch. The elf leaving the letter gave Muris a nod and left without saying a word, knowing it wouldn't be given to anyone but the General.
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I have made contact with the council. They are not stupid, they don't trust me yet. The numbers are guards present in each room when I visited. Mixed infantry, bowmen and magic-users. The other rooms are living quarters, meeting rooms and such. They were empty at the time but had signs of recent use. The council room was empty save for four members of the council, including Lady Syrrisia herself. It was early afternoon.
'Lupi made me do it Registered Member #175
Joined: 5:49:41 pm GMT 07/23/04
Posts: 4286
Taking care not to spook the elven patrols in the Feywood, Dwent carefully advanced close enough to the Elven fortress while remaining out of range of any loose arrows - or so he hoped. It wasn't long before he spotted some scouts heading his way and they made no effort to hide from him - that in itself not hard to do for this man's senses are no where near so finely tuned. Perhaps they travelled with hidden reinforcements however - he expected as much of them at all times now. Although fully armoured Dwent did not have any weapons drawn, not even his shield, an implicit sign that he trusted not to become filled with holes. Instead he held something far less aggressive aloft in his right hand: a sealed envelope addressed to 'Styvn'.
With his free hand upturned and open to demonstrate he did not come seeking trouble:
"See that this is delivered safely..." he spoke, clear so the patrol could hear him as they neared. Their expressions firmly resolute but perhaps this unusual display lacking hostility confused them for a moment.
The general then carefully placed the envelope down on a small rock and turned, swiftly leaving the woods and hoping the message was delivered.
It was a risky strategy, to try to play the elves, but no doubt they would be curious to hear him out. The Greenvale elves had given him a chance back when Red threatened to unleash the ancient evil of Gorrath unto the island - and ultimately, in Dwent's mind at least, he had saved the day! Something made Dwent feel that these northern elves might not humour such a request however, but a man could try. He'd need to be certain in his mind though of who was duping who.
Registered Member #1145
Joined: 8:28:45 pm GMT 08/30/07
Posts: 823
The night was not young, and the full moon was high in the heavens as Styvn made his way back through the gate and into the Stronghold. One of the scouts was waiting for him at the eastern edge of the bridge, an envelope in his hand.
"My lord, a large, armored man left this for you just south of the Stronghold. He did not give his name, but I am certain his armor was Thayan."
The scout held out the envelope and Styvn took it from his hand.
"Thank you, Far'el. Did he linger in our lands?"
"No, my lord, he did not. He left the envelope on a rock in front of us and bid us deliver it safely to you. He then turned and walked south with purpose. I used a piece of doeskin to pick it up and contain it, and had the Druids examine the outside of the envelope for signs of any poisons or magical wards. They found none."
"Very well. If you see him again, or his tracks, let me know at once."
"Of course, my lord."
The two exchanged head bows, and Styvn made his way into the canopy. Once there, he opened the envelope and read the letter he found inside.
letter wrote ...
"Ranger Styvn.
I am still very keen to engage in discussion with your esteemed council, and am thus far disappointed to have not received contact regarding this. I would suggest that you remind them of the value in us working towards a solution in the problems that plague you from the moors.
I have come to learn some very interesting news indeed that I propose to share with your council. And, indeed, a solution to more than one of your people's problems. Sometimes it takes an outside-opinion to help in such matters.
My point of contact remains the same, Lord Khalador's tower in the Drakamyre. May we make haste towards a mutual resolution of the issues that befall us all.
~signed~ General D. Chambers."
A slight smile came to the ranger's lips as he processed the meaning underlying the letter's delivery. Dwent is anxious to meet with the Council now. He has obviously thought of a way to gain something he wants from us. He would not be so eager to aid us for any other reason. Whatever information he claims to have would not be given to us for our benefit, but for his own.
He must deliver this letter to the Council soon, and see what they have to say about it. They have had enough time to plan for whatever "old way" they were considering to facilitate a meeting with the Thayan without allowing him to enter the Council chambers.
Jungle Law Enforcerer Registered Member #1180
Joined: 7:46:29 am GMT 10/05/07
Posts: 1292
Few days ago, Bezanthur.
Jon Tammuk was approaching Bezanthur from the sea, after a long sea voyage. The sturdy vessel was making slow but steady progress toward the city harbour. The man inhaled deeply, the harbour's smells hit him as fist on the face, almost a solid wall where he crushed into.
The news of the Dragon's death left him baffled but, as the General Chamber said, it was not the place of soldiers to question. Truth was that he was no soldier, and he had questions to ask.
Find the right people, and ask the right questions for the correct answers, firstly though, show his respect to Miss Lerande. Intrigues have their forms and policies afterall.
***
Jon Tammuk left the audience with Miss Lerande dark on his face, he was assigned to the trade and the escort of slaves thorugh the Anauroch. The new Misstress was sending him away, for a large pay though. In a year he could retire and live off his earnings, not in Bezanthur though, that would be calling for unnecessary troubles. She did send him away on the first place.
Afterall he wasn't /that/ attached to Tarikk K'tul, leaving his death surrounded in mystery did not seem a bad choice anymore.
A year more before retirement and have a life of pleasures, he smiled as he started to gather the company to travel eastbound, toward the desert.
***
As Tammuk left the room, Miss Lerande waved an hand and a young servant approcahed.
- Ready the ritual chamber, I will have to speak with this General Chambers -
The servant nodded and scurried away.
The Misstress turned to watch the sea and continued her trail of thoughts in her own mind. Support I promised, and he shall have it. Yet these are matters of a certain delicacy, not trustable to parchment and ink.
Registered Member #1145
Joined: 8:28:45 pm GMT 08/30/07
Posts: 823
Styvn made a brief report to the Feywood council explaining the details of how he received the letter written by Dwent Chambers. During the meeting he gave the letter to Chancellor Terithendel. He informed them that he did not trust the Thayan, and advised extreme caution in dealing with him.
Registered Member #17
Joined: 1:33:47 am GMT 02/25/04
Posts: 1364
The battle of the Cleft, Ahron's account.
It had started as a wonderful day in good company when smoke began to pour from the cleft behind them.
Not knowing what to expect, the gathered readied themselves before charging in. Ahron peered through the smoke to find both raging fires and a battle raging as well, as host of gnolls, bagnorn and what might have been some kind of fire elementals surged forth to keep them from the fires consuming their blessed Guardian Oak.
He saw some fall to the surprise attack and he dove to the right to escape stinging vines and clutching stone and found himself near Krin and Aniril. Taking a moment to heal from their spell-wrought wounds together they began to concentrate their fire and cut a swath through the enemy lines. Relief washed over him as he noticed Kellenri was still in the battle and far too slowly all those still able to fight finally overwhelmed the last of the attackers.
The flames still burned their precious oak and Ahron ran to the still form of Dawson. Knowing the druid would have the power to douse the flames he broke healing seeds into his mouth and helped him back to consciousness. The human revived quickly and soon called forth a powerful rain from the sky to smother the fires. Once the steam and smoke cleared, to their horror they found the damage far worse than they had hoped. Together they joined to somehow fight the inevitable, to save the ancient guardian and heal the gaping black wounds that threatened her. Spell and prayer and communal will brought the assembled elves closer to the source than ever before but in their new shared awareness they could only feel the love the ancient one held for them before she simply passed.
A deep sorrow took hold of him then as they all expressed their outrage and disbelief, considered how this all came to pass and began to form plans for how to respond to the attack. Ahron was somewhat detached as he listened, rarely adding anything as he tried to come to terms with the enormity of what had happened... eventually he spoke what was on his mind. "The Council must be informed."
Those remaining made their way to the fasthold and into the council chambers where the council themselves were stunned at the report of the passing of the Ancient Guardian. They warned that unforeseen complications could arise from this tragedy, and as if the words were prophetic a scout ran into the chamber and warned of spiders from the Adnumbral were swarming from the west into the stronghold.
Again they charged into battle and repelled the vermin, but it was clear that whatever power held the spiders at bay was now weakened or gone completely. The Feywood was already changing.
It was not until all the words were finally spoken and all had departed that Ahron took to the canopy and allowed the grief to overwhelm him.
As the dawn came red the next morning after a fruitless attempt at reverie an idea came to him. He dressed quickly and descended to the ground in search of Lady Syrrisia.