Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

She held his hand in reassurance, a smile on her lips. "Thank you". She beamed at him but the smile faded quickly as her mind jolted with magical words, her hand reaching to touch her forehead briefly.

"I must go. . . " she said in a hushed but panicked tone as she left him there. She picked up her gown after a quick goodbye, squeezing a scroll in her hands before she found a quiet place to gather the components together.

Her stomach twisted and churned with discomfort even though she had felt it many times before, her fingers pushing back her fiery locks. She tilted her head back to take a breath of the salty air the Gate had to offer. "Gods... " her eyes set on the Priestess. "Aeilli?" she responded in kind, her demeanour as polite as it has always been. Rose enjoyed the security of her words and actions, knowing her to be predictable in greeting.

There had been many missteps but the two wandering friends had found them, among the rotting fields and dried bones. The stone structure stood over them, their friends gathering around it like a sermon was taking place. It stood like a high wall between them and their cherished. It awakened a fear inside of her that she had forgotten about.

'Sirion.' ... She had not known who the other was, but she could not release the anger in her mind, and Lliira refused to bring her any solace. Rose hid her feelings and walked ahead with pride, demanding some sort of answer. It was owed to her. No one takes something she cares about, not one. She knew loss all too well and she wasn't about to feel it again. "Bring him to us, or you will pay." her voice twisted like she did not believe it could. Her eyes struck on the dark figure as it taunted and played with them -his- loved ones. "Leave or he will die." The words only angered her more. The ones who came to save him, the ones who cared enough to want to break every piece of that building felt the same. They were not leaving, not without their friends. Not even the Gods could move them.

Rose watched as the figure moved back to safety, the solid enchanted iron bars closing behind her like the jaws of a lion clamping down on its prey. 'Sirion.'
The two large elemental's slammed and thwacked. Relentlessly, the army that had gathered for him were helpless, the hope within them shattered as the continuous bangs against the stone only revealed dust and broken slabs of stone as the magically enchanted fortress repaired itself. "Gods!"

Anti-magic melodies and several mages stood at the gates, willing the wards to succumb to their magic, it being deemed not enough by the strong fields of the Coven walls.

The small army began to hammer into the grounds around the structure, the warmth of the fires not only bringing comfort but light to those around them. It seemed that Sirion might already be dead, but the hope did not waver and not one dared to leave the compound. 'How dare they-' she trembled as she began to set up her own tent, checking on her rations. 'Do they really think we will leave?'

Hoppy Toadmeadow
The young hin paced, weaving her way around the tents, occasionally seen talking to herself, willing herself to stay awake. She suddenly looks to some people slumped on the ground who are clearly carrying the weight of their restless night.

"99 bottles of strawberry juice on the wall, 99 bottles of juice!" she sings in joyful tones and gestures out loudly into the encampment, smiling and encouraging others to join her in expressing positivity and solidarity through song and merriment at an otherwise gloomy situation.

Often her gaze falls to a nearby tent, warm and soft and inviting.. Until she turns again to peer through a makeshift barricade to see several large and looming skeletal figures standing eerily still admist the fields of the dead

She swallows..
"...98 bottles of juice"

*Grim faced and unblinking, Eowiel stood, cloaked in her own magic and well hidden, watching the Coven compound throughout the night. Her bow was strung, an arrow loaded on its string, ready to draw and release in a heartbeat. Not just any arrow, no, a special one, kept for a special purpose.

Long hours of training with the bow gave her confidence that if the drow wench showed her face again, it would be a simple matter for her to rain arrows on the kidnapper. She wouldn't stop until the drow lay dead. No quarter would be given. She had gone too far.

Taking kin captive, torturing them. She would make this a quick death for the drow. Better than she deserved, but some lines are not meant to be crossed.

Around her, the siege continues, she does not speak or react to the actions of the others. She is focused on what she knows she must do, if the opportunity arises*

Alyndra comes down with Ros from the air from as they were scouting on the Uldoon's trail. Seeing to help as best as she can.

Between healing and trying to calm the irascilbe elfs. Although she feels a deep hatred for the drow. Always reminded of her torture at the hands of a lolthite matron. And the killing of her companion a wolf named Sylith.

The scene played over and over in her mind as she attempted fruitlessly to sleep in the camp Vendor and her had set way off to the side from the main siege encampment.

Masked Drow, " You will get him back, When I am done questioning his betrayal." Standing defiantly I responded, "Unmask yourself, do so now or I will knock you out. you attempt to hide in shadows, then teleport into this crypt. show yourself! The masked Drow, "If you attack me Your friends will be taken elsewhere and killed. If you leave. I promise you that they will be returned unharmed. Would you prefer to see your friends again?" I responded, "Then you admit you hold them captive. You attack my house, my family, then ask me to leave? I make you a promise Rothe. They will be returned safely or I will hunt your entire house down and slay them all."

With that the Masked drow retreated into the crypt.

Terri tossed and turned in the bedding. Vendor Silently offering comfort with touch and closeness. She mutters softly, "I could have knocked her out of stealth. We could have traded it for my family........... Why didn't I do that?" A tear trickled down her cheek. She did not get much sleep the scene played over and over in her mind. In each playback she would double up in pain as guilt would override her due to her non action. "I will kill them all even if they release them." She drifts off into a restless slumber in the early morning before taking up virgil again with the rest of the group laying siege at the crypt.

Standing outside of a dilapidated crypt in the cursed Fields of the Dead, Lunulata's keen ears hear the voice of a woman she has heard before. The cloaked woman says, "if you leave, I promise you they will be returned to you unharmed." I have heard this voice before. The same voice I heard a few fingers ago in the Tradeway just south of the Phoenix Lodge. My mind races as I recalls the brief but intense encounter.

After a long and intense battle in the Underdark, I sit at the bar of the Phoenix Lodge with a glass of spiced mead. This beverage is new to me but reminds me of my twin sister. She would have enjoyed the sweet spices in the honey brew. A mage of dwarven heritage speaks up, "Woul' anyone care for a teleport to tha Arm?" Hoping to see a new friend I have made, I motion to the dwarf that I would. Nodding in farewell to Willow, a deaf druid that carries both fire and kindness in her heart, and Hoppy, a tiny hin woman that passes out happiness like its copper pieces. I move next to the dwarf and waits for the spell to take effect. The dwarf's spell fizzles away like a candle under a jar. "guess we walkin" The dwarf announces. It is only a short walk so preparations are unnecessary. Leading the way, the dwarf is several paces in front of me. I have learned from the mistakes of the past and I take a moment to call upon my skills, training, and devotion to Solonor that allow me to see what hides in both shadows and mist. Can't be too careful right now. As I pass the final bend in the road and the walls to the inn are in sight, I sees woman cloaked in both mist and shadow approach. The dwarf doesn't see her and walks past her while I pretend not to and lets her travel beyond sight. The cloaked one is headed right for the Lodge. In case my feint was detected or hostilities insue, i call upon the mist to enhance my already advanced speed and make my form intangible to attack. I close in on the cloaked woman now no longer pretending to not see her. Noticing her own bluff has been ousted. She speaks, "Do you have a name?" Names are powerful tools so I do not give her mine instead ask her for hers. She then asks, "where are you headed?" At every movement to keep ample distance from the sneaker, she makes the same movement to close the distance. Both of us armed. Me with my bow and several arrows specially designed for a situation like this at the ready. Her with dual kukri at the ready, I know that a strike from them would likely be my end. I sip from a couple vials to strengthen my mithral armor and skin underneath it. The sneaker in turn casts herself, but in doing so she makes a mistake. Her mystical cloak falls away revealing her nature totally. I could see her as the Ssri she is. After seeing this I depart for the Lodge with all my speed. I would need friends to ensure this hunt's success. At least I could provide warning although I am sure whatever she had planned has now been foiled. The hunt found little success as would be expected after too many moments have passed. So I turned north to the Fields of the Dead. Several moons ago I followed a person that also hid in shadows and mist to those cursed lands, but lost their track when I was ambushed by a patrol of skeletons headed by a skeleton of enormous size and strength. This is not uncommon there but it was inconvenient. After a couple uneventful passes around the fields I head back to Balder's Gate. On the way I meet Terri and Vendor and we walk to the campfire outside of the eastern gate. From there we join a large group of very capable and concerned warriors with a lead on the the whereabouts of our friends Sirion and Agathion.


"if you leave, I promise you they will be returned to you unharmed." I yell out to the team, "I know this voice. This is a Ssri. I have seen this one before." Ready with my bow, mystical enchantments in place. Arrows designed for this special purpose notched and ready. The leadership wish to talk. I shall stand by until they realize this will not work.

Those who venture into the Fields of the Dead are warned to travel lightly as the dead have awoken and in numbers. The rotating Fist guard have been told to keep their own profile low on their few ventures into the outskirts, after rumours of a magical siege taking place having riled up the dead. While travel in small numbers seems to be possible, the roaming troops of powerful dead which swarm through the awakened corpse lands rove too and fro, cutting down anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in their way.

Alyndra returns in crow form to watch the entrance to the crypt. While Rossarinya returns to her duties over the Undoon's trail.

The wild elf is still a bit ruffled over the undead having attacked in great numbers. She loathes them so much she would like to burn all the blasted land and carry the topsoil away. She can sense the wrongness of this place just by being on a cross. Her peace of mind is greatly affected by it. And she nervously tries to keep an eye out in every direction.

A full day after his capture, one Sirion would come running toward those present in the fields of the dead. Appearing completely unharmed and even, it could be said, in a good mood. Happy to see everyone but with a lot on his mind, he follows Elyssa and Eowiel to Baldur's Gate where they get a room to talk about what has happened.

*Following her discussion with Sirion and Elyssa, Eowiel can be seen heading through the Gate toward the palace district. She enters the duchal palace and is seen talking ot the guards*