September 17, 2018 0 comments

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Quest against the Darkmaster (PbP)

Ooc: You folks can run multiple characters, if you want. I intend to keep this ENTIRELY casual, just a bit of fun. If anyone wants to manage more than one character, that’s totally fine with me. I’ll try to do something with whatever I’m served.

OOC - then I will create either  Noble Champion whose rogue mage background allows access to Healing spell lore and who can be a 2ndary 'front line' type OR an Animist with Healing spells and skill but not much use in front line.  Any preferences?

I have no preferences!

Barely has the Queen taken the two who spoke apart when a mud-splattered man comes into the hall, clearly fresh from the road, his spurs still jangling on his heels.  He seems taken aback at the assembly and glances questioningly at the elf-warriors who escorted him but their captain nods at him and gestures for him to move forward and speak.

"Your majesty, I apologize if I interrupt a gathering, but I was sent with grim tidings.  I am Leofred Aelredson, a Roadwarden from Southwatch.  A messenger from your court was found slain not a mile from Southwatch [a small Keep/chapterhouse maintained by the Order of the Evening Star, the man's elaborate breastplate showing its emblem].  No knowing what message he was sent with, my Preceptor ordered word be brought to you and to the messenger's kin, and the signet ring by which the messenger's status known returned to you."

The speaker is a Man, clearly of Noble birth, and a member of the Champion-order of The Evening Star - thus his lack of use of any noble title - sworn to protect all those who travel in wild places and to keep the Old Road open (Roadwarden being the lowest title among its members).


Oberon rises. “A messenger of mine, you say? Slain on the Southwatch Road?”

Oberon’s fingers clutch at empty air. “Come to me, Warden Leofred. Please, show me my man’s token.”

Behind Oberon, at the doors that, presumably lead to the library, Mab lingers. Her guests, naturally, pause as well.

Leofred steps forward and kneels, he does not know the customs of Elfkind (he is the equivalent of a caravan/body guard not a diplomat) and acts as he would in a court of men, he holds up to King's hand a finely wrought silver ring that looks like leaves entwined.

"This was recognized by the Preceptor as a sign of your court.  The messenger was slain by an ignoble blow to their back, either stealth or treachery.  Their remains are preserved against what instructions you would send."

Oberon appears barely able to restrain emotion.

"Aegras," he says. --An Elf, near the front of the court, one who already had begun to rise, concern etched deep into his features, comes fully to his feet.

"Mab," Oberon says. --She takes a step back from the doorway, passing between her guests.

"We must trust this token and this messenger, and, if they are true, then it appears your son, Aegras, our nephew, Mab, lies dead in Southwatch, slain by treacherous hands."

Leofred is shamed and angered to learn a noble (not just any elf) died 'on the road' on which his Order swears to protect travelers - he gains the Motivation - I will avenge the fallen elf messenger, who died on 'our watch' (a particular manifestation of his general motivation in that regard).

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Gabe Dybing

OOC - If play moves forward with these three PC's, only one of either Gyantwaka or Leofred will have 'particular opinion' on any given question of "do we go left or right, this or that" etc.  Rob

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Gabe Dybing

OOC - Haha! Yeah, I once played two characters in a 1e game who had “differences of opinion.” I had to give it up pretty quickly.

Mab strides forward to embrace her brother Aegras. Oberon likewise steps forward to wrap them both in his arms. Many in the assembly look on with sympathy.

When the lords have mastered their grief, Oberon addresses the council.

”My lords, this is a grave blow to our community, and we must spend some time to attend to this wound. For those here not of Elven kin, I know our ways may seem profligate of time, but we Elves have that in surfeit and consider it grave disrespect not to shed one small measure of it in respect of our fallen. I know that the tidings we have received here require attention. Nonetheless, for the nonce, this council is disbanded. You all have the leisure of our lands. We will resume these discussions in a fortnight.”