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Chapter Fifteen: The Wayward Wanderers Return to Highwind!

Dannigan

Kaerri's Man. =)
Supporter
(Okay! Part 3 of 2! D'oh! =) )

Kaerri Kaerri Sherwood Sherwood Psychie Psychie Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus D. Rex D. Rex

Back at the Kings Tables, the Wayward Wanderers are sharing good times. Even the magical items appear to be having a time of their own as Bren's Cratian Edge and Kaerri Rainshadow's Wave silently brood at each other as if for the sheer heck of it. Suddenly, a happy little shriek carries from the bar through the tavern as Bria spots a certain Shadowdancer. "Kaerri! Hi-hiiI!!" In moments, Bria of the Ko, looking like nothing more than an attractive serving girl, tray in hand, comes grinning ear-to-ear as she sets down a round of quality potent ale, mead, and one heavy mug of something dangerous-looking for all of you. "Here! On the house from Olgerd! Dwarven Gold, Heartsmead, and one Black Pudding Lager for anyone daring enough to try the last! Eeeee! Kaeeerriii!" Rainshadow is "attacked" by Bria in one of her warm and loving hugs. "We'll talk later! We're shorthanded tonight!" Then Bria runs off to continue serving.

* * *​

Lord Callen replies to Kaerri, "Oh, nothing of the sort! Alignment is its own matter. Since when were all Shadowdancers of good natures, I wonder?"

* * *​

Glider has delivered his shield to Bren and gives him a big hug back as the other Wayward Wanderers continue to enjoy themselves. "Now, my heart is at ease! Oh, I've just felt so terrible about that ever since it happened!"

"Glider-face!" Powerpaw interjects. "You waz cursed wif dat crown-thingy on yer head!"

"I know! Still, doing this just makes a guy feel better. Even a monk-guy!"

"Yeah, I gets it! Nuffin' like sayin' 'sowwy I broke yer shield even tho I wuz not me at da time. Dang enchantment spellz!"

* * *​

About this time, three Kobolds show up together and appear to politely wait their turn as they examine Brendoran head-to-toe and make quick little comments to one another. Two are wearing the livery of Highwind City Guards (though something tells each of you they are not here on official business) while another is dressed in fine-looking green robes with a satchel full of books. All three of them are wearing small, shiny silver charms around their necks. They wait for Bren patiently...

...however, it is another member of the Wayward Wanderers, simply sitting there, having a drink, that overtakes their attention!

Otiorin Taletreader notices a faint pulling from deep within him, soft but unable to be ignored. As the Half-elf turns, there he sees two of the three Kobolds staring up at him in awe, their silver charms shining brightly.

Grit, being D. Rex's character, gets to decide how his little Kobold reacts, of course!

Before Otiorin or any of the Wayward Wanderers can say a word, the Kobolds are on their hands and knees chanting to Otiorin right there in the middle of the tavern! This draws attention from everyone nearby as the Kobolds cry out, "Charmsring! Great Charmsring! Mightiest of all Silver Dragons! Allow us to serve you, we of the Kobolds of the Silver Sun would have you as our god!!"

What do the Wayward Wanderers do? 8D
 
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Sherwood

Luna's Concubine
Supporter
By this point, Luna is starting to feel the effects of the wine she's been drinking, and is feeling quite good. She joins in the welcoming of Kaerri with, "Well now! It seems that everyone of the Wanderers know you quite well indeed! I look forward to the 'getting to know you' part of our adventure. Allow me to introduce myself! I am Luna Callen, pyromancer extraordinaire!" She then gestures up at the pseudo dragon on her neck. "And this lovely one here is my dear friend, Sparkle. Say 'hello', Sparkle!" Luna giggles a bit, taking another big drink of her wine.

Then she sees the trio of kobolds come up to Otiorin and proclaim their devotion to him and she raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Otiorin? Is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class?"
 

Psychie

Princess Psychie
Oreleth is enjoying her conversation with Dendarian, and spends some time sharing the highs and lows of the past ten years that they have been apart, going into detail on the words of the spooky fellow in the frozen lands of Loviatar's realm. She says, "Between what he told me and the fae hairs that you have provided, I am a step closer to crafting my own Songbow, assuming that I can't find one that's already built."

She then looks over with a grin as she watches Luna try to have a coherent conversation with all the alcohol she's had. Oreleth raises up her mug in greeting to Kaerri. "Well met, Kaerri. I am Oreleth Soumral, and I must say that I am glad that I am no longer the newest member of the Wanderers. It has fallen to me to take care of the cooking much of the time, and now I happily turn that chore over!" She grins again as she takes a drink of her beer.

"Seriously, I have a --" Stopping suddenly, Oreleth looks over at the trio of kobolds as they talk to Otiorin. "What is all that about?"
 

Dannigan

Kaerri's Man. =)
Supporter
In decent Wood Elfish, the beautiful old dragoness upon Luna's shoulder says to Rainshadow, "Shade and sweet water. I am Sparkle, Luna's *hic* familiar." Sparkle wobbles a little and looks over at Luna, but before she can query or protest, a shadowy being lifts up beside them and in a young man's voice, he speaks.

"Allow me to get you another, sis!"

The the shade of a man is gone and soon another full glass of wine is floating before Luna. "What? Where?" Sparkle looks around, a little too dazed to realize it is Alec, Luna's brother, performing the serving.

* * *​

She says, "Between what he told me and the fae hairs that you have provided, I am a step closer to crafting my own Songbow, assuming that I can't find one that's already built."
Denarian waves to Rainshadow. "Dendarian of the Forest Eternal. Shade and sweet water to you! Illri's daughter, aren't you? There's a grouchy, blood-hunter if there ever was one! Stay out of his way, no matter the season!" Dendarian gives Oreleth a sideways grin for not introducing him to one of the few Half-elves either of them has ever beheld.

Dendarian raises his hand and with a broad grin, the handsome Wood Elf wearing fine dark studded leather armor with a Wood Elfish recurve bow strung over his back and a pair of blades sheathed safely on his athletic hips, he says, "Perhaps you should go pay a visit to that magic shop where the vigil was being held? Sure, it's run by the largest humans I have ever seen, but if their quality matches their size, then they may be able to lend a hand in your quest, hmm?"

Then he spots the Kobolds and the shining charms they wear. Once he hears their chanting, Dendarian shoots Otiorin then Oreleth the most puzzled of looks. Oreleth has not seen Dendarian this off-balance since their first battle against the Bloodland Minotaurs together.

"By Solonor's bow, Charmsring?! The Silver Dragon?! Here?!"


A hooded elf some of you recognize as Shalin Riversbane raises a hand into the air and in the Common tongue, electrical words beautifully writ, flash into the air. "Stranger things have happened within these walls!"
 

D. Rex

Magic Eight Ball
Grit stared. It was Charmsring! Here! Already! And the journey had just begun. To think it would be this easy. Though while he counterparts bowed and chanted, Grit oddly enough did not find himself compelled to do so. Well okay, he felt a little compelled to do so, but he resisted. His time away from the tribe had been an eye opening adventure. Learning more about gods and dragons, even. The nature of good and evil and how it isn't so clear cut as black and white.

Breaking himself from his awe, Grit wrapped a knuckle atop the noggins of the stooges, "Quits yours grovelings. Masta Charmring won't appreciate us making a scene for him here."

The blue kobold hastily bowed to the dragon, "Please forgive us Lordie Charmsring, we are desperate. Our tribe is abandoned and alone and we really really really needs yours help. The Pain Lady Clan has put a curse on us and ares trying to destroy the new life we's be's trying to building. Please, Great One, our Clerics needs your blessings and our tribe needs your hope."


Kaerri Kaerri
As great as the dragon was, Grit could not forget the other reason he was here. Hurriedly, the tiny lizard man pulled out the bone scroll and holds it up high (though still pretty low) to the esteemed man. "Masta Sera Bina! The Grand Poobah is in need, and Captain Comander has pointed me's to yous. We wishes to hire yours Waywards Wanderers against the threat of the Pain Lady Clan. Ours eggs and everyone are in danger, we's will pay well! We's will, we will."
 

Captain Hesperus

Harbinger of the End Times and Apostle of Ghan
Administrator
Supporter
Otiorin Taletreader

Like nowhere in the world had Otiorin experienced anything as intense as the Adventurer’s Guild. In distant Waterwind, the inns were sedate affairs more given to the sound of Elven musicians and bards playing or singing and the pleasant scent of seasoned rare woods crackling in the hearth. In the smaller human towns, the inns ranged from bawdy houses where the ale ran as freely as the fistfights and the sound of some minstrel’s voice fought with the general clamour of the thirsty farmers, dockers and assorted roughfolk who tried to get their orders into the parochial innkeeper and his family.

But this place, this place was different. It seemed to be a glorious combination of the two plus so much more. Creatures of races Otiorin had never even heard of rubbed shoulders in the most companionable of ways. There were, indeed, no races here, just Adventurers doing Adventurer things. Cat-like centuars mingled with Hobbits and Elves, lizard-like humanoids ate and drank with men who had strange glowing rocks plaited into their bushy beards and hair, several Familiars drifted lazily through the air around their masters and a group of troubadors played a lively jig on a low stage that set the heart pumping faster and defied anyone to rap their tankards on the tables, clap or stamp their feet in time.

Otiorin was a little dismayed when Bria peeled away to aid the bar staff, but he smiled as he saw her change her garment and weave her way sinuously through the crowded taproom. She had such a good heart and such a shining soul, none in the world could behold her and not feel happier for the sight. For his part, Otiorin sat at the table set aside for his now much-inflated party and watched with interest as the others interacted with the trident-bearing woman they all seemed acquainted with. Kaerri. That was the name uttered by Powerpaw. Rainshadow. A name Bren seemed to know her by. He watched her as she cast her eyes across the Wanderers and felt a moment of foreboding as they settled on himself a moment longer than anyone else. His brow wrinkled under a light cloud of consternation, but she moved on to talk animatedly with the others as old friends are wont to.

As his fellow Wanderers and their friends, family and followers-on chatted, laughed and shared memories, Otiorin laid out the cloak of his thief's attire on the corner of the table that he had taken for himself and carefully set the newly acquired weapons he had been gifted by Malakye upon it. Two blades of Elven steel, two crossbows of Human artifice. The grace and power of the elder race paired with the innovation and artifice of the youngest race. Combined they were almost a poetic match for a Half-elf like Otiorin and the fact made him smile. But they would need proper harnesses and hangers if he was to wield them and carry them. He would not deign to drop them into the fathomless depths of his Bag of Holding along with the rest of his adventuring detritis. Perhaps Ben and Misha would have a fitting item, or the proprietors might direct him to a leatherworker who would make a custom rig for him. Thornblades up behind the shoulders, perhaps and crossbows in the small of the back, bolt clips in pouches ready to draw across the chest. Otiorin sat and figured the design as the others talked around him.

(Edit to add!)
Otiorin's mental plans are suddenly dashed upon the rocks of reality as a strange pull on his dragon-kissed soul was accompanied by a chorus of voices from somewhere near what would be his waist height that began to speak in unison.
"Charmsring! Great Charmsring! Mightiest of all Silver Dragons! Allow us to serve you, we of the Kobolds of the Silver Sun would have you as our god!!"
The Half-elf's jaw drops open at the sudden outburst and his eyes glanced madly around him at the many pairs of eyes suddenly turned his way. He hopped out of his chair and backed up against the table, nudging it enough that the unregarded mead set at his place rocked alarmingly close to falling.
Luna and Oreleth's comments brought a shade of red to his cheeks, but it was the words of one of the Kobolds that drew his attention most.

"Please forgive us Lordie Charmsring, we are desperate. Our tribe is abandoned and alone and we really really really needs yours help. The Pain Lady Clan has put a curse on us and ares trying to destroy the new life we's be's trying to building. Please, Great One, our Clerics needs your blessings and our tribe needs your hope."

"I-I-... What?", he stammered, looking at Bren desperately.
 
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Kaerri

Dannigan's Lady
Administrator
Supporter
Suddenly, a happy little shriek carries from the bar through the tavern as Bria spots a certain Shadowdancer. "Kaerri! Hi-hiiI!!" In moments, Bria of the Ko, looking like nothing more than an attractive serving girl, tray in hand, comes grinning ear-to-ear as she sets down a round of quality potent ale, mead, and one heavy mug of something dangerous-looking for all of you. "Here! On the house from Olgerd! Dwarven Gold, Heartsmead, and one Black Pudding Lager for anyone daring enough to try the last! Eeeee! Kaeeerriii!" Rainshadow is "attacked" by Bria in one of her warm and loving hugs. "We'll talk later! We're shorthanded tonight!" Then Bria runs off to continue serving.

Kaerri reaches for the ale, Brendoran for the mead; neither of them feels like courting a Fortitude Save at this time! Kaerri's reaching is interrupted by Bria's exuberant greeting, which the half-elf whole-heartedly returns, with a quick reply of, "OK! Noms for the table when you've got time? Whatever's easy!"

Lord Callen replies to Kaerri, "Oh, nothing of the sort! Alignment is its own matter. Since when were all Shadowdancers of good natures, I wonder?"

Kaerri just shrugs. "I haven't met 'em all, so who knows? I'd guess they're about as varied as rogues, m'self."

"I am Luna Callen, pyromancer extraordinaire!" She then gestures up at the pseudo dragon on her neck. "And this lovely one here is my dear friend, Sparkle. Say 'hello', Sparkle!" Luna giggles a bit, taking another big drink of her wine.

Kaerri grins and waves at them both. "Hiya, Luna and Sparkle." She cocks an eyebrow at Lord Callen. "Should we cut her off after another couple glasses, you think?"

Oreleth raises up her mug in greeting to Kaerri. "Well met, Kaerri. I am Oreleth Soumral, and I must say that I am glad that I am no longer the newest member of the Wanderers. It has fallen to me to take care of the cooking much of the time, and now I happily turn that chore over!" She grins again as she takes a drink of her beer.

That gets a laugh. "I can't say as I'm all that good at it, but I'll do my best if it's my turn. My vote goes to Bria, though; unlike me, she's had training!"

Denarian waves to Rainshadow. "Dendarian of the Forest Eternal. Shade and sweet water to you! Illri's daughter, aren't you? There's a grouchy blood-hunter if there ever was one! Stay out of his way, no matter the season!"

Kaerri switched to Elven, her Wood Elf accent as clear as her speech was suddenly less informal. "Greetings to you, Dendarian. Yes, that's me, and he's only grouchy when... well, all right, that's most of the time. I get a pass for being his daughter, though."

Before Otiorin or any of the Wayward Wanderers can say a word, the Kobolds are on their hands and knees chanting to Otiorin right there in the middle of the tavern! This draws attention from everyone nearby as the Kobolds cry out, "Charmsring! Great Charmsring! Mightiest of all Silver Dragons! Allow us to serve you, we of the Kobolds of the Silver Sun would have you as our god!!"

"I-I-... What?", Otiorin stammered, looking at Bren desperately.

Kaerri stares at her fellow half-elf in complete surprise for a moment, then bursts out laughing. "Sorry," she gasps. "Sorry, sorry, not making fun, promise!"

Bren shakes his head at her, then regards the kobolds with respect. "She's got a quirky sense of humor," he excuses her to the kobolds, then moves to rest a hand on Otiorin's shoulder (unless Otiorin objects). "This is Otiorin," he explains. "He is a true friend, and a good man, and strongly connected to a dragon, but he's not a dragon himself." He glances at Otiorin in case that needs correcting, then points at Kaerri. "She's met Charmsring, as has Shalin, the sorcerer there, which is probably why she finds the situation amusing. I'm not sure even so great a silver dragon would want worship, but as an ally I think you cannot do better." The paladin pauses to think what next to say, and finds himself directly addressed by one of the kobolds.

As great as the dragon was, Grit could not forget the other reason he was here. Hurriedly, the tiny lizard man pulled out the bone scroll and holds it up high (though still pretty low) to the esteemed man. "Masta Sera Bina! The Grand Poobah is in need, and Captain Comander has pointed me's to yous. We wishes to hire yours Waywards Wanderers against the threat of the Pain Lady Clan. Ours eggs and everyone are in danger, we's will pay well! We's will, we will."

Bren drops to one knee so that Grit won't have to strain to look up at him, and glances at the scroll, then past the kobolds to Gromash, to whom he offers a salute before returning his attention to the small man in front of him. "I won't be with them much longer, I'm afraid, but I'm sure they'll give your need all the consideration its due. Particularly if the Pain Lady is Loviatar? We've something of a score to settle with her, you see." He holds out a hand. "May I read your scroll?"
 

Dannigan

Kaerri's Man. =)
Supporter
Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus D. Rex D. Rex Kaerri Kaerri Psychie Psychie Sherwood Sherwood

He holds out a hand. "May I read your scroll?"
The Adventurers' Guild is lively with the sounds of chatter, rollicking laughter, dining, and lively music. More than a few eyes beyond the Kings Tables are planted on the Wayward Wanderers after the exclamation from the kobolds and Grit's declaration. Their silvery charms still shining, the scroll passes from kobold claws to human hands. Upon opening the scroll, a gout of magical flame-like light bursts forth in a heatless pyrotechnic attention-getting display. When it dissipates, it is replaced by the image of an aged kobold with curved fangs wearing heavy banded mail armor with a thorny staff in one hand and a kobold-sized shortsword in the other.

This impressive (for a kobold) figure stands straight-backed and serious. He also, at least at first, seems a touch unsure as if he is examining something you cannot see.

"Isss thisss... working? Do I ssstart talking now? Yesss? Oh, oh!" He places his sword over his chest and speaks with authority. "It's me! Da Grand Poobah! I iz here leadin' my faithful tribe, an' lemme tell ya. It's not easy. It's really not easy when you gotta spooky nasty-sick goin' around and dats what we got! Even worse, its da Goddess of Pain, dat Low-vee-ah-tar icky-chick out dere tryin' ta ruin our day! Tis a baaad time when you can't even go out ta find food fer your tribe wiffout gettin' da eeevil-sick from dis here plague!

"So I'm here ta ask youse young-un' adventurers ta come out an' give us a hand, see? I know what you want! Fames and fortunes! And we gots both!" He places his sword and staff down and seems to wrestle with what looks like an open chest filled with coin, items, and some jewels. "See dis here? It's all we gots left from when we wuz livin' in the Underdark - an' it's aaall yours if you can get rid of da evil-plague! You kin also do it ta protect yer own kingdom! Think plagues stop at high city walls an' such? Nope! Goes right over 'em! Sooner or later, you won't be ables ta leave yer shiny-city either lest ya wind up like some of da poor folks here in da woods!

"So come out an' see us an' make a name for yerself before someone else beats ya to it! I'm da Grand Poobah an' I approve of dis here message! Umm... are we done yet? Well, turn da blasted ting off already! Yeah! Dat knob right--" The vision of the regal kobold fades and the arousal of nearby adventurers rises as young folk from all kinds of backgrounds, Classes, and races share looks of interest. But... the Kobolds of the Silver Sun return to addressing the Wayward Wanderers. Especially Otiorin!

"This is Otiorin," he explains. "He is a true friend, and a good man, and strongly connected to a dragon, but he's not a dragon himself." He glances at Otiorin in case that needs correcting, then points at Kaerri. "She's met Charmsring, as has Shalin, the sorcerer there, which is probably why she finds the situation amusing. I'm not sure even so great a silver dragon would want worship, but as an ally I think you cannot do better." The paladin pauses to think what next to say, and finds himself directly addressed by one of the kobolds.
Looking back to the charms about their necks, one of the kobolds in the livery of the Highwind City Guard steps forward, pleading. "But... but... you gotta be Charmsring! Our tribe iz at our darkest hour here! An'... an' our charms never lie!" He wails, "somebuddy please tells me - what's goin' on?!"

This evokes a number of sympathetic comments from around all of you, the least of which is "awww!"

Then the robe-wearing kobold steps forward and stamps his little clawed foot. "Nitwit! This is no way to represents our tribe!"

"B--but Skiviks, what're we gonna dooo?"

"Simple!" Skiviks grins with great confidence. "Grit! Tell us what we're gonna do!" And as each second passes, Grit feels many adventurers from all over turning their fullest attention on him. In your area of the Adventurers' Guild, a quietness like a thick fog spreads as seemingly all eyes stare at Grit the Kobold for answer.

* * *​

Meanwhile, Luna's new glass of blueberry wine arrives, courtesy of her brother Alec who deposits it before her without a word. Sparkle is also at a lack of words and is sharing Luna's buzz though the pseudo-dragon has yet to touch a drop herself.
 

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