Weave Master Role Play

[sugarandspice]

*another parcel arrives with a note*

Jonas and Alistaria

Please accept these little gifts as belated congratulations on the birth of your daughter. Apologies for the tardiness, with our own time nearing things have been at sixes and sevens with our own preparations and now with the twins finally arrived even more difficult. We look forward to seeing you all soon. Keep well and may Miliekki and Lurue guide and protect you.

Your friends
Raymond and Eleanor

*in the bundle they would find a linen baby dress, finely embroidered with the pattern of wildflowers around the neckline and a tiny crown made up of leaves that appears to sparkle with a powdery substance they might make out to be pixie dust*

[Cort Thundershot]

The work began in earnest. The great archway between the library and chapel would serve as a gateway to the lair of the ancient white wyrm. Foggy and Elias worked steadily for hours scribing runes onto the arch. One reading and pointing to runes from a particularly old tome that was buried for years within the library before this night.

"One mistake and we'll be in tha wyrm's jaws or worse!" Foggy was holding up the tome so that Elias could look as he drew near the apex of the archway.

Elias's face was covered in blue powder fallen from writing above his head. "Let us hope our research is correct, and that we do not fail our friends. This creation will be a rather large breakthrough! I think that's the last symbol."

They both stood back from the archway to examine their work. Foggy looking from the book then back to the runes several times saw one minor error. After wiping away a straight blue line the gnome replaced it with a the top half of a circle. The moment he did, the runes flashed a white, shining light starting from the sides of the arch and meeting at it's crest culminating in a brilliant flash, leaving both mages to shield their eyes from the blinding light. They exchanged smiles and nodded. This was a good start.

Foggy stood in the spell chamber at Istari Tower with his hands on his hips and an incredulous look on his face. "Why are ya puttin yer mantle up master Elias? Don't ya trust me?"

The exarch almost snorted in his responsive laughter. "Of course, though after all these years of study together, do you really need to ask me why I would use a mantle?" A merry, excited look outlined his face as he spoke.

"Ark! This ain't like the last time, but just in case I'll put mine up too!" With that Foggy raised his spell mantle, all the while wearing a smile of his own. "We need ta place tha stones in a triangle master, with tha sapphire facin us, tha pearl on tha right, and tha emerald on tha left. That'd be ma left!"

The stones were placed, and runes resembling those on the archway drawn between them. A faint golden glow emanated from the gems and runes filling the spell chamber with it's soft light.

With a raised eyebrow, and boyish grin Elias looked to Foggy. "We begin our castings now, we cast our transmutations on the emerald, and our evocations on the pearl correct?"

"Yer right master, only spell on tha sapphire will be lightning!"

After almost an hour of intense spellcasting without mistakes, sweat beaded on the brow of both mages. The chamber hummed with so much magical energy both mages could feel the drumming inside their chests and ears.

Foggy waved a hand toward the sapphire motioning for Elias to do the honors of the final activation spell to be cast. "Do tha honors master, that way ya can't blame me fer blowin up tha tower!"

The exarch examined his friend through mockingly narrow eyes as he began a simple lightning spell. A streak of piercing blue light rent the air in front of them as he finished, creating a deafening boom that rocked the chamber. The three stones began to rotate, keeping their triangular distance from each other. The runes were spinning into each other in mid air, mingling with the stones almost as if they were pouring from one stone to another. Stones and runes alike poured into the sapphire making the stone pulse with lights of different hues. Then, as quickly as it had started, the three stones lay on the floor, unchanged save for the obvious magic imbued into the sapphire.

Again the two looked at each other, this time with wide eyes. Foggy was the first to break the silence. "Ya think it's hot?"

"Well master Foggy, there is only one way to find out!" With that, Elias moved to gather the stones. "It's not hot at all, merely warm." He tossed the emerald to Foggy and placed the other two gems in his side pouch.

"It looks like we did good workin tagether again!" Foggy had his arms across his chest and was leaning on the wall. "I'm guessin the overwatch will be wantin ta place it soon eh?"

Elias smiled. "A breakthrough master Foggy! I'll seek him out at once to deliver the stone, and the news!"

[Ri762]

If one would search for Bernard at the Istari-Tower there would be nothing found but a locked door with a note pinned on it.

He seemed already troubled before the Weavemasters left to the Cloudpeaks - not paying much attention to personal matters of others, struggeling with himself - work,moodshifts,lies,suspicions,betrayal,confusement,memories, foes or friends, accusations - again and again. But even after the victorious return of the guild,the dragons killed, the objective retrieved, only a job - done - moving on.

The temple was crowded,the trial a farce, the outcome nothing but a slap in the face.

More trouble waiting at the tower,more work,more suspicions,more accusations,more lies? More wood for the fire in his mind he's trying to exstinguish.

He pins a note on the door:"gone thinkin',back in a few days"

Travelers may encounter a wolf-dog-halfbreed chasing crabs up and down the beaches of the Swordcoast south of Candlekeep.

((edit:typos - don't write something when you're already half-asleep ))

[rokranon]

The soft pat of hairy feet snuck across the stone cobbles. Looking axiously from side to side, the cloaked figure quietly reached forth her hand to open then door, then jumped back startled as the door opened of its own accord. Shaking her head, she crept inside and looked around.

"Gosh, what's with the golems?" she thought as she looked around the lobby of the Istari tower. "Well, he said he stays here so this is where I gotta leave it." She took a small scrap of parchment from a pocket in her cloak and looked at it in silence. The thoughts of many heroic adventures, inspiring deeds and tragic losses flowed through her mind. She had come so far, but did not have the luck of her Lightfoot kin.

"So many friends, lost, so many, now I lose more while they yet live. But I must..." A single tear rolled across her cheek, her eyes closed tightly and she controlled her emotions. The little hin opened her eyes and looked at her parchment one last time. The tear drop gained its strength and fell headlong at the note, blotching a small portion of the ink.

"Bah!! Drat!" the cloaked figure cursed under her breath. She reached out a calloused, battle hardened finger to wipe away the teardrop, but reconsidered. Gritting her teeth , she glanced around the foyer and nodded as she saw the shrine to Mystra.

"Well, someone's gotta find it if I put it here," she whispered, and placed the note carefully in an obvious position. Glancing around, she nodded at the lifeless guardians and made her way out of the tower. Outside, she lifted up a now well worn adventurers pack containing her familiar white platemail, folded cloak bearing the symbol of Arvoreen, and her chain coif visor poking out of the top. Making her way to the city gate, she gave the Fist guards one last smile, and turned back to look at the city that had been her home for the previous year.

"Goodbye, Baldur's Gate. You have been kind to me. But what I seek is not here. I must press on now." She looked down at her still empty scabbard and sighed in consternation.

"I am coming... I am coming..."

With that, the halfling began her stroll eastwards, not knowing what would befall her. None but the guards saw the ruddy, cheerful halfling lass depart into the darkness, with nothing but the single tear-stained scrap of parchment announcing her departure.

Dear Jonas,

I've gone home.

Ke[smudge]

Jonas Rokranon finds the note from Kemi not long after she left it. Despite the brevity of the scrap of parchment, he stares at it for a long, long time. Finally, he smiles to himself, and nods. "Ah Kemi, perhaps you will find what you seek after all. I never got the chance to tell you how much you meant to me. I have met few souls in my travels as strong as yours my friend. You prove every day that size does not matter when one is intent on changing the world around them. Kemi, your honor and kindness will ever make you a knight in my eyes, a knight of Light. I shall miss you terribly."

The paladin goes to get his traveling cloak and heads down to Gullykin to speak with the local smithy. He hands over a chunk of metal, mithral from his father's destroyed sword, and requests something of the hin smith.

When Jonas returns to Istari tower later, he holds in his hands a holy symbol of Avoreen, which he takes upstairs and adds to his collection on the wall of his family's apartment. Avoreen's symbol now resides next to Ilmater's, Sehanine Moonbow's, Mystra's, and Helm's. Jonas looks to his own holy symbol of Torm around his right wrist and smiles, then turns to his family.

[Ri762]

The sun sets behind the sea, a last salty breeze blows across the face of the man sitting on the white sand at the beach south of Candlekeep. A single seagul in the air. His hands rest on the slightly bend knees before him.

His green eye, clear and open - following the fluid motion of Innean hunting down another crab. *SNAP!*...a painful howl followed by an angry growl *CRACK!*...a smile on Bernards face as Innean runs by him, already chasing down another one. "You don't even eat 'em" he shouts behind the halfbreed with a laugh. But Innean just looks back at him,waging his tail,tilting his head, the mouth stuffed with another crab trying to snap the nose of him. *CRACK!*...the remains of the shattered hull drop to the ground. The succesful predator turns and just starts running,stopping after a few meters, turning again and making a barking sound with a demanding undertone while still waging his tail.

Bernard looks at him for a long moment without any noteable expression on his face the animal returns the gaze - no words needed - perfect communication. Innean slowly walks back to him, his disappointed eyes following a group of crabs who hope to retake the beach - for now.

He stands up and wipes off the sand from his clothes. Looking down at the little fire next to him - nearly burned down - just a bit more water needed to prevent it from flickering up again - "the sea has plenty to offer, i shall leave that to the flood, time to get back home".He wraps himself up in a grey cloak and heads to the north.

As he leaves the cloakwood, spotting the blurry skyline of Baldur's Gate in the distance he kneels down to the halfbreed. Stroking his grey-black fur, pulling his ears to provoke him, laying his hand in the mouth of the crabcracker, a few gently slaps on the side of his friend.
Bernard walks on - Innean stays - as long as he can see the silouhette of the man heading north, then disappears behind the next tree.

As Bernard is going to enter the Tower he get's greeted, "Sorry but the homeless-shelter is a bit further down the street". He stays calm, takes off his hood and continues his way through the hallway, past the suddenly silenced guards. Foggy McGee blocks Bernards way with a noisy group of his students. He briefly nods at the gnome who struggles keeping the unexperienced wizards under control."Glad ya' made it back!" Foggy says after returning the nod. "Where's she? I need to talk to her,now!" Bernard asks Foggy. "Who ya mean?" He shouts back, busy pushing the students into the classroom. "You know who!". After pushing the last student into the overfilled classroom Foggy quickly locks the door with a spell turning to Bernard "She's at tha Helm and Cloak..." Bernard turns on the point and hastes for the exit. "...ya' should read tha lett..." the last words of the gnome get drowned in the hallways of Istari.

[Blank]

Mutharin is initiated in to the Weave Guardians.

[Ri762]

Watched by a pack of wolves, two figures stand on a small hill close to some ruins in a wood near "the Gate". The soothing sound of a soft rainshower fills the air under the cloudy nightsky. They whisper - look over their shoulders - for hours.

The sound of a metallic face-mask hit by raindrops vanishes to the south, Bernard makes his way to the tower. At dawn he passes the farmlands - lost in thoughts - a letter in his hands. The once fine handwriting almost washed out by the lasting rain. Water pours down from the rooftops as he finally reaches Istari.

Bernard knocks of the mud from his boots and wrings out his cloak at the entrancehall, spraying some dirt on the clean uniforms of the guardians who just attended their shift. They give him an annoyed look, but they only recieve a grin in exchange.
He makes his way upstairs - looking for someone - but the door he knocks at turns out to be locked. He waits a few more minutes, leaning against the wall of the hallway,closing his eye from time to time - it has been a long night - but noone shows up.

After a quick breakfast at the dininghall there's only one thing to decide:
" Mmmh, my bed or the libary? "
An hour later a snoring noise can be hearn from the libary leading to Bernard, slumped on some table, a quill in one hand, a scroll in the other, his head resting on a tome with the title "index draconicum".

[rokranon]

Upon receiving a letter from Valerius, Jonas immediately begins going quickly around town gathering supplies. He is seen moving from shop to shop stocking up on items that would seem to aid in a lengthy mission. The paladin stops by Maltz's to have his armor and sword inspected. Finally, he returns to Istari tower, going straight to his quarters, and begins packing for what is to come...

[williamfredrickson]

A lone horseman, cloaked in grey, slowly walked his horse under the northern entrance of Baldur’s Gate. The moon shone brightly above, illuminating puddles of rainwater amongst the cobblestones of the wide street with gleaming silver light. A pair of sentries, huddling by a flaming brazier and dressed in the uniforms of the Flaming Fist, watched the horseman quietly as he moved through the chill night.

It was evident from both the condition of horse and rider that the pair had come a long way. The horse was splattered with mud and muck, and tattered and torn saddlebags hung from either side of the steed. Its head hung low as it walked, and its owner did little to encourage its pace.

The rider, leaning wearily forward over his saddle had a wide brimmed hat with a drooping feather pulled low over his brow. It obscured most of his face, though a shaggy brown beard, wet with moisture, was visible. The grey cloak was thoroughly damp and mud stained. In fact, it was difficult to tell if the cloak was actually grey - it could have very well once been white.

The cloak, wrapped tightly about the horseman despite the dubious warmth that it offered, was occasionally pulled aside by the slight breeze. One such gust of wind happened to shift the cloak aside as the rider passed the two sentries, revealing a white metallic breastplate. However, the eyes of the sentries were drawn more towards another sight… sheathed at the man’s side was a vicious looking sword, if one could call it that. The size and shape of the blade underneath its scabbard suggested a weapon that was more akin to a cleaver. It was a brute of a sword, a falchion, and few men had the strength to use one effectively. The wind shifted again, covered both blade and armor once more with the marred grey cloak.

Somehow, despite is apparently condition of weariness, the rider seemed to be aware of the gaze of the sentries. He turned his head slightly to peer at them, and with what could almost be a small grin on his shadowed face, he tipped his hat to them as he passed. One of the sentries nodded slightly in return.

Without pausing further, the rider continued on his way deeper into the city. The few folk that wandered the streets at such a late hour may have noticed the way the man gazed up at one of the tallest structures of the city - The Istari Tower.

As horse and rider disappeared into the streets, the younger of the two sentries, a new recruit, turned to his partner. “That fellow certainly looked like trouble… should we alert the Sergeant?”

The elder of the sentries gave a gruff laugh. “Calm down lad… didn’t you realize who that was?”

The sentry shook his head and rubbed his hands together over the brazier. “No… should I have?”

The elder sentry smiled. “Did you not see the crest of the Weave Master’s under the mud of that man’s cloak?”

The second sentry shrugged. “It was so dirty I could hardly tell…”

“Or the badge of the Weave Captain on his breastplate?”

“Well, no-”

“Surely”, grinned the older sentry, “You recognized the brute of a sword at his side, eh?”

“Now that you mention it…”

The older sentry nodded, a grin on his face. “Aye, lad, that man was no stranger to this city… he’s been gone for quite some time…”

******

An hour or so later, after he had quietly entered the Elfsong and purchased a bundle of bread, cheese and meat, the cloaked rider with the feathered hat carefully tied his steed next to a lamppost outside of the Tower of the Weave Masers. Removing both battered saddlebags from his tried horse, the rider slowly walked up to the entrance of the Tower.

The man suddenly stood stiffly to attention, and saluted both of the Weave Guardians at the entrance with military precision. Bemused, both of the guard retuned the salute, unsure of who this man was. The cloak man chuckled softly, and pulled off his hat, revealing his face.

The two guards were shocked to see the haggard face of their old commanding officer smiling kindly at them. “Captain William, sir? Is that you?!”

******

After chatting briefly with the two guardsmen, William made his way into the Tower, following the route back to his old chambers by memory. When he reached them, he found the door to his chambers unlocked. Pushing the heavy oaken door open, he smiled softly as the room was lit up by the light of the hall. A layer of dust covered everything, his cot, his desk, his storage chests. A stack of unopened letters and papers sat neatly on his desk, next to a bottle of unopened Firewall Stout. William smiled again. He had been gone for far too long…

[Blank]

Mutharin returns to the Istari tower, exhausted and covered in dust and blood. When asked what happened, he explains: 'Tha cap'n an' I fought tha mino' mage. Tha mage opened a portal ta tha Lower Planes an' outsidars came'n. We beat em back though an' then we got ta tha mage which split in ta three an' we killed em too. After tha' a horned devil came an' we killed tha' too an' then we closed tha portal by destroyin' tha book.'

Mutharin then goes up to his room shortly before leaving, if asked he says he's going to the Elfsong for a good hearty meal and an ale or five.

\\ Sorry it wasn't well written the first time. I was too tired to do it properly.

[Ri762]

An ordinary day in Baldur's Gate - birds chirp, sitting on a tree next to the Hall of wonders - the streets of the Palace-District are crowded with merchants carrying their recently earned coins to the bank,diplomats discussing the latest decissions made by the dukes, noblewoman chatting about the newest gossip.

An ordinary day in Baldur's Gate - mercenarys drag a beaten-up figure with white hair and dark skin towards a stake in front of the Flaming-Fist compound. The mob, consisting of people from all social classes cheers as the Drow gets tied to it and unleashes a cloud of spit and vegetables.

Screams of a person dying in agony mix with a disgusting smell and shouts like "BURN!" and "TOLERANCE IS TREASON!" - a bit further down the street the birds still chirp.

Listening to the twitter a well known elf heads towards the Ducial Palace, his steps are quick, a pleased smile on his face. Most people greet him while he makes his way to a meeting.

"Good Day Ambassador! We almost thought all the things achieved by the Wyndsouls were lost. It is a good thing that someone continues this campaign and keeps the folk awake."

The diplomat returns the compliment with a thankful nod as a hooded man jostles against him. He makes a grumbling noise and mutters before he moves on to the East-Gate-District, leaving the elf behind:

"Sorry Sir, i didn't saw you coming."

[[pm sent]]

Moving with swift steps, Bernard makes his way to the Istaritower. Most of the young mages are busy attending their classes, the hallways are quiet.
On his way up to his private rooms a wall of text catches his attention, suspended magically from one of the walls. Tipping his chin with a finger a smile curls up on the corner of his mouth. While he continues to walk down the hallway he mumbles into his beard:

"Seems like it payed off to carry this dead ass all those miles to the temple, i better have a chat with the Cap'n about this, but first..."

Before Bernard knocks at the oaken door of an old friend he stops by his own chamber. Five minutes, two overthrown lockers and one messed up room later, he enters the quarters of Captain William Frederickson, a bottle filled with a clear fluid in his hands. The white tag on it is labeled with red letters. It reads as followed:

"Welcome-back-booze"

wear gloves when you're pouring this

"Hey Captain, long time no see!"

[SteelForgedSword]

*a large hawk lands in the window of the Istari Tower, screeching loudly on Weave Captain Williams window*

((PM sent))

[williamfredrickson]

*a large hawk lands in the window of the Istari Tower, screeching loudly on Weave Captain Williams window*

((PM sent))

*rising from his bed, Captain William quickly opens the window, and let's in the large hawk. He stares curiously at it for a moment, and them with a smile, he reads the message that it brought.*

[Ri762]

A few days ago...

The night is clear, Selûne high above the sky - illuminating the quiet streets of a city which slowly set to rest after a day full of ups and downs.

People who pass the Istari-tower might hear the curses of a man groaning in pain - Bernard, sitting on a stool on the balcony near the spire.

He adjusts the bandages which were applied by a healer in the temple of Tyr just hours ago. His fingers slide slowly across the bruised skin on the left side of his torso, trying to feel how many of his ribs Ujio managed to crack within bits of seconds before High Mage McGee was able to chain the furious warrior with a mighty spell, eventually giving Bernard and Seadin the opportunity to apply a fatal strike. After he feels the fourth broken bone he stops the self-examination, pours the strongest elven wine he could find into a jar instead and emptys it with a swift swig - numbing his senses for a short moment before he puts on his dark-blue armor - this is going to get painful.

Several alleys away, distant from the tower, a mother is tucking in her kids and telling them a good-night story.
As Bernards unspeakable mix of swearing, yelling and groaning reaches the open window her eyes widen and she quickly jumps up to close it as fast as she can. Her youngest boy looks up to her from underneath the blanket: "Mommy what's a ...... ....... ............' son of a ..........-........ ...........?" He looks at her curious and innocent, her answer is not known.

Meanwhile Bernard leans with his arms on the edge of the balconys walls. His head tilted downwards, his face slightly grimacing,his breathing slow.

A few cloudshreds gather in front of the moon. He is looking across the rooftops as the sudden snarl of an annoyed cat draws his attention, the marks of the fight from the day are forgotten - someone is lurking around the tower.

As he sees the shadow disappear behind a corner near the fountain close to Istari. he turns with a swift movement - wasting no time - heading downwards. A quick hand-gesture towards a pair of guardians standing close to the armory - the sound of hasting men wearing heavy boots and armor echoes through the hallways - as they reach the mainhall they stop - silence - the guards take up positions next to the door they came through. Bernard looks alerted across the room, his right hand at the grip of a dagger which is holstered just over his hip, his left gestures the men to observe the room and remain silent.

The door to the tower jumps open, the guards aim their weapons towards it - ready for a fight. "THERE HE IS!" shouts one of them with the anxious voice of a young guardian. "Ya reckon right! It's ma! High Mage McGee himself!"

The gnome just returned from an expedition with an unknown destination and hadn't had the chance to visit his home after his arrival to the city. He speaks with a calm but carpeting manner to the young man, tilting his head to the right giving a wink towards Bernard followed by his sight moving into a shadow "Ya greet all o' ya superiors with a spear to tha face?"

Bernard returns the short wink of Foggy with one of its own and speaks calm to the guards who look embarrased across the mainhall: "It's all good now, probably just false alarm - it was a long day you know, you did nothing wrong. With all the rumors floating around..." One of them interrupts: "...what rumors,Sir? Uhm...if i may ask." Bernard gives him a man-nod before he replys: "Hasn't the Captain informed you yet? There's a rumor about a group of bandits who disguise as members of the Weavemasters and the Flaming Fist. They ambushed and robbed hapless adventurers on various occasions along the sword coast. I suggest you retake your positions near the armory, for now." Bernard speaks the last words and gestures the men to leave, quickly locking the door to the inner parts of Istari behind them - the holster carrying his dagger just moments ago is empty.

As the heavy doors finally closes, Bernard rests his hand on the stone and turns his head slowly towards a dark spot in the corner of the mainhall.

He makes a few steps backwards to the center of the hall - his view still focused on the corner.

With a swift movement of his left arm he barely adjusts, rather throws, his cloak, at the same time drawing a straight metal club with his right - the view still directed on said corner, the club pointed at it, he speaks: "Now to you!"

The gnashing of teeth can be hearn from the darkness, followed by the forceful sound of an angry drawn blade. Seconds later a hooded figure emerges from the shadow into the blue glow eminated by the shrine of Mystra. The figure speaks with a sarcastic tone: "You think you can stop me? A one-eyed bum? One scratch with this and..." Bernard replies, a cold grin on his face: "Maybe not..." he points at the drawn weapon of the man, as a green fluid is dripping from it "...a nice knife you have there. Maybe i can show you mine some time. By the way, do you remember the gnome who opened the door?" The figure nods once, focused on Bernard, ready to strike. "still want to see my knife?" The hooded man tilts his head in a brief movement of confusion - Foggy McGee, concealed by a common invisibilty spell, knows that he has to use this moment and puts Bernards dagger to the throat of the thief: "Ya dont move o' ya dead!"

A deadlock - armed with a poisened blade, knowing that a scratch might be enough to scat away,a dagger to his throat,threatened by two, a moment of despair - the split of a second turned into a feeled hour.

A decision - Out of a sudden the man swirls uncontrolled with his blade, forcing the invisible gnome to pull back his arm if he wants to avoid the poisoned weapon. Quick-thinking Foggy doesn't hesitate to hit the backside of the mans knees with a quick blow, causing a collapsing reflex to the legs of the bandit. On his way to the ground his face meets the end of Bernards club. High Mage McGee takes a firm grip on the dagger in his hands and makes sure the bandit stays down. They look at the dead body, nothing to be happy about - minutes of silence pass.

After shaking of their thoughts they quickly start to search the corpse - some equipment, weapons, more poison, and a unsigned note assigning the mission to "get more" - nothing of interest.

Except for the boots, as they unstrap them fine white sand falls to the floor. Bernard has seen it often before.

The two friends exchange a few words on how to handle this situation and agree that they have to act fast. All they have is the sand, a slain thief and his gear.

Minutes later they reach the farmlands, hastened, concealed and protected by the powerful magic of the little Weavemaster. Still the distance to their target is long enough to have a little chat while they pass the trees of the forrest along the swordcoast with unnatural speed.
They reach the coast south of Candlekeep in the same night, the sky almost completley covered with clouds, only now and then a ray of light hits the fine white sand which covers the beach. The surge drowns the few noises they make while they observe the ado near the campfire they just spotted.

To be continued...

[[ i m too tired at the moment, will post the "rest" another time ]]

[williamfredrickson]

///Excellent write up! Can't wait for the rest!