Jethro eyed the testy barbarian with something of a grin on his face, apparently he hadn't been used to being kept waiting. He seemed to imagine himself to be some great hero already, to the gnome he just looked like a bratty kid, couldn't be much more than a teenager Jethro thought to himself, almost smiling at his own arrogance: as far as Gnomes went he himself was just out of his teenage years. Despite being two feet shorter than him, Jethro held brief fantasies of picking a fight with this narcissistic young man, it wouldn't be so easy to eliminate Jethro as it seemed. And yet something about this half-elf appealed to him, perhaps it was the overconfidence that they shared. Jethro grinned, they both were sure of themselves. Sure that they were right... no mater what anybody else said. This almost seemed to be a selling point to Jethro and yet the racism that drove this man's actions was slightly excessive. Whether Bearspaw, as he was called, had travelled or not he couldn't have learned much with the closed-mindedness that guided him.
"Almyrikon, we were called here together and we will decide this together. You are not better than any other member called to this room though you seem so convinced otherwise. This mission is not your own, blood-relative or otherwise. We will hear from the heir and decide how to carry out our actions regarding the will's demands only after decisions regarding who shall go have been made. If you don't want to be involved with all of us, don't be involved at all. Whatever nobility or leadership you held in another life we are equals here and must work together to stop whatever evil has plagued the man we are mutually related and involved in." Jethro spoke with a charismatic ferocity that was not agressive and did not challenge but appealed to Almyrikon, with an equal intensity as the half-elf seemed to have.
Damn it all! Jethro thought to himself. Now I've really done it, committed myself to involvement!
Kannizan eyed the gnome with great curiosity. It wasn't every day that you met a gnome that had passion like that. He liked what the gnome had said. He liked him saying "If you don't want to be involved with all of us, then don't be involved at all." He thought it summed up the point quite nicely. He pulled up his belt a little bit. "So, we've got quite a collection of skills here. Hey, gnome, what was your name again, I missed that part?"
"Grr... You'll learn your place. Both of you." Almyrikon fumed, though he did remain quiet. Looking around, he moves over to the two who he had singled out earlier, and waits, though he gives an evil glare at the gnome. The barbarian perfectly resembles a bear, living up to his name. "So when do we avenge the dead king?"
"Wasn't the whole point of coming here to find out who was the heir? Whoever killed the killer was to be the heir, wasn't it?" Almyrikon's eyes narrow, as he begins to wonder why he came. That wizard had lied to him... and now he would pay if he wasn't correct.
It was once again up to the cleric to play peacemaker.
"My friends... please cease your banter. It appears that the living heir has been found, and we as volunteers are to aid. I am not sure as to the legal customs of this... city, but I do know that we have a task to complete.
Let those who are tied down by need of payment, money or other compensation leave, and let those whose motivation is more deep remain and begin to plot our raid on the manor."
Ether looked to Maranda, his elvish features even more accented in the presence of so many half-elves, and waited for her to say something, having the Lords of Waterdeep deemed her heir.
Shevarash was guiding him to this point for revenge. A test, perhaps, of working with those unaffiliated with his order. Maybe to see how well he can work an impromptu skirmish.
Even if he remained the sole suvivor, he had no need for a mansion. Ether was in this for the thrill, for the mission, and for the spiritual quest.
Funny, Jethro thought to himself, he actually liked the group, as much as they argued and disagreed. Each had a quality which if molded properly could perhaps yield a skill that shone brightly and Jethro could find a home in that, he could do well, benefit quite nicely from working with these people, if only for a short time (as it appeared most of his affairs with others were).
The dwarf appeared to sum up his thoughts aptly: a collection of skills indeed. He did not seem to be a keen follower and yet, Jethro could forgive him that the words had been vomited out in a dry, uninterested air - apparently not the most charismatic of men... or he intended the failure of the group, which Jethro wouldn't be surprised by. After all, he'd be doing the same in that situation he reminded himself.
Almyrikon did care enough about Shallagh in the end to heed Jethro's words, perhaps with the support of Kannizan and the silence of the group but Jethro was encouraged to think he could seat a Barbarian king with his words despite his stature. And yet Bearspaw had not managed to actually comprehend what Jethro had said, it was the heir's decision in the end how they would go about what followed duly. He atleast was not required to explain it once more and could neatly return to his seat to watch the bickering continue.
Indeed the Barbarian's brains did not match his muscles for he had not even managed to catch that Maranda was the heir in the end, it was not another case of inattentiveness it seemed to Jethro but imbecility and yet Jethro did not care. There was bigger issues, if everyone could understand and agree they could begin on doing what needed to be done to overthrow the Keep's unlawful usurpers.
Now this cleric! He was certainly interesting, Jethro found him fascinating in his balance of orderly organization and eager passion to fulfill what was set before him. A sense of purpose guided this man, whether it was misguided or not, he had a path to follow and Jethro was curious to this man. Jethro could hide what interest he had in gaining money out of this. And yet, it seemed Jethro was hiding his complete disinterest in monetary gain from himself, disguising his hunger to satisfy the plentitude of questions he had with a facade of greed. Excusing his curiousity with the possibility of pay. He kept his thoughts silent however and simply nodded with the cleric. What worlds they would so quickly learn of each other once on the road. The dimensions of men were so much deeper, os much more many-leveled than the simplifications that were highlighted over tables, discussing these matters.
Leaning towards Kannizan, Jethro smiled a charming and yet dangerous and tough smile, whispering "I'm Jethro master Kannizan pleased to make your acquaintance it appears we have certain similarities in thought patterns." It always helps to have an ally Jethro told himself, what he would not admit was that he liked the dwarf. He would not confess that perhaps that strong and alluring smile had shone also from his eyes.
The shock had been quite prevalent within the young woman. Her father had used the fact of her lineage as a bed time story when she was younger. Only now, she realized he was boasting the promise of a better life. Would it be though?
Maranda had been very comfortable in her little cottage in the woods. She would hunt and skin, sell what she didn't need from her kills. More recently she had been making quite a sum off the bounty of bear heads. The beasts had become overpopulated and a good hunter could make quite a bit for herself.
The city had overwhelmed her as well. She could track a cougar through a thicket, but finding her way around these mass of streets... not a chance. It was a godsend that they had been escorted to their business. And now she had been named the heir.
It was as good as a death sentence. Illusion. She had known of illusion from the tricks of the fairy folk that roamed the forests of Neverwinter. It was nothing to be trifled with. More worrisome was the fact that whatever had assaulted the keep was either immune or beyond the magics of Maranda's ancestor. It was mentioned that he was good at his vocation. If in less words.
She was a good shot, that she was sure of. Maranda had hunted since she was a teenager, following in her father's footsteps. The red eyed beast that was mentioned was an intrigue. If this creature survived the turmoil, it may break free of it's masters and ravage the countryside. It was a ranger's duty to keep the woods safe, or as safe as possible.
She had been standing, too eager to sit while the magistrate had been introducing them. The first few names brushed past her unclinging. She was spacing, considering the adventures to come, and missing home as though she hadn't known it for many years. Before she knew it, people had been discussing and pledging and bickering. The elven one who seemed akin to her occupation began to stare at her, with his grim mockery of expression. The barbarian yelled about this and that. Jethro and Velina as well seemed to be in agreement that the heir need speak on the behalf of the group.
Maranda gulped. They seemed eager to get going, and here she was contemplating hiding under a table. It wasn't the fear of death, or of combat. She wasn't fond of the thought that she might be leading this many strangers into melee.
"So... ummmm... We're all agreed to go then?"
Posted on 2008-12-23 at 21:02:14.
Edited on 2008-12-23 at 21:02:53 by Zodius
"Aye! Let's go, and mash these people, or things, or whatever! We'll make them scream for what they did! I like the sound of this!" Flexing his muscles as one might stretch theirs, and making his arms as thick as a gnome, he hefted his axe in one hand and rested it on his shoulder. "Show me where to go. I'll take it from there."
Gunk-karg watched the whole room fall into disarray as the barbarian stormed in, almost breaking the door. He almost fell backwards in his chair but caught himself and sat on all fours again, and laughed as the barbarian yelled this and that for no reason, saying he's been waiting for ever. What an air of arrogance this man had about him, and Gunk-karg would of loved to beat it out of him, especially when he said something about putting people in their place. But that thought faded and he watched silently as the others talked and talked. This is what he as best at, listening and this is how he usually made his living.
Gunk-karg watched the woman who was the heir as she talked, obviously nervous. She spoke out asking if we were ready, and the dwarf next agreed that he was ready.
slapping both open hands on the table making a loud slapping noise and standing, Gunk-karg also agreed.
" There is wealth to be made on this trip, and who knows what we could run into as we travel. We should stop all this jabbering and finally get a move out."
Gunk-karg reaches down for his great sword and slings it over his shoulder, and adjusts the eye patch over his right eye, revealing for a moment the empty socket underneath. He tapped his tusk for a moment, wiped off his bald head and adjusted his leather bound chain shirt, making sure everything was ready for the adventure to come.
Posted on 2008-12-23 at 23:05:38.
Edited on 2008-12-23 at 23:09:18 by Jozan1
"So you guess we are all going?" Velina shook her head. "That is the best you can come up with as the supposed leader of this little expedition?
It seemed those who were most eager to go were those who planned and thought the least. She was not sure that this undertaking was a good idea but she really didn't want to go back to her "training" and this would give her an excuse to try her skills for real instead of in an acedemic setting.
Discussions, opinions, points-of-view, and tempers began flying amost as soon as the Magister had closed the door.
The bear-totem-toting chieftain of the northern tribe called for the heir and the duskblade to meet with him outside the Magister's office, then stormed back in in a fit of impatience when they didn't follow him out immediately.
The duskblade, for her part, had questions, but did not openly oppose or withdraw from the task at hand. Long and serious thought about what she heard atound her led to her voicing her inclusion. She looked forward to her skills being tested in unfamiliar territory.
After his initial confusion as to the content of the meeting, the dwarf of the Stonesunder clan realized that humans conducted their meetings by reasoning and rules that differed from those of the dwarven clanmasters. A moment's thought was all it took for the jumbled pieces of the puzzle to fall into place for him, and he committed himself in typical solid dwarven fashion.
The half-orcish late-comer was silent only until he whished to make an opinion known. Atypically, though, he did not speak in anger, nor did he belittle anyone else when he did speak. He made it known that his reasons for going were his own, and not because of any loyalty.
The gnome listened and contributed to the conversation, smiling all the while. He was openly amused at the interactions, but also interested in the loose cohesion of disparate personalities that he noticed was already forming. It indicated possible success in the face of the odds.
The cleric, ever the diplomat, also had his own reason for comtting himself. Altruistic? Maybe. Personal? Possibly. Regardless of personal justificaction, within him was also the general interest in seeing a wrong righted, whether by himself or as a member of a group of interacting individuals.
The heir to the estate, the only pure human in the gathered group, was silent, uneasy, warring internally within herself to decide whether or not she was ready for this. Would it place her in a role of leadership she would rather not have? Did she want the responsibility of the lands and title to which she was now -- surprisingly -- the heir? She wanted time to think this out, but didn't have that luxury. The magister would return, and she must have an answer of some sort for him. And so she asked the gathering, breaking her nervous silence.
"So... ummmm... We're all agreed to go then?"
Almost as if that question were his cue, the Magister re-enterd the office with a light smile on his face and four slender tubes of tightly-rolled parchments in one hand. He strode to his desk and seated himself, laying the parchment tubes to one side. It could be seen tht the tubes were all bound with metal rings, each of a different metal: copper, brass, iron, and silver. Once seated, he waited calmly until the conversation ceased and silence once again reigned in the room.
"So. Maranda, are you satisfied that all present have agreed to aid you to procure your inheritance?"
[[ The following assumes she answers in the affirmative. If not, I'll edit and/or backpost as necessary ... ]]
"VEry well, then. First, this is the map requested of the area in which the keep is reputed to be located." Magister Seedius holds up the parchment tube with the copper band, then puts it down again. Picking up the tube with the silver band on it, he slides the band off and unrolls the parchment that was bound by it. "The Lords of waterdeep have asked that I read this brief statement from them. He clears his throat, then reads the following:
"We, the Council of Lords, offer a few thoughts to the Heir of the Estate of Shallagh Gann: Although it is quite possible that you soon may hold the title of your deceased relative, as of yet you do not hold that honor. You would be wise to remember that until that is accomplished, you should not attempt to make demands of others by right of position you do not yet hold. If successful, those with you are as responsible for that success as yourself. They will not forget it. Nor should you.
For all of you who have come together to execute the terms of the will of Shallagh Gann, as stated, our thought is this. Your methods will be as varied as your skills. Therein lies your strength, no less than it is with ourselves ...
All of you have our good wishes for your quest."
Placing the parchment aside, he reaches to open a drawer in the desk and pulls out seven small leather bags. One by one, he drops each on the desk. Each bag lands with the audible and unmistakable clink of coin inside them. Then he rose, picked up the map, and rounded the desk, handed it to Maranda He then turned back to the desk and began tossing one of the bags to each of the gathered group.
"It seems that the deceased had a certain amount of foresight. Also documented is that each of those who volunteer or accompany the heir in the quest to rid the keep of those who now occupy it should receive the sum of one hundred gold coins to aid them in the preparation for the venture. That is the amount in each sack."
The voucher for your stay at the Fifth House Inn is good for another five days. From here on, all decisions must be made by you, the gathered group, or by a designated spokesperson, in regards to your actions. But I cannot stress enough that you use as many of the thirty days left to you aa you can to accomplish your goal.
Good luck on your quest !!"
[[ Okay, folks, it begins. Lay out your plans, discuss, ask questions, etc. (no "whatever" actions" or running amok, please). I know the holiday season is upon us, so I woo't expect posts until they show ...
Looking forward to some fun with this game, from you and me both ... ]]
Posted on 2008-12-24 at 07:51:07.
Edited on 2008-12-27 at 18:03:34 by Wyrmsting
Jethro turned to the heir, staring into her blank, dazed eyes. It seemed as the arguing had whirled around her she had descended into a world of contemplation and shock. Well, she had made it obvious she was not a people person, Jethro thought to himself and very unlikely an apt leader of a group which was tearing itself apart before it had anything to destroy. It was heavy with arrogance and ignorance Jethro thought to himself, confessing with a certain smugness to at least one of those traits.
"So... ummmm... We're all agreed to go then?" Whether or not Maranda could fight Jethro could not tell but it seemed she could not fight in a group. Jethro silently admitted that he too had never fought in a group though he was often welcomed and well-liked by strangers.
Bearspaw was typically blood lusty and unsurprisingly cocky. Jethro would like to see him in battle, he would be an asset indeed but seeing the skills of those around him Jethro had a feeling that he wouldn't stand out as much as he thought. Each were adept it seemed, if in a diversity of ways.
So many over eager people, Jethro was unnerved by the impulsiveness. In the middle of combat, such hotheadedness got men killed. With his tribe they always over-planned a con, knowing the ins and outs of every place they ever robbed and now it seemed he had been caught in the middle of a group which was prepared to run screaming mad into any hellhole.
What an arrogant group Jethro thought to himself as Velina shook her head disapprovingly, reproaching Maranda, So you guess we are all going? That is the best you can come up with as the supposed leader of this little expedition?" And yet something drove her in some way committing herself to the service of a woman she seemed to hold little respect for.
"No one, especially not herself, elected Maranda leader of the group. Simply because she has been put in the position to make initial choices for the group, once we are all committed to quest together, thrusting this responsibility upon her, without discretion or discernment seems harmful and cruel to the party and to her. Our group will not function if each member does not contribute the little they can from what skills they've acquired from the time they've spent upon this land, you will witness deterioration and danger, risking death." Jethro had more to say but let the message ring in their ears there, sitting back in his chair.
There had been agreement. It seemed as though this would be heir had allies. Though, Maranda didn’t think for a second that all of these people were trustworthy. If they made the deadline and indeed earned that which was entitled to her, she would likely have to divide much of her estate to quell the “needs” of the others. There were those of them who seemed more about the good deed than the reward, the elf for one. And though Maranda had felt the chastising tone that went along with the contemptuous glare, she felt as though Velina’s motives were less of greed and more of... something she could not settle on. Perhaps because Velina was somewhat unsettling to her in the first place. Moreso, than the barbarian, and the one eyed thug. Maranda had dealt with these types in the past. At least she could understand blatancy. As for Jethro, she earnestly wanted to like the gnome. He seemed well spoken and confident. Qualities she was lacking. She disagreed with him in one respect though...
“I know,” she paused briefly to let her mind catch up with her mouth, nibbling on her lower lip as it did, “that I may not be the most experienced, but respectfully, if this is done and I remain amongst the living, then I’ll be the heir. I’m hoping to fairly accommodate those of you remaining with whatever it is I actually acquire, but in the end, though we all seem resigned, this is my quest. In that way I don’t suppose you are correct in your wise words Mister Jethro. I’ve not been elected leader, I’ve been predestined. Of course I need help, and I need the intellect and strength provided by all of you. I’m ready for this... no matter the cost.”
She instinctively grabs hold of the lacquered wood of her bow, rubbing her thumb across the smooth surface as she searches the eyes of her to be comrades. ‘I’m not wrong,’ she thinks to herself, ‘this is my responsibility. My destiny waiting to be unfolded.’ Maranda had been quite content with her life before all of this commotion began. However she wasn’t the type to ignore fate. There was more to become, more good to be done, a grander scheme.
Green eyes now more inquisitive than confused lit up on her pale face, pondering what the next step would be. “What shall we do first? I don’t know about the rest of you but I believe I’m equipped for the journey. It might be fortuitous to leave as soon as possible. Our main problem is that the location of this keep is unknown, and a trek through the forest is always tedious, and often dangerous. We’ll need as many days as we can spare to accomplish this task. It may also be possible to come up with a plan easier when we are in the environment in question.”
Almyrikon furrows his brow a bit as Maranda speaks. Right after she's done he says. "Well, I know one thing we could do first. Stop using bloody big words! I aint got a clue what fortituos means, or tideous." He struggles to even remember the words correctly.
"But, if I got what I think I did from that talk, I'm ready to go through a forest too.