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Chapter Eleven: The Troubled Temple of Tapio - Preparation

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((I hadn't realized it had been that long since my last post! Apologies to all!))

Bren Sarabina
Standard AC: 23
Fort save: +13
Ref save: +8
Will save: +11
Current action points: 10
Current HP: 112
Status effects: none
Powerpaw's tower shield +1 (-2 to attack rolls)
Spells: 1st - Bless, Bless Weapon, Divine Favor, Lesser Restoration; 2nd - Bull's Strength, Delay Poison, Resist Energy; 3rd - Daylight, Prayer.
Speech color, for reference: #3399ff


Melshaef suddenly gave off such a loud and hateful hiss as to widen the eyes and freeze the blood. "Whaaaat?! Do you mean those detestable, vile, venomous, black-hearted YUAN-TI?!" Filled with new resolve, she reared back with her greatclub...

...ferociously.

WHAAAM!!


Brendoran, for all his armor, shield, experience, and solid stance, skidded back about a foot through the dirt from the force of her savage blow. Then a moment of quiet descended upon the training grounds.
"Yes!" Bren nodded approvingly. "Just like that!"

"Switch! Brendoran and Otiorin!" Oscar called.

Powerpaw gawked at Otoirin as all three adventurers paused, but only for a moment. Then his maul was a'hunting for the half-elf's flesh.

"Hey Oti! Guess wat?! You gonna get it innnn daaaa FAAAAAAAACE!!" To Bren, he shouted, "Bren! Flanks him!"
With his hand now free, it flashed to his belt and tugged a throwing knife out, tossing it at Bren's face.
Bren shifted deftly from in-the-middle-defensive to flanking-offensive, following Powerpaw's lead to give their sparring opponent the harder challenge. The flashing, spinning shortsword drew his eye (and shield) upward, but he managed to keep just enough attention on Otiorin to see the knife headed straight for him. His shield already moving upward, Bren managed to block the incoming missile, but such defensive tactics kept him from swinging in return - likely Otiorin's purpose, and he nodded to the other with respect.
 
"Unfair," she argued, taking turns glaring at Mamapaw and Oscar. "What was I supposed to do?"

"In due time, Nivirea," Oscar rose on his hind feet and watched the melee with scholarly patience.

He tossed Moonlit Edge up into the air, the edge of the shortsword whistling as it flipped over and over. With his hand now free, it flashed to his belt and tugged a throwing knife out, tossing it at Bren's face. Almost a heartbeat later, he caught the tumbling shortsword, then darted at Powerpaw. He waitied til the last moment then perforned a tuck-roll between the Felane's legs, tapping the back of Powerpaw's left ankle with Moonlit Edge's pommel.

The move completely caught Powerpaw off-guard. If there was one serious problem to the gladiator's fighting system, it was that sometimes he wanted the hit too much. As a result, he would lunge in too deeply and overbalance himself if he missed. Otiorin, as a natural rogue, knew timing was everything and in this case, the half-elf's timing was spot on.

"WhoaoaoaoaooaAAAAAA!!" The Fuzzy Goof roared. Powerpaw's furry arms flailed wildly as he overextended in his fervor to get Otiorin. In an effort to catch himself, he sent his maul flying through the air - and right at Nivirea and Mamapaw who had just triumphantly plucked the sorceress off of her feet.

Seeing the oncoming maul, the motherly Felane shrieked a cat-like shriek. "RAAAIIEE!!!" Immediately, she spun away from the danger and curled Nivirea to her chest as if she were a kitten to protect. The maul missed. Yet there was Nivirea, obviously being coddled by a giant, furry mom with big eyes and bigger heart. "Are you all right?" she murmured, her slitted eyes full of concern for the human in her paws.

The flashing, spinning shortsword drew his eye (and shield) upward, but he managed to keep just enough attention on Otiorin to see the knife headed straight for him. His shield already moving upward, Bren managed to block the incoming missile, but such defensive tactics kept him from swinging in return - likely Otiorin's purpose, and he nodded to the other with respect.

Powerpaw toppled like a broken castle. If any of you have seen a cat who has lost his balance, it was a scene quite similar. The Felane suddenly became a whirlwind of claws and paws as he fell - right on top of Brendoran.

But, the newly-knighted paladin was ready. He had taken full-power swings from the likes of ogres and adult giants before. Powerpaw fell not on Brendoran but atop his own tower shield he had lent the human. Brendoran's feet dug into the earth as the Felane's full weight came crashing down, but, to his credit, he held.

Powerpaw went limp. With a faceful of shield, he grumbled. "I iz embarrassed Kitty-face..."

"Break!" Oscar said, signaling an end to the session. "Join me, Wayward Wanderers. We have much to discuss."

In ones and twos, the Wanderers joined Oscar the Red Panda as he found a tree-stump to sit on. There, he addressed all of you as you relaxed in your various ways. Bria's way was with Otiorin; she leaned to him with comfort in her eyes. Mamapaw set Nivirea down and tried to brush the sorceress's dress straight. Powerpaw just growled, picked himself up, and dragged his maul all the way to the tree-stump.

As always, Oscar's tone was that of a teacher, not a commander. His words were observations. No more, no less.

"Perhaps you heard Nivirea's question earlier, Wanderers? 'What was I supposed to do?'" Oscar let the question hang in the air a moment. "The answer is the same for all of you - learn your weaknesses and build up from them."

He pointed to Luna and Bria. "The two of you learned how difficult it was to stop the other from casting, or at least, that was the intended lesson before I turned and witnessed the two of you rolling around in the grass. Mielikki's miracle that you did not roll over Sparkle."

He brushed an errant whisker out of his face. "Nivirea, your defense worked well-enough against a warrior like Powerpaw, but against a trained and confident tracker like his mother? I hope you learned that you apparently do not have the means yet to defend against such an attacker." He raised a tiny claw into the air. Then he paused and admired it for a moment - the newly-reincarnated scholar was still unused to having claws at all. "Nivirea, may I therefore recommend procuring a Wand of Levitation? It may mean the difference between safety and a big hunting beast in melee with you."

Hearing this, Mamapaw unconsciously licked her fangs. She was a born hunting cat after all.

Oscar continued sharing his observations with Nivirea. "Of course, it was an unfair trial. Do you think your monstrous and evil-hearted enemies will give a thought to fairness when they are seeking to lay you low? Put in another light, do you believe Loviatar cared at all about fairness when she teamed with Erythnul to put a knife into Mielikki's side? The answer is as clear as day."

Oscar regarded Otiorin, Powerpaw, and Brendoran. "Flanking is different for each of your fighting styles. A warrior, paladin, and rogue each react differently to flanking and being flanked. If you were astute, you were watching and learning how your fellows reacted to being in such a position. Also, for the flankers, one of you being larger in size, note the differences in movement, pacing, and attack. If an aggressor used Otiorin's move against Powerpaw in the middle of a dungeon, he would be more than embarrassed, would you not say?"

He turned to the motherly Felane. "Mamapaw and Melshaef. Though you are one and the same person, it appears to me that you like quite like two different people altogether. Mamapaw had strong reservations about accidentally harming even her stout and experienced leader. Melshaef, however, had no such worry. What made the difference?"

"It is lessons like these that will help you in the Outlands," he used the Highwindian name for unclaimed lands beyond Highwind's castle walls. "The more you train together, the more you will come to know each other, and also yourselves. Your strengths, your weaknesses, you must help each other in your own personal quests for greatness."

"Do you agree, Wayward Wanderers?"
 
Luna brushes a wisp of hair out of her face as she listens to the words of wisdom from her cute and fuzzy teacher. "I think that, when we all work together, we can bolster our weaknesses with the strengths of our comrades. While my magic is powerful, a single well-placed dagger can interrupt my casting, and powerful warriors like Bren and Powerpaw have their own limitations on range." She reaches up and places a gentle hand on Sparkle's neck as she thinks on what to say. "I am just glad that I have such good friends as all of you, and I am also glad that I have had this chance to learn some different ways of fighting that I had not considered before."
 
.:| Nivirea - The Sorceress |:.

Aside from the initial yelp of protest, more instinctive than deliberate, the girl had suffered Mamapaw's embrace stoically. As a matter of fact, by the time she was let go, she seemed to have become quite comfortable, even. She allowed Mamapaw to brush her dress straight without a single remark, even muttering a quiet thank-you before busying herself with bringing her hair back in order.

Oscar's summary and counsel yielded an agreeing nod from the girl. She had nothing much to say.
 
Luna brushes a wisp of hair out of her face as she listens to the words of wisdom from her cute and fuzzy teacher. "I think that, when we all work together, we can bolster our weaknesses with the strengths of our comrades. While my magic is powerful, a single well-placed dagger can interrupt my casting, and powerful warriors like Bren and Powerpaw have their own limitations on range." She reaches up and places a gentle hand on Sparkle's neck as she thinks on what to say. "I am just glad that I have such good friends as all of you, and I am also glad that I have had this chance to learn some different ways of fighting that I had not considered before."

Upon feeling Luna's hand, Sparkle closed her eyes in cat-like contentment. Carefully, she curled her poisonous stinger-tail under her as to avoid any accidental injuries. Luna may have been her familiar, but she was in no way immune to a pseudo-dragon's potent venom.

Standing upon the small stump of an old tree, Oscar pushed a trailing whisker into place. "Indeed," he said, his clear baritone voice resonated like a human's despite his small stature, "it is a fellowship's fighting spirit and skill that carries the day. When one member of the team is lacking, the others are there to help raise that person back to achieve higher heights than they would alone. This is also the greatest benefit a good-hearted group has over an evil one. Remember this."

Then the little fellow clapped his paws together and indicated the soft grasses, entwining trees, and lovely sunlight that drifted dreamily through the Mielikkian haven. All this time, small groups of evergreen-clad faithful clergy and commoners alike watched the Wayward Wanderers from an appreciate distance.

Oscar continued. "Take a short while to prepare yourselves for the day. Summon upon your new spells and strategies. When you are finished, let us meet here at this tree stump." He patted his fuzzy belly with one black paw. "I will wait. Having been reincarnated into this new form, I have an uncommonly-odd appetite now for... fruits and vegetables..." And off Oscar of Highwind went in search for some, allowing each of the Wayward Wanderers to memorize new spells and thus ready themselves for the adventures of the day.

Sherwood and Kaerri, take this time to select Luna's and Bren's spells for the day. Cap'n and Nivirea, being sorcerers, need not prepare their spells, but this time of rest will count as replenishing their spell arsenal.
 
.:| Nivirea - The Sorceress |:.

Smiling at Melshaef to show once again that she held no grudges over the training, Nivirea left the cat lady's side to walk over to Bren.

"Gabh mo leithscéal?" she said in Sylvan, tugging at his sleeve to assure his attention. "My letter. Remember?"



Excuse me?
 
Bren Sarabina
Standard AC: 23
Fort save: +13
Ref save: +8
Will save: +11
Current action points: 10
Current HP: 112
Status effects: none
Powerpaw's tower shield +1 (-2 to attack rolls)
Spells: 1st - Bless, Bless Weapon, Divine Favor, Lesser Restoration; 2nd - Bull's Strength, Delay Poison, Resist Energy; 3rd - Daylight, Prayer.
Speech color, for reference: #3399ff
"It is lessons like these that will help you in the Outlands," he used the Highwindian name for unclaimed lands beyond Highwind's castle walls. "The more you train together, the more you will come to know each other, and also yourselves. Your strengths, your weaknesses, you must help each other in your own personal quests for greatness."

"Do you agree, Wayward Wanderers?"
Bren listened attentively to Oscar's advice, both that directed to him and that directed at his fellows. Knowing what they learned here was part of knowing them, after all. He nodded in response to Oscar's final question. "A party that works together as a team is much more effective than one that acts as a group of individuals. And the deeper we know each other, the greater trust we will have in each other, and trust is key to working as a team." He smiled at the more independent-minded of the group. "That doesn't mean sublimate yourself into the team, just that we work together instead of ignoring each other's tactics. And like Luna says, it's always better if we're friends as well as allies and teammates."

"Gabh mo leithscéal?" she said in Sylvan, tugging at his sleeve to assure his attention. "My letter. Remember?"
Bren smiled down at the young sorceress. "Yes, of course. Is it ready to send? We can attend to that while we're out and about in the city today."
 
Hearing this, Bria trotted over with bunny-like hops to her eager steps, her long brown hair trailing beautifully behind her. "Oh, Mister Paladin Bren sir!" The peaceful healer used the tone she most often voiced when addressing someone higher in station, for displays of respect were common among the Ko.

"Could I pleaaaaase visit the war orphanage, Bren? I haven't donated my adventuring earnings since I was last here in Highwind and, oh my, that was some time ago...

As if she could see through walls, her longing gaze drifted beyond the wondrous and towering greenery of EarthHome, to some special place quite real in the young woman's vivid imagination.

"How I hope their spirits are high..."

Melshaef padded forward, her tail swishing lightly across the grassy grounds. Worriedly, she murmured, "And what of us? Will two Felane of Shamballah not attract undue attention?

"Rrrrrrr!" Powerpaw gnashed his teeth and curled his claws. "Let 'em look, Mom! First one dat sez sumthin' rude is gonna get smacked right in da--"

Bria whirled toward him shaking her hands and head. "No, Fuzzy Goof! You mustn't!"

"Wha? An' why nots?"

Bria folded her hands thoughtfully. "This isn't a gladiatorial arena or a battlefield but a living, thriving city teeming with people from all over! Like you, they were all outcasts at one time or another! Highwind is the creation of the Wildegard family who, feeling alone in the golden city of Summerset, dreamt of a place they could call all their own. And this is what they and their human followers built together!

"As the years went by, Queen Dayna softened King Thayne's heart, and other races like the hobbits and wemics, gnomes and minotaurs were allowed to dwell here.

"But this is their city, their territory! You must respect it! You and Mamapaw are ambassadors now!" Bria smiled. "Why, you're the only Felane on this side of the world! How will you represent Bastet? How will the next Felane be seen should they arrive here?" She pointed at them. "Your first impression lays the foundation for their arrival, don't you see? People here will remember everything you do!

She drew her hand back to indicate some of the Mielikkian followers, most of those were human, but certainly not all. Some were shorter and some shorter than those. "They did it. Now so must you!"

Powerpaw and Mamapaw slowly turned toward one another. Once again, the little brown-eyed human had thrown an odd cloud into their skies and it was up to them on what to do with it.

"Sonnn?" It was the narrow-eyed demand of a mother that knew her child all too well.

"Yaaaah, Mom." Powerpaw nodded. "I will tries ta behave no matter what dey sez about me or how I talks or anyting..." Then a sudden thought made the gladiator snarl. Powerpaw looked to Bria. "An' if one'a dem puts a hand on me?"

"Then they become fair game."

Powerpaw slowly grinned, his fangs showing. "Now dat's a law dis Kitty-face kin live wif!"

Bria looked to the rest of you. "Unless you think we really should try to hide their features somehow? What should we do?"
 
Luna places a gentle hand on Powerpaw's arm, and looks over at Melshaef. "Don't worry; I wouldn't leave you here to fend for yourself, just in the same way I am sure you would protect and guide us in your lands. If you would have me, I will gladly escort you around the city, just so long as you don't mind me gawking about the fabled city myself! Plus, if there is any places for me to find some new books, I am all over that! That is, so long as you don't mind me joining you." She gives the two felines a winning smile, then looks to Bria. "I can't be sure how well our fuzzy friends will be received here, but if this city is as open as you say, so long as there is a guide with them, we should be ok. Anyone else wish to join us as we play tourist?"
0 - Light, Mage Hand, Message, Read Magic
1 - Shield x2, Burning Hands, Floating Disk, Unseen Servant, Magic Missile x2
2 - Protection From Arrows x2, Blur x2, Web x2, Scorching Ray
3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Fly, Lightning Bolt
4 - Ball Lightning x2, Empowered Scorching Ray x2, Remove Curse
5 - Cone of Cold, Empowered Fireball, Empowered Lightning Bolt

Force Missile x9, Extended Mage Armor II in effect, duration of 20 hours
 
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.:| Nivirea - The Sorceress |:.

Bren's response left the girl standing there with her mouth open. That by itself would have made her look merely surprised, but not when combined with the condemning glare in her eyes that followed - made worse if Bren had faced away from her in the meantime, though she was about to command his attention, and probably (inadvertently?) someone else's, whatever the case...

"What? No!" she argued. "You said it would be 'on the list of preparations', for whatever that's worth! But when was I supposed to write it, between crashing here last night and being woken up today before the sun had even gone up?! And with what? Do I look like a scribe? And then you ask if it's ready to send!"

She wasn't looking at anyone else while she spoke but Bren, vividly using her whole body to get the point across.
 
Nivirea's outburst caused several visiting commoners and evergreen-clad Mielikkians within earshot to turn and stare. Some murmured to one another. A few priests, Dwarven mostly, stood in the distance as if to be of service. They muttered and stroked their beards as they watched you.

With Mamapaw beside him, Powerpaw grinned and pointed a claw at Nivirea and Bren. "Hay!" he said, without thinking, to his mother, "dat's just how you treat dad sometimez!"

Mamapaw's worried expression flashed to one of gasping surprise, followed by tiger-like anger. "WHAT?! IT IS NOT!!" She balled up her furry fist and slammed it right in his belly.

"WHOOF!" Powerpaw bowled over a moment and chuckled. "I sed 'sometimez!' Me an' my big faaaace!! Hoo hoo!"

Bria did not need to look at her fuzzy friend to know he was not seriously harmed, though that was more by way of his being a gladiator, for Mamapaw had not held back.

Bria patted Otiorin's arm and looked up at him with confusion in her soft brown eyes. She kept her voice down. "Why is Nivirea acting like that?"
 
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(Dungeon Master note for all: Welcome, Psychie, to Sharseya! This introduction is about 2,000 words long so I hope you brought a snack and drink. Oreleth has made it to Highwind's gates! But what lies in store for her? Enjoy!)

"Battle of the Mounds/Day of Doom" by Basil Pouledouris for the Conan the Barbarian Motion Picture Soundtrack


The morning clouds rolled swiftly over the Highwindian mountainside bringing with them the soft orange glow of the sun over the troubled realm. The Road of Kings glowed in the dawn like a blood-drenched arrow and there at the highway's most northerly point, the great winding trail began leading up and up the mountainside finally to reach Highwind's massive eastern gates. The thick, white walls of the city and tall towers behind them rose over the landscape like a gentle guardian.

Below them, cool morning breezes flowed over mountain flowers and grasses along with the many dozens of souls waiting with travel-weary horses and road-caked wagons to be admitted in with the early morning light. Here, among the throngs of merchants, messengers, travelers, and foresters were humans with their many shades of skins, hairstyles, and clothing standing alongside mountain dwarves, as patient and as hardy as their namesake. They all sat or stood with the stillness of stumps and trees.

Only one among them hailed from the distant Forest Eternal, the mysterious and ancient forest far to the south of Summerset and farther still from Highwind. This was Oreleth of the Wood Elves. Her pointed ears, sharp facial features, and long hair that spilled down her back like sunshine marked her to all as one of Corellon Larethian's children. As such, humans stared and whispered cautiously amongst themselves while the dwarves seemed to look upon her like those seeing a rare stone far from its place of origin.

It had been a very long road from the Forest Eternal to these proud gates, but it was here, she had learned that the Soulsinger bow, the bow of her dreams, was known to one Oscar of Highwind. If tales were true, Oscar was a human scholar whose wisdom had reached the stars long ago and whose name among the wise was highly regarded as authentic and just.

Oreleth had heard that the extremely tall, lanky man with graying hair was the one loremaster in all of the continent of Averlund, perhaps in all Sharseya, that knew not only about the Soulsinger, but how it might come into her ageless hands. How he had come by this knowledge, none could say.

But he was here! Somewhere! And finally, so was she! The thrill of having traveled so many weeks and days across plain and hill and forest and highway to know that one was closer to her destination was a very good reason to be thrilled.

So it was that Oreleth was first in line! Second behind her among the teeming trail of people was a quartet of well-made wagons complete with armed Summerset mercenaries, carrying Corellon-knew-what. And those mercenaries regarded her with jealous looks for her being ahead of them.

Without warning, the sounds of flapping, leathery wings came from behind the high wall. One of Highwind's dragon-riders, no doubt, come for some detail or another. Oreleth never saw the reptile nor its rider, but she knew these people could deliver messages with the swiftness of arrows. It was no secret that Highwind had dragons in their army. Indeed, Highwind appeared to have many secrets.

A moment later, a great bell sounded from behind the wall and its single, heavy toll shook the land like the coming of a king. Suddenly, all around Oreleth, men and womens' eyes lit up like fires. Horses trembled nervously and the sighs of relief among person and beast were many as they rose to enter.

"Good morning!" said a resounding female voice from the ramparts in the Common tongue. That call echoed down from above from one of the many helmeted faces now able to be seen looming over the walls.
"Good morning..." came the replies in various states of enthusiasm from among the crowds.

There was a sharp cracking sound and the thunderous grinding of well-oiled gears as the twin portcullis rose like a sleeping giant. One of the massive, scarred doors behind the gate, just wide enough to admit something large like a draft horse or a merchant's wagon...

...or an armored minotaur.

The brute was nearly ten feet tall, his terrible horns almost that wide. Wreathed in heavy chain mail with many a nick and chip across its skin, the monster's bulging arms and barrel-chest spoke of strength far beyond any typical elf or human. He carried a massive sword sheathed on each hip, a round shield over one shoulder, and perhaps the biggest blade Oreleth had ever seen in her young life, a two-handed greatsword some eight feet in length, across his back. But it was his glare that was easiest to note, for there was an irritated flame in them that was no stranger to violence.

An urgent voice behind him caused the warrior to pause. Another minotaur dressed in the white and green hippogryph tabard of Highwind spoke quietly, yet Oreleth's keen hearing could understand every word - for the elf understood the Minotaur tongue fluently.

"Baltor, you need not do this! Guard duty is below one of your station! How are you here?!"

The minotaur called Baltor snarled back. "Gromash is how I'm here, dammit!" he said. "I showed up at Mista Holy Man's church all fucked up on ale! This here is Captain of the Guard Gromash's way of makin' me pay back my debt to Highwind. Guard duty for a whole day!"

"By the Odinson! You showed at the church-fortress drunk?!"

"By Thor, I was hungover, man! I ain't got no peace! Oscar of Highwind is dead! DEAD! Killed by puttin' his nose inta some damned magic book!" Baltor snorted hatefully. "What the hell are we gonna do NOW?!"

Baltor stared back at his shocked brethren. Neither of them had any answer.

"Now bring that thievin' bastard out here..."

The door opened a bit farther and out staggered a brown-cloaked man with his hands tied behind his back. He had a very large and ugly bruise on his head. A rope from his hands extended into Baltor's. The thief cursed and spat until he saw the vast green wilderness stretching out before him. Then, seeing his fate before him, he moaned in despair.

Behind him, more minotaurs ushered along three commonly-dressed people, all human. A young girl no more than ten years of age, a woman twice her age, and a cane-bearing crone some eighty years into life. Baltor lined them up and addressed them. His tone changed to one of politeness, but lost none of its authority. He spoke in the Common tongue.

"All right, ladies. This fool done robbed you blind, takin' your last copper piece while holdin' you up with a knife to the little girl's throat!" Having said this aloud, Baltor seemed to lose control of himself for a moment. He turned to the thief and shouted at him in rage. "She's a little girl! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Wait, don't answer dat." He turned back to the ladies.

"Sorry about that. Now listen, misses an' ma'am. Before I check all these nice people tryin' to enter my city, first I gotta make an example outta this ass-- ass..." he caught himself and said, "...assine dude. This way, everybody behaves, right?" He pointed at the thief. "According to Highwind law, this dude has been sentenced to exile, but before he goes..." Baltor gave a big grin, "I'm a guard today, right? Well, I'm makin' some use outta this. How? If I'm playin' a guard, then I make the rules! An' I say, for what he did to you, a little tiny bit of Highwind Minotaur justice is in order.

"By the God of Thunder, I say each of you gets to kick that dude square in his behind before we send him on his way!"

Upon hearing this proclamation, all of the dwarves and humans looked at each other in some dismay with the exception of the ladies. The thief blanched in humiliation.

"Little girl, you get to go first." Baltor then proceeded to grab the thief, forcibly bend him over, and drop him to the height of the little girl. She looked up at the woman twice her age, who nodded approvingly. Then with a little girly snarl that only little girls can give, she gave him a mighty little kick right in his butt.

The thief just laughed a little at her.

"All right," Baltor nodded. "My lady, it's your turn."

The twenty-year old woman hauled off and kicked him hard. "Take this, you rotten louse! That's my niece you held at knifepoint!"

His cry was heard down the mountainside. "Ooowww, you damned bitch!!"

Baltor twitched and bit his lip, but did not kill the man. Instead, he took a deep breath, regained his composure, and turned to the crone. "All right, grandmother. Your turn."

But she hesitated. Leaning on her cane, she looked up at Baltor with pleading eyes. Sweetly, she said, "Young man?"

Baltor quickly stepped over to her ready to lend her a hand. "Yes, grandmother?"

"I would greatly prefer... if you did it for me?"

Baltor straightened up with the largest wide-eyed grin Oreleth had ever seen on a minotaur. He was all eyes and smile and joy. Her words were purest music to his ears. Suddenly, barbarically, Baltor ran as fast as he could, grabbed the thief, held him up off the ground, yanked his pants down to his ankles until his naked butt showed, and reared back with his hoof.

"Yes, ma'am!!" he roared.

"No, no!" the thief screamed. "Mercy! Don't do it! Plea--"

Baltor loosed with everything he had.

POW!!

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Baltor punted the screaming thief so hard he flew high up into the air and soared for some seconds. When he finally came crashing down the mountainside, rolling and rolling and leaving long trails of dirt, dust, and grass, he went with no sign of stopping. And no one helping him either. The whole scene looked so painful and deserved, smiling Highwindians watching from their ramparts, made various thankful signs to their gods for his departure.

It was at that moment that Baltor graciously thanked and gently indicated the ladies should return inside, which they did. This done, he then angrily stomped up, fists clenched, hooves ready, and addressed Oreleth and the wide-eyed crowd of travelers and merchants.

"Y'all mothafuckas see dat? That could be YOU! If you cause shit in my city, that WILL be you!" Baltor folded his muscled arms and gave a short speech.

"Now hear this! At this very moment, there are mothafuckas all around Shandra's Evergreen, lookin' up at that flyin', thieving asshole, wonderin' what the hell just happened!"

Baltor acted, peering up into the sky as if watching the scene from below the city. "Think about it! Right now, some fishermen are sayin', 'Hey, man! Look up there! Highwind must have some new wizard magic to launch a motherfucker that high!"

He shouted at the crowd. "Well, it ain't no wiggly-finger, archmage spell - it's my hoof in yo ass!

"Dwarfies from Morgandir Mountain are talkin' this very minute! 'Hey shorty-brother! See that out yonder? Highwind must have a new catapult!"

Baltor screamed. "But it ain't no shiny new catapult! It's my hoof in yo ass!

"Druids! Druids hidin' in the forest are watchin' this very second! 'Hey! That figure hurtling through the sky! It is a sign! Mielikki has blessed us!"

Baltor bellowed. "But it ain't no froofy, holy, priestly stuff!

"IT'S MYYYYY HOOF IN YO AAAAAASS!!"

Then he turned to the first person in line. This was Oreleth. "Now then! All right, miss Elfie! Don't think just because you got the pretty hair and nice twinkly eyes that you are gonna sweet-elfie yo self into my city! I gotta hear you out to make sure you gotta good reason for comin' in!

Baltor stared down at Oreleth, his giant body literally overshadowing hers to the point other people nearest her shrank away. He then gave her his fullest attention. Sternly, but politely in the manner of Highwind Minotaurs, he asked her slowly and pointedly.

"So, miss elfie! What'choo got ta say?"

All eyes fell on Oreleth. Only the wind spoke. And then, quietly.

(DM note: Welcome to Highwind, Psychie!)
 
Oreleth had traveled long to reach the gates of famed Highwind, and now she finds herself standing first in line to get into the city this morning! Surely this is a good sign from Great Solonor. Then, her good fortune makes a sudden right turn.

At the sight of the horned beast before her, Oreleth couldn't help but clench her bow even tighter in her hand. I won't be afraid, but I DON'T have to like the presence of such things in the city. But, before the large beastman could address her, Oreleth's thoughts were already racing along the path of wondering what her quest for the Soulsinger has led her to; a dead man in a city run by minotaurs! A quiet despair fills her for a moment, and she almost misses the fact that this Baltor is talking to her directly.

A few quick blinks go by as she struggles to keep her temper in check and to try and recall what he had just said. "Um, yes. Hello. I suppose that, first off, I would have to say that Highwind justice is all that I have heard it to be. But let me assure you that I have not come to cause trouble in this fine city. I do need to ask you, though, did I hear you correctly when you mentioned that Oscar of Highwind is dead? What happened? When did he die?"
0 - Ray of Frost, Flare, Light, Mage Hand
1 - Shield x2, Shocking Grasp, Burning Hands
 
Bren Sarabina
Standard AC: 23
Fort save: +13
Ref save: +8
Will save: +11
Current action points: 10
Current HP: 112
Status effects: none
Powerpaw's tower shield +1 (-2 to attack rolls)
Spells: 1st - Bless, Bless Weapon, Divine Favor, Lesser Restoration; 2nd - Bull's Strength, Delay Poison, Resist Energy; 3rd - Daylight, Prayer.
Speech color, for reference: #3399ff

.:| Nivirea - The Sorceress |:.

Bren's response left the girl standing there with her mouth open. That by itself would have made her look merely surprised, but not when combined with the condemning glare in her eyes that followed - made worse if Bren had faced away from her in the meantime, though she was about to command his attention, and probably (inadvertently?) someone else's, whatever the case...

"What? No!" she argued. "You said it would be 'on the list of preparations', for whatever that's worth! But when was I supposed to write it, between crashing here last night and being woken up today before the sun had even gone up?! And with what? Do I look like a scribe? And then you ask if it's ready to send!"

She wasn't looking at anyone else while she spoke but Bren, vividly using her whole body to get the point across.

For a long moment, Bren could only stare at the girl in shock. What on Sharseya had he said to set off such a temper tantrum? Her words ringing in his ears, he missed the by-play between Powerpaw and his mother. Whether for good or ill, he'd never been good at deception, and anyone that knew how to read people would see a variety of expressions crossing his face: confusion, surprise, even dislike (for the flare-up, not for Nivirea herself, though that might be harder to discern). Finally he shook his head bemusedly and replied, "It was a simple question, not an accusation. I hope you aren't going to react like that all the time. I'll make sure there's time today for you to write it, all right? And if you won't ask one of us to borrow materials, we can buy some for your very own while we're shopping today." He tried not to make those last two sentences sound patronizing, but really, she sounded like a spoiled child.
 
"I do need to ask you, though, did I hear you correctly when you mentioned that Oscar of Highwind is dead? What happened? When did he die?"

Baltor gave a long sigh. His bold countenance dimmed, brought down by frustration and sadness. "Yeeaaah, you heard right, Miss Elfie... Oscar! Dead!" He spoke as if he could still scarcely believe it.

"I heard the news a week and a day ago. Good ol' Oscar! Never done nothin' to nobody! He chased books like us young dudes chase women. One day they said he picked up the wrong book... and it killed his ass.

He scratched his chin. "Somethin' about finding the salvation for the whole city and everybody in it. Don't know if he was tryin' to give his life for Highwind or somethin', but if he did, that's just the kind of dude he was!

"For a human, he was a cool motherfucker! Just like my man, Bren! He would give his last gold piece just to see food go in your mouth. By Thor, they don't make 'em like--" then a sudden thought struck him like a fist to the jaw.

Baltor waved his huge hands rapidly. "Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa... WAAAAITAMOTHERFUCKINMINUTE... Bacdafucup!"

Baltor's eyes thinned to suspicious slits. The muscular warrior leaned down, put his hands on his hips, and looked Oreleth square in the eye. "By Sif's perky titties, I told that Oscar shit to my boy in Minotaur!" He mock-examined the wood elf. "I don't see no little tail growin' out your backside! You ain't hidin' no horns!"

"So how in the fuck a little elfie girl like you understandin' the tongue of my people? Huh?"
 
Oreleth lets out a sigh, upset for several reasons. First, the latest step in her search for the bow now is gone, eight days dead. Why a scholar like Oscar wasn't brought back from the dead with a Resurrection spell is a mystery, but that is besides the point. I do wonder, would he have written down the information on the location of the Soulsinger? If he knew he was close to the end of his life, he might have done so, to help preserve the knowledge. Now I need to find a way to look through his books.

She stops ruminating as she realizes that the beastman is still looming over her, waiting for an answer as to how she knows what he said. Foolish girl! You never give away your advantages over your foes like that! Oreleth looks up at Baltor, and she shifts her language to speak the gruff minotaur tongue, "<<Because a while back, my teacher told me to know the ways of others, and that includes being able to speak many languages. When I was a little girl, a war band of minotaurs kind killed many of my family and sold the rest into slavery, and I have been searching for the survivors of that attack for decades. Knowing how to speak like this has come in handy in my search.>>"

She shifts her conversation back to Common. "Now that we have that unpleasantness covered, I am interested in finding some information that was reportedly in the possession of Oscar before he died. Who would I have to speak to regarding being able to look at his books to see if by chance he wrote down the knowledge that I seek? I am most hopeful that my journey here won't be a waste of time." She then works up a pleasant smile and adds, "And I'm quite sure that Sif has never had her 'titties' spoken of in such a fashion, and I will have to remember that for future conversations, so thank you for that."
0 - Ray of Frost, Flare, Light, Mage Hand
1 - Shield x2, Shocking Grasp, Burning Hands
 
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"What? No!" she argued. "You said it would be 'on the list of preparations', for whatever that's worth! But when was I supposed to write it, between crashing here last night and being woken up today before the sun had even gone up?! And with what? Do I look like a scribe? And then you ask if it's ready to send!"

She wasn't looking at anyone else while she spoke but Bren, vividly using her whole body to get the point across.

Of all the creatures present, it was the smallest of them all who was first to comprehend the shadow behind Nivirea's sudden tirade. For Sparkle had served in Luna's household for longer than Nivirea had been alive and the old dragoness knew a spoiled child when she saw one. This, even Mamapaw missed.

Other little details began to click together in the little pseudo-dragon's keen mind, but in the way of great serpents, she kept her findings to herself. Well, herself and one other...

Sparkle turned and coiled about in a small show of indifference, but she grinned ever so slightly as she sent to Luna.

Pyri? Under what circumstances have we seen this kind of behavior before? Is it not a touch familiar to those with a background like ours, coming from luxury and decadence as we do?
 
Luna turns to Sparkle and nods. In a quiet voice she says to the pseudo dragon, "I believe you are right. Heh. I still remember how you helped to put me in my place when I first set out on my path of learning the ways of magic. I was so spoiled, and it was a very harsh lesson to me, but a lesson I desperately needed. Right now, this might be the start of her own moment to realize that she is not the center of attention. Bren may not realize it, but I have a feeling that he is going to be responsible for a much needed life lesson for her."
0 - Light, Mage Hand, Message, Read Magic
1 - Shield x2, Burning Hands, Floating Disk, Unseen Servant, Magic Missile x2
2 - Protection From Arrows x2, Blur x2, Web x2, Scorching Ray
3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Fly, Lightning Bolt
4 - Ball Lightning x2, Empowered Scorching Ray x2, Remove Curse
5 - Cone of Cold, Empowered Fireball, Empowered Lightning Bolt

Force Missile x9, Extended Mage Armor II in effect, duration of 20 hours
 
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.:| Nivirea - The Sorceress |:.

The young sorceress did seem visibly calmer after Bren's reply, her emotional lightning storm dissipating as quickly as it had gathered.

"Fine, then... Fine. It just seemed like we were about to move out and that there wouldn't be enough time and - never mind. Are we at least going to come back here after shopping?"
 
Luna lets out a sigh of relief that the sorceress is calming down and not having a total meltdown. "Yes, I'm sure we are. We don't wish to leave the Grand Wagon here as we prepare to go and cleanse the temple of the evil that infests it now. I was hoping to do some shopping of my own as we explore the city; would you care to join Mamapaw, Powerpaw, Sparkle and I as we go? You might find something of interest in the market."
0 - Light, Mage Hand, Message, Read Magic
1 - Shield x2, Burning Hands, Floating Disk, Unseen Servant, Magic Missile x2
2 - Protection From Arrows x2, Blur x2, Web x2, Scorching Ray
3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Fly, Lightning Bolt
4 - Ball Lightning x2, Empowered Scorching Ray x2, Remove Curse
5 - Cone of Cold, Empowered Fireball, Empowered Lightning Bolt

Force Missile x9, Extended Mage Armor II in effect, duration of 20 hours
 
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Otiorin blinked, open-mouthed at Nivirea's explosion and half-turned to Bria's question. He actually wasn't sure. He'd known other women and he'd known other women, but only one example stood out.
"I think it's called petulance.", he replied, under his breath, "Acting childish and self-centered. At any time, she could have asked for the means and time to write this letter, could have made time for herself, but she didn't. Instead, she resorts to this behavior to cover her own failure."
He shrugged, the movement reminding him that his body was now significantly larger than the clothes he now wore.
"Perhaps I do need to do some shopping.", he said aloud, "The last time I bought clothing for myself, I'd not been blessed by a trio of mischevious imps."
He smiled and flexed his shoulders, demonstrating the tightness of his shirt.
"Anyone know of a good tailor?"
 
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Luna lets out a laugh. "If we were in Summerset, I could recommend several. Here, in Highwind? Not so much. I've never had the pleasure of coming to this city before, so I'm quite lost here. Join us in our shopping run! It will be quite the adventure as we explore the markets of this great city!"
0 - Light, Mage Hand, Message, Read Magic
1 - Shield x2, Burning Hands, Floating Disk, Unseen Servant, Magic Missile x2
2 - Protection From Arrows x2, Blur x2, Web x2, Scorching Ray
3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Fly, Lightning Bolt
4 - Ball Lightning x2, Empowered Scorching Ray x2, Remove Curse
5 - Cone of Cold, Empowered Fireball, Empowered Lightning Bolt

Force Missile x9, Extended Mage Armor II in effect, duration of 20 hours
 
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Highwind's Southern Gate near the Road of Kings.

"When I was a little girl, a war band of minotaurs kind killed many of my family and sold the rest into slavery, and I have been searching for the survivors of that attack for decades."

Baltor recoiled in surprise. "Whaaaaaat?! Hey, now! You know that wasn't us, right? No Highwind Minotaur would be so goddamn evil! An' since wild minotaurs don't deal in no trade, that kinda narrows it down..." Baltor snorted hatefully. "There's only one bunch of dickless cowards who would pull that kinda shit on your people..." He gritted his teeth instead of stating that heartless name.

Who would I have to speak to regarding being able to look at his books to see if by chance he wrote down the knowledge that I seek?

Baltor rubbed his chin, his brown eyes wandering. "Probably Randall Flagg with his snooty, crusty, ol' self. That dude is the Grand Vizier of all'a Highwind and loved Oscar in his own way. But gettin' help outta him is like... like... takin' an orc to a beauty contest! You just can't win!"

"And I'm quite sure that Sif has never had her 'titties' spoken of in such a fashion, and I will have to remember that for future conversations, so thank you for that."

"Oh, sure she has! Don't you know your Norse mythology, Elfie-girl? Sif got the best titties in all'a Asgard! You think big, bad-ass Thor would go for anything less? Not my God of Thunder!"

The Highwind Minotaur peered at the long line behind Oreleth. "So... this here line ain't gettin' no shorter. You gonna state your name and country or what?"
 
Baltor recoiled in surprise. "Whaaaaaat?! Hey, now! You know that wasn't us, right? No Highwind Minotaur would be so goddamn evil! An' since wild minotaurs don't deal in no trade, that kinda narrows it down..." Baltor snorted hatefully. "There's only one bunch of dickless cowards who would pull that kinda shit on your people..." He gritted his teeth instead of stating that heartless name.
Oreleth lets out a sigh. "Yes, of course. I did not mean to try and accuse any of the lawful citizens of Highwind of such a crime, and if you will forgive my . . . vitriol . . . on the subject, even after all these years it is still a sore subject for me."
Baltor rubbed his chin, his brown eyes wandering. "Probably Randall Flagg with his snooty, crusty, ol' self. That dude is the Grand Vizier of all'a Highwind and loved Oscar in his own way. But gettin' help outta him is like... like... takin' an orc to a beauty contest! You just can't win!"
She tries to commit the name of Randall Flagg to memory. "Perhaps he is as ugly as an orc at a beauty contest, but I can be very convincing when I need to be. I thank you for the warning, though."
"Oh, sure she has! Don't you know your Norse mythology, Elfie-girl? Sif got the best titties in all'a Asgard! You think big, bad-ass Thor would go for anything less? Not my God of Thunder!"

The Highwind Minotaur peered at the long line behind Oreleth. "So... this here line ain't gettin' no shorter. You gonna state your name and country or what?"
With a polite nod and the image of Sif's bust in her mind, the elf says, "Of course. We all have our duty to perform. I am Oreleth Soumral, from the Elven homelands in the Forest Eternal. I am here at the great city of Highwind to try and recover information for a quest of mine. As I said before, I intend no mischief in your city, I just plan on enjoying a hot bath and a good meal as I try to find a way to get the next location of the item that I seek. Is this adequate to you for my entry, good sir?" She stands straight and tall as she looks the minotaur in the eye, not afraid, but instead focused on her goal.
0 - Ray of Frost, Flare, Light, Mage Hand
1 - Shield x2, Shocking Grasp, Burning Hands
 
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