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Old 11-30-2016, 04:30 PM
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Chapter 1: The Awakening

Where it all begins again
When the good man teaches wisdom to the fool, the Darkbringer will die.

So Sayeth the Wise Alaundo

One year ago, a red-headed sell-sword awoke to the sound of two dogs barking. She opened her eyes, her memories of the time before lost.... She woke to the sight of an elaborate azure tattoo marked on her right arm. Inscribed within the brilliant blue tattoo were six distinct marks.

Little did she who would become to be known as Alias of Azure Bonds have any real idea of what was about to unfold as she left the upstairs room of the Windlords Rest, in the sleepy town of Tilverton. Convinced that the marks were little more than a drunken prank, the sell-sword set about discovering the true origins behind the self-styled Azure Bonds. What the warrior discovered though did more than shock her to the very core of her being. It dragged her into a deadly plot of political maneuverings and machinations -- one that threatened to destabilise the entirety of the Moonsea.

One that would change her very life......

***

And so it was, one year later, that a band of adventurers woke to the sound of two dogs barking. As they woke to the sound, a hubbub echoed in from outside the singular window that even now let the faint rays of dawn into the room. There was a crashing sound, and outside, the barking sound stopped as suddenly as it started. A faint breeze drifted into the room from outside. It was a nice, refreshing breeze that washed over the sleepy group. Summer was starting to fade in Toril, to be replaced by autumn, and the temperature had dropped from its overwhelming heat to a nice, tolerable one.

The bed that one of the group lay on was well made, and the room itself was certainly both clean and presentable. Whoever owned it certainly seemed to take a modicum of pride in making their rooms presentable. As they opened heavy-lidded eyes, their minds flitted recalled shadowy memories that presented themselves in a wild cacophony of seemingly random images. Dark-skinned warriors leaping out of the shadows, clutching wicked curved blades dripping with dark poison.

Drow.

Had you really encountered drow? Here, on the surface, where they were rarely, if ever, seen?

Even worse than that, at the very recesses of your mind, you see something else, floating behind the drow. Several great, bloated orbs, tendrils extending out of the great, floating mass. Each one of the tendrils ending in a small eye. And in the center of the orb, one great eye and a wide, cavernous jaw filled with razor-sharp teeth.

But how then....how, if the strange images were true....how is it that you still lived?

One mystery opens.....and a second adds to it. As your eyes come into focus, as you lift weary heads. As you try to move limbs that feel like leaden dead weights, you see something strange.....something remarkable. A large, elaborate azure tattoo covering the length of your right arms. And within the tattoo, five distinct markings.


Who had done this to you -- and why? What did these strange markings mean?

In truth, there was little way that the group could ever realise that even now, as they came to their senses, they were laying in the same room that Alias of the Azure Bonds had, one year ago. It had all come full circle, and it had begun again, one more time.

Little did they realise that their lives were about to change....forevermore.
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Old 12-01-2016, 02:28 PM
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A New Day DawnsRiv sat at a table down in the main hall of the inn, breaking his fast with the rest of his allies. They were still discussing the events of what had apparently happened to all of them the night before. About the Drow that had invading their room and slapped a strange runic brand on them all, and immediately left with the last few moments of night. Riv had been proactive in the sense of taking etchings of the mark and making a copy for everyone to keep on their person. He felt that if it was important enough for it to be literally pressed into their flesh, they should present a drawing first before showing the actual mark on their bodies.

The armored Orc was leaning over the table, tapping his finger on the wood and silently scanning the symbol over and over again. He was trying to determine if he could determine what these various symbols could mean. A flaming dagger, an open palm with a mouth, a pennant-shape with a strange zigzag across it, what looked like an Elven house symbol to him, and a rune that he thought he recognized but could't recall it's meaning. Fire? Earth? Life? He just couldn't pull the info from the dusty corners of his mind.

With a heavy sigh he tucked the paper into his pack at his feet and produced a book and an inkwell with pen. The book was a journal he was keeping, and he had been gathering what info he could recall about last night's events, along with asking everyone else what they could recall. Any piece of info could be useful. He added a couple more notes and finally spoke up in his baritone growl, "Anyone else got an idea what any of this jargon could mean?"
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1d20 4



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Old 12-02-2016, 01:29 AM
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Earlier in the day...Drea had been sleeping on the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around something soft. Slight murmurs could be heard coming from her as shifted uncomforted by whatever it was she held.

Suddenly she sprung up, her eyes wide as she looked worriedly around the room. At every shadow she saw, she started, her breathing anxious as she worried over an invisible enemy. Then something else caught her eye.

Looking down, she sees the remarkable tattoo etched upon her skin. In her mind, she knows she has not a tattoo. So she tries to wipe it away. It will not remove. She rubs harder, it still remains. She begins to scratch at the tattoo, her breathing turning to groans of despair at the thing she does not want. And the then she begins to chant, as she tries in vain to rip the vile thing from her flesh. "Get it off. Get it off! Getitoffgetitoffgetitoof!!!"


Later in the day, at the table provided...Drea sulks at the table, likely sitting beside 'Momma', or as everyone else knows her, Anatha. She has a bandage around the tattoo, keeping Drea from harming herself further. She is barely listening, seemingly just looking at the broth set before her. A butterfly catches her eye at the window, and she tries to go to watch it.


 

 

 
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Old 12-02-2016, 08:38 AM
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Sunlight streamed into the room, lighting Anatha in a soft, golden glow, almost as if her God was smiling down on her. Still armored with her long curly red hair splayed out under her, it seemed she had a halo. She shifted in her sleep, her armor creaking. The sound of two dogs barking roused her. She felt groggy. She had never slept before. Elves never slept, they slipped into reverie. Alarmed at the revelation that she had been under a sleep spell strong enough to affect an elf, she sat up suddenly, staring around the unfamiliar room. Her eyes were wide and she uttered a prayer to Tyr, before she pushed herself up to her feet.

Unsteadily she stumbled to the water basin. Pulling off her gauntlets to wash her face, she noticed the strange tattoo on her arm. She looked at it, but couldn't recall anything about the symbols. It was odd, and not a thing she would normally have done to herself, even if she had spent a night drinking (which wasn't often). At first she tried to wash the symbols off, but they didn't budge. A panicked cry from another room sent her running. She pushed into the room without knocking as she found Drea trying to scratch the symbols from her skin. The paladin was alarmed that one of her dear friends had the mark as well... did they all have it?

"Drea... Drea, dearling," She said soothingly as she rushed to the girl's side. Though she was armored, she was quick to gather the panicking girl up in her arms and speak calm words to her. Once Drea calmed enough to let her, she applied the bandage to her arm to prevent her seeing the mark, let alone scratch at it.

"Do not think on it. Its just a mark, see? I have one too." She said showing her her ungauntleted hand and rolled up her sleeve to show her she had it as well. "Maybe one of the others knows something about it? Hmm? Let's go down and see them, shall we?"

***

Downstairs Anatha sat at the table beside Drea as Riv drew out the symbols for them all. "I'm not the intellectual sort," she admitted to the orc. "Do you have any idea what these could mean?" She asked as she took the paper copy from him. She left her gauntlets off and her sleeve rolled up, revealing the mark.

At her side, she noticed Drea's attention wander and put a gentle hand on her shoulder to encourage her to sit back down. "You may hunt the butterfly later, Dearling, we have 'boring' things to take care of first." She said using Drea's term for serious group talks.

She looked back down at her arm, comparing the mark to Riv's drawing. And it was quite accurate.
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Old 12-02-2016, 09:34 AM
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The sound of dogs barking woke Maera. She tried to roll over to get up from the corner where she had laid her head, but her legs felt as if they were still asleep, and her head was thumping. How much of that ale did I drink last night?! She thought to herself. She rubbed her eyes, and as they came into focus she noticed some dirt down her right arm. Absent-mindedly, she tried to brush it away, then the brushing became more insistent as she realised that it wasn’t dirt, but intricate ink marking her skin. What the… Maera glanced around the room; Riv, Drea and Anatha must have already headed down to breakfast. Ooh, breakfast...

The Halfling freshened up and made her way downstairs. As she did, images flashed before her eyes – dark skinned elves brandished large blades, and a huge floating monstrosity. Seriously, how much did I drink!? Maera thought to herself. And what did I eat? Because I sure has some crazy dreams last night!

Shaking the images free of her mind, Maera saw her friends at a table, heads close in deep discussion. She squeezed Drea’s hand as she sat next to her, and plonked her arm down next to Riv’s. She looked tiny next to the huge orc, but always felt safe in his shadow.

"Don’t tell me we all have these strange things? I thought I’d had too much ale and wandered off to get this done! Does anyone recognise any part of it?"


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Old 12-02-2016, 01:09 PM
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The common room of the Windlord's Rest was fairly busy on this day as the first four of the group came down the stairs and sat at a table. There was a barely suppressed aura of excitement hanging in the air. Snatches of conversation here and there soon revealed the reason why. King Azoun IV was paying a visit to Tilverton here on this day, and many of the people wished to get a sight of the king.

As far as Inns went, this one seemed to be fairly clean and tidy. There was none of the usual rowdiness that one would associated with an Inn situated here in the heart of Cormyr. Nor indeed was there a smoky, grimy atmosphere here. The people seemed calm, if a bit excited, and the tables were certainly clean and well-maintained. It seemed.....almost friendly. Behind the bar a brown-haired gnome polished and cleaned goblets whilst chatting to and serving the general populace.

From outside, the door swung open, and a gust of wind accompanied the newcomer into the common room. She was reasonably tall, with a shock of purplish-red hair coming down to her shoulders. Eyes of the colour of hazel witchwood stared into the room. She was dressed in leathers and attached to the holster at her waist were twin blades, both peace-bonded.


Although most of the people in the common room were well mannered and behaved, there was one man near to the door who had quite evidently had too much to drink and had let the ale get to him. As she walked past, the man reached out to her, slapping her rump. Turning around, the girl's arm shot out, grabbing the offending wrist. Twisting it sharply, the man, a shaven-haired disreputable looking fellow came out of his chair, going to his knees as he gasped in pain.

The purple haired girl glared, bringing herself in close as she whispered, "I'll let you off with your ignorance once....but if you do that again I'll snap your wrist in two. Understand me?"

The ruffian gasped his affirmation as she let him go. The man fell to the floor in a heap, rubbing his injured wrist and massaging his wounded pride as his fellows laughed at his misfortune.

Turning back, she raised her hand to greet the gnomish bartender.......and her eyes fell on Anatha, sleeve rolled back, studying her azure tattoo. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and her pretty features paled slightly. Words forgotten, she headed straight over to the table where the four were seated. Pulling a chair over with a loud screech, she sat down next to them uninvited. Reaching out, she grabbed Anatha's arm, pulling the sleeve back down as she hissed, "Cover that up unless you want to bring trouble down on your heads."

The girl continued to stare at Anatha intently, still holding her arm. "Those marks. Where did you get them?" Bringing her other hand up, she rolled Anatha's sleeve up slightly, revealing the first mark on the tattoo. A knife, surrounded by flame. Her features were expressionless as she added, voice cold, "You bear the mark of the Fire Knives. Who are you, and what is your allegiance to them? Answer me, quickly."

Her grip on Anatha's arm tightened as her eyes burned in almost feverish anticipation.

 
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Old 12-02-2016, 07:16 PM
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Riv barely noticed the commotion being made, guessing it was just some drunk patron having a disagreement. He was putting his journal away when he heard someone approach, rather quickly, and grab Anatha's arm. Hissing angrily at her and seemingly knowing a good deal about at least one of the marks on their new brands. Placing one hand on the edge of the table, out of view, his other hand grasped the large two-handed hammer propped against his leg, speaking in a low growl, "First, you're going to release her. Second, you're going to sit down and introduce yourself. Lastly, you're going to share what you know about that marking. Do anything else, and you won't live long enough to regret it."


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Old 12-03-2016, 09:30 AM
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As Anatha examined the mark the scuffle occurred across the room. Such a thing in a tavern was common and she paid it little mind. The young woman could clearly handle herself. Should the fool try to pursue her, then Anatha might get involved. Maera had come down and joined them and Anatha looked up at the halfling. "I think we are trying to figure out how we got these... one moment we were fighting drow and beholders... the next we are waking here. I can honestly say I've never slept before... it's been a disconcerting experience."

What happened next took her by complete surprise. The heckled woman came right over and grabbed her arm. Anatha made a source for of protest and tried to pull her arm away as the woman rolled her sleeve down. The woman spoke fast and quiet, gripping her arm tightly. Riv spoke up in her defense and threatened the woman. Anatha held her free hand up to her friend. " Peace. We don't want violence in... well... wherever we are." Then she looked to the young woman and pointed at the hand of Tyr emblazoned on her armor.

"I don't know what a fire knife is, but it sounds nefarious. A Hand of Tyr is a symbol of protection and justice. Our motto is 'Thou shall not get away with it', does that seem like someone who would willingly involve themselves in something illegal? As for this, we woke up with them. So, as my more educated friend says, please sit and tell us who you are and what you know about these symbols. I'll even buy you a drink. And you can keep holding my hand, if it makes you feel any better." She added with a reassuring smile.
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Old 12-03-2016, 01:51 PM
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Kyrié awakens slowly, her eyes feeling heavy and body strangely worn out. It was a rare thing that she actually slept, being an elf, but there were times when exhaustion and exertion was so great that simply reverie wouldn't suffice. It would seem the previous night would be just such an occasion. She closes her eyes as she tries to remember where she was last night, but nothing comes to her. It is about that time she notices she's in her armor, which certainly isn't right. Where was she last night? As she comes around her mind begins to awaken as well and she gathers enough of her wits to figure out that something is amiss. Rubbing her temple she focuses as best she can, thoughts that could be either memory or a vivid dream coming to her.

She remembers drow, that much is unmistakable. She's heard the stories of course, how does one not hear them as an elf? Betrayers, supporters of the demon queen, condemned to the darkness for their treachery. And yet she's only ever met one in her life, a charming drow woman who claimed to be a priestess of Eilistraee. She was in league with the Harpers, that much Kyrié knew, they crossed paths during an investigation in Westgate a year and a half ago. Kyrié was of course suspicious, if not hostile, but some trusted people vouched for her and despite the suspicion, hostility, and threats thrown her way she never stopped smiling. Not the sinister smile typically associated with the drow either, but a warm, friendly one. The two were forced to work together to stop a cult of Malar that was corrupting wild beasts in the nearby wood and sending them to attack villagers, and over the course of the adventure Kyrié's feelings went from distrust and hostility to friendship. The drow disappeared once their work was done, her duties and devotion calling her elsewhere, or who knows where things may have gone.

But she was clearly not one of the drow from her memory, and once the stroll down memory lane has ended the ranger tries to focus her thoughts again. A monstrous creature made of eyes, darkness, the pain in her side. Was it real? If so, why was she here in bed? Sitting up and running her hand through her hair she notices the tattoo on her arm, simply staring at it for several moments. She'd certainly had her share of drinking and carousing in the past, but this didn't feel like such a situation. The others were gone, her things were still in the room. She had questions but wasn't going to find them here. Lashing a leather archery bracery to her forearm to cover the marks up she gathers her things and heads downstairs just in time to see some sort of confrontation between Riv, Anatha, and a strange woman that instantly puts the ranger on edge.The two seem to have her well in hand, but curiosity prompts her forward.

Merely looking at the others gives her plenty of answers, she knows them well enough to read their expressions, some easier than others. "So it isn't just me then?" she asks, though her tone is a rhetorical one. The expressions she receives in return quite clearly answer the question, vague as it is. She looks at the woman with strange hair suspiciously, obviously she knows something. Even without asking anything more there is much about this situation that bothers her, which is unusual for the normally cheerful, even flighty ranger. But this is certainly an unusual situation. "I can see you're talking," she says to Riv, Anatha, and Maera. "I heard some dogs barking, I'm gonna go check on 'em," she says with a nod of her head, drumming her fingers on the table for a moment before moving over to the bar to grab a flagon of mead, some dried meat, and the end of a loaf of bread. "Add this to the room's tab? Thanks," she says to the gnome behind the counter as she takes her breakfast and heads outside. People might hide the truth, but animals never lie.
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Old 12-04-2016, 02:08 AM
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Drea frowns as Anatha places a hand upon her shoulder. "Yes, Momma." she says.

She's just about to stand again, when Maera comes to the table and gives her hand a gentle squeeze. Drea smiles at the Halfling, and settles back down for the moment. "No. Momma says Drea's not to look at it." she pouts, offering up her bandaged arm. "Drea thinks it's evil. Makes her arm itch."

The scuffle at the other side of the room draws Drea's attention away, even from Maera. She smiles with a satisfaction as the small purple girl twists the ugly man's arm. Then with an ugly look of her own, purple girl walks straight toward them.

Fearing purple girl's anger, Drea pulls out her Arcane Focusred crystal, and begins chanting under her breath. "Trína chéile cailín corcra, teacht ar bith eile. Nó beidh tú blas fearg Drea ar."
 

Only thing left is for Drea to fling the darts of magic out. But she holds back, waiting and watching even as Purple Girl takes Anatha's arm rudely.

Drea begins to growl deep from her throat as Riv begins to threaten Purple Girl. But as Momma seems to have it well in hand, Drea stops and let's the spell dissipate into nothingness. She then climbs over the table and sits beside Purple Girl, looking up at her. "She is Purple Girl. Purple Girl, this is Momma's hand. That is Riv. He looks mean, but he's smart. And the cute one is Maela." She looks around the room, and sees Kyrié coming down the stairs. "And that one's Kyrié. She's woodsey."

Kyrié comes to the table, says something about dogs, and then heads to the bar after only a moment. Drea looks back at the others, sees the tension still there, and hops up before Momma can stop her. "I'll go with Kyrié." She stops at the bar as well. "Meat, Mister Gnome." she says. Then after getting it, she'll follow Kyrié's example. "Tab it!" and follow the Wood Elf outside.

 

 

 
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Old 12-04-2016, 02:41 PM
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Talia looks over to the orc and scowls. In the background, at the bar, the gnomish bartender shakes his head. He wears a worried expression on his face as he calls over to her, "Lass. Stand down. Not here. Not today of all days. You'll bring the imperials down upon us."

She smiles, a tight-lipped expression, and then she nods herself, acknowledging the orc. "Looks like its your lucky day. No-one wants trouble with the King in town. It appears that I have forgotten my manners. I am Talia Shadowmist. Do not, however, threaten me. You're not the only one handy with a weapon. Oh, and you might want to get that peace-bonded." She gestures down to her own twin blades strapped and peace bonded to her waist. "Carrying that around unbonded is likely to get you arrested....or worse."

It was only at that point that the murmurs of conversation began again, the threat of violence averted. The locals had been collectively holding their breaths, expecting and anticipating violence.

She smirks as she turned the chair round that she had brought round. Her next words were a whisper so others couldn't overhear, "Not that you're going to last long anyway, openly displaying the mark of an assassins guild on your arm." Glancing to Anatha, she let go of her arm. Sitting astride the chair facing its back, she leaned on it as she looked to Anatha. "I don't know. You have the look of one of those goody two-shoes holy warriors, but I find the whole concept of someone tattooing the mark of an assassins guild on your arm without you approving of it a little hard to swallow."

Talia sighs as she looks to the group one by one. An attractive elf lady came to join them for a short time, before leaving out the back. The strange girl crawled over the table to sit next to her momentarily before disappearing after the elf, but not before giving names to them. Looking a bit befuddled, Talia glances back to Riv, asking, "Is she ok? She seems a little.....odd."

Nodding to Anatha, Talia grins, "I'll take you up on that drink, may I?" Without waiting for a response, she takes Anatha's hand, rolling back her sleeve again to expose the tattoo's. She points to the first, the dagger encircled in flame. "Fire Knives. Me and them, we have a history with each other." Judging by the scowl on her face, this "history" wasn't a particularly pleasant one. "They are a guild of assassins recently based out of Westgate. Until they uprooted and relocated here in Cormyr."

Looking to Anatha, Talia smiles. "And you're in Tilverton, thank you very much." She sighs and rolls her eyes. "I guess if you are assassins, then you're the worlds worst assassins to wear your colours so openly. Which tells me then that if you're not assassins, then you're in way over your head in something."

Glancing over the others, Talia shakes her head. None of them were recognisable to her, except..... She hisses, pointing to the third symbol, the black Z embossed within a dark arrow. "Zhentarim. You *are* in deep trouble. And you truly don't know anything about how you got these?"

Letting go of Anatha's hand, she looks to the others.

***

Outside, Kyrie finds the two dogs, followed by Drea. The sun was starting to rise over the horizon now. It was mid-morning, and there was a bite in the air. Autumn was about to fall on the land of Cormyr, and the blazing heat of summer was past, to be replaced by the cool, crisp air of the fall.

Even in this brief sojourn outside of the Inn, something was very obvious to the two. There was an air of excitement around the people of this village. The locals scurried about their business, but there was an aura of nervous anticipation. It could be seen in the way they acted, the way they moved, the way they spoke. The cobblestone ladened streets were full of people. And in the distance, the halls of a great, gleaming temple could be seen rising over the houses.

The dogs were not hard to find. By the side of the Inn, a wooden fence separated the main street and a small yard by the side. Inside the enclosed space, two dogs were yipping and barking excitedly. Brown mastiff's, the two of them seemed very excitable as they ran about, wagging their tails. Their eyes gleamed brightly as they stared at Kyrie and Drea.
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Old 12-04-2016, 02:54 PM
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Upon awakening that morning
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Eyes still closed, Wilcorin grimaces at the sound of the dogs barking. Filthy blaggards, have they no sense? Some of us might not exactly be rising with the roosters this morning! he thinks to himself, his head pounding. A tad too many libations last night, it seems...

A crash from outside causes him to open his eyes as he giggles slightly. [size="1]"Seems I wasn't the only fellow sick of them this morn, eh?"[/size] he says softly to himself. Rubbing his eyes as he still lies prone, he suddenly recalls the strange dream he had. Black skinned elves armed with vicious looking weaponry ambushing him, with some strange looking creature with eyes, teeth, and tentacles. Remind me to never let the man behind the counter pick the next one, aye?" he scolds himself. It seems too outlandish to be true.

Raising himself up heavily, Wilcorin groans as he tries to immediately smooth down his hair. Scratching his right arm, he feels a strange sensation of something unusual. Pulling back his sleeves, he audibly gasps. "What in the flaming toad toes is this???" He rushes over to the sunlight streaming into the window and pulls his sleeve all the way back. Judging them to be arcane symbols of some kind, he
Dice Arcana check:
1d20+5 (11)+5 Total = 16
tries to recall if he has ever seen them before in his studies. Wizard sigils, from the looks of it. From five different, and undoubtedly powerful, wizards or groups of wizards. Visibly frazzled, he immediately gets to work tidying his appearance up before reporting downstairs to the others. As he puts the finishing touches on his mustache with his wax, Wilcorin feels a chill as he suddenly realizes his dream seems to have been reality...


Meeting downstairs
After receiving a chair pillow from the innkeeper so he could sit normally at the table with the others, Wilcorin plops down in the chair and shakes his head in confusion. The usually ravenous gnome is surprisingly not hungry this morning - a cup of tea and some biscuits is all he requests. He thanks Riv for the drawing, and muses on it briefly once again before folding it up and tucking it safely into his pocket. He dunks a biscuit in his tea and stirs it around slightly before taking a bite of it. When Riv asks his question, Wilcorin gulps down his biscuit and says "Most I can tell is they are what we call in the wizarding world "sigils." Symbols of magical power associated with certain wizards or groups. In this case, five different ones. Can't be too certain meself but I'd love to get a look at some books and really dig deep into them, see what else we can uncover. The fact we all seem to be victims of this strange little art session makes me a tad nervous, don't you agree?"

Seeing the fresh bandage on Drea's arm, he narrows his eyes slightly in concern and says "Are you all right too, Drea? Why are you wearing a bandage like that? Is yours different from ours?" He exchanges a concerned look with Anatha, who does not seem as concerned as he, and wonders if he has intruded on some personal matter. Clearing his throat and tugging on his mustache in slight embarrassment, he instead focuses once again on eating his biscuits.


Arrival of the strange woman
At first, Wilcorin is a bit caught off guard by the strange woman pulling up her chair and suddenly grabbing Anatha's arm. He briefly considers introducing a blast of fire to the woman's perky little nose but she seems to actually know of what the symbol means. "The Fire Knives?" he wonders, upon hearing her mention the name. She seems a bit strange, an aggressive sort, but her hair was quite lovely despite her otherwise mean demeanor. Briefly mulling on the possibilities of how she got it such a shade, he composes himself and asks in a low tone "So how do you know so much about these Fire Knives? And why in the name of the god would we suddenly be adorned with their marks?" Hesitating slightly, Wilcorin continues "I...I had a dream...or maybe it was real...of us being kidnapped by drow. With some strange, fanged eye tentacled creature behind them..."
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Old 12-04-2016, 04:16 PM
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Riv didn't let this information go to waste, scribbling it down in his journal after he set his hammer down. He wasn't goign to voice it, but he knew that this strange woman by the name of Talia was right about peace-bonding his weapons. He wasn't going to let her have that minor victory though. With half of the marks deciphered, he wanted to know more, but had the feeling she was goign to divulge that info in good time. No one approaches a group of armed individuals without wanting something themselves.

"We already figured out it wasn't a dream, Wilcorn." Riv comments with a tired sigh. "We ALL had the same thing happen to us. That's not a coincidence, or simply a dream." He looked back to Talia. "And no, we aren't hired blades. We have larger goals in mind than just killing for money. I want to know why you're still talking to us. You clearly know these markings are a very bad sign. But you're sticking around having breakfast instead of getting away as quick as you can."


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Old 12-04-2016, 04:46 PM
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Upon awakening that morning
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Snorting at Riv's comments, Wilcorin twiddles his wand underneath the table. A large pile of steaming dung Minor Illusionsuddenly appears on Riv's journal. "Quit being such a dungheap, Riv," quips the gnome, "I'm only sharing what we know so far with our purple haired acquaintance here. The more she knows of what happened to us, the more she might be able to tell us."

Smoothing out his mustache, he gives Talia a wide grin and does a slight bow while still sitting on his cushion. "Forgive my manners as well. Wilcorin Stashtwizzle at your service. I must ask - do you know what part these drow fellows would play in all this? By the way, I quite enjoy the color of your hair. Tell me, how do you do it? Berries, perhaps? Or a lavender mixture, maybe?"
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Old 12-04-2016, 05:55 PM
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They suspected something more. Of course they did. Because, as Riv had said so eloquently, any right minded person would have wanted to get as far away from them as possible. Talia sighs, more in resignation than anything else.

"Beyond the last couple of months, my memory of events is sketchy," Talia began, launching into a subject that at first glance was very different from the one that was being discussed. "I can remember the last couple of weeks as clear as anythimg. Before that, I can remember my early childhood. I can remember my youth. However, there is a big gap between my youth and the events of the last fortnight. I'd like, very much, to know who did this to me and why."

Talia slid up her sleeve to reveal the same azure tattoo on her arm. The difference with hers was that where Riv, Wilcorin and the others had five brands, she simply had one at the base of the tattoo. A single blossoming red rose quite unlike any of the other markings on the others arms.

"And secondly......" She nods to Wilcorin. "........the Fire Knives have taken something very precious from me. I want vengeance, and you, for whatever reason, bear their mark. One way or another, you're going to lead me to them and then I'm going to burn their guild down around them."

When the small pile of dung appears on Riv's journal, Talia raises an eyebrow but other than glancing over at Wilcorin, does not outwardly react to the magic. Instead she shakes her head, "I don't know about any Drow, but what I will say is If theyre mixed up with this, you're in over your heads. You need all the help you can get and I, by helping you, help myself in turn."

The last question though caught her flat footed. Talia blushes furiously at the question and stammers in response, "I.....uhhh......purple elderberries and a spellcasting friend..... Ummm, so.....your moustache. How do you get it so curly?"
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