Where Dragons Fear To Tread - Prologue

[willpell]

The tavern is an institution in adventuring lore, present in more than half of the legendary tales of Whiteleaf's greatest heroes (even if that might be below the median for certain other cosmologies, whose existence is barely suspected within this one). Many strange tales of bravery, atrocity, romance, enterprise, and spiritual discovery have begun in an inn or pub - but not all taverns are created equal. Few, for instance, can claim to be as large and ostentatious as the one whose owners, having found themselves on the crest of transformative events which left them with far greater wealth and responsibility than they ever believed possible, renamed their originally nondescript establishment with a sly wink and a nod to its sudden explosive success: the Inn Consequential.

With spaces for over a hundred travelers, the Inn rises four stories, being constructed primarily of light-hued orange/tan bricks, with a famously comfortable interior courtyard surrounded on three sides by the balconies adjoining its thirty priciest rooms. The kitchen is top-notch, and the waitstaff are legendarily patient with the broad variety of exotic creatures which pass through, traveling along one of the several major thoroughfares which intersect here. This may be why the presence of a "chicklet", a pair of savage-looking elves, a dragon-scaled countess, and a ghost (and one human who looks innocuous enough, aside from being proximate to these others) has barely fazed the smartly uniformed servants. Mostly female, but costumed in a manner displaying only the barest hint of the chauvinism which continues to loosen purses in all but the highest-class establishments catering to the famously red-blooded "adventurer market", these servants are ordinary local folk who've been fortunate enough to land an extraordinarily lucrative and stimulating job, and they aren't about to screw it up by displaying the age-old prejudices which Imperial propaganda is still far from sufficient to eradicate. Even so, there's a limit to just how far their tolerance can be pushed.

Four of you are gathered around one of the good-sized, round metal tables which dot the enclosed patio, each enjoying several "local specialties" ordered off the relatively diverse menu. Kast is suffering his usual sense of separation from his companion - even the far-above-average facilities of the Inn Consequential were not up to dealing with Kzri, so as usual he had to leave her in a copse of greenery, nearby with strict instructions to stay put and not eat anyone - and is brooding in one of the small, sheltered alcoves which are positioned in all of the Inn's many corners, affording a modicum of privacy to those who don't enjoy much in the way of company.

The courtyard is quite spacious and open-aired, enough that Dalsien feels as comfortable as he's ever been in a civilized area. Plants grow in pots or along portions of the wall here and there, and while it's obvious that they've been cut back regularly rather than permitted to grow wild, they at least are lush enough to enrich the air and gentle the soul's cravings. It was less pleasant passing through the tavern's entirely artificial front room, where those with no particular love of nature take their liquor amid the smoke of small wax candles guttering in ornate wall scones, but now that he's under the open sky again, he's managed to relax just a little.

Eileen is as relaxed as can be expected of a noble who finds herself surrounded by common folk; she received a few slight, hesitant stammers and stares when she first demanded service, but to their credit the employees have shown nothing but appropriate (albeit perfunctory) deference ever since she announced her pedigree. The portions of the inn meal are a bit small for her taste, but prove surprisingly filling and hearty. Come to think of it, that's been true for pretty much all the food she's been served since she left Fyertor lands and entered the "main" Empire.

Zaks is...well, managing. At least there was no trouble finding a "booster seat" sufficient to elevate him to the level of his traveling companions; while the "staff" here don't seem terribly familiar with the Zh'klet, there are enough halflings and gnomes through the region to ensure that the inn was prepared. Beyond that, the whispers of his crystal have managed to fill him in on enough of the basic social protocol of the area that he knows he isn't being intentionally insulted or anything (the fact that nobody can pronounce the name of his august people correctly is just proof of how pitiably lacking their intellects generally are).

Cassien, of course, is familiar enough with institutions like this one, and has visited them often enough in his youthful wanderings. His current fortunes are rather different, of course; he no longer has to take his meals among other children, far away from the free-flowing alcohol of the main pub area, with chaperones looming overhead to keep an eye on the youths while their parents tipple and carouse. Being the attractive and charming (however artificially) individual he is, he enjoys as much attention from the female majority of the servers as he wishes to command; he's not sure whether this is the kind of inn where you can slip a few extra coins into a "wench's" hand and find her in your bed when you retire for the night, but he is certain that he'd have little trouble convincing one to at least cozy up to him in one of the alcoves for an "intimate conversation" (with probably more than a few tactile elements) if he so chose.

Peculiarly enough, the member of the party who is dead is getting the liveliest reception; though a few individuals might have been "spooked" when Quinton first drifted in, he found little trouble in quickly convincing the locals which of the words in "ghost bard" was the important one, and quickly secured the innkeeper's blessing to occupy the modest stage in the not-quite-center of the courtyard, where he's managed to thoroughly entertain several passers-by with a recitation of a few popularly-acclaimed legends. (Burns: You may provide some stories if you wish, or I can dig some out of my various canonical and homebrew sources. Either way I will try to ensure that they sow seeds for possible future adventures.)

The drinks are coming as fast as you want them, the food is warm and satisfying in your bellies, and the Call to Adventure has not yet sounded for the day. For now, you can simply relax, enjoy each other's company, and take in the sights and sounds of the throng about you. No doubt, this peaceful condition will prove short-lived; it always does, somehow.

(Remember, you guys have been through the awkward getting-to-know-you stage already IC, so treat each other as proven acquaintances with at least a minimum of trust and respect for each other.)

[Quarg]

Elieen attempted to catch a waiter's eye again as she wanted to get some more tea. Although the staff was quite good, this tea from whatever-stan was quite subpar. She wondered how anyone could tolerate it let alone leave it on the menu. She looks over at Cassien, "Could you do that little wave thing again please, it seems to attract the staff here like flies to a corpse." She stops and shakes her head, "Bahh...bad choice but you know what I mean"

She looks over at Kast and sighs, she had agreed to this before realizing how glum it would make the outcast elf. She had gotten into a few nasty scrapes with him when she had first ventured into the Preserve, which is why she had asked for his help on the last matter also. Now that was out of the way, but he had gotten pulled into a society that really would have zero understanding for his giant companion.

[BadgeAddict]

Zaks, sitting quite happily on his raised throne (as using the word throne was the only way that the staff had been able to convince him to use it), looked around the large room admiringly. The humans were quite well known for the grandeur in their architecture and Zaks found himself nodding in an approving manner as he surveyed the lofty arches of the building. Of course, such lofty palaces could be destroyed so quickly with but a spark of flame or a puff of wind. A sly smirk found its way from his brain to his face. A flurry of whispers filled his mind and convinced him that such destruction, although inevitable by the hand of nature itself, didn't need any help from him. As he admired the room, his eyes caught sight of yet another human wench carrying mugs about to the various tables in the room and found himself slightly leaning toward having one for himself. The thought quickly left, as he watched a different human stagger about the room and proceed to hurl into the corner. "These are the consequences of too much ale" Zaks noted to others in his mind "and this is why i will not drink it."

[Arch Lich Burns]

"This next tale is one that is probably less known, but one which has driven me. There once was a man by the name of Velidor, now I know many lothe this word, but he was a paladin. He was not the one with the stick where it does not belong either."
Quinton waits for the crowed to quiet from laughter.
"No, he was willing to turn an eye away from things which broke tradition or law, if it means protecting as many as possible. He was much more vigilant than most other paladins, and while he tries to do good, not many liked him for it. He was a little bit pushy sometimes, and angered a few people. These people you all should know of. The fiends which call themselves Magic Domination, the cult which have plagued many people. The people who would do horrendous things to a person if they are caught by this cult.

Well, these people, they had an insider in a city he was in. They viewed him as a threat to their plan, which in part is to create ultra powerful magic items. But at a great cost. Velidor was captured by the cult, they tortured him for hours before they killed him and stole his soul so none could raise him. They used that soul shard, along with many people sacrafices to power a weapon, a rapier. This is the cost of the cult, too many lives have been taken by this cult, and they continue to gather items, gather people, gather followers. They have set up anti scrying so that nobody can find them by magic, and we have to find them by our own eyes. But do not fret, they generally do not reside in cities and would not dare try to capture someone if watched. But you should set up some alarms, even if they are as simple as a string and a bell.

Now this story, this story has no end, not yet anyways. Maybe one day Velidor can find his freedom, and to completly eradicate the cult, and able to accend."

Do you have to tell that story every single time you have an audience?
Yes, your story shows how the cult is, and to make them more careful
What about your story then?
Come on, you know that would just make them depressed.
And my story doesn't?
I hate it when you are right.

"Now, Velidor, he actually continued to fight the cult. Even as a weapon, he struggled against them, and he refused to hurt others in the cultist's hands, and when threatened he just laughed it off. There was nothing they can do to him. They cannot destroy the weapon, it holds his soul; they did not wish for him to accend. There was nothing they could do to him that they have not already done. He has planned many escapes. But how you ask, he is only a weapon. But he was no ordinary weapon, he could talk. Into people's minds.

He was able to have another to grab him, a rogue. Now this rogue got annoyed with the weapon quickly. And he gave the weapon to another, one that still holds Velidor. This is why the story does not end, for the wielder continues to fight against the Magic Domination, to make sure they will kill as few as possible. To make sure nobody is lured into the cult for the promises of powerful magic items.

This new wielder and Velidor became friends. Not right away of course, but their goals were aligned. They worked together for a while, at least until the wielder was captured. The pain and agony they inflicted on the wielder is unbearable to repeat. They disfigured him, tortured him, and then made him into a sacrafice. Many say that you can still see this wielder, and his weapon, warning others about the cult; to make sure none get hurt ever again."
Oh sure you give my name but not yours?
I would rather not give the cultists a clue to where you are, I don't want to loose you, or to lure cultists here.

"Now that was a sad story, lets liven it up, shall we?"

[spiderwrangler]

From his position in the alcove, Kast watches his companions... the barest whisper of a smile passing over his face as he watches them eat, drink and make merry. Had they been gathered for an evening meal in the wild, he may have joined them... briefly at least. Having no need to eat himself, the only draw to communal meals was fellowship with the others. Surprisingly, for the first time in memory, he was surrounded by individuals who not only tolerated his... interests, but seemed to value both him and Kzri as members of their group. Speaking of which, the empty void in his mind that her presence normally occupied seemed to be growing. How much longer must they stay here?

Raising a hand out of his shadowed corner, Kast summons a server, requesting a bottle of wine. When it arrives, he declines the glass and tosses a silver to the girl, tucking the bottle under his shirt after she departs. He swings his legs out of his alcove and nimbly scampers up the wall, over a balcony (nodding curtly to the inebriated patrons within) and continuing on to the roof. He settles into a reasonably comfortable spot and gazes into the distance in the direction where he knows Kzri waits. While she is still absent from his mind, he feels a bit closer to her up here than surrounded by the walls of the Inn. He sighs quietly and pulls free the cork, tipping back the bottle. Faint sounds waft up to him... the approving cheers of Quinton's audience, the clank of mugs and dinnerware, laughter and the sounds of... 'exercise' coming from a room below. In other words, none of the comforting sounds of nature that he craved.

Taking another pull from the bottle, he looks out in Kzri's direction. Hopefully the others will complete things here soon and they can depart so he can return to her.

[willpell]

► Show Spoiler

Being a purist about names, I am going to put my foot down and insist that the cult's name is actually Mystic Dominion, although you are welcome to have either or both of Quinton and Velidor misremember (or deliberately mispronounce, as an act of thoroughly justified spite) the name. Were they my characters, I'd probably have Quinton say the name wrong and Velidor correct him, and Quinton ignore the correction. But they are not my characters - but the cultists are my NPCs, so they will have an actual name which I think is cool. Other than that, great post.

I was tempted to have one of the assembled witnesses correct the assertion that "most" paladins are not as genuinely pure-hearted as Velidor was - the stereotypical Templar paladin is an extreme rarity in Whiteleaf, since Good Is Not Dumb and similar tropes are very firmly enforced here. But since your post was really cool, I'll assume that there either isn't anyone in this particular audience inclined to contradict you, or else your performance was compelling enough that they find themselves not wishing to after all. And I will definitely be incorporating elements of your story into the plot as we go forward.

I hope my inability to not be OCD about the name thing is tolerable, as long as I make it up to you in the fullness of time.

[Arch Lich Burns]

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yea he deliberately got it wrong then. Magic Domination was the best i could think of at that time.

Oh I know, good is not always nice. Quinton is too, hence the stick where it does not belong.


And I have more stories. Most from games i have played, others from characters i made but never had the chance to play.

[willpell]

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Oh I know, good is not always nice. Quinton is too, hence the stick where it does not belong.

Well, "Good is Not Nice" is also a trope in the setting, but what I said was "Good is Not Dumb", which is a different trope. So relatively few paladins have The Stick (TM); most of the ones I'm responsible for legitimately do play the Virtuous, Noble, Self-Sacrificing Force for Pure Good (In a Lawful Way) archetype completely straight, because they actually know that if they act like templars and make everyone feel inferior to them, they will not be as effective as if they behave graciously, act with genuinely bottomless wisdom and/or compassion, and win the honest gratitude of all but the most curmudgeonly folk. Tales of a paladin being a jerk in Whiteleaf are usually lies; almost nobody who has actually met a real paladin will believe them, and impostors pretending to paladinhood are found out with disproportionate quickness. If the players were Evil and their job was to advance the cause of Evil, genuinely undermining people's trust in the paladins of the world would be a major coup, with a steep Challenge Rating attached.

And I have more stories. Most from games i have played, others from characters i made but never had the chance to play.

You probably don't have as many as I do (since I make literally hundreds of characters), but there's a good chance you'll tell them better, or that they'll just plain be better/

[Arch Lich Burns]

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some of my characters are pretty weird, Quinton is tame in comparison to what I made. The wierdest thing I made was probably from Shadowrun. A troll i was unable to play, but i had fun making.

"Now this one is a tale of the unlucky ranger. Skill wise, he was pretty good, just do not ever send him out to adventure away feom the woods. But why you ask, well it has been said that he had a curse upon him, a curse so severe which if he tried to do something while adventuring he always failed, no matter what. If he tried to shoot at something while adventuring his bow would snap, suddenly fall out of his hands, almost shooting himself in the foot. He tried so hard, but no matter what he did, it was always failure. One time he tried to bend over to pick something up to fall flat on his face. A few times he almost got himself killed due to his luck. Now you said you had an off day, well he had nothing but bad luck. And in spite of his terrible luck he prevailed, and while he could not adventure, he was able to find his own way to contribute. If he could, with his horrible luck, you can as well."

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ah my forst character in dnd his curse was constantly rolling ones. It got to the point where i got bored of the gm saying you drop your weapon and told him to be creative

[Amara]

"That wave? Why, whatever do you mean?" Cassien's lips spiked up in a jaunty, lopsided smile. He was toying with the rim of his own glass, presently. The stuff smelled strong, and was his second such drink, but it was in truth so watered down with additives that the alcohol content was minuscule; it was an old trick he had learned. Of course, he didn't expect to need to fool present company, but he still wasn't entirely certain how the night would end. Deniability might be good to have.. It could certainly never hurt.

He caught Kast leaving, but didn't comment. The elf's exit was likely for the better, if he was uncomfortable. The human's slender fingers circled the rim of his glass again, before he lifted it and took another sip. His eyes remained primarily on the crowd around them. He kept a smile plastered on he face, laughed when appropriate, and by all accounts acted as though his full attention was on his companions, but the young man's mind was elsewhere. In truth, he was on alert. If he saw any...familiar faces... he was ready to run.

[Synch]

Whatever this fluid was, it was not something Dalsein could pluck from memory, but he certainly did enjoy it! The firewater burned his throat, but put a pleasant warmth in his chest and stirred his spirit. He took another bite of the succulent pear, juices dribbling down his chin. What he had missed! Living on rainwater and honeyed drinks for a lifetime wasn't terrible, but every now and then in the forest he had figments of a life long past. The soft, velvet touch of spiced wine on his tongue. The sweet scent of jasmine in the hair of an elven maiden. Talk. Laughter. Company. And finally here he was, with those sparks of memory taking physical shape amongst him. But why did it all feel so unnatural, so alien? Dalsein was so sure that once he was amongst some familiarity of civilisation, everything would come flooding back. But it all still seemed so intangible, those recollections, like a dream that drifted to nothingness as one awoke. And it was something he could take no comfort from, he would find no solace in what still remained firmly beyond his grasp. No, he realised he still longed for his treetop abode, the crinkle of leaves in the fall, the wind through the trees, the once sacred shelter of The Seasoned One. Home?

Dalsein takes another swig as he watches Kast make his way to the rooftop, and after a moment's hesitation, decides to follow him, throwing the pear core over his shoulder and swiftly scaling an ivy covered trellis. He slumps down on the roof on the other side of the courtyard and inhales a deep breath of crisp air as a breeze rolls in from the copse. The small one had brought him to another wood elf as it had promised, but why was this fellow elf holding back?
He leans in Kast's direction and speaks in quiet and melodic Elven:
"Ah, how quaint this all seems! These humans go to much effort to build such elaborate structures that tower above oaks and stretch for yards, and surely must have razed a small forest in harvesting the materials for a place such as this, only to then make sure they include plenty of nature's greenery in their communal areas! To capture the ambience of the outdoors! Why not save the effort, and drink amongst the trees, eh?" He pauses, looking at Kast wistfully gazing out at the copse. "Pardon for encroaching on your solitude. This is all very uneasy for me too."

[spiderwrangler]

((Assuming that Dalsein doesn't fail his Climb check... ))

Kast hears another approaching (+16 to Listen) and pauses with the bottle halfway to his lips, his right hand reaching for the kukri at his thigh. Seeing Dalsein pop above the edge of the roof, he relaxes his grip on the kukri's handle and finishes his pull on the wine.

At the other's remark, his brows furrow at the thought of the wastefulness of human 'civilization'.

"Indeed."

Flipping the bottle and catching it by the neck, he extends it towards the other elf.

"They control that bit of nature," Kast nods towards the courtyard plants, "and so, do not fear it."

[Quarg]

Elieen swore inwardly as Dalsein vanished throwing his refuse around like the barbarin hermit he was. "Ugh..." She knew in a moment that the Zh'klet would likely decide to attend on Kast with him being offered all sorts of interesting opportunities for mischief...and he did mischief like an Orc Cohort did. She stood up and walked over to where Quinton was holding court. She said as an aside to him, "Please go see if you can get Kast back down here before Zaks takes off after him...." Realizing that it is already too late she adds. "I'm too damn tired for this crap. I'm going to go get some real drink into me...."

Elieen wandered back into the Inn and up to the bar. She ordered a bottle of durkem and a glass, the bartender just blanched at her for a moment and she commented in dwarvish <I know what I want, I have drank far more durkem than has ever flowed through this place.> Finally the man produced a bottle of second rate crap brewed in some pigsty human town not far from here. She eyed him for a moment and just pushed the bottle back. He produced a decent bottle, produced by actual dwarves, a moment later and she nodded, filling a shot glass with the clear liquid. She took a shot and enjoyed the burning sensation run down the back of her throat...

Why am I still here?..It is obvious that whatever fond feelings I have for Kast are immaterial to him... she thought dryly.
Hell Kast will return to his beloved woods and kazi soon enough...and with it will follow the hermit and unicorn of mayhem...

She took another shot and continued to dwell...

I doubt Cassien has hung around except that I am a very good ally to have around, whatever has him watching his back like a sneak thief....
but both him and the ghost are so single minded on their own missions of revenge...
Hell if Cassien wasn't so bent on revenge I would just send him north to my Uncle, the Count would find him a useful fellow as I have. Even if my Aunt wants me so far from her son....Well hell she'd prefer it if I was as dead as Quinton..... My uncle would find him a place in the household

She took a few more shots and then snarled, a few of the other bar patrons edged away.

Just be honest with yourself...this group should be going on its merry separate ways...and your going to be stuck wandering alone around this god forsaken Empire once again...Dismissed by commoners who think their superior to me...ignoring the blood and treasure we nobles have had to bleed and spend so they could sleep in their warm little beds at night...They seem to think the world no longer needs people on the walls watching for the enemy...

And even more shots.

Maybe it is...after all what threatens the Empire these days? A bunch of mad hatter cultists?

[Synch]

► Show Spoiler

+10 to climb, he won't fall
Will, I will do Elven in italics and quotations, common normally in quotatons, and internal thought in italics without quotations.

Taken aback by the gesture, Dalsein pauses momentarily before flashing Kast a grin and shuffling over to his side of the courtyard where he reaches for the wine bottle and takes a pull.

"They would do well to. Take away human control for but a few years, and nature would destroy this place. They think they are such masters of their dominion, and yet man's influence can be as fleeting as a heartbeat compared to the The Seasoned One. Ah, I prattle! Too long spent listening to the sound of my voice, I sometimes still forget about replies!"

He hands the bottle back to Kast before reclining contentedly. After a few quiet minutes he rolls to his side, seeing Kast still gazing out to the copse. "She means a lot to you, doesn't she?"

[spiderwrangler]

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Neither will Kast.

"Cloak of Arachnida - This black garment, embroidered with a weblike pattern in silk, gives the wearer the ability to climb as if a spider climb spell had been placed upon her.

The subject can climb and travel on vertical surfaces or even traverse ceilings as well as a spider does. The affected creature must have its hands free to climb in this manner. The subject gains a climb speed of 20 feet; furthermore, it need not make Climb checks to traverse a vertical or horizontal surface (even upside down). A spider climbing creature retains its Dexterity bonus to Armor Class (if any) while climbing, and opponents get no special bonus to their attacks against it. It cannot, however, use the run action while climbing."

unicorn of mayhem...

HAHAHAH! I missed this earlier. I think that is part of his official title, yes? Zaks, Unicorn of Mayhem

Zaks has a poor climb check, I'm starting to think that climbing into trees and the like is Kasts way of avoiding his little 'buddy' when he doesn't want to be bothered... or at least forcing Zaks to burn psion points to Levitate up to bother him.

"Yes.", Kast replies eloquently.

[Synch]

Not wanting to push Kast into any more conversation, Dalsein rolls back onto his back. After many more peaceful minutes, Dalsein rises and, giving Kast a brief nod, slips back down the trellis to rejoin Zaks.

"Hey Sparrow, tried the firewater?" He grins, his affectionate name for Zaks an indication of the friendship he has developed with the Zh'klet over the past months (years?)

[willpell]

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Sorry guys, I'm not ignoring you, but it's proving that even the slightest update is hard to do without your finalized stats, and it's taking forever to make that happen. I'm halfway there now, and hopefully Quinton and Zaks were the hardest characters, so with luck I can get everyone else except maybe Eileen attended to quickly enough.

Meanwhile, here's both a case-in-point and some busy work. The three characters who have been 100% approved (Cassien and the other two), please give me a roll for each of the eleven "official" Knowledge skills there is (you can throw in Ghost Lore as the twelfth if you're not bored with Invisible Castle by then), regardless of whether you have ranks in it. These are DC 10 checks, so they are allowed to be done untrained; anyone with nine ranks in the Knowledge can "take 1" and not bother to roll. The result will then be converted into a short "dossier" of basic setting info, tailored to each character's education or lack thereof - the die roll represents whether you happened to pick up the fact through personal experiences, while skill ranks will guarantee that you've been formally taught at least some of these trivia. The other three characters will also be making these rolls once I'm certain that their Skills are accurate, which wouldn't take long to check if that was all I was looking at, but I don't operate that way unfortunately, so they'll just have to keep RPing until I get to them.

[Amara]

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The roller we usually use doesn't work on my phone (internet is down...again), so I used the old wizard one. Hope that's okay.

So taken in order
Arcana 7+9=16
Engineering 8+4=12
Dungeoneering 7+4=11
Geography 8+4=12
History 20+4=24
Local 16+7=23
Nature 7+4=11
Nobility 5+4=9
Psionics 7+4=11
Religion 19+4=23
Planes 6+4=10
A pity I can't pass a 10 on untrained knowledge checks anyway. Apparently Cassien decided to suddenly be very enthusiastic about history.
...love that Nobility is the one below 10. Yeah, that sounds like him alright.

[willpell]

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Great. I have to give you every fact I have except one. This'll take a while.

[BadgeAddict]

Zaks grimaced as the Dalsein spoke the nickname that he had given to Zaks, Little Sparrow. The whispers didn't need to remind him how simple the barbarian was though and Zaks flashed a toothy grin in Dalsein's direction. "I do not drink, especially not such liquids which quell the intellects of one such as myself, you should know this Dalsein."

Zaks eyes wandered up in the direction that Dalsein had climbed down from and began to wonder why his chest hurt when he thought of the loneliness of the one who had saved his life. Pushing away such feelings, if that indeed was what they were, Zaks walked over to a relatively clear space in the crowded tavern. Drawing upon the powers that lingered within the back of his mind, he levitated (3 PP, 90 minutes in length) upwards until he reached a vantage point where he could find Kast. Upon reaching Kast, Zaks hovered nearby, a few feet out of reach. (Long ago, Zaks had learned not to come too close to Kast while he was brooding, which typically happened in trees or on top of other tall objects. He had learned his lesson about a year ago when, upon hovering next to the brooding wood elf, he had been swatted from the air, breaking his concentration and falling 50 ft to the ground.) "Your heart lies in another place friend, if you wish, I can keep you informed of what happens if you wish to go and see her now and then." Zaks tapped the side of his head, reminding Kast of his ability to correspond with him directly, mind to mind. (This was how he had finally been able to catch up with the wood elf again).

► Show Spoiler

Arcana (6) + 19 = 25
Architecture and Engineering (6) + 18 = 24
Dungeoneering (6) + 15 = 21
Geography (6) + 1 = 7
History (6) + 6 = 12
Local (6) + 19 = 25
Nature (6) + 4 = 10
Nobility & Royalty (5)(intelligence roll) + 14 = 19 (I forget how Intelligence rolls work, I think you have to roll at least a 15 to get a positive untrained check)
Psionics (6) + 14 = 20
Religion (5)(intelligence roll) + 2 = 7 (same as above)
The Planes (6) + 15 = 21
Ghost Lore (5)(intelligence roll) + 18 = 23 (same as above)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4686091/

I find this roll very fitting to Zaks, geography (who cares), Religion (bunch of nutters anyways), nobility? (whats a noble other than a man with money)

[Amara]

The smile had, of course, long since vanished. Cassien leaned against the table now, and downed what remained in his glass. His gaze swiveled the room once more, just to be sure, before he spoke up again. "Well. Seems I'll soon be the only one holding this table down."
He was anxious himself, of course; it was difficult to relax in public places when crowds could conceal dangers poised to end his life. ...and being alone made him a far more obvious target. Dalsein had returned, only for Zaks to leave instead. Perhaps his companions were as filled with nervous energy as he, this evening?

[spiderwrangler]

"I'll be alright. Hopefully we're leaving soon."

Zaks probably wasn't going to let him be... he might as well rejoin the others. Kast stoppers the bottle and tucks it into his shirt again before shimmying down the wall with ease, not waiting to see if Zaks follows. As much as he'd like to go and visit Kzri, he didn't relish giving an excuse for the Zh'klet to project his piping voice into his mind. Zaks claimed that he couldn't read thoughts or exert influence while he was in there, but it still unnerved Kast.

Reaching the ground, he strides across to the table where Cassien is looking a bit displeased and nervous. Slipping into a chair, he pulls out the bottle of wine and shakes it slightly to indicate it is still half full before placing it on the table between Cass and Dal.

"You look as happy to be here as I am.", he remarks with a quiet sigh, his gaze wandering the courtyard as well.

► Show Spoiler

Will, I'm sure you are aware, but the impatience is coming entirely from Kast, not from me.

[BadgeAddict]

Being brushed off by Kast was not uncommon for Zaks and he accepted it without feeling slighted as he watched carefully elf descended to ground level, making sure that he was available should the man slip and fall. Once Kast made it safely down he descended slowly until he was hovering slightly above the ground.

Zaks didn't like to admit it, but he was stingy to the point of madness; he often escaped at night into the solitude of his hoard to carefully count and polish his monies. This stinginess led him to use every ounce of a power once he had mentally dredged it up from the dark recesses of his mind. Due to this fact, as he reached the safety of the ground, instead of walking over to the table, he just hovered over. Once he had reached the small throne that the staff had given to him, he crossed his legs and hovered over the spot which was his at the table.

He could tell, by the looks on the faces of the others in their small group, that none of them were all that happy to be here. "Perhaps if we had better entertainment" he said, raising his voice loudly enough hoping that the foggy form of a specific bard could hear. Turning toward the stage, he called out "Let's hear a story about the great dragons."

Oh, how Zaks loved to hear stories of the great dragons. Being of dragon blood himself, he couldn't help but puff his chest out with pride when he heard of the great and terrible deeds of his ancestors. He often thought of which Dragons he might be related to and what great deeds were done by those that birthed his people.

[Quarg]

► Show Spoiler

.....Being of dragon blood himself......

*Laughs Hardily*
This being true, and (anticipating no loss in skill points after review)
Elieen has a diplomacy of something like 20 on dragon blooded creatures
(And I believe a +4 boost to Elieen's intimidate for dragon blooded creatures also)

Elieen stops her drinking for a moment and then walks back out the the patio with the bottle in her hand on hearing Zaks call. She leans against the doorway and looks up up at the floating creature and sighs. "I forgot he can do that...better than him chasing up there after you past all those human filled rooms though Kast." There is a bit of bite on the last few words.

She pours herself another shot and downs it. "I wonder if the ghost knows any dragon tales, besides the one about the Dragon of Puff..."

She starts to sing the tune in elvish
Puff the Magic Dragon Lived by the Sea
And frolicked in the Autum Mist in a land called Honah Lee
Oh the humans feared great old puff
For roast them alive for all their fancy stuff...

[spiderwrangler]

"They would have found that... startling."