Weave Master Role Play

[Cort Thundershot]

As the seats of the meeting room filled, the Exarch took his place in front of his gathered friends.

"Our first order of business this evening will be introductions. Our numbers grow rapidly, and it is paramount that we know each other well. I will go first."

After Elias introduced himself, he called out the assembly one by one. Each introduced themselves in their own fashion, some coming to the front, and others standing for only a brief few seconds. As some finished, the Exarch added a word here and there when he felt it appropriate.

When all were finished, the mage smiled as he spoke. "Now, we move on to those who have earned new ranks, my favorite part of these events. Ivaris, please join me up front my friend."

Knowing already the honors that would be bestowed, Dajala and the others could not help but smile.

"Ivaris Alomane, your dedication to the Weavemasters and Mystra have earned you the title of Guardian Defender of the Weavemasters. They have earned you as well the honor of being chosen as our new Captain of the Weave Guardians."

After the applause and cheers died down, the new Captain spoke to the assembly. "I will do my best to serve you all. As it is a Captain's duty to serve as well as lead.Thank you Exarch for this great honor."

As Ivaris moved to sit, Elias then called Dajala Silverleaf to stand with him.

"Dajala Silverleaf, at your request, you will hold no ranking title within our order. You will now serve as Doron Amar's ambassador to the Weavemasters. You will still have full rights within our order, access to the tower, and the right to keep your guardian."

After bowing to each other Dajala kindly thank the Exarch and moved to her seat, smiling the entire time.

To his utter surprise, Nadrion Ted'wa of Evermeet was the next to be called to stand. As he moved to stand beside the Exarch, all could sense his nervousness.

"Nadrion Ted'wa, you have chosen to serve our order in the capacity of a Guardian, even though you knowledge of the Art is considerable. It is an honorable decision that you have made. Your martial skill, and knowledge of the art combined, show me that you have outgrown the rank of Attendant. Therefore, everyone please welcome our new Guardian Sentry, Nadrion Ted'wa."

The elf spoke quietly before returning to his seat. "I will do my best to serve this order as a Guardian."

Then the Exarch smiled, and motioned to Volo. With a surprised grin, he quickly moved to the front of the assembly.

"Volomirror, your scouting reports have not gone unnoticed. Your service as the eyes and ears of our order is to be rewarded today. You have earned the title of Scout Seeker of the Weavemasters my friend."

Both men, and many of those gathered were grinning as Volo voiced his thanks to Elias before returning to his seat.

"For those of you who did not receive promotion, rest assured that it will come with time. It is merely a matter of those who watch to see your skill and devotion to the order."

The remainder of the meeting was filled with talk of alliances, reports, and general refreshing of the Weavemaster tenets for the new members.

[Maecius]

A letter arrives at the Istari Tower. It is addressed to Exarch Elias Goodmane, and it is hand-delivered by a soldier of the Flaming Fist. It is apparently from Duke Eltan. Elias, by now, is probably aware -- even before opening it -- that this can't be good. The letter reads:

Exarch Elias Goodmane:

I have three of your own in my prison tonight: a Moric A'ren, a Sylvia Ducet, and a Chance Ducet. Do you know why they are sitting in their cells right now? It is because they interfered with a lawful execution, threatened one of my soldiers, attempted to flee and resist arrest, and spoke ill of the Flaming Fist.

Do I need to remind you -- so soon after our last meeting at the Duchal palace -- that this sort of behavior will not be taken in good stride or easy humor by the rulers of this city? Your people will be freed in the morning, but I expect that they will be less disruptive of our laws in the future. Or, if they are not, I at least expect that they will not be wearing the uniform of your organization while they slander and threaten the protectors of Baldur's Gate.

Eltan, Duke of Baldur's Gate

There is no sign-off or formal farewell -- just a terse signature and the Duchal seal, as is Eltan's austere style. The handwriting, like everything else about the letter, is straight to the point, with neither calligraphy nor flourish.

[VanillaRose]

An elegant silver envelope arrives at Istari Tower bearing the name "Exarch Elias Goodmane" on its exterior. The letter contained within the envelope is written in a feminine, left-handed script. It reads as follows:

Dear Exarch Goodmane,

A dwarven gentleman in my employ, Bregg, would like to speak to you regarding the Weavemasters. While I know that no formal recommendations are required, I would like to vouch for Bregg's diligence and work ethic. He is an arcanist, and while I am sure his talents are commendable, I feel he would benefit the Weavemasters with his loyalty and camaraderie while receiving additional tutelage.

I know that you stay busy, but I would greatly appreciate it if you could take the time to speak with Bregg regarding the Weavemasters.

Cordially,

~Selis Vhaire

[Tuk-Tuluk]

*tuk opens the silver envelope which was left on the floor nearby Elias private quarters* m-maybe a-an invit-tation? uhmmm.. *reads it out loud enough to hear himself. As he finishes reading, he is left suprised* Lady S-selis a-a reccomendation? Ma-aybe this not for tuk.. tuk b-better h-hide no one finds.. that t-tuk opened it.. *he stuffs the letter into his pocket and goes back to his weavemaster room*

[broham1]

Perched high on the balcony of Istari Tower sits a magnificant specimen of an owl. The purest white from head to tail, the owl hoots awaiting someone to come out from within.

Secured to his body is a harness made of thinly woven fibers. On closer inspection they seem to me metal of some kind. Light and strong. Attached to the harness is a scroll tube. A message is contained within...

//PM sent.

[Cort Thundershot]

Hearing the noise Elias steps out onto Istari's balcony. Both the owl and the Exarch tilt their heads as they enter each other's vision. The mage cannot help but smile as he scratches between the owl's eara and removes the scroll from it's tube. Once the messenger is on it's way, he eagerly makes his way to his private quarters to read the delivered scroll.

[g1megatron]

A new statue adorns the entry hall to the weave master tower. It is in the form of an angel, hands covering it's eyes as though weeping.

Those who stay and study in the tower often notice that on occasion the magical orbs that light the facility dim or blink out only to return soon after.

Rumors go about how the statue was found in the sewers, surrounded by oozes.

Those who remember what it looked like when it arrived, may think their eyes were playing tricks on them as it's former blemishes and chips seem to have completely disappeared in the matter of hours.

[g1megatron]

Rumors float about of flickering lights in the Istari tower, magical experiments gone wild.

Some speculate it had to do with the statue that was brought to the tower; what has become of this statue is unknown.

[Cort Thundershot]

The early morning haze still clung to the cobblestone streets as Elias made his way to Mystra's temple. The vendor's stalls stood empty, as the sun was still hours from making it's appearance along the eastern horizon. As he neared the temple, the mage removed his hat, and pushed on the door that swung open easily to offer him admittance.

Once inside, the mage quietly knelt at the altar to offer his daily prayers to the Lady of Magic. He knew that the temple priestess was aware of his entry, and that she would see to him as soon as she was ready. Elias was still jolted out of his meditative prayers at the lady's voice.

"You're up early Elias. To what do we owe the pleasure of this very early morning visit?" The priestess's voice was soft, yet seemed to echo in the nearly empty room.

Elias stood and bowed low in respect for the head of Mystra's local clergy.
"Greetings Maria, it is always a pleasure. I've come to ask that you lend your considerable knowledge of the divine to Istari's aid this morning. To offer my daily prayers as well of course."


The woman grinned as she turned from Elias and went about organizing the offerings around the altar. "You are fortunate that your charm outweighs your bluntness."

Elias raised an eyebrow at the back of the priestess. "Of course I would offer any compensation required for the task."


Maria sighed audibly and waved her hand dismissively without turning around. "Breakfast at the Eflsong then, and the replacement of any supplies used in the process."

It was Elias's turn to grin as he graciously accepted the terms of agreement offered by the priestess. Before the day was half gone Istari Tower's existing wards were strengthened and new were added.

[Cort Thundershot]

Phase spiders lurked silently all throughout the woods, awaiting any creature caught unaware to make their next meal. Staring up into the windows of the old abandoned manor, the mage nodded to himself.

"To the top then, we will see just who has taken up residence here." The man seemed to be talking to himself as he stepped through the front door of the place. He wrinkled his nose as his vision adjusted to the gloomy interior of the delapidated manor.

Elias strolled about the downstairs seemingly noncholantly. As he moved about, the mage browsed the curious shelved items, and studied the pictures that hung on the walls. Any who watched him would have seen him chattering to himself the entire time. All the while helmed horrors made their way around the floor, sensing the mage's presence, yet not pinpointing his location.

Eventually the man stood at the top of the stairs, readying himself for a spell battle. Once his wards were raised, he stepped through the door, a mirthless smile stamped on his face.

"You've come to find your death mageling." A creaking, harsh voice sounded as the well preserved lich and his guardians appeared before the mage.

Seemingly calm, with almost a look of pity in his eyes, the mage shook his head slowly. "Quite the contrary in fact. I've come to serve an eviction notice from my Lady."

Instantly the room was filled with magical energy as the lich released a powerful spell. The very air wavered and turned a reddish hue as searing magical energy encircled the mage. As the spell wound itself down, all that was left of the man were twinkling lights where he once stood.

The sound of throaty cackling filled the room, but was cut short as Elias stepped through the stairway door once again. The mage's eyes blazed as he spoke the command word that would trigger his ward shattering spell. As he and the lich both worked more castings hurriedly, undead guardians rushed the intruder intending to cut him down.

The man finished his spell first, and a bright blue energy radiated from where he stood. The spell, designed to destroy the undead, acted as a shockwave that shattered all of the guardians that were trying in vain to chop the mage down. The lich was not far behind in finishing his castings, and has he did the same searing magical energy surrounded Elias, once again obscuring him from view. Two seemingly endless seconds later, as the spell dissipated, the lich knew fear for the first time in countless years as the mage stood working his own spell of power. As he finished, a thunderous boom rocked the entire manor as the force of the spell exploded upststairs. Blinding white heat filled the small room, shattering doors and anything else crafted of wood. Black charring covered almost every inch of stone wall. The force of the explosion had shattered the ancient bones of the undead, and scattered the ash all at once.

Without another word, the mage made his way through the rest of the manor shattering the rest with lightnings and spells of rest for the dead.

Before long he was standing outside, staring up at the star filled sky when the whisper of a melodic voice entered his mind. "You have served me well once again."

[Blu C Fox]

*a basket of fruit along with a note arrives at the Weave Master tower*

Thank you for your timely intervention saving me from that psycho who wanted to burn me and the orc. Without your aid I fear I would have been killed in a most horrible way. Also thank you for the treatment of my wound, it is very painful and I still have a limp, but it is healing slowly. If you ever need my help come and ask me and I'll see what I can offer.

Sincerely,

Kean Harrington.

[all_distorted]

First rays of the morning sun touched the city’s roofs, sparkled off the puddles which were scattered around after a night rain, pierced ruddy leaves of a mighty tree growing near the Tower. A raven-haired girl paused on the steps admiring the view of the tree blazing with crimson against the backdrop of the pale blue sky. Just a moment after, however, she vanished behind a massive door of the Istari Tower, beautiful scenery or not, she had little time to enjoy it.

Aileen patted the golem, vigilantly standing guard by the entrance, it responded with quiet impassive humming. The girl suppressed a yawn and was about to walk towards a door leading to the inner chambers as her gaze fell upon the basket of fruits left in the hall. As she came closer she found the note attached to it. The girl skimmed over the text, a barely perceptible smirk touching the corner of her mouth, then she composed a reply, folded it neatly and put inside an envelope adorned with a silver ornament. After a moment of thinking, she put the Elfsong tavern as an address. The text of the letter, addressed to Kean Harrington is following:

“Dear Kean,

Thank you for your present. I hope your leg is better now, even though it’s still too little time since that accident. You are welcome to stay at the Istari for the time being if you would feel safer here. And please do not hesitate to let me know if you would like me to accompany you to a destination of your choice. There is hardly anything I despise and hate more than brutes preying on weak girls who happen to travel alone!

~Aileen Lonergan.”

Having left the envelope on a table together with the rest of outgoing mail for a messenger to pick up, she made her way to the second floor, stepping softly on thick blue carpets. She entered the library and tossed her cloak over a carved chair’s back, holding back another yawn. The girl run her hand across her pale face and glanced at the bookcases. And again endless rows of books, of different sizes and different age, different volume and different contents. A sigh escaped her lips – yet again she was absolutely clueless about where to start her searches. In smooth, fluid motion she reached the nearest bookcase and then set about reading tomes' titles, taking them from shelves, turning pages and then placing them back. After some time which seemed eternity to her, Aileen irritably blew a strand of hair out of her face. Useless! Of course, their library couldn’t compare to Candlekeep, and nevertheless it was quite big, without a librarian or someone who would know all those books she could spend days here looking for information she needed!

She sank into a chair wearily, fished a black velvet pouch out of her bag and carefully shook its contents out onto the table’s surface. A few gems tinkled quietly and formed into improvised pattern. The girl rested her chin on her intertwined fingers staring at the colorful scattering in front of her. So, which one of them? Or perhaps neither? Or may be not even a gem? Flickering candle flames danced on the stones’ edges, twinkling on smooth surfaces of some of them. She didn’t even notice how her mind clouded as the exhaustion prevailed and she glided into sleep…

[Ri762]

If Aileen would take one of the gems on the table in her hands she might let her fingers play with it before she holds it against a candle which stands on the table. The rays of light break on the cut of the jewel - an elegant green glimmer plays on her bright skin - a smaragd.

The longer she stares on the gem the further she drifts away. Images of a vision overlay reality. The green glimmer turns into a dance of everchanging colours. A figure places a hexagon-cut stone into a socket on an altar. It's surface seems almost fluid. The sky is scorched.

Aileen blinks two times and leans back on the chair. Her gaze wanders once again over the backs of the many tomes on the shelfs. Several hours later the exhausted and now angered girl wipes a book off the table. She curses her unfruitful efforts.

An annoyed glare falls on the book on the ground. She picks it up.
An interested look falls on the book in her hands. She starts to read.


...the "Sky's tear" or in other regions of Faerûn also known as "Godgift" is an extremely rare stone of probably the highest quality and potential on whole Toril. It is more than a myth instead of an actual subject of studies. Few members of arcane societies had a chance to investigate samples of this stone. Its origin is unknown but it is suspected to be not Toril itself. There have been never found major congregations of said material. Only small amounts scattered over all the areas of Faerûn. Always as a single piece with sizes no bigger than 30 centimetres in diameter. At first the surface of the stone gives the impression of looking similar to a diamond but on second look the student may recognize a colourfull play projected on any wall by the rays of light which pierce through the material. Even though the stone is of admirable beauty it's simply to rare to be used as ordinary jewelry.

Rumors involving a matching description of the "Sky's tear" as well as experiments show an unmatched potential in combination with aracane and divine magic. Used by hands of experience the stone is able to amplify, connect and create complete new ways of magic. Sky tears have been used to create gems of lighting which can illuminate whole cities, special gems of seeing which make it possible to look through and past anything over incredible distances in complete darkness as well as portalstones which grant a stable pass for an army and not only a platoon which has to move thousands of miles within one second...

Her eyes stay calm as she finishes the last passage. Without hesitation the girl grabs another tome out of the shelf. "Recordings of Tamen Druxis - of ancient customs, ceremonies and rituals"

...the typical wedding-ceremony of the espurta-mountain-troll is a fascinating sight, a drama of nature itself...

Aileen flips a few hundred pages.

...the members of the group gathered around the bed and focused onto the woman who was suffering from the curse. One of them explained later that he was talking to his god and focusing on the woman for the whole ritual, constantly repeating prayers and ignoring everything around him....

...it is also very interesting to watch the star constellation this night. The last 2 weeks every night has been under a constant meteor shower, a wonderful and astonishing sight...

...the shaman elaborated that the catalyst was prepared by a single member of the group with extraordinary faith. In a meditation of 24 hours in length. The man chanted and prayed on the stone. The spells he used were mainly healingspells and ones which were favoured by his god as he explained. Before the stone is ready to serve as a catalyst for the ritual it has to be charged with elemental energy. The priest explained that he applied a certain amount of spells, each of a different energytype. Without this the stone isn't ready to unleash its full potential....

...the shaman further explained that depending on the stone, the cut, the place, preferably holy ground as well as faith of the gathered people seems to have a strong influence on the attempt to break the curse...

...the energy seems to run through the catalyst which is then supposed to get amplified and break the overly strong curse.I suspect this is most likely caused by a ritual demanding a physical sacrifice by the suspect. Maybe held against her will...

Aileen stops reading and reflects about what she just read.

[Shorn]

An owl flies low and swoops upward to drop a roll of hide scroll paper at the pinnacle of the tower. The contents of the note are as follows: "Greetings, Weavemasters. A few of you know who I am. Most of you do not. For those who are unfamiliar, and whom might be reading, I am Uriel, a member of the Elder Circle. I was recently accosted by a member of the Fist, a cleric, as I came to find out. He insisted on violence when I merely wished to talk, and demanded that I surrender to him or face death. When I chose do defend myself, he attacked, and through the course of the battle, used a necromantic spell of titanic power. The spell, so foul and horrid that many know not of its existence, is known to some as "Vampiric Feast." Although I survived, surrounded by the life drained ruins of the land itself, I find myself the recipient of a bounty of ten thousand golds. I see this as blatant disregard for the natural order of things, as well as entrely irresponsible use of power. Though it may cost me my life, I intend to see to it that this situation is resolved, and that this man, this officer of the Fist, is stripped of his power to harm those innocent of crime or ill will. I humbly request your consideration in this matter."

The letter is signed simply, unadorned, "Uriel."

[Rocshanks]

Today our guilds diplomat, Eric Lightbringer, who was in the position to improve our guild relations, is dead. He has been executed for knowledge of the dark arts. Dark arts which were taught to him by a member within your guild as he informed us before his timely end. He was informed by one of your instructors, his master, that it was acceptable to rely on an spell known as 'Vampiric Feast' if it was the last resort. We will be further investigating this individual, if we uncover that he is a necromancer, he will join Eric on our wall. We highly recommend that you also investigate those within your guild and root out all those who you suspect of this foul magic.

Captain
Daaf Rocshanks