[Game Thread] Chapter 1: Something Wicked

[ShadowcatX]

An ill wind blows. Enemies of all the people of Khorvaire rise from the depths of Khyber, enemies slip in from the outer planes, enemies long though destroyed gain power in the shadows and while it is natural for the power of the enemies of the mortal races to wax and wane, now hands hidden in shadow manipulate events through Prophecy to sow chaos through the land.

Sages looking back on this event from the future will never agree where everything started, but one of the most commonly accepted starting places is a small and unimportant thorpe on the border of Aundair and the Eldreen Reaches, Windshire.

In the country of Aundair in a sleepy little village known as Windshire, near the border of the Eldeen Reaches a man has a job he needs done. He posts fliers throughout the town and even has a tiny classified ad in the Korranburg Chronicle. They all read the same:

"Seeking adventurers, do gooders, and people willing to work for coin for a small job in Windshire. It is a private matter that I shall discuss with interested applicants over supper a week hence at the temple of the Silver Flame in Windshire. Please have your papers in order and be prepared for a short journey, should you accept the job."
- Brother Talesin of the Silver Flame

[ShadowcatX]

Asking around what passes for a town reveals that the local "Temple" of the Silver Flame is actually an old farm stead about half a mile out of town whose owners were killed near the end of the last war. It was recently purchased by Brother Talesin and his crew and they've been remodeling it with the plans of opening the Temple once it is finished.

Arriving at the victorian style three story home, you are immediately impressed with the vastness of it. It must have been gorgeous in its day, but now time has had its way with the house for too long, and it looks as though it is on the bring of being unsalvageable. Still, you can see where the workers have been doing what they can and the fresh work contrasts to the old and run down nature of the rest of the house and seems to indicate that they believe they can save it.

As you approach the house proper two young and muscular men labor on replacing rotted beams on the porch. Barely looking up at you from their labor they grunt a welcome and motion you toward the door. As you draw near the smell of the freshly cut wood mingles with the aroma of roasted pig, and you're certain a succulent feast awaits you within. Almost before you knock a half elf who looks to be approaching middle age opens the door. He wears a fine attire and bids you welcome.

"Good day. You are here about the job my master posted, yes? Please do come in. Dinner is still being prepared and my master bids you to partake of it with him once it is finished. He is in the dining hall, I shall take you to him." He turns and leads you through the elaborate but deteriorating house to the dining hall.

As you enter the dining hall you are impressed at the size of it, it is easily large enough to hold two dozen people. The room is dominated by a long dining table, empty save for the table cloth and a few eternal flame candles. A young man, scarcely old enough to grow a beard rises from the head of the table and comes to greet you.

"I'm very glad you've come. I am Brother Talesin of the Silver Flame, and while I'm sure you're anxious to hear the details of the job I would prefer to save that for after dinner when we are all together. For now, and during dinner allow us more pleasant topics. But please, come in and sit, dinner shall be served shortly and until then we at least have wine. Laird, fetch our guest here a goblet of wine."

Laird, obviously the half elf servant runs off to get your wine and Brother Talesin directs you to be seated near the head of the table.

[Cherubaddon]

Aymeric, a kempt man in his early twenties sporting a solid tan and a thin, groomed goatee, adjusts the broad blade hanging across his back and confidently strides into his dining hall, returning the priest's greeting with a beaming smile. "It is good to finally meet you in person, Brother," he says, extending his hand jovially, "Aymeric Radelorn," - he has decided to keep the title to himself for now - "from New Galifar." He steps aside to let the others - more mercenaries, he would assume, though he has yet to have to pleasure - introduce themselves before accompanying the host back to the high table while letting his gaze wander around the imposing hall. "I must say," he resumes casually, "you have found yourself quite the temple. Although it looks like quite a bit of work as well. How soon were you thinking of having it finished?"

[ShadowcatX]

"Nothing is ever finished, I'm afraid, my friend Aymeric, there is always more work to be done in the name of the Silver Flame. But this is building is only a beginning, once it is finished I plan to begin working on a temple to rival that of Flamekeep itself. The holy Flame deserves nothing less. Tell me, friend, are you a believer?"

[Cidolfas]

A scruffy looking dwarf takes an empty seat and listens as first the Brother and then Aymeric speak up. “The name’s Ugren Norathun,” was the only information he give the others. He looks very much like he has been living in the wilderness his entire life. The mail he is wearing still gleams, however, and his finely made weapons look to be well maintained. Ugren shifts uncomfortably in his seat while waiting for them to get down to business.

[Peter172]

A Warforged enters the room and takes his place at the table. He is smaller and lighter than the typical warforged, roughly about the same size as a human male. That sets him arart from most other warforged, but his body also sets him apart since it lacks the metal plates that serve as armor on most warforged. His body is constructed mostly of a durable wood that is a dark shade of mahogony brown. His face is thin and angular, with rather delicate features that seem more life like than other warforged, but it us still obvious at a glance that he is a living construct. His eyes are dark red, and he wears the silver lined robes of his order.

The Flame's blessings unto you Brother Talesin. It is so nice to see another temple being constructed in the name of the Flame. It will be a blessing to the good folks for miles around, and a comfort to know the Brothers of the Flame are close by to offfer protection and guidance.

Nalus sits ramrod straight at the table. During his speech the only thing that moves is his mouth, but it seems that a glimmer of a smile can be seen on the darkwood "lips" of the monk.

[ShadowcatX]

Leading the dwarf and the warforged back to the table a slight look of discomfort flashes across Talesin's face as he greets the warforged and you can't help but wonder if perhaps he is uncomfortable in its presence. Still, it is gone in a moment and his pleasant nature returns. "I pray that you are right, I wish only to bring the light of the Flame to these people's lives. It is a pleasure to be in your company friend, long have I been traveling these lands, and I miss the camaraderie of my fellows."

[IrishKatt]

A figure, Clad in strange clothes, whose skin is of black and white color. Her eyes, burning like an amethyst flame. As she looked around, her lithe body seemed to glide more than walk as she looked around. If one were to look at her, her face would seem much like that of a statue, unmoving, and one of a constant expression. Thankfully Aliandrah was gifted with a calm serene expression rather than another which might be more problematic.

It had been a while since they had started their travels; her and her brother, and as much as she thought the road would be interesting, nothing seemed to bewilder her. Walking up through this small Hamlet as she called it She came across some strangers with whom she conversed. Odd creatures they were, wasting time with words. After a brief conversation she headed by the way they mentioned; to the Makeshift Temple.

As she arrives she notices the men working, and pays them no mind really, though their muscular build did pique her interest she instead moved through the people until she found someone who looked like they were in charge. "Excuse me, but I am looking for a Brother Talesin" Her words were very elegant despite her calm, and seemingly unchanging expression. Her words seemed very melodic and soft, almost as though they were being spoken to the recipient through a dream.

[Peter172]

Nihlus had gotten used to some strange reactions to his race in the past, and he certainly expected to encounter them again in the future, so he barely even noticed the look the man gave him. He did seem to be alright with it after that brief glimmer of tension after all.

Well I am certainly glad I came then. Perhaps when we are done dealing with your problem I could assist in the building of temple. I am not the most skilled of craftsmen, but what I lack in skill I make up for in determination.

[ShadowcatX]

The half elf servant bows slightly to the exotic woman, but his eyes never leaving her face. "I am Laird. This way madam, and I must say, you look quite exotic. I am a fledgling artist but I would love an opportunity to sketch you some day."

He leads you to a dining hall, where 2 men, a dwarf, and a warforged sit in discussion.

"I do appreciate the offer of help, friend, but I believe those who have the strength and talent to fight evil should use those talents, let those who do not have such and ability build temples. Your work purging evil is a much higher service to the Flame than their work on the temple. And who do we have here?"

Brother Talesin rises and walks over to the young woman and bows slightly less than his servant did before. "Merry meetings my lady, I am Brother Talesin. Come, please, join us, we were simply sipping wine and enjoying light conversation as we await our food and the remainder of those who will be joining you on my job, should you accept it."

[mad_gondsman]

A young, fresh-faced, whip-thin woman steps through the doors shortly after the unusual female, looking about curiously as she extricates herself from the straps of her pack and a bandoleer which carries an assortment of baubles, trinkets, pouches, and bags. She is dressed as a traveler and her lacquered green leather armor and boots are heavy with dust from the road. In spite of this, however, not a red hair upon her head is out of place. Like a flame, it rises up above her head to taper off to a point...

She is lightly armed with a curved dagger and a long leather sap tucked into the red sash about her narrow waist... the only other visible weaponry being the crossbow hanging from her pack. She does not possess the grit and hard-nosed edge of a warrior, appearing instead as if she is armed and armored out of necessity. Nevertheless, she carries herself with an air of confidence and does not look weary from travel in spite of her load.

As she steps closer, an artful tangle of azure lines can be seen about her left eye... the unmistakable mark of one of the The Mark of Finding of House Tharashk for those of you that may be familiar with such things.dragonmarked houses...

She follows the half-elf and the exotic woman, smiling and replying when spoken to as her eyes dart from one face to the next until she finds her mark...

"Brother Talesin, I presume..." she says, bowing slightly in greeting after she drops her things by the door. Nodding to the others present, figuring that there would be time for introductions later, she promptly makes her way to a seat.

She eases herself into her chair, examining each of you unabashedly... all while smiling politely.

[ShadowcatX]

"M'lady, welcome. I had no idea that we would have one so honored with us this evening. 'Tis truly a blessed occasion, the Flame smiles upon me tonight, upon all of us."

[oogoa]

Koralask stomped past the half-elf, snarling in way of a greeting. He, like his sister, was tattooed bright whites and deepest blacks, but where she was emotionless and graceful, Koralask seemed a cauldron of barely controlled emotion, his muscles tense, his fists clenched, and his teeth grinding.. His bright red eyes seemed to take in everything from underneath his long, filthy black hair, and his clothing hung in tatters.

Where is she? He barked at the servant, Where is my sister? He had been horrified to find her gone from there small room, horror which had quickly turned to anger when he realized that she had gone off on her own.

Without waiting for an answer from the put upon servant, he strode towards the dining room, muttering angrily to himself. Upon entry to the room, his eyes immediately fell upon she who he was seeking. Glancing about, he saw the other inhabitants of the room, but dismissed them as unimportant. Striding forward, the spiked armor he wore underneath his rags clanking slightly, he practically yelled at his sibling.

Aliandrah! What in the Nine Hells are You doing here?

[ShadowcatX]

From the head of the table, Brother Talesin rises and holds up his hands showing he is unarmed, but he does not approach the angry sibling in greeting. "Be at peace friend, I am Brother Talesin of the Silver Flame and your sister was just about to join us for a meal, and listen to my job opportunity, she has come to no harm, and indeed you would be hard pressed to find a safer place than a Temple of the Silver Flame. Please, calm thy anger and have a seat, Laird shall fetch you a goblet of wine and I am certain our meal is nearly done, even if you are not looking for work, you can certainly stay for the meal."

[Cherubaddon]

Glad that he does not have to answer the question about his beliefs - as experience has taught him there seldom is a correct answer - Aymeric leans back, still smiling, to take in the flood of strangers who stream into the great hall. His left hand, clad in an archaic-looking gauntlet, lies motionless on the table as he strokes his goatee with his right, attentively scrutinizing each of the strangers. A dwarf. He has not had many relations with them, but hears they are good soldiers and steadfast friends. A warforged, one seeming cold and distant even by the standards of his kind. Two kalashtar - he is wary of them. The Riedran auxiliaries guarding his hometown have told him stories... but he himself is the example no race is without their exceptions.

The one he is most reluctant to grant such a chance is the dragonmarked lady. Whether one is born a human, dwarf or kalashtar may not necessarily say much about one's choices in life, but being born with a dragonmark makes many choices for its bearer. Schemers, decadents, two-faced assassins... Aymeric's father had always said that had it not been for the great houses, Cyre would never have fallen, and that it had been their folly and intrigues that plunged Khorvaire into the Great War to begin with. Should it come to it, she will be the last to entrust with his life.
Feeling his smile faltering under the somber thoughts, the Q'barran stretches it a bit further, sitting up in his chair. No need to create any bad blood ahead of time.

"So," he says jovially as the introductions end and conversation begins to falter, "Brother Talesin... as much as I enjoy the pleasantries, I must confess I am quite impatient to know what I have made all the way from Fairhaven for." He laughs lightly to take the edge off his words and looks around. "And it seems a safe wager most of you are, as well. So, Brother... would you tell us more about your little problem?"