It would seem like just another quiet star filled night in the pleasant little town of Soubar. Within the horizon a few merchants with heavy packs and even heavier wallets make their way into town unpacking various items and bartering with the locals people, mercenaries and traders alike in some odds and ends. After some time purchasing and selling goods of their own they make way south into the night's veil entering the darkness...
As the merchants made their leave even darker rumors began to echo as the eyes of the townsfolk within the Winding Way Inn who soon spoke of a rumor of a man attacked in the area by strange forces. The whispered rumors speak of him taking a seat at a table beaten and bloodied with large syringe whole punctured into his armor causes the drip of the blood to stain the very floor he took step upon. It was quite the sight to behold that the man could even stand in his current state before gaining aid.
A omen of peril some say...
Others remark it as just -another- unfortunate event.
Of a man, and playing card left on his table - three crudely drawn letters carved on the back.
I . O . U
Last edited by Rain on Mon Apr 01, 2019 4:05 am, edited 2 times in total.
Bob groggily awoke on the cold and bloody floor of Bane's Ruin, groaning, he muttered the necessary incations to close his more grievous wounds. He would then slowly empty a minor potion of restoration, allowing him to crawl towards the stairs, where he used the walls as support. Half walking, half crawling he'd reach a couch only to crash on it, almost crushing it under the weight of himself and his gear. Bob would wake up later, just in time to meet a humongous figure in dark plate. The two would talk briefly of the what went on, all the while Bob would be seen eating and drinking water at slow pace. After showing a card to the other man, the two of them would leave the inn, with Bob having most of his wound closed, but not fully healed. The pair would later be seen talking to a local priestess, who casted many recovery spells on Bob.
Aurelien Amon: Human fighter, member of the Whitewood Vanguard, Hoarite
Lotrik: Not a wise Genasi, probably stronger than you tho, a master of longswords. Fully retired
Bob Thairo: Dreadknight of Bane, Back on the Coast, tyranning away with his wife
Atop mighty Darkhold a bare chested Thayan warrior stands in the blizzard. His shield arm hangs numb at his side. The armpit is black with bruising and a deep puncture wound has spilled much now dry blood down his flank. The man is as pale as a corpse as he stares over the vast and stormy horizon like a great wounded black eagle - his bleary kohl-lined eyes endlessly searching.
A small group of physicians in black robes stand patiently at the way down into the castle and await the stubborn knight to turn himself in for their care.
South of Beregost, Audree awoke surrounded by traveling companions who were tending to her injuries. The pains settled in moments after as her body was sore all over and weakened. Were it not for a Helmite she traveled with, she most likely were to pass. Her mind raced with confusion, fear, and rage but those with her calmed her nerves.
Krumarth Sorth: Orc Wizard Audree Behiz: Guardian of the Slumbering Fire Quinn Hijo: The Mind Mage Razzaband Arashem: Dead Mathew Hillock: Dead
It would seem just another day in the sword coast. The skies are clear with Lathander's light shining onto the lands below. It was a beautiful day indeed...
Until the lights dimmed and the night gave way to darkness....
Screams of terror and the sound of battle is heard nearby the Friendly Arms Inn. The sky lite up in fire-work like colors by way of magical spells and fire-lite arrows. The sound of battle echoed on for hours, as the screams for help and the roars of many battle-cry raise from the vicinity of the Woods of the Sharp teeth. Anyone nearby the friendly arms area would soon notice many knights, rangers and common people rush back and forth from the forest requesting aid and swords all night to combat what they would seem to call a "Monstrous Spider".
After many hours of the night the darkness soon dissipated as Lathander's light began to rise over the lands once again and with it the end of the battle within the forest nearby the Friendly Arms.
A rumor soon spreads of countless knights and rangers being attacked within the forest, almost all of them minorly or gravely injured. Others seeming paralyzed with some sort of potent disease which took strong clerics and doctors to cure.
After the battle many rangers spread out to survey the area. One lone ranger who scouted north soon found something strange...
Under cover of darkness am Uthgardt barbarian and a Luskan wizard had sought out the crypt at the fields of the dead looking for treasure.
Not an unusual sight, even if the pairing was a strange one.
Suddenly as they were about to enter the crypt a huge grey demon emerged and politely informed the pair that they were about to join the dead.
Fighting broke out, the Luskan wizard fled, the barbarian stood his ground and fought.
The mage escaped and when he returned later, he found the Barbarian alive, allthough with a strange puncture wound in his shoulder and blood splatters around it.
A card featuring the Jack of hearts had been left with the Barbarian presumeably in exchange for some of his blood.
Only time will tell what this demon will do with the blood of the barbarian and maybe more concerning, when it will strike again.
Down the Lions Way trail, a Lathanderite walked proudly with his deity's banner held high. He noticed a figure farther down the trail using arcane magic to ward himself, as he approached the figure suddenly shifted into a monstrous grey demon. The Lathanderite raised his shield and drew his sword.
Not long after, silence fell over the trail leaving behind a bloodied man clinging on to life and a jack of hearts with the letters I.O.U carved into card. The Lathanderite had been left to die with a deep puncture in between his plated armor. Luckily for him a Lady came walking down the trail and mended some of his wounds. However the man seemed to still have some sort of nasty disease.
The lady helped the Lathanderite to the nearest temple at the Friendly Arm Inn where the priest was able to cure the mans disease and further mend his wounds.
Zeland Belord:High Priest of Darkhold. Servant of the Black Hand.
Merlin Majika:White Wizard of the Coast. Archmage for the Temple of Mystra.
Benton Lionheart:Dawnbringer. Faithful of the Morninglord.
I was doing my typical patrol through the gate's graveyard before going to the underground passages where I heard a second pair of sloshing water behind me. Turning around I encountered what was later called a horned devil-like creature that spoke about having business with me and demanded that I dropped my arms. Refusing when Abraxsis Dul'Khan came to investigate why I was taking to long on the other side and heard me speaking to another. We engaged the creature, it phased from few as it fled into the dark beyond where I could see it and reappeared and a black and red spider. Subduing my ally in web and called a spell that paralyzed me from moving and weakened me to the point of collapsing and blacking out. Upon waking with others around and the creature gone bleeding from a pinprick on my neck and droplets of blood still oozing out. We fled to the surface then, and I to the chapter house to rest and recover.
I would hereby strongly suggest that no one ventures out alone and keep an eye out for the black and red spider or the horned winged creature, it's some sort of phasing caster is all I found out about it...
Avlyvire Xillynn
Alyvire Aramoria Wysalrth Retired Makenzie Chersk Marmiea Retired Valkira Vexx Church of Shar '17 -
A man with antlers and white hair could be seen speaking with town criers Baldur's Gate and handing them some gold, spreading word of a capture of a druid that has been attacking travelers and to check the bulletin board for more information. Upon the bulletin board would be a new message reading...
The man calling himself Larfleeze Hamoa that has been attacking travelers up and down the coast is currently in custody of the Fist, but only for a day if witnesses don't come forward. If you or anyone you know of has been attacked or threatened by the man, go to the Fist and tell them what you have seen. The more the better. With any luck he'll find his end.
The man, seemingly a druid, wears a mask and goggles, carrying around a shield as well. He shifts into different forms, ranging from a spider to a gargoyle and many more. He's been known to cast an acidic storm spell among others while shifted. He steals blood from and leaves poisons and diseases within whoever he leaves alive.
A man slowly approaches the cell that currently holds the criminal Larfleeze Hamoa within, the guards watching over the prison would likely notice a conversation taking place between the two. A few words are shared, although the one held captive seemed more annoyed then enthusiastic about the conversation. Before long a playing card is slid under the cell bars towards the conversationalist outside. . .
Audree would approach the Fists in the city to report her experiences with the man
"The man you hold here Larfleeze Hamoa is not to be underestimated nor let free to continue his attacks against the people of Western Heartlands. He has attacked me not once, but twice. The first he fooled me with the form of a mindflayer and vanished into the shadows, only to come back in his true form, the one you see now. Were it not for my companions who came back for me, I would be dead. This attack was somewhere south of the town of Beregost. The second he came for others in my traveling group, attacking us in one of the many tunnels found in the rocky maze of the Troll Claws. This time he had taken the form of a spider.
This man is capable of summoning powerful storms and during the second attack I saw him spread disease to others. Take him seriously."
Krumarth Sorth: Orc Wizard Audree Behiz: Guardian of the Slumbering Fire Quinn Hijo: The Mind Mage Razzaband Arashem: Dead Mathew Hillock: Dead
* Alyvire would resubmit her report to the fist and answered any questions about the man currently held in prison. About where she was attacked in the underground passages from the graveyard cave to the bridge at the trade way connected by the well. She doesn't feel sick or unwell luckily the attack was interrupted by another adventuring group appearing. Appearing first as a horned devil before taking the form of a spider and using the storm to stop her in her tracks. Though he escaped from her unconscious self and others at that time.*
Alyvire Aramoria Wysalrth Retired Makenzie Chersk Marmiea Retired Valkira Vexx Church of Shar '17 -
On Tarsakh the 6th, later in the morning, a certain icy incantress stands before the front desk of the Flaming Fist's fortified headquarters. Folding her hands in front of herself and seeming ill at ease amidst such an imposing place, she gives her testimony about the various times she encountered the shapeshifting plague-carrier now known as Doctor Larfleeze.
"Ah, hello Ser Guardsman. My name is Ilysthel or Ily or Ilys or Lys or Lysthel or.... you know, let us simply stick with Ilysthel, yes? 'Tis the one that's not-a-nickname and you probably want that one for official-ish things..." She takes a deep breath, and her steadying sigh expels a small plume of frigid vapour, as though she were standing outside in the dead of winter.
"When first I happened upon this beast of a man, 'twas in the Sharptooth Forest, yes? My friend Miss Suspiria and I had just been into the den of orcs, on a bounty job from your very own Ser Captain Norton, and when we came out, there was a pitched battle in progress..! In the form of a big red spider, he assaulted a party of no less than four adventurers, wielding a spell of the ninth circle, a Storm of Vengeance. He escaped, leaving Ser Bob and someone I don't know grievously wounded. Ser Maeron was there fighting as well, and... I've not a name for the other present.
Later that very day, this situation stormed into my sights again, at the bridge along the tradeway, the crossroads east of Candlekeep. Ser Maeron and his large friend, wielding a larger hammer, faced off against a hulking reddish demon -- it seemed they had tracked him from the woods, mayhap? I cannot say for certain, as I arrived late. Under invisibility I watched, in case Ser Maeron and friend needed aid, but to my surprise, no fight broke out, yes? I quickly vacated the vicinity with a door of dimensions, having no desire to die on a bridge to some demon.
...'Twas a few days before I encountered the plague-passer again, this time in the mines within the cloakwoods. With me was Miss Scath, Ser Desmond, and... a blonde swordswoman with an orange cloak, whose name I cannot recall but I knew her as 'Miss Pedestrian.' Don't ask, yes? 'Tis my more mercurial of mindsets, to distribute nicknames...! At any rate, this time, I had a spell of truesight upon me, and I saw within the horned, winged form the shape of a man in goggles and a facemask, with an unmistakably strange armour design. He threatened us, but for reasons I can't begin to guess at, 'twas the extent of his transgression that day.
The fourth time I saw him may not be entirely relevant, but he was... untransformed, yes? Apparently, he must have felt confident enough that his crimes were attached only to his transformed shapes, that he walked right past the Fist patrol in the Eastern Farmlands, past a campfire of adventurers, and even past the gates to the paladins' quarters, completely undeterred.
I hope all of this helps, yes? 'Tis my first time ever testifying like this, and I hope I haven't erred..."
Time passes by within the jail cells of the Flaming Fist Head-quarters. The daily life of captivity is quiet and blissful, when the other captives aren't screaming about the innocence. The cells open for breakfast the ill-minded eat and we return. . . The cells open for lunch the like-minded eat and we return. . . The cells open for dinner we eat and we return. The pattern of the damned slowly unfolds day by day, night by night, as the prisoners within the jails continue their mediation, preparation and remorse.
Slowly a dance is taking place outside the eyes of the many guards within the jails. . .
Before long the guards overlooking the prison dinning hall would likely notice something strange occurring within the jails. Two prisoners bearing a strange accessory gather their breakfast meals, sit and quietly converse between each-other. They eat quickly before standing and splitting their separate ways into their cells.
As lunch comes around the captive men and women return to the dinning hall, the two individuals from before return and take their seats from before, they eat slower this time. . . Until they are soon joined by two other prisoners at the table. All of them bearing that same strange looking accessory around their wrist before finishing their food quietly, standing and leaving to their cells.
Dinner. . . The men and women return to eat, as do the group of four now eight. . .
They eat quietly, stand and leave.
All bearing that same strange item tied around their wrist as before. . .
