En Dharasha Everae RP thread

[Nomster]

Ameris would have been seen leading the campsite and the forest the previous day, leaving Telia with looking after Herran. She would politely asks any elves to leave or keep their distance, apart from Aeili, Nai and Mendel. The others, she does not appear to trust at all.

In Herran's lucid moments, she would ungag him and chat lightly of things. She would gather together grasses and flowers and make little figures of them. Fairies and magical boats, animals and all kinds of things. If Herran was lucid enough and wanted to, she would bind a rope around his waist and tie him to a thick root of a tree and unbind his hands, so that he could make grass figures with her. She would keep a Silence spell and a Bigby spell at hand, if Herran tried anything (but he may have refused to be unbound and happy to simply watch her).

If Herran had his bad moments, she would sing softly to him.

As night falls, the priest has not returned. Telia goes around the camp, re-newing Alarms and casts Light on stones to illuminate a far area around the camp. She then sits just outside the entrance to Herran's tent, a mandolin in her hands and scans the trees. If any elves would remain nearby, at a distance, they would notice that she was up all throughout the night. Sometimes she played her mandolin, as if to keep herself awake. If any elves were visible to her, she would eye them with suspicion.

As morning arrives and then the day goes by, Telia would continue to tend to Herran and still ask the elves apart from a few to keep their distance. There is no sight of the priest still.

[paw]

The more time they spend in close proximity, Telia would probably pick up on a few things .. things that would either maintain his lucidity .. or drive him to his crazed state.

As long as he is not allowed to move about, he seems to maintain his control, and would very likely allow himself to be unbound, though he would give tips as to how would best be the way to tie him to the root so he cannot get away. ie... make sure the rope is tied on the far side where he has -no- chance of reaching and untieing it.

The music she has already found helps him when he is troubled. As they have also learned that over loading him with too many questions or causing him to concentrate too hard also sends him over the edge. She might also find, however, that if he should simply become overly tired, his mind would wander off? ... or even move to a different time as if he were living in the past.

Herran being Herran is easily entertained and would of course wish to continue working with Telia on her mandolin lessons. He would laugh and work with her on the grass figures, hopefully she catches him before he attempts one that requires a good amount of concentration to make.

Through her wariness their time spent there would pass with only minor problems as long as no dangers or argumentative encounters happen along.

[Empoweredfan]

Now and then, a green skinned wood elf in heavy whool robes and an old hat would wander in, leaving baskets made of straw, filled with honey tasting pastries for the visitors. Saying little, and only a choise few words in elven, before wandering off again. Leaving more often than not, wet footprints in her wake.

[Nomster]

Telia would be very wary of the elf with a straw hat but she realizes the need for food, so accepts the elf's presence. She politely thanks for the honey cakes and upon noticing the elf saying something in elven, she repeats her thanks too - in elven. Her elven would be a bit poor but she would make herself understandable.

The honey cakes are then taken inside one of the tents where the sorceress tries to stealthily cast a Detect Poison on them. If she finds nothing wrong, she eats one and offers Herran another.

[Tsidkenu]

The Mystran priestess offered a few hushed words to Telia as some of the elves came and went.

"Oh you do not need to be afraid, Telia. That is Deleniel," she said of the sodden female green elf. "She cooks for us in the village; there is nothing to fear in what she has prepared for you!" she remarked with a light laugh before turning her attention to the bound bard.

"Herran, is it?" Aeili asked the man directly with slightly raised eyebrows and a placid, welcoming look on her face. "My name is Aeili, one of the residents of the Elven settlement not far from here. I do happen to be a friend of Telia's, so I hope you can trust me as much as you trust her."

"I believe you have been brought to this place in order to aide your recovery from some. . . ailment? Are you able to tell me anything about it?" she asked him further with the diplomacy and tact of a doctor gently quizzing a patient in the hope to find a diagnosis.

[paw]

Yes, my dear sweet lady, Herran is my name. He offers with a wide smile and as eloquent a bow as he can muster being tied to a tree.

Aeili ... such a beautiful name, reflecting that which i see before me ... a wondrous beauty that I shy away from as I am truly unworthy of being too near ... one could easily allow thoughts of soaring through the sky, dancing with the wispy clouds on a sunny day. He bows his head once more to her, the joy in his words very much showing through in his eyes.

As for trust? He chuckles lightly I have twice in my time since arriving here on the coast been declared elf friend ... I do not fear my friends, but even if this were my first meeting with your kin ... I have known Ameris and Telia for many years, and already trust them both with my life. I know they would not have me here if they felt in the least that doing so would place me in harms way.

He pauses at the last, frowning slightly as he thinks. As for what ails me? -What- happens to me I only can say from what I have been told, for I do not remember one episode to the next. He sighs and pauses a moment longer, which may cause Telia a bit of concern, but then smiles.

What may actually work ... is a tale I told in the theater once, about how I came to be here on the coast. The tale, while greatly exaggerated for entertainment purposes. He smirks Is none the less based on the truth. The problem I am currently having now though. He takes in a deep breath Is at present ... -I- do not know what is truth ... and what is exaggeration.

Without even realizing, he slips into a theatric voice and begins his tale.

One day while out exploring a valley. I came upon a clearing.

In this clearing was a small cottage. Quite a lovely place to look upon, so I went up to see who lived there.

I knocked on the door and heard no answer so I decided to leave and come back at a later date, but, as I was coming around the corner of the cottage, I froze in my tracks.

My skin began to crawl with the feel of evil as somone else entered the clearing.

I quickly ran back around front and entered the door, hoping to hide.

But, what I saw inside was absolutely horrifying.

I knew at once that the one who had just entered the clearing must surely be the one who lived here, so I quickly found a closet in which to hide.

It was my plan to just hide there for the briefest of moments and slip away when the evil one had passed and gone into another room.


So I waited ... quietly ... for what seemed an eternity ... but then ... I started to hear voices ... from within the closet!

They were not loud boisterous voices shouting out warnings, but, hushed voices obviously not wishing to be heard by the one outside.

So, out of my own curiousity, I inquired as to who they might be.

I was truly amazed as to who I found ... or mayhaps I should say ... -what- I found.


For the voices came from brooms ... -witches- brooms.

We introduced ourselves and continued to talk in hushed tones.

I found that the two brooms, though only recently acquainted, were falling very much in love.

They were making plans together as Bridebroom and Groombroom.

We all talked for a long while, almost forgetting where we were and who was just outside the door in the other room.

Things started going awry, however, when we began talking of their wedding plans.

The Bridebroom told me of her beautiful dress and the Groombroom of his tuxedo.

But then the conversation began to grow louder as the Grombroom started to become agitated when the Bridebroom began talking about the need for a bigger closet.

The Bridebroom stating that the need would be so as to make room for the immeniant arrival of the little Whiskbrooms.

At that the Groombroom completely lost it and began shouting at the top of his voice

... -THAT- IS -NOT- POSSIBLE ... WE HAVE NEVER EVEN -SWEPT- TOGETHER!!

At that very instant the witch flung open the door to see what all the comotion was about.


The Groombroom took to flight, and me of course not wanting to face the witch myself grabbed ahold with every bit of strength I could muster.

Off we flew, out of the closet, smashing through the front window and soaring up into the sky, the witch behind us flinging curses and casting spells and me singing and holding on for dear life!

We flew up over the trees ... the mountains ... and finally out over the sea, until finally just as I felt I could hold on no longer ... we landed ... just outside of Baldurs Gate.

At present I can longer remember the name of where I am from.

While I can describe it and remember it well ... I truly have no recollection of where it is, or how to return.

It would seem one of the curses flung was to never be able to find a way back.

The Groombroom itself flew off not long after depositing me here, so I know not if it ever returned and made up with the Bridebroom

As his tale finishes, the focus of his eyes seem to be somewhere -very- distant. He no longer sees or acknowledges any around him, simply looking right through.

[Nomster]

Much to Telia's relief, Ameris would have returned before a second day passed. She still looks very tired, only having a moment's rest.

When Aeili comes around again, she gives her a wide smile. She then looks a little bit ashamed as the priestess has caught on her caution and well, paranoia regarding the other elves. "Miss Deleniel made lovely honey cakes. So lovely, there are none left now, in fact."

She listens to Aeili and Herran talk, seeming to have been deciding that Herran has had enough rest and they now must face with the difficult questions. When Herran compliments Aeili, she looks amused as it is a typical Herran-like thing to do. She smiles warmly when he speaks of trusting Ameris and herself.

As Herran tells the tale, she listens and giggles about the brooms and Whiskbrooms even though she has heard the story before. When he finishes the story and looks unfocused, she is worried and reaches for the gag. She pauses however, looking at Aeili. "Maybe... you should see what it is like? If it might help somehow. I trust you are warded against sound magic...?" If Aeili was not, Telia would offer to ward her.

[Tsidkenu]

The Mystran carefully noted Telia's words of caution and handed the hushthorn tea to Telia, hoping it could be administered before Herran's gag was affixed once more.

"Look up, Telia," she said, motioning to the immense tree under which they sat. "Would it not be a travesty to see some measure of harm come against this place if what you suspect were to happen?" she remarked with a bit of a sigh and stood, taking several steps back. Her fingers twitched in readiness to direct a Silence spell in Herran's direction, just in case she thought it truly necessary.

"It was an intriguing story," she mused, "and easy enough, I suppose, to determine the truth of it. Tell me, have either Ameris or you sought to analyse the magical threads of this supposed curse? I cannot imagine, if the witch was truly the cause of this, that something would not come up."

[Invoker]

Ameris would have been seen leading the campsite and the forest the previous day, leaving Telia with looking after Herran. She would politely asks any elves to leave or keep their distance, apart from Aeili, Nai and Mendel. The others, she does not appear to trust at all.

The dark-robed mage who was most likely the main source of Telia's concerns smiled sardonically under the face mask as she politely asked him, for the love of all that's holy, to get out of her sight:

"How peculiar...with you being a former Zhentarim Magus, one would think it is I who should be displaying trust issues...Either way, I'll gladly grant you your wishes. My time is too valuable to spend it as a bodyguard.

Besides...I have a war to plan."

With that, he would turn around and glide away, disappearing in the misty glade like a fading nightmare right after having a word with the rangers watching over them.

[mrm3ntalist]

Mendel catches up with the Archmage Kael as the wizard was heading back into the village. With his arms crossed over his chest, he listens about what transpired at the War Council and with the visitors outside the village.

"Trust?" Says questioningly with narrowed eyes

"What does trust have to do with anything? We dont ask to be trusted. We bring results and that should be enough" taking Kael's report he heads towards the Seluonal's office

"I will address those trust issues my friend. In the meantime, you have far more important things to spend your time on" says over his shoulder as he walks away

In his office, he hastily writes a letter addressed to the Dukes (( Subject: Formal Letters to the Dukes of Baldurs Gate )), wears his Harpers' pin and treestride's to Thundars Ride.

[Invoker]

The Archmage spares one of his rare smiles for his friend, amused resignation in his eyes, before nodding and gliding away in his usual spectral walk.

[Invoker]

As I Lay Dying Pt. II

Voices. He thought he could hear voices. Soothing, comforting female voices...two of them. But what were they trying to tell him? They were too far to hear clearly...if they even existed. And funny he should say that, since the one who was certainly no longer existing was him.

Don't leave...

He had never been particularly ordinary in life, and yet he had never thought he would go so completely and utterly insane after dying that he would have voices inside his head. He had never used inherently evil weaves, dabbled with blood magic (well, not significantly, at least) nor desecrated the sanctity of souls. He had respected the Seldarine, and learned to craft and discover with the Art, rather than destroy: he was an Archmage of peace, a shaper of worlds, a bright mind and an enlightened discoverer of the intricacies of the Weave and Nature, and the balance between them.

Come back...

Much good it had done to him, or even worse, those he loved: Kalinor razed to the ground...Dharashan blood flowing on the frozen slopes of the Cloudpeaks...
How did his vast knowledge serve him, as the poisoned orcish arrow numbed his limbs, making him powerless to stop his homeland's destruction? How exactly did his technically perfect weaves help, when the Trickster's lackeys crushed his loved ones before his eyes, and then struck him down too, as he tried to carry them to safety?

Please, don't go...

He should have felt serenity, now that all was over. He should have walked peacefully in the Seldarine's embrace. He should have entered Arvandor with a smile. But the truth was, he did not feel serene, peaceful and calm. He was ashamed for being unable to protect them. He was bitter for leaving them in the moment they needed him the most. But even more so, he was furious.

Stay with us...

He laid a hand on the gate, standing wide open for him. He slammed it shut with all his strength, white-hot rage flaring in his now bloodshot emerald eyes. As he turned away from the light, the Seldarine and eternity, his gold-and-silver-runed tunic became plain robes blacker than a moonless night, black gloves covered his hands, and a face mask concealed his features disfigured by ire.

Stay with me...

He walked back towards the pitch-black darkness that was the world of the living. He walked, and walked, fueled by rage, cursing himself, his way of life, his beliefs the Seldarine, his enemies...He walked until he hit a barrier, until he could smell the forest once more. Roaring, he lashed out, punching through the barrier with his right arm. The barrier cracked...he could see a ray of moonlight coming through and hear the forest's nightlife. The voices in his head, however, had stopped...


Archmage Kael of the Fallen Kalinor, Defender of Dharasha, Master of the Shadow Tower and arcanist of untold power stared in amazement at his right arm. The Bandit Leader lay dead in front of him, but that was hardly surprising: that was the inexorable doom of his opponents.
He had struck him with his arm itself, sort of unusual, but not really beyond belief either.

After a long moment, he found out: it was the pain. A shadow of what once was, a phantom pain that could not be, not really, not anymore.

He was hurt.

[Tsidkenu]

After disappearing back to the village for a while, the Mystran priestess returned looking a little bit more confident about something.

"Well, I should like to divine the nature of his ailment if I may?" she asked politely at looked between Telia, Herran (and Ameris, if he was still there). "I assume you have not already done so, or else perhaps you had found a solution already?" she commented further while taking a ruby gemstone from her pouch and beginning to encircle it in gold wire.

"I do require his co-operation; is he fit enough to undergo this analysis?" she asked, hesitating for an answer before proceeding with her intention to cast Analyse Dweomer upon the maddened minstrel.

[kleomenes]

Ameris would still be present and would nod to Aeili. "We have not attempted such a divination, neither of us have this capability. Its a wise course of action. All I can add for myself is that I think he might be under multiple ailments, as that would explain how it was that some of my blessings weakened the magic on him; yet I cannot explain why they ceased to work, other than by suggesting my own prayers are too weak alone, or some special method needs to be used to remove the curses upon him."

Ameris then hands a piece of paper to Aeili, with a song written on it.

"Herran sang this after a recent bout. He had become distressed and spoke of the "tree" trying to reclaim him, and of hearing the voices of spirits. We think the tree symbolises the evil witch who cursed him, as we understand it. I think it is pertinent. Telia wonders whether we should find someone who can speak to spirits to be present during a bout of his madness; are there any in your village who can? If not we hoped to send to Brother Mi-Le or Lady Elvina of the Silver Rose. I'm unsure what the reference to a heart that is pure can be, no heart is without sin; although if there is one that is close, it would be Herran's, he has no ire in his heart. Perhaps some way to remind him of this would aid his recovery. My last musing was whether some sort of light or joy would lift his spirits to break the curse; bringing him to a place of light, or showing him a performance which fills his heart with love for his goddess."

Ameris then looks to Herran, trying to discern if he is of sound mind currently. If so, he would suggest to Aeili that she try divining now.

The paper reads as follows:

Hidden: show

"The leaves of the forest rustle and sway
as the winds through the forest find their way
the creaking of the branches as they dance and play
guide the lost souls there on their way
the tree in the forest twisted with knots
laughs oh so darkly as the souls all rot
one full of joy so brilliantly bright
managed to escape the darkest of blight
but the tree now seeks to finish its deed
for the darkness has been planted as a growing seed
the tree calls forth upon the wind
to feast upon the joy like a hellish fiend
there is one hope to find a cure
the tree must be beaten by a heart that is pure
may the light everlasting through Lliiras joy
blot out the darkness ... placed upon this boy ...."

[paw]

Herran watches the discussion and -tries- to see what is upon the paper with a quizzical look, as if having no recollection of having sung a song.

As they talk of his state of mind currently, he would shrug his shoulders, his eyes suggesting an apologetic smile. He would then relax his jaw to try and make it easier for them to remove his gag, in case such is their intent.