Pandora3309 wrote:
A few quiet months after Evani’s disappearance, a story with her name in it crops up in one of the taverns in the city. The smoky and populated tavern rattles with the gloomy story of a ship bound for the ports of Baldur’s Gate but ultimately found its way to the bottom of the harsh and cold sea.
“They said there be a single survivor found miles away from da wreckage. He claim’d ta be the lone survivor of t’all, an’ refused ta talk ‘bout what happen’d. Musta been som’tin horrible.” One elder man with an eye-patch clatters before taking a drink from the watered down mug of ale.
“They got the manifest ‘n passenger list up in the docks too, ye know. Tings suppos’d te come in on the ship.” A sailor clammers drunkenly. “I saws it, I did.”
“Ye ain’t saws it!” The elder man with the eye-patch bellows.
“I saws it!” The sailor exclaims with a slammed fist down on the table. “It had a purty name that caught me eye. Evani Bross.”
And so the immortal story circulates from tavern to inn and back again in Baldur’s Gate of the ship that found its home on the bottom of the sea. Along with the unfortunate and untimely death of the passenger upon it named Evani Bross.
*As soon as the words are uttered, a paper crumpling sound is heard then a crumpled up piece of paper falls to the floor of the smoke filled tavern. To be read by any who happen upon it.*
Pandora3309 wrote:
My dearest husband,
I don’t expect you to understand this or to easily accept it. After hours to myself to think, I’ve decided that it’s time for me to move on if only for a while. I feel as though I may suffocate on the sword Coast. I know that I have never been the wife I should have been to you. I have not always been kind or loving or even faithful. I have never been dependable either, though surely you knew that about me long before you ever truly loved me? There are so many things I want you to know that I never seem to find a way to say out loud. So many things I want to say sorry for. I hope you know I love you. And that I am so sorry that I loved another as well. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me for that. Perhaps I’ll never forgive myself for it either. I hope you know how wonderful you have been for me. That with you I laughed and loved and lived a much more exciting life than I ever could have without you. I hope this is not the end for us. That someday I will have the courage to return to the sword coast and to face those demons I always try so hard to run from. But for now I can’t be there for you, my husband. I can’t be there at all. You’ll be fine without me. I know that much. And it’s alright to hate me. I always seem to be leaving you don’t I? There are so many things I have to figure out that only time away can help me look at with the distance I need to see them properly. Until our paths cross again,
Your Wife.
A lone dark-clad man stood in the bustle of the farmlands. Sailors and merchants--some composed of horns and pointy ears, some merely man--scurried about their desperate homeland with crates and ever-burning lamplight. Valiant noted their lack of mirth and the sad quality of their futle existance.
Valiant continued to pause; looking between the businessmen, sailors, (germbag), and downtrodden farmers before booming in a uncharaismtac yet passion-filled voice. . .
"Years have passed. . . yet we hear the same excuses from the Dukes. There is not enough '"resources" to herald a higher status of living to the crumbling Docks District and the increasingly impoverished farmlands. How many times do farmers and their families starve and go without nourishment because of the tyrannical jaws of the Dukes, the unfair distribution of taxes, and the callous, self-important Flaming Fist whom underminded the church of Tyr and took justice into their own hands; cruely incinerating a warlock in a most despicable display of power and bloodlust, Was this city not founded upon a balanced bedrock of righteousness and sensible law-enforcing? All I see is Tyranny and a flat disregard for the health of lands supposedly under the sword of the Dukes! It is -not- dwindling resources but lack of compassion and care for the spirit of our fellow man. Zhentarim seize the lands unguarded by the Dukes because a secret agreement of compliance has been treatied in royal shadows. This is -not- a speech of despair and discouragement but a call to arms. How can you discredit my words when the Dukes have aleready agreed upon a trading alliance? I seek a band of freedom fighters who would declare themselves free of the shackles of Tyranny. So I ask you all. . . for this once chance. . . to stand as free people against the evident yoke of economic and moral bankruptcy. We are -not- outnumbered , I ask if you are a paladin of one of the local Orders under the control of the Dukes. . . disband please. Not tommorow, today. If you're a commoner merely trying to get ahead that we all band together with sword and not sleep in the fire. I'm done sacrificing for these tyrants!"
Valiant raises his flaming sword and screamed in a heart-wrenching voice: "FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
His voice echoed through the farmlands for some time.
Molder: Editor of The Tribune
Valiant: Shrewd, sadistic disguise-strategist; retiring
Hitman Hard wrote:A lone dark-clad man stood in the bustle of the farmlands. Sailors and merchants--some composed of horns and pointy ears, some merely man--scurried about their desperate homeland with crates and ever-burning lamplight. Valiant noted their lack of mirth and the sad quality of their futle existance.
Valiant continued to pause; looking between the businessmen, sailors, (germbag), and downtrodden farmers before booming in a uncharaismtac yet passion-filled voice. . .
"Years have passed. . . yet we hear the same excuses from the Dukes. There is not enough '"resources" to herald a higher status of living to the crumbling Docks District and the increasingly impoverished farmlands. How many times do farmers and their families starve and go without nourishment because of the tyrannical jaws of the Dukes, the unfair distribution of taxes, and the callous, self-important Flaming Fist whom underminded the church of Tyr and took justice into their own hands; cruely incinerating a warlock in a most despicable display of power and bloodlust, Was this city not founded upon a balanced bedrock of righteousness and sensible law-enforcing? All I see is Tyranny and a flat disregard for the health of lands supposedly under the sword of the Dukes! It is -not- dwindling resources but lack of compassion and care for the spirit of our fellow man. Zhentarim seize the lands unguarded by the Dukes because a secret agreement of compliance has been treatied in royal shadows. This is -not- a speech of despair and discouragement but a call to arms. How can you discredit my words when the Dukes have aleready agreed upon a trading alliance? I seek a band of freedom fighters who would declare themselves free of the shackles of Tyranny. So I ask you all. . . for this once chance. . . to stand as free people against the evident yoke of economic and moral bankruptcy. We are -not- outnumbered , I ask if you are a paladin of one of the local Orders under the control of the Dukes. . . disband please. Not tommorow, today. If you're a commoner merely trying to get ahead that we all band together with sword and not sleep in the fire. I'm done sacrificing for these tyrants!"
Valiant raises his flaming sword and screamed in a heart-wrenching voice: "FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
His voice echoed through the farmlands for some time.
*a man somewhat aged in a white robe overhears the speech and leaves a note for valiant looking to speak further about his revolution.*
The note reads to speak when both are farther away from the heart of Duchal power and together.
Wai Li - Paladin and Watcher of Helm and Head Watchknight of the Everwatch[bio]
An elf dressed in green armor was seen dragging another, one eyed, masked elf disguised in gray, back to the Fist guard. The wood elf in green explained that the masked, "bandit", as he called the other elf, was stalking and did slay the animal companion of a Halfling moving south along the trade way. He left the gray disguised elf with the Fist stating, "I do not no the laws of your people, except that the shedding of any goodly animal's blood amongst my people, does not go unpunished!".
Searching for any sign now, Hinzel sneaks into the Temple to the Wonderbringer in the Gate, taking a silent seat in it before passing out from exhaustion on a bench. The dangerously thin Hinzel watched the forge in The Temple whenever he stirs awake, before quickly falling asleep again.
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Hinzel - Fuer grissa ost drauka
Grainne - Lookin' for a good life.
Your life is yours and yours alone. Rise up and live it.
rick2222 wrote:Searching for any sign now, Hinzel sneaks into the Temple to the Wonderbringer in the Gate, taking a silent seat in it before pasding out from exhaustion on a bench.
The Artificer of the Temple passes by the passed out Hinzel, staring at him for a moment before returning to its duties.
Kel - "Egads!" - RetiredHe's back! - Retired again Karl - "Clang!" Firemead Elderhair - "Quaint!" - Retired Fat Ned - *burp!* Jan van Edelhof - "Ahem!"
. Several posters can be found around the Gate in the morning, near the campfire of the Friendly arm and on a few trees just before the northern entrance of Beregost. There is one on the door of Durlag's Tower.
[/tr]
[tr][td]
[/td]
[td] Beware, mortals a Lady dwells bellow,
Quite protective of her ancient hollow.
With her Raven she holds it dear.
Remains of past splendour she guards.
This white Lady, the wise should fear!
Deathless, her game has many cards.
Ô Wanderer, here's her warning: "Durlag's Netherese ruins you'll leave!
My old domains you will not thieve,
You'd risk to not see the morning."
Beware, mortals a Lady dwells bellow,
Quite protective of her ancient hollow. [/td][/tr]
A short reply is engraved right under the parchments containing the beautiful poem, as if an incredibly hot fire had marked the thick tree bark where the messages are pinned:
I have traveled the lands of dark,
Creeping shadows, thick like bark,
Of this Lady, I have no fear,
Nor regard for what she holds dear.
I am no plain wanderer, and need not flee,
And if I plan to go below the Tower,
I certainly wield the required power,
To come and go as I please, roaming free.
It is the Deathless Lady who should beware,
And my unsteady, limited patience not dare,
Lest I help her to a peace she does not crave,
At long last, in a well deserved permanent grave.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
Jarresh sits in the Blushing Mermaid as he pours over maps of the region. He makes marks and notations on the parchment as he looks through books and scrolls containing information on the Serpent Hills and surrounding areas. Every so often he waves over the barmaid, requesting another ale as well as food to eat.
As a bard walks into the tavern he stops to listen as the woman explains she is from Elturel and retrieves a travel harp from her pack and begins to sing and play. Jarresh is intrigued by the music and lyrics and seems to forget what he was doing as he listens.
"Riding, riding across the plain, see them riding home again. Bright their shields, bright their chain- The Knights of Dragon Down.
They have gone where shadows creep. Their blades a bloody harvest reap. Another dragon put fore'er asleep By the Knights of Dragon Down.
On their fingers gem rings gleam. Of such baubles, the very cream Falls into the hands, in a steady stream, Of the Knights of Dragon Down.
In a dark hall a lady sits alone, Her bright eyes gleam as white as bone. Her dark spells a-hunting roam For the Knights of Dragon Down.
With cruel smile, a web she weaves. From each Knight, his soul she cleaves. Armored bone is all she leaves Of the Knights of Dragon Down.
Ladies scream at the touch of bone, As skeletal Knights come riding home. Undead now, fore'er to roam, Are the Knights of Dragon Down."
When the bard finishes her song she strums the harp softly and says in whispered tone...
"Hear them riding, nearer outside. Never sleeping, doomed to ride. There's no place where you can hide From the Knights of Dragon Down."
Jarresh shudders as she finishes and watches her take a bow and leave the tavern. He sits for some time thinking on the song then shakes his head and returns to his maps...
///Song taken from Volo's Guide to the Sword Coast. I've always liked the tale and wanted to share. The foot note in the Guide says it is played to Down by the Sally Garden. The Blushing Mermaid
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DM Nephilim wrote:A peasant can be seen riding a cart in from the edge of the Ducal lands near the Fields of the Dead, the cart is granted entrance into the Palace district and continues is way through the inner gates to the Harbor. The cargo in the cart looks like four large boxes and it is covered with a black cloth.
Once in the harbor district the cart makes its way to the Head Quarters of the Flaming Fist. Once inside the drive hands a note to the captain of the Fist, and start to unload four pine boxes, all about the size of a man.
Ameris presents himself at the Flaming Fists headquarters to discuss the above delivery. He speaks of his concerns, as he heard that the bodies had been delivered at the behest of the Myrkulite Cara Joriani, from the woman herself. He speaks with the Fists of the information he has learned that this woman was involved in allowing the spread of the maggot plague in the north, and comments that he believes this was so as to increase the fear of her god in those lands.
He suggests that, as a priest of Ilmater, he is allowed to inspect the bodies and ensure they bear no hallmarks of the plague.
Passerbys and casual onlookers could've seen a tiefling in black armor fighting with a man in white armor in the arena to the north of the baldur's gate, in a duel. After a short battle, tiefling was defeated, said something to the man, and calmly left, without displaying much of emotion. Those familiar with him, would recognize the man as Sir Aaron, Knight-Commander of Silver Rose.
A rather tall, silver-haired man fully clad in steel and an attractive, dark-skinned woman wearing a rich scarlet dress and rumored to be a wealthy foreign merchant were seen spending the evening together in the Helm & Cloak Tavern, in the Gate's Palace District.
Casual onlookers would observe they enjoyed each other's company despite the fact they seemed to discuss very serious matters at times, at least according to their body language. Later in the night, they parted ways in a very friendly fashion, with the woman climbing to her rooms and the man heading outside after a courteous bow.
Aelcar Lightbringer, Knight of the Merciful Sword: Disappeared after the victorious defense of the Gate against The Blight.
Olath M'elzar Valshar The Black, The Phantom Wizard: Retired Steward of the School of Necromancy and former Eye of the 7th Circle.
Rumor has it that for an instant, all was still and quiet in the Eastern District, except for one man at a outdoor tavern.
But before that instance of tranquility, a seemingly confident scamp of a halfling attempted to feign injury in order to attain something…not of his own. While indulged in his comic behavior, the patron of the warm stool and even warmer barmaid, did enjoy another fine ale…on the halfling's coin…whether intended, or not.
As J.G. Ballard has said, "It's a mistake to hold back and refuse to accept one's own nature."
