A Journey to Tantras

[FearBeforeTheFlames]

Castle Triel

8 Eleasis 1359

Castle Triel and its surrounding garrison were rollicking with frenetic activity as preparations were made for modest party to depart the grounds. Hushed words of a destination in Tantras swept throughout the camp as onlookers observed the preparations with warm regard; each passenger upon intended departure playing their role as they moved together toward intended exodus.

Wisica Weatherbee
The prospect of travel with friends and getting to see new places after having spent so long in recovery had the halfling woman in a far better mood than she had been for the past tendays. No more idle bedridden rest and long hours staring into nothing. She still moved with great help from her grandfather's old walking stick (and at times through sheer force of will), but refused to be deterred by her state in the slightest. In truth, she was more troubled over the choice of what to bring with her on the trip than anything else. In the end, she chose to travel relatively light, as she had planned on bringing back all manner of spices and other cooking related items from the journey.

As she took a moment to flip through an old book of recipes handed down through her family's generations, a sly smile grew upon the hin. She had just the thing in mind for another goal during the trip. She was going to teach Friend Maevyn how to cook at least three different dishes without bringing a health hazard to her immediate vicinity. She dismissed the brief sinking feeling in her gut. Surely she wasn't that hopeless a case, right?

After setting the book away into her pack, she slowly hobbled away to join the others - the light tap of her walking stick heralding her approach.

Maevyn and Gaven Arkalis

Gaven would see to Lute and Atraxis, checking over the horse in their entirety making sure they were ready for the road and their shoes were kept well, as well as the saddle being in good condition. Once done he saw to the packing of their horses for the road, making sure of their supplies.

"Cyfij, you have everything you need? Cards, food for the road as I know how you get. . .and me." He added quieter to himself.

He double checked all their supplies and then led the horses out for them. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out if there was anything else that was required for the trek ahead.
A familiar sense washed over the Gur woman as she packed a few odds and ends for the road. Soles repaired on boots, and leather wares tended for added protected from the weather.

On her way out of the city, she met up with Gaven. She inspected the work of the stable master, ensuring no flaws or imperfections with the newly added horseshoes. An apple was given to both horses as she adjusted the saddle and packs on each side as she whispered Gurri words of encouragement towards both. She grinned with his words about food, tapping a side satchel on Lute with a grin and nod.

Violin was carefully strapped to her back, spare strings and repair kits placed in a pouch at her hip. Her thoughts roamed of their upcoming travels and the trials she yet faced. Practiced hands worked at the strappings ensuring each pack was in place and would not shift as she gently hummed a song.
As they rode into Triel ready for what lay ahead, a soft warm smile and clear excitement for the day ahead was present on her features.

Simon Atcharn

Simon informs Ria Olwyn of his intention to travel with Alexander and the others to Tantras. The Order of the Golden Lion reside there and they are the only ones capable of repairing the weave, one of Torm's edicts passed on after his resurrection. This was a journey he must do to learn what must be done. With the instructions to hold down the fort until they return, he makes his way to Triel. On the evening prior to their departure, the priest spends his time going over the inventory for the trip from a list of essentials. Rope, hatchets, dried rations, extra tea leaves, emergency healing supplies are amongst some of the things he packs away. The emergency supplies that hopefully they'll not have to break into.

Waking up early the next day, Simon has tea with honey prepared for the rest of his companions. Opting to travel by foot, the monk does not prepare a horse for himself. His boots are checked and his stretches are performed. He readies himself for their imminent departure.

Declan Nash

Amidst the shelter of his field tent, Declan readied himself for the impending journey. He carefully folded spare clothes, placing them within his buckskin backpack, his bedroll fixed atop. Within his weathered saddlebags, he stored essential provisions - rations, a timeworn map and compass. The familiar weight of flint and steel, a promise of warmth and security, found its place alongside. A soft smile played upon his lips as he packed his field journal into a protective pocket, its pages destined to chronicle the unfolding adventure. He inked a couple of letters destined for Baldur’s Gate, to be carried by diligent messengers. With a satisfied nod, the knight gathered his possessions, the canvas tent rustling softly as he departed. Purposefully, he ventured toward the stables, where Aegis awaited to carry him on the long journey ahead.

Drawing near the stables, Declan smoothly tossed the durable buckskin backpack into the awaiting wagon. With a practiced hand, he entered the stable, his focus shifting to Aegis. The ritual began as he inspected the horse's bit and bridle, ensuring their reliability for the journey ahead. Every strap and buckle was scrutinized, each adjustment made with a precision honed by countless rides. Turning his attention to the saddle, Declan's worked on securing it in place with a practiced ease. His gaze shifted downward, examining each horse shoe with a discerning eye. Fingers traced the metal, gauging wear and tear, and he nodded with approval at their sturdy condition. Aegis shifted beneath the careful ministrations, a testament to the trust that existed between them. As Aegis stood prepared, the knight turned his attention to the steeds of his companions. He offered his assistance, standing ready to aid in any adjustments needed.

Karai

As the departure from Castle Triel to Tantras draws near, Karai immerses herself in preparations that reflect her deep connection to nature. She dedicates time to gathering a diverse array of medicinal herbs from the surrounding landscape. Each plant she selects carries a purpose, whether for soothing ailments or boosting vitality, a testament to her understanding of the balance within the natural world. In between moments of herb collecting, Karai forges connections with the horses that will accompany them on the journey. She knows that the bond between a traveler and their mount is more than mere partnership; it's a connection rooted in trust and mutual respect. Karai's gentle approach and quiet conversations allow her to establish an understanding with these majestic creatures.

Alexander Marshall

As the morn's first light painted the horizon, Marshall stood before the open drape of his tent in Trielta, imagining the quiet farming village that would one day be nestled within the heart of this land. His gaze lingered on the rolling fields that had become his home, a place where his family thrived and his duties as a protector were fulfilled. Yet, duty bind and beckoned him beyond the familiar, a time to drive forth toward Tantras, and a visit to the High Cleric within what was now known as the Temple of Torm's Coming.

He carefully polished his armor, each plate gleaming under his practiced hands. Carefully wrapped in cloth; it was packed in the awaiting saddlebag nearest the doorway as he garbed himself in more suiting travelling attire. The greatsword that leaned against the wall caught the light as he inspected its edge, ensuring its readiness for the road ahead, as he carefully ensured his cloak was fastened securely around his shoulders and checked his pocket for a treasured keepsake, left for him to carry.

On the table; maps and scrolls were spread out like a patchwork quilt of potential routes and challenges. His hands moved carefully as he rolled and secured them. A pack, filled with provisions and essentials, was slung over his shoulder. With a final sweep of the room, he took one last look at the comfort he was leaving behind before stepping out, his footfalls echoing as he set out to begin the long journey to Tantras with his companions. He set out toward Castle Triel upon his horse, Temperance, intent to greet them all with warmth before their final departure.

With preparations complete, the group gathers toward the Eastern Gate. Maevyn and Wisica sat together atop a colorful horse drawn caravan. A falcon, which may very well have been Karai was perched upon the wagon as well, prepared to take flight for forward scouting. Declan and Gaven rode ahead of the them in the vanguard, a staggered distance in mind to ambushes and other worries as they began their travel.

Simon walked, keeping flank guard with a mounted Alexander. The monk seemed to have little issue with pacing beside the horse, much to the Paladin's amusement.

And thus, they embarked; to which the road would be long. But in the company of such dear friends, it would be time well spent.

The Journey to Tantras began.

[FearBeforeTheFlames]

As the sun sets on the road behind them, the group ventures off the trail to find a spot less traveled for camp. Pulling the wagon around and tying off the horses, the group all spring into action to prepare the camp...

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Simon Atcharn: Simon goes about collecting enough wood for the evening fire. The monk makes it look simple without any tools. Quick chops of his hand detach branch from tree, targeting the dead trees to harvest. Fallen trees are dealt with in a similar manner. When the wood is brought back to the camp and piled, Simon goes about setting up some stones in a small circle. Two large logs are taken and held in his arms. His eyes close, shortly after the air around him begins to crackle as his aura ignites. The held logs burst into flames and are set neatly in the circle. Finally, it was time to make the tea...

Karai: Karai would use the opportunity to enhance their evening meal. With a slow, deliberate closing of her eyes, she surrenders to her wolf form, melding with the surrounding woods in a silent dance of fur and shadow. The forest becomes her realm, senses attuned to the rhythm of life. Patiently, she stalks her quarry, eyes never leaving the trail. After a meticulous pursuit, she emerges triumphant, her wolf shape replaced by the woman she is. Returning to the camp, Karai bears the fruits of her labors with a bounty of fresh meat ready to be cooked...

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Maevyn Arkalis: As the sun began to set, Maevyn fluttered around camp, lanterns were lit, and a perimeter was traced with her dog, Guri. The hound was set to task of circling the edge of their safety. Wards were cast to detect any unwanted guests. She tasked Declan with ensuring the tents are properly set and sturdy against any harsh weather they may face. With Karai's procured dinner, she would watch as she offered it to Wisica for preparation, in hopes of learning all she could.

Wisica Weatherbee: The little hin woman flashed a grateful smile up to Maevyn and Declan as the cooking station and the venison were provided. With some significant effort what with her bodily maladies and ongoing recovery, she dragged up a footstool towards the table and carefully ascended towards a height where she might properly work. Hefting up the vast recipebook onto the side of the table, she flipped open an old recipe of a venison stew and motioned Maevyn closer as she began quietly explaining the various steps. "Oh, could you be a dear and fetch the two sacks I had brought with us in the wagon? We're going to need some proper roots if we'll want a proper stew!" She set to work with the slicing & dicing up and searing of the meat, looking up as the sacks were placed next to the table. "Wonderful! Now come on - don't be shy, Friend Maevyn. You can join in too!" She exclaimed with a wide smile on her face as she set out another large knife with which to ruthlessly assault the root vegetables with. A few quick chops of the potatoes, rutabagas and carrots in demonstration of a roughly appropriate cut of the chunks before she let the bardess have at it. As she opened up a pouch containing several packets of spices, she quietly explained the ones she intended to use and what they brought to the meal. The importance of the searing of the meat and preserving the juices within as they were added with everything else into the stew. A splash of red wine and how it serves to highlight and complement the flavors of the meat, blending it all together into a wondrous experience. All the while as the tutoring went on, the smells of a delicious meal in the making had wafted around the camp. As it all blended together, the little priestess and the by comparison towering bardess had a taste test and exchanged a knowing look. Oh yeah, it's done. "Could I trouble you with fetching some bowls and spoons from the wagon? These poor pilgrims look about ready to jump us if they don't get fed soon." She said with a giggle. She began serving into the lined up bowls with a smile. Nourishment for body secured - and partaken with company of her fellowship of friends, for the soul as well. After each was served, she swiftly set about copying the family recipe with a few added directions. She extended the rolled up paper towards Maevyn, the Weatherbee Templehome Stew gifted to new hands.

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Alexander Marshall: As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees, Alexander took a deep breath and stepped away from the campfire's warm glow. His footsteps were deliberate and purposeful as he embarked on a quiet patrol of the camp's perimeter. With each step, Alexander assessed the terrain. His fingers traced the rough bark of trees, gauging their strength as potential anchor points for alarm mechanisms. He noted the rustling of leaves, the direction of the wind, and the rustling of unseen creatures, attuning his senses to the sounds of the dimlit dusk. His gaze shifted from shadow to shadow, discerning shapes and potential hiding spots, while his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Having circled the perimeter, Alexander returned to the heart of the camp, where his companions were gathered in low conversation. With a quiet and contemplative tone, he addressed the group. "Friends, as we settle in for the night, I propose we establish a watch schedule. I suggest two-hour shifts, with two individuals on watch at a time. Simon, Wisica, would you be willing to take the first watch?

Declan Nash: Declan would get to work unburdening the horses of their saddles and bridles. Unhitching the horses from the wagon and making sure they all were secured and equipped with feedbags with oats inside. He would then inspect them thoroughly, tending to any saddle sores and brushing out any thistle or burr. Satisfied their equine companions were comfortable, Declan would look to Maevyn for what needed done next. “You got it, sis.” as he sets to task and begins pulling heavy canvas, ropes and poles from the back of the wagon. With efficient movement he stakes the tents to earthen anchor, making sure to arrange them to catch the subtle summer breeze that blew through the camp. He would unfold cots and place them within, laying each of his companions travel bags on their respective cot. Without being asked, the energetic knight helped to unpack the tripod and hanging pot for the cook fire, erecting a small table for prep nearby. He would offer a slight smile and nod to Wisica as he completed the set up.

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Gaven Arkalis: Fingers raked through dark tendrils pushing errant strands of hair from familiar stormy gaze, a shift of attention from one person to the next as he saw each set upon something to aid or give direction for. He offered hand where it might be needed, be it aid with a tent, the food, horses, anything available. Upon mention of watch his gaze moved to those taking up the task of first then around to others. "I'll maintain the most troublesome watch." He did not so much offer as state but lopsided smile remained. Once he saw everyone, and he made certain of everyone even the stubborn folk, got their meal and before his own, made sure Wisica ate as well. He knew how those cooking could get seeing to everyone before anything is left for themselves. "Priestess Wisica, please take a moment to eat yourself, I'll handle any more dishing out at least until you are finished and wish to kick me away." He grinned.

Around the campfire, companions enjoyed their meal, their stories and laughter weaving into the night's melody. As the fire's embers dimmed and the stars remained constant overhead, the camp settled into a quiet contentment—a snapshot of shared memories etched into the hearts of friends who found strength and comfort in each other's company.

[FearBeforeTheFlames]

19 Eleasis 1359

Under the midday sun's warm embrace, the companions rode in a steady column, their horses' hooves stirring up small clouds of dust along the well-worn road. The city of Arabel sprawled before them, its imposing walls and bustling streets a stark contrast to the serene landscapes they had traversed.

The city's sentries nodded in recognition as the group drew near, acknowledging the insignia that marked them as more than mere travelers. The gate creaked open, and the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves gave way to the symphony of city life—the hum of conversations, the merchants' calls, and the distant laughter of children at play.

Amidst the city's lively embrace, the companions navigated the winding streets. The city's familiar landmarks brought forth memories of past visits and the challenges they had faced or perhaps awe in their first witnessing. It was a place of opportunity, camaraderie, and the unknown.

As they rode deeper into Arabel, the companions' presence caught the curious gaze of passersby. The city's diversity was evident in the faces that turned to watch them, a testament to the melting pot of cultures that called Arabel home.

Their journey was far from over, and the purpose of their visit to Arabel held its own mysteries. Yet, in this moment, as they rode through the heart of the bustling city, their shared experiences had led them to this point—to a city that held both challenges and opportunities, and a journey that was bound to leave its mark on each of them

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Declan Nash: Declan's footsteps led him away from his companions as he guided his loyal warhorse, Aegis, through the thoroughfares of the city. With purposeful strides, he sought to ensure a comfortable and productive stay for both himself and his equine companion. The first order of business was securing lodgings, a task that led him to inquire with guards and locals about the best accommodations in town. Their recommendations pointed him towards the renowned Falcon's Rest Inn, an establishment known for its comfort and hospitality. Declan's courteous manner and composed demeanor served him well as he negotiated arrangements for a comfortable room for the night. Recognizing the importance of Aegis's well-being, he also arranged for stable accommodations, ensuring his steadfast companion would find rest and care within the city. Having settled stable arrangements, Declan made his way to the inn's stables, where he ensured the stablemaster was aware of Aegis's preferences and needs. Satisfied with the arrangements, he took a moment to observe the conditions, ensuring that his noble steed would be well-cared-for during their stay. With practical matters addressed, Declan embarked on a journey of exploration, his steps guided by a sense of curiosity and wonder. The city's vibrant scenes unfolded before him—the market stalls adorned with colorful wares, the tantalizing aromas wafting from food vendors, and the lively conversations that filled the air. He embraced the energy of the city, immersing himself in its sights and sounds. As the day progressed, Declan's appetite grew, leading him to seek out a reputable tavern or eatery for a satisfying meal. Settling into a cozy corner, he relished the flavors of the local cuisine, finding respite and nourishment amidst the bustling ambiance. In the midst of the city's activity, Declan's heart drew him to a moment of quiet reflection. He discovered a small shrine dedicated to the Triad, a place where he could offer his prayers and seek solace. Kneeling before the altar, he expressed gratitude for safe travels and sought guidance for the journey ahead. In the hushed sanctuary, he found a connection that strengthened his resolve. As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows upon the cobblestones, Declan made his way back to the Falcon's Rest Inn. In the comfort of his room, he found a moment of reprieve, perhaps engaging in reading, contemplation, or simply appreciating the tranquility. With the dawn of a new day, Declan gathered his belongings and made his way to the agreed meeting point near the city gate. The midday sun illuminated the streets as he looked forward to reuniting with his companions, ready to continue their shared journey. The city of Arabel had offered him moments of introspection, connection, and renewal, reaffirming his faith and purpose as he embarked on the next chapter of his pilgrimage.

Maevyn Arkalis: The Gur woman was prone to wander, disappearing quickly within the hustle of the city crowd. With new recipes in tow, she sought out an inn for herself. Not for rest, but for observation and ingredients. As chance would have it, she stumbled upon one called the High Moon Inn and was immediately entranced to go inside. She remained quiet, tugging down her hood as seat in the corner was claimed. From this positioning she could see both the innkeeper and the kitchen. Parchment was procured and ink put to paper as she furiously notated each action, phrases and even bits of the innkeepers stories that he told to the various patrons. After a few candle marks, stomach protested as the aromas of the kitchen wafted by her table. Food was quickly seized along with the local ale called, Bitter Black. From the source. Not an import here, she nearly giggled to herself as she began to feel more comfortable returning to her notes. As the night drew on she offered a few songs for the hospitality she had been shown at the inn. Her violin was procured and she played until well after the moon had rose and was threatening to peek back beneath the horizon. A quick nap had her on her feet again as she sleepily traced back her steps to the caravan, opting to lean in the seat and catch a few more moments of rest before the others returned.

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Wisica Weatherbee: With a look of wonder in her eyes she slowly made her way through the streets, the steady clack of her walking stick meeting the cobbled stone beneath. She had split from the group she came with, assuring them she'd be just fine. During the Time of Troubles, Tymora herself had been seen appearing in the city and had thereafter sparked a surge in worshippers and pilgrims of the faith to be drawn to the city and it's temple - the Lady's House. Luck at it's core is a fleeting thing - and for a people as lighthearted and easy-going as (most of) the Hin, it was an attractive concept indeed. Outside of Yondalla's Children, the Tymoran faith had a great number of halfling worshippers, some who even considered the goddess to be an honorific member of their pantheon. Wisica's interest in the Lady's House had been partially piqued by the deity's rising popularity among her kin and thus decided to visit it herself. What occurred within however, was something that she remained tightlipped about. Her second stop was to sate her interest in another local wonder - the one and only - The Arabellan Cheddar. Cheese was one of the cornerstones of a happy halfling's diet, but it was more than that to Wisica. It was a rare opportunity for her to try this particular kind of delicacy at it's source - to experience and sample it at a peak freshness of the product. So ecstatic was she about the experience that she couldn't contain herself. She bought several bags of nothing but cheese, only to realize when she came to her senses that she had no way to carry most of it, let alone more than one small bag. Furthermore, her state had caught up with her with a vengeance after having wandered through the city's busy streets - the small woman's very being protesting against her audacity in going from many a tenday in recovering from grievous wounds in a still state to suddenly strolling all over a city. It was hitting her hard. She produced her Sending medallion and sheepishly mumbled into it. "Uhm.. Friend Karai, could I ask a favor? I've run into a big of a snag here in the market. There's all this important stuff that I can't carry. It's imperative that we get it back to our wagon." The stranded hin woman then stood there awkwardly, guarding her precious bounty of cheese and ruminating upon her day thus far as she awaited reply. Karai: Karai lingered not far from where their paths had diverged in the bustling city. The allure of urban landscapes had never captured her heart, and this sentiment had only grown stronger since she embraced her druidic nature. With a deliberate closing of her eyes, she entered the form of a hawk. Taking to the air, she soared toward a nearby rooftop, where she settled into a tranquil meditation. As the call of Wisica's sending reached her ears, a warm smile touched her lips. "I'm on my way, Wisica!" she responded inwardly. Returning to her hawk form, Karai soared in a graceful circle over the market. With each gentle arc, her vision scanned the bustling scene until she finally spotted Wisica amidst the vibrant stalls below. As she landed her feathers seamlessly melded back into human form, and she greeted Wisica with a grin. "Help has arrived!"

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Simon Atcharn: Simon's never been one to need to see the sights and Arabel wasn't anything that held any special interest to the monk. While his companions may have an interest in touring some of the city's known locations, there were things he could do to in the mean time. The wagon was going to need to be taken care of, as well as any supplies they may need. He takes an inventory of what's on hand, comparing it to what they started with as well as getting a list of ingredients from Wisica for food and spices she wants. While he tries to stick to the simple list, he cannot help but find value in getting a few large sacks of rice. Simple to make, easy to transport and very nutritious. Rice was a staple for him in his youth and these three bags would be enough to get them to and from Tantras. Coupled with sack of dried meat, should the hunting along the way not yield food for the evening they can all still enjoy a filling hot meal. With Wisica preparing it, the meals would assuredly be tasty. Upon completing his shopping trip the supplies are added to the wagon and the updated inventory list given to Alexander. Simon spends the remainder of his time at the wagon, sleeping in it and making sure nobody tries to help themselves to any of the cargo.

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Wisica Weatherbee: She startled somewhat at the sudden arrival, then puffed out a breath in relief. "Hearthkeeper!.. I'll never get used to you shifterfolk. Bless you for the timely arrival anyhow, I- ah... Might've overdone it." The hin woman grimaced somewhat as she looked down at her multitude of cheesefilled bags set around her. With Karai's aid however, it proved a manageable situation. Karai: Karai's eyes crinkled with amusement as she witnessed Wisica's startled reaction. She assessed the array of cheese filled bags around Wisica. "You've been busy, it seems," she remarked, before taking the bags in hand. As they embarked on the journey back to their camp, Karai matched her pace to Wisica's, allowing for necessary breath-catching stops along the way. Wisica Weatherbee: With several stops on the way for the little hin to catch her breath, the two eventually made it back to set away their bounty. A look of great relief was upon her as she found Simon had taken care of the actual groceryshopping along with a few extras. Sapped of energy entirely though, she could barely find the strength to stand any longer, let alone set out to cook meals. While a request was made by the exhausted priestess to pick up some local meal at a stand or tavern, she found little in terms of appetite herself, the need for rest taking over instead. After mere moments spent in the stillness at the caravan she was out like a light, softly snoring next to her bags of cheese. Karai: Karai's eyes softened as she watched Wisica's weariness become apparent. As Wisica drifted into slumber, Karai took her place nearby, assuming the role of a silent guardian.

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Alexander Marshall: Amid the clamor of Arabel's bustling streets, Alexander Marshall found himself contemplating the myriad possibilities that lay before him. His eyes swept across the vibrant marketplace, where merchants hawked their wares and the aroma of exotic spices intermingled with the scents of street food. Not altogether unfamiliar from the Wide in Baldur's Gate, he thought. The city's diversity was a tapestry of cultures woven together, and he decided to embrace its richness. With purposeful steps, he navigated toward a small hill beyond the gates of the city. He often found solitude and quiet to provide him with clarity. Upon the hill, he spent a quiet hour in contemplation and prayer, seeking guidance for the challenges that lay ahead. As the sun reached its zenith, Alexander returned, heartened by the moment of introspection. His path led him to a quaint eatery called the 'Two Headed Lion' known for its hearty fare. Seated at a corner table, he engaged in conversations with locals who shared tales of Arabel's history and the struggles faced by its people. Their stories resonated with his own experiences, and his time spent felt truly worthwhile. Evening drew near, and Alexander's footsteps led him to a shelter for the less fortunate, a place where the city's underprivileged found solace and sustenance. He rolled up his sleeves, joining the volunteers in serving warm meals to those in need. The simple act of extending a helping hand left him feeling enriched for the experience. As he moved to depart, he took a moment to thank each volunteer individually for the difference each of them makes. A few whispered sentiments to each, as to how duty was the tie that binds hearts to their community. As dusk painted the city's sky with shades of orange and pink, Alexander returned to the inn where his companions were staying. He shared stories of his day, recounting encounters, insights gained, and connections forged. Around the common room's table, camaraderie flourished, and laughter filled the air. In the stillness of the night, Alexander found another moment of solitude. Gazing out at the city's twinkling lights from his window, a small keepsake tugged upon chain that hung around his neck.. Each step taken in Arabel had woven a thread into their collective tale. Although there was still a long journey to come, He found himself considering those whom continue to labor on the Sword Coast. The light-dappled sky was his final consideration; quiet smile lingering as he moved away from the window to find his own rest.

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With the first light of dawn touching the horizon, the companions gathered in the inn's courtyard, their horses saddled and packs secured. The air was crisp, carrying a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. As they exchanged final words with the innkeeper and bid farewell to the cozy shelter that had briefly been their haven, their shared determination to continue the journey was palpable.

The respite of Arabel was now behind them, and the road ahead stretched towards their next destination. With purpose, they set their sights forward, the rhythmic beat of hooves on the cobbled street echoing within the morning calm. And so, as the city's awakening hum gradually faded into the distance, the companions rode forth, another path to share, with all the rigors of the road to guide them.

[FearBeforeTheFlames]

27 Eleasis 1359

The city of Ordulin bustled with life under the radiant sun, its streets weaving a tapestry of diverse voices and colorful wares. Alexander Marshall strode with measured steps, an air of purpose guiding his way through the labyrinthine alleys. A bustling market city; his attention shifted from from place to place; drawn in by the colorful stalls and ornate signage that marked each. A dusty, well-worn wooden hanging caught his eye as he entered a shop called 'Aurelian Artifacts'. A small mental amusement at the name; it worked. He was intrigued.



Within the dimly lit interior of the shop, shadows seemed to dance across the display cases, and pillars capped with pillows, each holding some esoteric medallion or dust-riddled tome of alleged lore. He walked the shop quietly, paying small compliment to the stout, flamboyantly dressed proprietor busied in the corner with another man; cowled and cloaked arguing over a jeweled cup. His hawkish gaze scanned the room; drawn to an ill-kept corner with a subtle, warmth radiating from a long forgotten trinket. A quaint strand of red beads, their size varying down the strand, ranging from smaller ones at the base to gradually larger ones as they ascend toward the center. The proprietor delighted in a grandiose description of such a humble item; to which he paid, and thanked the man before a quiet exit.



Emerging from the shop, the day gave way to evening's soft embrace, and Alexander found himself within the serenity of the inn that bore the same name; Serenity Haven. Through the common room and ascending to provided lodgings; his mind wandered to the tasks ahead. They were nearing Tantras, and though the journey had been one that brought each of them closer, he too knew that the real work within Tantras would just begin for his Tormtar companions. He took stock of the room; which was modest but comfortable, with a feather bed and a small desk; a chest with lock to house his trappings. Settling within; he set to what tasks he could accomplish.

With reverence, he carefully applied sacred oils to the intricately engraved surface of his armor, each stroke in careful dedication to the annointment. His gauntlet gleamed under the touch of his fingers, its significance intertwined with his very being. Finally the sword he carried received similar care, the blade's edge catching the fading light as it absorbed the anointing oils.

Surrounded by his trappings. The broad paladin settled himself against the floor beneath him. Resting in a sitting repose, as his breath steadied, allowing his focus to shift inwardly. He prayed as he meditated, the stillness of the air surrounding the man standing in stark contract to the gentle thrumming of the bustling city beneath, and the rowdy cajoling merriment of the Inn below. In this moment of connection, he remained still, his spirit ebbed and flowed against the currents that bound all existence together. A focus on the duty to which he believed so diligently.

Following his meditation, Alexander crossed the room to a small desk thoughtfully provided by the innkeeper. The desk held a well-worn leather book, its pages filled with inelegant, effective lettering; musing and observations from the man throughout his travels. He began to write; his short, chopped quill requiring no ink to bleed thoughts upon the worn pages. A relic from his time serving Candlekeep. Each word written was a further prayer, a guidance that he may one day hand to another, as he wrote.

As the ink flowed onto the pages, the room seemed to resonate with a quiet reverence, as if the act of writing itself was a sacred ritual. Alexander's spirit intertwined with the ink, creating a tapestry of devotion that echoed the threads of faith that wove through his soul. With the final stroke of the quill, he closed the book, its pages now imbued with his intentions and insights. With a contented sigh, he extinguished the candle's flame, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, a sanctuary of purpose and devotion in the heart of the world's bustling existence. For the next day would carry them onwards.

[BattleBee47]

As the group approached Ordulin, Maevyn remained distracted as they travelled. She would be seen scribbling notes in a leatherbound book, eyes cast to the sky while she thought. She set an easy pace for the horses and nearly didn't notice as they approached the fertile landscape. It was the bustle of the people that eventually pulled her from her thoughts. She peered at the city with a newfound curiosity as she scanned the crowd. She was searching for something among all the faces, lips pressed together tightly.

When dusky gaze did not find what she was looking for among the clamor of the townsfolk, she quickly hopped from her seat, pack was tossed over her shoulders. She would seem to be determined upon task, brows furrowed with her thoughts as she took steps that seemed too large for her normal gait.
Familiar path was taken towards northern wall to recognizable storefront. The smell of incense permeated the air with hints of the long-boiling pots of stew and roasted vegetables from nearby hearths and lodgings. Gaze lifted as slight smile pulled her lips upwards. The sign written in her native language read 'Homestead'.

As footfall took her through the doorway curtain a sense of comfort washed over her visage. Deep inhale was taken as she reveled in her surroundings. Various Gur made trinkets, balms and potions cluttered the shelves while lutes and other string instruments hung from the walls beside colorful tapestries. She cherished the memories as she reflected on her time spent here in the past. Her people would travel south as the land froze in the North. They would barter and trade their wares at shops much like this one to ensure that during the chill, each member was well fed and cared for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"As I live and breathe is that Maevy Edgar?!"

A booming voice came from behind the curtain near the counter. The woman nearly jumped from her boots in surprise. A heavyset man twice her size quickly strode over and lifted her in a bearhug that left her feet swinging in the breeze. Laughter escaped as she wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the brute.

"Durgan! It has been far too long friend."

She finally squeaked out the words as she was placed back on her boots. Her and the man chattered for many candle marks as Durgan spoke of her parent's recent visit as they prepared for a cold winter. She told the tales of the coast, the friends and family she had made along the way. As the moon rose she took her leave, only after he stuffed her pack with various trinkets and gifts. Vials, blankets, and even spare strings for her lute were tucked securely before they said their farewells.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soft exhale now left the woman's figure as she adjusted the weight on her shoulders. She squinted towards the raising moon and made haste through the crowd, a nearby inn with a tower. Coins were exchanged as she trudged up the narrow stairwell. She knew the balcony view would be worth the stiffness she felt in her calves. Travel pack, cloak and boots were quickly discarded as she went to dance in the moonlight. Candle marks passed easily on the balcony as she danced and cherished the time with her moonlit goddess. She knew the journey ahead was not one she would enjoy. Not one that she was even a little comfortable with. "It has to be done." The words repeated as she asked her goddess for the strength to persevere. As sleep finally claimed her she awoke in the morning to the warmth of sunlight fluttering through curtains. Guri curses streamed from her lips as she bolted out of the inn and across town to catch her caravan. She nearly squealed with excitement as she thought of the gifts she had obtained for each.

[Genuinely Spurious]

As the companions' journey brought them to Ordulin, the bustling capital of Sembia, Declan saw an opportunity to gather supplies for the orphanage in Baldur's Gate. With a heart full of compassion, he embarked on a mission to find wooden toys and plush dolls that would bring smiles to the faces of the children under the orphanage's care.

The city's streets were a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, as merchants peddled their wares and the aroma of various foods wafted through the air. Declan's steps were purposeful as he moved from stall to stall, his eyes scanning for the perfect items. Wooden carvings of animals, dolls with colorful dresses, and other toys caught his attention as he searched for treasures that would brighten the lives of the orphanage's young residents.

After some time, he came across a small stall adorned with an array of handcrafted toys. Declan's gaze fell upon a collection of exquisitely carved wooden animals—a menagerie of creatures from the wilds. He approached the merchant, a kindly-looking man with weathered hands that spoke of years of craftsmanship.

"Good day, my friend," Declan greeted with a warm smile. "These wooden toys are truly remarkable. You have a gift for bringing life to these carvings."

The merchant's eyes crinkled in response to Declan's compliment. "Ah, you have an eye for quality, my friend. These toys are crafted with care and precision, each piece a labor of love."

Declan's fingers traced the intricate details of a wooden bear. "I'm searching for toys to bring to an orphanage in Baldur's Gate. Children who have faced challenges deserve a bit of joy in their lives."

The merchant's expression softened. "A noble endeavor, indeed. It warms my heart to hear of such kindness. Please, take your time and choose the toys that speak to you. The joy they bring to those young hearts will be a reward beyond measure."

As Declan perused the collection, his heart swelled with a mixture of determination and hope. He carefully selected a variety of wooden animals and plush dolls, envisioning the smiles and laughter they would bring to the children's faces. With his selections in hand, he returned to the merchant.

"These toys are perfect," he said, his gratitude evident in his voice. "Your craftsmanship will surely make a difference in the lives of these children."

The merchant nodded, his smile carrying a sense of fulfillment. "May they bring light and happiness to the little ones. It's a small way to make the world a better place."

Declan nodded in agreement, knowing that even the smallest acts of kindness had the power to create ripples of positive change. With the toys carefully wrapped and secured, he thanked the merchant and left the stall with a heart full of gratitude.

As he made his way back to where his companions were waiting, Declan's thoughts turned to the children of the orphanage in Baldur's Gate. He imagined their excited faces as they received the toys, and he felt a deep sense of purpose and fulfillment in knowing that his efforts would make a difference in their lives.

[ValerieJean]

Hidden: show

As the group approached Ordulin, Maevyn remained distracted as they travelled. She would be seen scribbling notes in a leatherbound book, eyes cast to the sky while she thought. She set an easy pace for the horses and nearly didn't notice as they approached the fertile landscape. It was the bustle of the people that eventually pulled her from her thoughts. She peered at the city with a newfound curiosity as she scanned the crowd. She was searching for something among all the faces, lips pressed together tightly.

When dusky gaze did not find what she was looking for among the clamor of the townsfolk, she quickly hopped from her seat, pack was tossed over her shoulders. She would seem to be determined upon task, brows furrowed with her thoughts as she took steps that seemed too large for her normal gait.
Familiar path was taken towards northern wall to recognizable storefront. The smell of incense permeated the air with hints of the long-boiling pots of stew and roasted vegetables from nearby hearths and lodgings. Gaze lifted as slight smile pulled her lips upwards. The sign written in her native language read 'Homestead'.

As footfall took her through the doorway curtain a sense of comfort washed over her visage. Deep inhale was taken as she reveled in her surroundings. Various Gur made trinkets, balms and potions cluttered the shelves while lutes and other string instruments hung from the walls beside colorful tapestries. She cherished the memories as she reflected on her time spent here in the past. Her people would travel south as the land froze in the North. They would barter and trade their wares at shops much like this one to ensure that during the chill, each member was well fed and cared for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"As I live and breathe is that Maevy Edgar?!"

A booming voice came from behind the curtain near the counter. The woman nearly jumped from her boots in surprise. A heavyset man twice her size quickly strode over and lifted her in a bearhug that left her feet swinging in the breeze. Laughter escaped as she wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the brute.

"Durgan! It has been far too long friend."

She finally squeaked out the words as she was placed back on her boots. Her and the man chattered for many candle marks as Durgan spoke of her parent's recent visit as they prepared for a cold winter. She told the tales of the coast, the friends and family she had made along the way. As the moon rose she took her leave, only after he stuffed her pack with various trinkets and gifts. Vials, blankets, and even spare strings for her lute were tucked securely before they said their farewells.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soft exhale now left the woman's figure as she adjusted the weight on her shoulders. She squinted towards the raising moon and made haste through the crowd, a nearby inn with a tower. Coins were exchanged as she trudged up the narrow stairwell. She knew the balcony view would be worth the stiffness she felt in her calves. Travel pack, cloak and boots were quickly discarded as she went to dance in the moonlight. Candle marks passed easily on the balcony as she danced and cherished the time with her moonlit goddess. She knew the journey ahead was not one she would enjoy. Not one that she was even a little comfortable with. "It has to be done." The words repeated as she asked her goddess for the strength to persevere. As sleep finally claimed her she awoke in the morning to the warmth of sunlight fluttering through curtains. Guri curses streamed from her lips as she bolted out of the inn and across town to catch her caravan. She nearly squealed with excitement as she thought of the gifts she had obtained for each.

A man of impressive height rounded the alley corner from where the familiar woman departed after many. . .many marks. He rolled a shoulder after watching where she went til turning his storm colored gaze towards the shop, stepping in quick for a just as timely perusal likely in worry of the man closing up.

Pardon Ser. The man would speak in Guri the best way he could which was. . .not great at all and likely made the man wince. Upon noticing he rubbed the back of his neck with a hand and cleared his throat settling to common with his Damaran accent. "I was hoping to purchase a number of straps for a lute or other similar instruments? It's for the lass that just departed." Lopsided smile was given to the man as he toyed with the ring that bore Guri inscription. He looked over the options and listened to suggestions by the shop keep before purchasing about ten of them. He thanked the man for taking the time and stepped out, a glance up towards the sky in quick gauge of time. He strode through upon pathway until his steps slowed as figures stepped into his path and with a quick glance, around him as well. Then a voice rang out in Damaran.

Well well well. You know I could hardly believe my own ears when I heard a little lad was returning to the area. ." Gaven's brow furrowed as the voice rang familiar if through long distant haze of memory. "So I just had to see it for myself, see if my eyes would deceive me too!" There was a chuckle from the voice behind him as a grizzled gentleman stepped into view.

Hidden: show

"You and I my boy have a lot of catching up to do." The other men around chuckled as Gaven was circled. "Ever since you got me tossed into the cells, well I've not forgotten you. Hard to ain't that right Gavvy Boy?" Gaven's hand moved to the Lion Pommel of his blade. "What is it you want Kosef?" A coin flipped into the air and landed in the circling man's hand. "What I want? I thought you would never ask Gavvy Boy! It's simple, I want payment for all the years you had me put away. You look well off, and your Lass? Oh I am sure she's worth something or maybe just a fun bonus for my boys here. Your Ma and Pa might be good too. ." More raucous laughter around along with the gentleman, though Gaven responded differently, he pulled the quick release of his shield and brought it forth, his blade now in his hand while Kosef held both his hands up, though his men had crossbows trained on Gaven. "Woooah there Gavvy Boy! Easy does it, we're friends aren't we? Just two civil men making a business deal."

"Deal? There's no deal to make Kosef." The man feigned a look of shock. "No Gavvy Boy? See there's something you don't quite know, no one says no to me anymore. No one can toss me into a cell without my say so. You getting it now Gavvy boy?" The man made a gesture and Gaven became alert as his gaze tried to figure which was firing before he felt two stabs into him, a grunt followed.

"Those must not feel good either, feeling a little groggy? Remember this, I'll be getting my payment. We're not as far as you think Gavvy Boy." More laughter was heard before it was gradually going away. Gaven had lowered to a knee white knuckle gripping his shield and sword, quarter of a mark passed before he sheathed his blade to grab the bolt that pierced his armor at his side and the other that had pierced his thigh. The shield would be returned to his back as he placed the bolts away and with a grimace he tried to hurry back to camp.