Weave Master Role Play

[MercTroop]

Green masked gazed blankly up towards him as Zolf scanned over the roster of guild members. Raising a fork full of straw short cake to his mouth he chomped down the portion. Scrapping against the empty plate for crumbs he found his prey Mutharin.

Pressing what ever would stick to the fork into his mouth he studied the name and any additional information listed. Paper told him little that he didn't already know. Closing the book he watched as inhabitants of the tower interacted with one another.

Grasping the green mask he pressed it against his face. Under neath his mask he smirked amused. Soon he would have a piece of the creature to study one way or another...

Following couple days Zolf takes out allot of information that Weave Masters have about Mutharin.

[Blank]

((when/if we get a time for this thing, I'd love to make it. I'll be writing some essays for English and studying for a Nursing exam for tomorrow, so it'll be a bit tight))

\\ Unfortunately DM Watcher has an unpredictable timetable so you just have to hope you're on when the event is happening. It's gonna happen in the very near future..

'Cap'n! Cap'n!' Mutharin awoke to the sounds of someone shouting his name and knocking on his door; light-headed and irritated that his only sleep in days was being interrupted.

It can't be much later than dawn... he thought.

'This better be important or tha dwarf tha' woke me up is in a lot o' trouble!' Mutharin called as he quickly pulled on his boots and placed the circlet on his head. He opened the door and there stood one of the Ironfaar warriors, clearly weary from guard duty in the past few hours.

'What is it?'

'It's Foggy, tha gnome in tha red hat ye told tha scouts ta look fer? Khondar has spotted 'im walkin' down tha road towards tha merchant camp near tha Gate...' the soldier said respectfully.

'Indeed? I must hurry, inform the Chief tht I am leaving!' Mutharin told the dwarven warrior who nodded eagerly. Mutaharin ran down the hall in his tunic, calling 'Noric! Get up you lazy ex-bonehead! I've found Foggy! Teleport yourself to the merchant camp near Baldur's Gate, we might need your help if Bah'lahl attacks!' Noric mumbled a reply as Mutharin left to put his armor on.

I should be able to get there in a few hours.

Mutharin ordered some of his kin to help him in to his armor and then to hand him his adamantine axe and shield before placing his helmet on. He walked outside and then mounted his white horse, pulling on its reins so that it would begin galloping. It saundered through the lite-bushland and on to the road. Mutharin's special horse didn't get tired easily as most horses did and ran at near-full speed the whole way and true to his prediction, it only took him a few hours to get to the campfire.

He dismounted his horse and looked around at a few familiar faces. Bernard, a couple of mages, another dwarf with the insignia of the Weave Masters printed on his cloak that could only be S'ment Lodir and then he saw Foggy. Mutharin walked up to Foggy and began to speak to him quietly.

'Bah'lahl is after you, Master Foggy. He's after me and the ex-necromancer Noric as well... you need to get to safety, he could strike any time,' he spoke to Foggy. Unfortunately for them, Foggy decided to stay at the camp, saying that he would be fine but after the events of the past few days, Mutharin was not so sure. He began scanning the surrounding areas for anything suspicious then in a brilliant flash of blue light, Noric appeared at the campfire. It wasn't soon after that that Mutharin's fears came true and the Shadow of Aria, the Shadow Singer, Bah'lahl attacked.

[ragnarok1983]

*Bron Ferros sits outside the Tower, cursing as per usual, and pulling bits of stone and straw out of his right arm. He complains audibly, muttering as townsfolk pass with a lispy, whispy whistle of an elder man with a slight gap in his teeth would.*

That shhhadowy bastid and his firey 'shhhplosions. Got bitshh and pieshhhes of junk all in m'arm.

Bah, bah I shhhay!

Shhtupid feathery elf too.

Hmph!!! To the hells with both of'm!

[ragnarok1983]

*Several days after a not-so-good experience in some caverns that has left Bron missing a second tooth, Mr. Ferros decides that entering some different caverns in order to obtain some iron may be prudent. This comes in light of Foggy's recommendation that workstations be installed in the tower.

Unfortunately for Bron, like everything else, his simple journey for ore turns into a struggle for his life.

Bron is getting to the lower levels of the Cloakwood Mines when he smells it --- the stench of rotting flesh slapping across the ground as some being drags it's animated feet down the halls of this cavernous dwelling. Then, he hears the muttering of dark words... NECROMANCY! Without hesitation, Bron grabs the leather-wrapped grip of his hefty warhammer and lunges at the beast as it turns the corner. The poor Weave Master's eyesight is lousy, but the physical strength of his youth has hardly begun to leave his body. He slays the mummy and then a shadow, but he's gripping his stomach with his shieldarm. Greatly angered by his creations being destroyed, the Necromancer takes no chances and begins darker incantations.

Bron is is being destroyed from the inside out with this dark magic, of this there is little doubt. Whether the source of the debilitating spell is from the Necromancer or his summoned Wraith is of little concern. Chances are, Bron won't make it out of these caverns without some backup and quick. Then he remembers it... a scroll Bernard had given him almost two years ago now, maybe more. Bron's hand dives into his "Just-in-Case-I'm-Too-Damned-Old-to-Hold-My-Own Pouch" and pulls out a scroll of the seventh or mayhaps eight circle. Bron summons a mighty elemental to save his arse, and the necromancer backs away in fright as the glow of a lightning-encircled misty beast suddenly appears!

Finally a break! With the evil beings tossed like ragdolls from cavern wall to cavern wall, Bron takes the brief opportunity to patch himself up so that he doesn't bleed to death before the battle ends.

Eventually, the Necromancer collapses to his knees; his chest caves in from the mighty blows and magics of the elemental. The Wraith's entity fades leaving a single blackened cloth to float softly to the ground. Bron is is still in gut-wrenching pain when the elemental summon finally dissapates as the spell's effects wear off. Unable to carry the corpse due to grevious internal injuries, Bron thinks of the next best thing...

Having an extra invisibility spell prepared, Bron quickly casts is before the native beasts of these caverns seek the sounds of battle. In his weakened state, he is forced to drag the corpse and does what he believes is the only logical thing to do... bring it to the room that contains the beholder, lest the necromancer's allies or some other darker being breathes life back into him.

The idea borders on evil, but Bron is left with little choice. He drags the corpse into the room, as the Umber Hulks and Bugbears smash it thinking it is some sort of living intruder. All they see is a corpse sliding across the floor after all, as the invisible Bron Ferros heaves the dead man to the corner of the room where the former necromancer will hopefully rot.

The mangled corpse lies by some chests now, motionless. The room grows silent as the Bugbears stop poking the Necromancer's still body. Sweat and blood poor down Bron's face as he hobbles to the exit, looking for reprieve. All he can think of, is how long the duration of this spell is... and if he can make it out in one piece.

As he limps out of the mines he mutters*

Gah. *coughs up some toothy-bloody spittle and heaves the mass on the ground* Mining was never thishh hard in Amn. What in the Hellshhh ishhh wrong with people these days!? Damned younginshhh. Damned 'Mancershhh. Bah!



/// Thank you (Character Name) [Player Name: rangercameron] For some impromptu PvP/RP. That was a good time. Hell, you had me to within 20 hps at one point! ///

[Cort Thundershot]

Mutharin's Judgement by the Council

Somewhere within the walls of Istari Tower, in a dimly lit room that very few people know exists, the Elder Council convenes. The room itself is circular, with ceilings that extend into seemingly nothingness. A bright beam of blue light extends from the council's round table to the ceiling. As the council sits at the round table Elias is flanked by Bernard and William. Foggy sits directly across from the Exarch. The High Mage is flanked by S'ment and Phantom. Aeilli takes her customary place between the two guardians.

All remained quiet as Aeilli began with the usual blessings from the Lady of Magic. Asking for wisdom and illumination into the matters to be discussed during their meeting. As she ended her prayers the room was briefly filled with a blinding flash of silver and golden light. All in the room knew that Mystra smiled upon the gathering.

After the chaplain had taken her seat Elias began the meeting. "We are gathered this evening to discuss a matter that has caused much tension within the order. I would have all of your thoughts on the matter of the gold dwarf Mutharin."

Not a breath passed before Knight S'ment rang in with a dwarven fist on the table. "I ain't been on yer council long, but this'n acted out against the council an the whole order! Ain't fittin fer a dwarf nor a guardian ta act like that'n did! I'm guessin we should be givin 'em the boot before he does more damage." S'ment leaned back and crossed his arms over his barrel chest with all the huff of a dwarf.

Bernard was the next to speak his piece on the matter concerning Mutharin. "As much as I hate to lose another member of the order, I agree with S'ment. What good is a lawless guardian who listens to no one? Do not forget that he did work with the supposed former necromancer Noric too."

Furrowed brows and scowls could be seen all across the table at the mention of the necromancer's name.

"I worked with the avariel myself." Phantom was relaxed with his hands resting on top of his helm as he spoke. "I suppose if you punish Mutharin, that I should be punished alongside him. Banishment is justified."

Foggy spoke up before any more could be said. He leaned forwad as he spoke. His customary enlarge spell allowed him to see over the table. "Ya stopped when we asked ya to Mr. Phenton. Mutharin kept a goin. Couldn't tell em any different when I talked ta him. We won't be punishin tha lad fer nothin more than disobeyin the council I reckon. Even if he did help a killer."

Captain William then spoke, his arms folded on the table so that his hands rested on his opposite elbows. "I've heard enough on the matter. As Captain of the guardians I say that Mutharin be punished by exile from the Weave Masters swiftly and permanently. His recklessness will cost us more and more each day."

"Then it is settled. The gold dwarf Mutharin will be banished from the order effective immediately. We will retrieve our cloak and key upon his dismissal, and this business will be put to rest. For those of you who find it hard to lose another member of our order please remember. In order for a garden to grow, weeds must be pulled." Elias sat back in his chair and rested his hands in front of him finger to finger in a pyramid shape. "Now, is there any other business that shall be discussed this evening..........."

[ragnarok1983]

*Bron hears of the final decision as he returns from another lengthy visit to some gods-forsaken land and nods*

It ain't that I don't like the chap... but there was no reasoning with'm. He disobeyed direct orders that were clearer than a crystal ball. His heart mighta been in the right place, but his head sure wasn't. What else is there t'say!? Hmph, wish he took S'ment's advice or mine... or hells, just plain obeyed th'order.

Always sad losing a good shield. Hmph. Hastey youngins make hastey decisions. Plain sad though, plain sad...

*With that, Bron takes his leave and scouts the lands for potential miners of ore with mixed results.*

[MercTroop]

An entire moon rise passes until Zolf finally returns to the Ishtari tower. Walking down to the armory he removes all his armor and weapons. Going straight to his room his wards activating his earth elemental guardian. It towers over him for a moment hushed whipers can be heard out side of his room. Most of the discussion involves Zolf telling the creature to step aside in a fey dilect. Shortly after loud thuds can be heard followed by rapid flashes of lights and whistles. Shortly after the room falls silent until the sound of a ritual being cast to open a portal. Purple glow eminates under his door as the swirling sound of a portal can be heard on the other side. Room falls silent once more.

Inspection of Zolf room will show various creatures that have been taxidermed. Few of the creatures include displacer beast, doppleganger, and a beholder. Plants he once kept in his room are scattered in ruin, in the center of the room is corpse of a earth elemental. Scorch marks show it might have been burned from the inside out. A ritual circle has been drawn on top of its corpse for summoning portals. Where the portal lead can't be determined but its clear it was created only to go one way.

Days carry on like usual with in the tower. As time passes Zolf does not return.

[HollowedHeart]

A roughly made portal opens up somewhere in the farmlands and a young half-elf dressed in rugged clothing is spit out of the dark hole and onto the ground.. the portal closes as smoke rises from his body, wrapped firmly in a light blue cloak bearing the emblem of a Weave Master.. rusted and worn.. almost unrecognizable.... He grunts..pushing himself up on a massive sword almost as long as he is tall.. "Damned Reds... Taking me by surprise..but I'm free now...."

He makes a gesture with his hand and chants..
Child of earth and wind, my companion, my friend... Ku... I summon thee
the wind blew gently across his cheek and onto a small rock sitting nearby and it turned into a beetle the size of a small cat.

"Ku... Go to the Weave Masters... and take this with you" The young sorcerer conjured up a piece of paper from inside his clothing and closed his eyes, muttering words as they imprinted themselves upon the page before handing it to his familiar..

"Go quickly.. Find Foggy and Weave Exarch Elias... Make sure they get this Ku.. Do you understand?"

The beetle nodded eagerly and flew off into the distance..

As he watched the beetle go.. He gingerly stood up, glancing out into the distance..seeing the caravan nearby, along with a campfire..he slowly made his way towards the warmth... "Sure could use some whiskey...Sure could"

The letter reads as follows..

Exarch Elias..Foggy,
It is I Adept Vlen Valmorri, Months ago I joined the Weave Masters.. Only to be taken prisoner by Red Wizards and dragged to Thay.. Turned into a slave..my magic held in check... I've managed to escape..but I am exhausted.. I can hardly move... I'll try to recover at the nearby caravan fire in the Farmlands and will head to the Tower when I'm better.. That is if you dont manage to find me first.

With all due regards,
Adept Vlen Valmorri

[franktheskank]

*a bat finds its way to the weave masters, delivering this message*

To whom it may concern,
I have interest in joining the Weave Masters. I am a novice wizard with some minor skill in the Art. If you are interested in employing me please send a message via return bat. Oh and by the by, the bat responds to his name: Mephion. He is quite fond of mice and would greatly appreciate one if you have any to spare.

Regards,
Solarion

[HollowedHeart]

Vlen Valmorri walks right up to the Tower twirling a small key in hand, speaking softly under his breath.

"Home... Thanks Bernard"

[Cort Thundershot]

Elias sat in his study reading a rather lengthy tome. He was enjoying a quiet smoke from his favorite pipe when Orion squeaked alarm. Another bat had entered through the study's window and was trying to get to the exarch. Orion and the new bat circled each other for several moments before Elias noticed the new creature did not act wild.

"Orion, come, this friend bears a message I believe."

Both of the familiars landed atop the tome and Elias began to whisper. He smiled as he spoke, and in the end he dismissed them both with a wave. He had instructed Orion to show Mephion where to find the most delictable rodents.

[rokranon]

A letter is delivered to Istari tower with instructions for it to be given directly to Exarch Elias Goodmane. It is wrapped in a blue ribbon and is sealed with a crest of a phoenix.

Elias,

I hope this finds you well my old friend. My travels have taken me far to the north of Baldur's Gate in my quest to find and destroy this demonologist warlock, Darkstone. Even as I write this letter, sitting in the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter, I receive news that my target may be headed to the small town of Loudwater. A paladin's work never ends.

So what news of the Gate, my friend? I have received little news of home lately; I spent quite a long time in Waterdeep and despite the enormity of the city I heard few rumors of Baldur's Gate.

Despite my lack of success with the warlock, I did uncover and slay a Red Wizard working out of Evereska several months ago. He was a master of the dark art of necromancy and the encounter left its mark on me I am embarrassed to say. I may never regain the full use of my left hand again after the battle with the Thayan's minions.

I must depart for Loudwater as soon as possible. Should you find time to respond, I can be found there for a time. Torm protect you always, my old friend, while I cannot.

Sincerely,

Sir Jonas Rokranon

Paladin of Torm
Knight of the Radiant Heart
Weave Guardian Knight

[Cort Thundershot]

Elias sighed as he rubbed the shoulder that was pierced by two arrows just hours ago. As he made a rotating motion with his arm he could not help but think how fortunate he was that there was a priest among the band that was hunting the green dressed mage. His shoulder was rapidly healing thanks to the spells applied hastily to his wounds.

Elias shook his head as he uttered the words that had been on his mind for some time now. "I grow too old for this."

As the words left his mouth he reflected on the words spoken to him by the young man he had met during the foray. "I am sorry Master Elias that I was not in front of you to absorb those blows."

Elias sighed as he replayed those words over and over in his head. How many times had he been told by others that he needed protecting? Why would people place so much importance on one mortal figure? Thought after thought raced through the exarch's mind as he laid back to stare at the ceiling of his chambers until the welcoming rays of the morning sun began to pierce his window.

[Ri762]

As Bernard reaches the outskirts of Baldur's Gate he stops for a moment.

Leans against a tree - a rough bandage applied to his right arm - pulls down his facemask - takes a sip from a waterflask - spits it out - leaves a stain of thinned blood - looks back to the south - an unknown adventurer approaches - Bernard pulls up his mask and grabs the grip of his dagger as soon as he notices the stranger.

"Back off!" He shouts with a nervous but angry voice. "But Sir, you look hurt...maybe i can help you with...". The wounded Weavescout draws his weapon "I said get lost, I am perfectly fine." - an obvious lie.

Exhausted and weak on his legs, Bernard trudges towards the bridge leaving the helpful adventurer with a puzzled look behind "Some people..." The man shakes his head.

In the blurry distance he sees the Farmlands and thinks "Was the bridge always that long?"- Bernard feels dizzy. He halts every few meters taking deep breathes - glaring at every person who passes with distrust, anger and fear - a supposed twenty minute walk turns into a two hour march. Finally he sees the gate. He reaches for the flask of water again - empty. "Come on, you have come so far" he mumbles into his beard. His head is tilted downwards, his hand rests on the wall of a small house for support as a hooded figure appears out of nowhere, speaking with a voice from the past "What's going on with him? Is he wounded?" A passing commoner gives a shrug and moves on.

The tall man struggles to breath - pulls back the hood - reveals his bruised face with its chalky white skin and his glassy eye - the drawn dagger still in one of his hands - he nervously steps back - "Just need some fresh air. It's only a scratch, leave me..." - he collapses.

"Bernard!" The hooded half-elf catches him before he hits the ground. "I will bring you to one of the temples inside the city"...too weak to stand alone the weavescout still replies in a rebeling tone "No! I need to reach the tower." The shady figure answers with an almost indifferent voice while he drags the bearded man towards a temple "You wont find anyone important there nowadays, it's almost like it has been abandoned". Bernard sighs "No!" then faints.

Several hours later he finds himself laying on a plank bed in some small room at some place he doesn't know - peaceful silence. He opens his eye slowly - his vision still blurred.

His view runs down the ceilings of the room. The bandage, which he applied hastily to his right arm and stopped the bleeding after the devious attack, has been replaced with a new clean one - obviously by gentle and experienced hands.

As he tries to lift himself up he lets out a deep groan, quickly a warm hand reaches for his back to support him. With his left hand he rubs his bruised head in slight pain "Where in the nine hells am I? Is this the Istari-tower?" The hand on his back slips away and the fuzzy silhouette of a woman wearing blue appears next to him. He blinks a few times but isn't able to shake off the fog from his eye. All he manages to percieve is her shiny golden hair and the staff she's wielding.

She speaks with a friendly calming voice "No it isn't Bernard, but don't worry now, you are in a safe place. Try to rest..." he opens his mouth - trying to interrupt her - but the woman simply goes on speaking with her voice smooth as silk "...yes, i know. The two took the essence from you. It's out of reach for now..." Bernard looks down not saying a word "...but don't let it dishearten you. You tried your best like you always did..." Her hand slowly runs down on his right cheek lifting his chin up carefully, looking directly at him "...you might have lost a battle but there are many to be fought until you reach the end of your path..." he looks at her in an almost hypnotized manner as she speaks - his heart and mind are open to the woman like an unfinished book to a writer "...you have come a long way, been nothing but loyal and devoted." He sighs " Don't loose your faith my child, your physical wounds will heal over time and if you manage to heal those inside of you...one day even you will be truly happy again..." her hand strokes a strand of hair out of his bruised face smiling warmly at him "...stay true to yourself, care for those who care for you and don't give up. Rest now, your friends will find you here...i have made sure of that" with the last words spoken the Weavescout looks thoughtfully down on himself while still sitting on that plank bed as her vanishing voice speaks "...and stop the drinking!"

He raises his head ready to speak - the room is empty - he remains silent - the look on his face shows a big questionmark. Still a bit unsecure he stands up and approaches the only door in the room. As he opens it his view runs across the hall and he recognizes the place, it's the church of Mystra.

He approaches the altar in the center of the hall eyeing the priestess who is obviously busy counting the recent donations to the temple. "Thanks for the kind words." he says. The woman, shocked by Bernards sudden unexpected appearance, retorts a confused looked - obviously not knowing what he's talking about. He doesn't listen to her possible reply - sits on the ground next to the altar and leans against it with his back. The blue glow it emits dances on the walls of the hall calming everyone who looks at it. Bernards view follows the relaxing play of light for a few minutes - then rests.

[Ri762]

The Weavescout sits at a desk in the libary of the tower not reading a book. His skillful fingers play absently with a wooden wolf-shaped figure, He's lost in a trip down memorylane...for days now. He stands up - remaining quiet - not disturbing the silence which replaced the former hectic atmosphere in the tower for so many months now. His view runs across the knowledgefilled shelfs as he approaches the door - stops and looks back over his shoulder. Takes a last look at the podium where he was initiated - where he witnessed several promotions by various Weavemasters, Guardians and Scouts - where he was appointed Overwatch - where he held council with powerful Wizards, noble Warriors and friends - where he experienced good and bad times - a memory.

The Weavescout enters his room - his backpack is prepared. He looks out of the window watching the sun set behind the skyline of the Gate. He places the wooden wolf carefully on his desk looking at it for an almost endless moment - leaving it in place, then grabs his belongings and weapons.

On his way downstairs the Weavescout stops at the shrine of Mystra. He kneels down,puts aside his weapons and speaks a few words which noone will ever hear because noone is there.

The simple man leaves the Istaritower. Rumors speak he has been seen at the White Mask Theater, but it's doors were locked.