[Game Thread] Keep on the Shadowfell

[Ianae Skydancer]

You're a strange sight coming down the road - a motley collection of dragonborn, half-orc, wolf, human, half-elf, eladrin and halfling apparently traveling together. Most travelers you meet eye you warily and give you as much room as possible. You're not sure if it's the presence of the wolf padding silently alongside the half-orc, or just a general mistrust of strangers.

You and your companions are on your way to the village of Winterhaven, where Valanae hopes to locate an old friend and mentor, Douven Staul. Douven, a rabid explorer of old ruins, bade his friends farewell three months ago and headed for Winterhaven after finding an old map that revealed the location of a dragon's tomb not far from the village. He should have returned some time ago and his continuing absence is a source of concern.

Percival, on the other hand, has an entirely different reason for traveling to Winterhaven. Marla, one of the clerics at the church orphanage where he grew up contacted him not long ago. Her research into the history and activity of various demon and death cults turned up reports that a small group of death cultists was seen traveling toward Winterhaven about a year ago. Further inquiries led to the identity of the head of this group is a dangerous and twisted priest named Kalarel. She asked Percival to travel to Winterhaven and find what assistance he could to determine if there is any death cult activity in the area and, if so, to put an end to it. Marla has offered 250 gp for bringing back proof that the cult has been destroyed and its plan disrupted.

The rest of your group were either recruited by the same people who recruited Valanae and Percival, or, like them, you met in inns and taverns along the way and discovered that you all had business in that general direction. Your reasons for combining forces are as varied as you are, but one thing is clear - you mean to see the job done.

You are currently on the King's Road traveling west toward Winterhaven. Various members of the group are conversing. The wind on your face is cool and comfortable. The road beneath your feet is level. An occasional ancient cobblestone peeks through the dirt road, indicating decades of neglect since the fall of Nerath. You notice footprints leading up and down the road, many of which were made by small, clawed feet. There are fewer signs of wagon or horse traffic, although they are there also. It's late morning.

[Samulus]

"Tell me friends, why are we walking to our destination? Was it too much to purchase a few horses and a wagon? 'Tis a sad state of affairs when the nobility suffer the inhumanity of treading upon the dirt like a commoner." Karakat groaned. He hated walking. It was a slow, agonizing method of travel that was unbecoming of a noble.

His family had spent generations fighting tooth and nail for every last gold they were owed. Massive libraries were erected at their expense to showcase everything they had collected from the hundreds of Arkhosian ruins. Karakat himself was the living conduit of a god long thought dead at the hands of the primordials. And now... he was walking. How revolting!

[Zombzeez]

"Oh come now, its not so bad." Caanan tosses his arms up in the air, stretching them exaggeratedly. "Personally I love the feel of the earth beneath my feet." The halfling looks up at the dragonborn with a massive grin on his face, most of which was from enjoyment over the noble lizard's discomfort.

[Houtoku]

"Were it not such a nice day out, I'd be inclined to agree with you." Val stops and stretches for a moment in the sun, "That being said, it is rather nice out.. so suck it up cupcake."

Resuming walking, he says over his shoulder, "I don't think any of us feel like spending this entire trip listening to the whining of some self-important, minor 'noble'."

[Samulus]

Karakat fumed as Valanae told him, in essence, to deal with it. This insult deserved some sort of response, a rebuttal. "Your not so high on the food chain yourself, Eladrin. I may think more of myself than I should, but at least I have something to go back to." With that, Karakat returned to whining about his previous point.
"I still think we should have purchased some sort of transport. This... walking, is taking forever. Not to mention my feet are killing me. How far is it to our destination anyway?"

[Khazok]

Khaz silently cursed at Karakat's whining about not having transportation "You do realize that the makers of carriage's like yours killed both my and Orion's mother" With that Khaz slipped off the road and into the forest. "Me and Orion will go scout ahead, hopefully will will find the source of these reptillian footprints, with any luck they'll be less bothersome than you Karakat" Khaz then moved into the shadows and him and Orion slid out of sight.

[fox-master]

This armor is chafing something terrible...! Percival comments light heartedly, attempting once more to re-arrange some of it. It’s not built for comfort, or speed…. I agree with you Karakat, I’ll be purchasing a horse next chance I get…. Still, it’s a good day for a walk, and walking is good for the soul… We’re making good progress! He strides along purposefully, trying not to let his heavy armor limit his speed too much. His hair is damp with perspiration and the breeze on his face is comforting. He watches Khazok dart off the road. Percival was also curios as to the origin of the strange footprints.

[Illya]

Strolling along behind the massive dragonborn, Naeve chackles at his discomfort, and laughs out loud at Percival's - a musical, tinkling laugh with no mockery in it. "Well, I have sympathy with the armor Percy - My nice loose robes are much more comfortable. But the walking's not so bad - we get to see the world at its own pace, smell the flowers and see the trees. Hear the wind, at Orion can run about freely - what could go wrong on a day like this?"

[fox-master]

Indeed… you are right my lady… Percival replies to Naeve. To have the peace of mind to appreciate simple pleasures, like a stroll in the countryside, is a great treasure.

However well crafted this armor is - I am still getting use to it... I need to harden up he says with a grin. It was made by Dwarven hand - one of the local smithies back home. I’m sure I’ll forget the discomfort the next time it turns a blade. He presses on, trying to ignore the blisters.

[Houtoku]

"Percy, a trick I learned a number of years ago was to keep the straps loose while marching, only tightening them if you anticipate combat. It doesn't work so well if you're ambushed, but for a routine walk in the woods, it certainly takes the edge off."

[Illya]

Naeve runs a hand through her thick red hair and smiles at Percival "Well, since I've never worn any kind of armor, I'll take your word for it - hopefully you won't have to test it against any blades for a while! Does anyone know Winterhaven at all? I'd love to find an inn with a bath...and a good beer cellar!"

[Zombzeez]

"See? thats the problem with you big races. You're so damned easy to hit, you have to wear metal to protect yourselves." Caanan shrugs. He nods his head at the scimitars on his back. "Hell, those are almost too much of the stuff for me to bother with."

[Samulus]

"And your small enough to fit in my pocket, halfling. That isn't something I would be particularly proud of." Karakat responded, still handing out angry glares to anyone who took a sideways glance at him.

[Zombzeez]

Caanan slowly unsheathes one of his scimitars and begins cleaning it thoughtfully. "Tell me, how would you feel if you found a poisonous snake in your bed? And since size is of such importance to you. Imagine its fangs were two feet long, made of steel, and covered in a poison I had just poured all over them." Caanan lets loose a disturbingly wide grin at the end of his rant and continues to work on his blade. "That dumb lizard, he's wearing a dress, I wasn't even talking about him..."

[Samulus]

Karakat slowly turned to address the halfling. The little fool thought of himself as his equal? "A snake is a snake is a snake. Its head is easily crushed into paste. Especially when you have a god on your side, guiding your every move, filling you with his power directly from the source. Imagine the roar of a golden dragon deafening you, the sight of your own blood coming forth from every pore, a blast of golden light brighter than any sun bathing you in holy flame. Karakat gave the smaller creature a stone hard glare while inwardly giving himself a pat on the back for being so witty. Foolish halfling... as if those flimsy little knives could do anything to the vessel of a god; poison or no.