Chapter Eight: Reflections and The Highest Mountain

[Sherwood]

Luna is in a state of wonder as the visions from the Gate wash over her.  Someday, I will master magics like this!  I will make my name in history as one of the greatest mages of all time!  I know I will!  When they reach their destination, she is slightly disoriented for a moment, then shock takes over as she looks around at the bodies of the fallen giants.  Wearing fine steel armor?  This is quite disturbing.  Even more disturbing is the fact that she now finds herself and Wolf standing ON the body of one of the fallen.  Taking Wolf's offered hand, she carefully steps down next to the man that has claimed her heart. 


Looking around, ready to cast a spell at a moment's notice, Luna touches Wolf's shoulder to get his attention, then points out the Grey Elf that is kneeling in the dirt, not too far away.  If that one is the person responsible for taking out all of these giants, he or she is a formidable one indeed.  Now the question is, who is it, and will this person be friendly?


OOC: Can Luna make a Perception roll to identify just how these giants around her were killed, be it magic or slice and dice of a weapon?


Spells:


Cantrips: Detect Magic, Dancing Lights, Mage Hand, Read Magic


1 - Shield, Magic Missile x2, Unseen Servant, Ear Piercing Scream


2 - Scorching Ray x3, Protection From Arrows


3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Lightning Bolt


4 - Ball Lightning x2, Shout


Extended Mage Armor in effect until 1 am

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Otiorin watched the visions with bewilderment, his inquisitive mind pained at not having the chance to fully investigate the tantalising visions of other places. But his heart is warmed at the sight of Bria, but that too, is snatched away before he could enjoy it. Then he was free of the Gate and back in the world he knew to be real. And all about him was devastation. Giants and their kin lay strewn about like some titanic child's toys toppled over and discarded. The stench of the Ogres' noisome bodies burned his eyes and made his nose wrinkle, but he still had sense enough to ready Moonlit Edge and scan the surrounding forest even as his Wild kin filtered into the treeline like mist.


His eyes fell upon the Grey Elf knelt nearby and he rose from his defensive stance. The magic user was either burdened by the exhaustion of an epic battle or perhaps he was bending his thoughts to prayer. Either way, Otiorin thought it best to announce himself properly to prevent any misunderstandings.


"Mae l'ovannen! Im Otiorin, lle anta amin tu?"*, he called out in Grey Elven, shifting his sword to his left then raising his right over his head.


*trans: Well met! I'm Otiorin, do you need help?"

 

[Kaerri]

Bren Sarabina

Spoiler

Standard AC: 27


Fort save: +12


Ref save: +8


Will save: +4


Current action points: 9


Current HP: 87/87


Status effects: none


Powerpaw's tower shield +1


(-2 to attack rolls)


Spell: Speak with Animals

A look of chagrin passes over Bren's face when the visions start (not that any can see, at that point).  Whoops, I'd forgotten this part...


He sighs when the magic releases them back into the real world once more.  "Sorry, I didn't..."  He pauses, taking a moment to survey his surroundings and realize the battle's over, and the good guys -- good guy, rather -- has won.  His expression, at first concerned, breaks into a big smile when the gray elf stands under his own power, albeit with the help of his staff.  The big human immediately strides over, sheathing his axe along the way.  "Shalin!  Thank the gods you're all right?  Are you hurt?"  Upon reaching his friend's side, he reaches out to offer a hug, a supporting arm, anything the other needs at this moment.  His gaze falls once more on the dead foes, and he shakes his head in bewilderment as he looks more closely at them.

 

[Sherwood]

Luna feels a level of relief when Bren shows that he knows the man that seems to be responsible for taking out this mass of giants, but she keeps her guard up for other threats out there.  It could be that there is some more nasty guys out there.


"Bren, you have us at a bit of a loss.  You know this good man?"  She walks forward slowly, keeping Wolf nearby.

Spoiler

Cantrips: Detect Magic, Dancing Lights, Mage Hand, Read Magic


1 - Shield, Magic Missile x2, Unseen Servant, Ear Piercing Scream


2 - Scorching Ray x3, Protection From Arrows


3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Lightning Bolt


4 - Ball Lightning x2, Shout


Extended Mage Armor in effect until 1 am

 

[Purr]

"Mae l'ovannen! Im Otiorin, lle anta amin tu?"*, he called out in Grey Elven, shifting his sword to his left then raising his right over his head.

Lost in his own moment, the elven magister's eyes flash wide.  He whirls with a soundless gasp, surprised at the sound of Otiorin's voice, his arm outstretched as the burning rod of fire hangs suspended in the air.  One moment, there is silence.  The next, there comes a tremendously-loud and horribly-dangerous crackling of bright lightning, dancing blue and white along the magister's arm at his command - all aimed at Otiorin's vicinity.  Then suddenly, it is gone as soon as it has come as the magister calls it away.  He has recognized Otiorin for someone who is not his enemy in this hazardous wilderness.  He sighs.  His free hand then clutches his chest for a moment as his face takes on a look of great relief.


Instead of calling out a reply to Otiorin, that same hand reaches into the air.  All four fingers and thumb trail golden beams of light that hang in the air and in the span of only a few heartbeats, he has quickly and masterfully created writing in large letters, beautifully composed, there for you to read.  It reads: "Forgive me.  That you are not an ogre nor Formorian is aid enough, Otiorin Taletreader of the Half-elves.  That you greet me with the Moonlit Edge in hand is a blessing doubled."



(Spoiler has mood music.  Shalin wishes this song to be here for Bren for its message of fellowship down their long and exciting roads together of adventures past.  =)  )

His expression, at first concerned, breaks into a big smile when the gray elf stands under his own power, albeit with the help of his staff.  The big human immediately strides over, sheathing his axe along the way.  "Shalin!  Thank the gods you're all right?  Are you hurt?"  Upon reaching his friend's side, he reaches out to offer a hug, a supporting arm, anything the other needs at this moment.

Upon seeing Brendoran suddenly heading his way, the elven magister's fatigue seems to vanish.  He scribes: "Light of the stars!  Bren!"  With as much speed as he can muster, he half-walks, half-hobbles to Bren, meeting him in the middle (or close to it).  There, he accepts Bren's offer for a hug as only a true friend can.  Bren immediately notices that Shalin's robe has a dirty black and brown mark on his chest the size of a small shield.  Given Bren's experience, he knows this for what it is - Shalin was struck in the chest by a stone, and not the smaller kind that the ogres can throw...


Their hug reveals to Bren that Shalin is wearing his vest-harness under his robes.  He is as lean as ever without being sickly thin.  Bren can feel about half a dozen wands or rods hidden under Shalin's robes while another such enchanted rod still dangles in the air, flame-lit and dragon-mouthed, just above and behind Shalin's head.  


In Shalin's hand is an item instantly recognized by Otiorin, Luna, and Wolf - all have heard tales of the awesome Staff of the Magi.  Such a staff with its ever-present glow and incredibly-complex runes writ into its awe-inspiring solid oak haft is only carried by true wizards or sorcerers as no others can wield one.  A Staff of the Magi is more than a powerful symbol of arcane might; it is the very embodiment of mortal magic with creative and destructive powers of ancient legend.  If the tales told are true, there should no longer any wonder why there are nearly a dozen dead ogres and a Formorian corpse lying here - for a Master Sorcerer is among you, perhaps an Archmage himself.  


Shalin scribes again, wearily but excitedly, to Bren: "The Gate!   That is how you have come from nowhere.  And not any Gate, but one of Havoc's doing.  I saw it but put it out of my mind when the Formorian and his ogres set upon us but now I ramble on like a drunken hobbit.  How have you been, my dearest friend?  Who are your new friends that they may be mine as well?"  


Shalin hugs Bren again, this time fiercely.  He has not gotten a look at the rest of your party save for Otiorin, such is his joy to be in Bren's company once again, to what roads only time can tell.


(OOC note for Luna and Otiorin)

Spoiler

Both Luna and Otiorin recognize Shalin Riversbane, known among some as The Silent Sorcerer, by reputation.  This is what both of your characters know, Luna via her father, Otiorin via one of the Gray Elven scholars who sought to enlighten Otiorin while he was growing up in Waterwind.


Luna's father has spoken of many heroic arcanists of your time and Shalin was one of these since before your father was your age.  There was a time when he could speak, but according to legend, long years ago, in the Frozen Reaches, Riversbane along with his party of mighty adventurers opposed the "Maiden of Pain" whom you know as the evil goddess, Loviatar, when she attempted to create a permanent dimensional bridge from her native plane into Sharseya that she may bring her armies to invade the Frozen Reaches.  After an epic battle of cosmic proportions, Loviatar nearly won the day when Shalin discovered both the means and the method to destroy the very bridge she had nearly wrought into existence.  Some say at the cost of his own beloved party, Shalin destroyed the bridge and ended Loviatar's attempt to conquer the Frozen Reaches.  Cast out, Loviatar was forced back into her native realm, but not before she cast her own hellish curse upon him.  He has not spoken since.

 

[Kaerri]

Bren Sarabina

Spoiler

Standard AC: 27


Fort save: +12


Ref save: +8


Will save: +4


Current action points: 9


Current HP: 87/87


Status effects: none


Powerpaw's tower shield +1


(-2 to attack rolls)


Spell: Speak with Animals

Bren's grin widens even more, and he tosses a wink at Luna.   "Know him?  He's a dear friend -- indeed, I count him my best friend."  He gladly gives the elf a second hug, then turns and gestures grandly with one hand to the party.  "Of course! Shalin Riversbane, be known to my new party, the Wayward Wanderers*: Otiorin, who has introduced himself already, of quick wits and loyal heart; Luna Callen, fiery wizardess extraordinaire, and her familiar, Sparkle; Wolf, ranger of great skill."  His hand then moves to indicate the more exotic adventurers present.  "And of the Felane, Powerpaw, fearless warrior, and his mother Saberfang, the druidess known in these parts as Melshaef.  There is also a contingent of grugach about, but I don't know their names, nor do I think they will stay long with all the present giants already fallen..."  He glances around, noticing that the wild elves have vanished into the woods, then turns back to Shalin.  "We ran into Havoc and your daughter, and they explained a little of what you were up to, but such was the danger Kath felt you were in that we didn't wait for more detailed explanations."  He glances around at the corpses and smiles with a shake of his head.  "You seem to have taken care of them on your own, though!  This group, at least.  Are there more we should worry about?"


*I'm sorry if I get this wrong!  It's been so long I don't trust my memory of it.  Someone correct me if need be and I'll edit.

 

[Sherwood]

Spoiler

Cantrips: Detect Magic, Dancing Lights, Mage Hand, Read Magic


1 - Shield, Magic Missile x2, Unseen Servant, Ear Piercing Scream


2 - Scorching Ray x3, Protection From Arrows


3 - Haste, Fireball, Displacement, Lightning Bolt


4 - Ball Lightning x2, Shout


Extended Mage Armor in effect until 1 am

Luna opens her eyes in amazement.  It is not often that you meet a living legend like the Silent Sorcerer.  She waits for Bren to introduce the party to him before speaking, and then she dips down into a deep curtsey.  "Good master, it is an honor and a privilege to meet you.  I have heard much about your exploits, and you are quite the legend in my community.  I am at your service."

 

[Wolf Rawrrr]

Leonard Wolf - The Ranger

Spoiler

Shape: Human ||| 1st lvl spell: Delay Poison | 1st lvl spell: Entangle | 2nd lvl spell: Wind Wall

Following Bren and Luna's example, Wolf approached the arcanist and did a quick bow. "Greetings, Shalin Riversbane. Forgive me if I'm the only one to whom your reputation fails to announce you - I am somewhat sadly ignorant of magic and its famous practitioners. Except the one standing next to me, that is." He gave Luna a smiling sideways glance before resting his eyes back on Shalin.


"But what of the situation at hand? As Kath and Havoc explained it, things are, well... Bad." The ranger looked about him and added: "Though evidently not as bad as they were."

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Otiorin Taletreader - The Trickster Rogue


Otiorin froze as he saw the Elven mage begin casting, but instantly relaxed as the spell became a series of familiar words. Recognition of the infamous Grey Elf Shalin Riversbane made him smile and sheathe his sword. He remembered the balmy summer days in Waterwind where his tutors would wax lyrical about the feats of this most famed mage and now, Otiorin stood before him.


"Oio naa elealla alasse', heru en amin.", Otiorin spoke again, carefully approaching, his eyes watchful to their surroundings.


(translation: "Ever is thy sight a joy, my lord.")

 

[Purr]

(Location, time, and weather)

Spoiler

Location: Off the Road of Kings, somewhere in Southern Shandra's Evergreen (9 days south of Highwind)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Sunday, September 21st, 1118. Time: 11:05 a.m.


Weather: The air in this forest is filled with an electric charge, though beyond things seem sunny and calm.

"Oio naa elealla alasse', heru en amin.", Otiorin spoke again, carefully approaching, his eyes watchful to their surroundings.


(translation: "Ever is thy sight a joy, my lord.")

Shalin nods and smiles to each person in turn, as if not only pleased but grateful for the good company.  He leans upon his staff and scribes a beautifully-lettered reply to Otiorin in Common.  "I mirror thy shining words to thee, friend-of-my-friend.  But moments ago, twas only the eyes of Vaprak's* hideous hearts that gazed upon us."


(Spoiler = OOC)

Spoiler

*Shalin is referring to Vaprak the Destroyer, the evil and terrible god of trolls and ogres.

She waits for Bren to introduce the party to him before speaking, and then she dips down into a deep curtsey.  "Good master, it is an honor and a privilege to meet you.  I have heard much about your exploits, and you are quite the legend in my community.  I am at your service."

To Luna, he scribes.  "And I yours.  I have beheld your eyes before, young lady, but you did not wear them.  To once again witness your father's line venturing out against the dark in dangerous times as these fills me with happiness."   He also looks to Sparkle.  "Lady dragoness, your scales glitter as brightly as the day we first met."  


Sparkle, who bows to few, offers Shalin the same draconic curtsey she displayed for Koshianth.  I wish I could say the same for you, Lord Magister of the Broken River.  You look worse for wear.  


"And yet my heart beats while our enemies lie low and twisted before us like the roots of some tangled tree.  Last I gazed upon you, you were curled comfortably upon the shoulder of another Callen."


Aye.  The last I used my dragon-sight upon you, it was upon the shoulder of Luna's father.  We were all younger then...  Luna now is my familiar.


Shalin beams a warm smile at Luna not unlike his daughter's as he aims his finger pointedly at Sparkle.  "A wiser familiar you will not find in all of Summerset.  Know you even the King of the Golden Valley once desired Sparkle's wisdom at his side above all others of her kind."


Sparkle closes her eyes softly and grins at the compliment.  Oh, that was a long time ago...  You still have a way with words even if we cannot hear them.


The Silent Sorcerer and Sparkle share a deep-rooted smile.

Following Bren and Luna's example, Wolf approached the arcanist and did a quick bow. "Greetings, Shalin Riversbane. Forgive me if I'm the only one to whom your reputation fails to announce you - I am somewhat sadly ignorant of magic and its famous practitioners. Except the one standing next to me, that is." He gave Luna a smiling sideways glance before resting his eyes back on Shalin.


"But what of the situation at hand? As Kath and Havoc explained it, things are, well... Bad." The ranger looked about him and added: "Though evidently not as bad as they were."

(Spoiler=It's a Long Road [Instrumental])







Warmed by his interactions thus far, Shalin turns to Wolf.  He raises his hand to cast his words into the air once more...  and upon seeing Wolf's face, he freezes suddenly as surely as if he were petrified.  As Wolf speaks, Shalin's expression turns to one of total shock (and not entirely a pleasant one at that).  The gray elf looks back into Shandra's Evergreen from whence he stumbled and then back at Wolf.  It takes no spoken word to see that Shalin cannot believe his eyes.  He shakes his head again frantically, his blond locks storming, and looks again at Wolf, his mouth agape.  


His hand rises, trembling.  "Bren!  The fires of calamity are--"


But he is interrupted by harsh shouting from behind him.  Someone is coming through the woods, someone you cannot hear except by his voice which is strong, manly, and full of alarm.  Shalin whirls, his staff low.


"Shaliiiiin!"   A man roars wrathfully as he comes racing through the woods toward you with an expert swiftness unknown to civilized men.  "Call to me!  Mielikki's eyes, Vaprak himself will answer to me if they have felled you!  Shaliiiin!"


Shalin cannot seem to help himself.  He stamps his staff once and the crack of thunder shakes every leaf, shrub, and tree nearby.  This blast also makes the Felane jump in surprise.  


Racing up to Shalin is a large, well-muscled human man who was probably handsome once, but long years of strain and stress have marked his face and grayed his long, wild hair prematurely.  Clad in evergreen studded leather armor with a bloody battle axe in one hand and a redenned hand axe in the other with a fine bow and quiver over his shoulder, he bounds through the forest as effortlessly as a young stag in springtime.  Scars.  There are scars upon his limbs and armor as if battle were a way of life to him.  He seems to be about Bren's father's age.  Not all of the blood on his body seems to belong to his enemies.  


He rushes up to Shalin and Shalin to him and despite his frantic trek, he is no more winded as if he had strolled.  He grins somewhat brokenly yet his face is full of relief when he sees the gray elf whole.  He raises his battle axe in triumph.  "The other Formorian won't be reporting in!  I see a boulder mark upon you.  How fare--"  Then he notes the gray elf's face.  


"What is it?"


Shalin's expression is pained as, once again, he is absolutely unable to give voice the mounting concerns of his heart.  He clenches his teeth and seethes in one rage-filled moment at his inability to utter the softest word of comfort to one who is clearly a friend.  The human man flicks blood from his axes, sheathes them, and then claps Shalin on the shoulder.


Shalin scribes.  "Ranthorn..." 


Ranthorn's glances wide-eyed about the Wayfaring Wanderers.   "What?!  I don't--"


Turning, Shalin raises his staff into the air.  Slowly, he aims it until it is pointing directly at Leonard Wolf of Dalsus.  As the man looks on, he takes two steps forward into the sunlight.  The beams caress his face, illuminating it.  


The resemblance between Wolf and this man is unmistakable.  Looking at the fellow, it is clear to all present of their familial connection...


Like Shalin, the woodsman stares rooted, open-mouthed, and dumbfounded in shock as he beholds what can only be... 


... his son, Wolf.

 

[Kaerri]

But he is interrupted by harsh shouting from behind him.  Someone is coming through the woods, someone you cannot hear except by his voice which is strong, manly, and full of alarm.  Shalin whirls, his staff low.

Bren also whirls, and takes two quick steps to raise his shield between Shalin and whomever's coming.  The newcomer's arrival, words, and Shalin's reaction all proclaiming that this is a friend, Bren stands down and moves aside once more to give them room to meet face-to-face.  Throughout, his own axe has remained on his belt, there not being enough time to draw it, and there it stays while he listens and reads the others' conversation.  Such as it is...

The resemblance between Wolf and this man is unmistakable.  Looking at the fellow, it is clear to all present of their familial connection...


Like Shalin, the woodsman stares rooted, open-mouthed, and dumbfounded in shock as he beholds what can only be... 


... his son, Wolf.

Bren is likewise surprised, for he doesn't remember Wolf telling them his father was in these parts.  Actually, Bren can't remember Wolf telling them anything at all about his father just now, what with this latest shock coming on top of recent events.  After a moment he closes his own mouth and turns his attention partly outward, to keep an eye on the forest (for surely Wolf and this Ranthorn won't be) and partly inward, on the unfolding familial picture.

 

[Sherwood]

Once more, Luna curtsies deep.  "Greetings, M'lord.  I am Luna Callen, and I have the pleasure of being a boon companion of your son.  Wolf, you never told me that your father was in this area.  An added bonus to coming here!"  She smiles at the father of the man whom had captured her heart, hoping for a pleasant visit with him.

 

[Wolf Rawrrr]

Leonard Wolf - The Ranger




  Reveal hidden contents





Wolf stared in disbelief at the man before him.


No, that's not it.


He stood motionless all of a sudden, unable to take his eyes off the eyes of the man before him. The man whom he clearly recognized, despite not being able to recall the last time he'd seen him, or much else about him for that matter. He stood in a state of silent shock, not with his mouth comically agape or eyes gone too wide, but firmly and purposefully. And far too absorbed to understand how could Luna possibly meet this man with such a casual greeting.


Yes, that's more like it.


The ranger Wolf was stuck in the moment, frowning hard and thinking harder. In those precious fleeting seconds he pondered not the best course of action or the right angle of approach, but anything. Anything at all. At length he decided that he couldn't decide.


"I don't know what to say."

 

[Purr]

(Mood Music.  This song by Icehouse helped me write this scene, which was not easy.)







"What in the Nine Hells?"  


Ranthorn's shout echoes across Shandra's Evergreen.  The skin seems stretched across his face despite the obvious strength and vitality in his body.  One look at Wolf and Ranthorn is enough to know they are kin.  Wolf shares some of Ranthorn's facial features, especially his eyes though Wolf's are much stronger in spirit at the moment.  Ranthorn's long hair, black and streaked with the stresses of early gray, waves in the wind as if caressed but he does not seem to feel it.  He looks at Wolf, blinking several times as if trying to clear his head.  He fails.  So he shakes his head and stares in disbelief.  


He turns to Shalin and cries, "What do I do?!"


Shalin scribes, "Speak from your heart!  Tell him all, Ranthorn."


Breathing heavily, Ranthorn clutches his chest, confusion and pain darkens his once-handsome features.  He looks back and forth from Shalin to Wolf.  "I...  what...  What in the world am I supposed to tell you?  Where do I start?  Shalin, he's going to hate me no matter what I say."


You know this not!


"I failed him!  I failed his mother, my dear--"


Try!  For both your sakes!


Ranthorn gasps and shakes, unable to look Wolf in the eye.  Then he shares his tale.


"Look...  not long after I delivered you to Dalsus, something happened.  I...  sent word, but I don't know if Baesil made it back to Dalsus.  We were so far north when it happened.  I wrote everything on a scroll, gave all the coin and gems I'd earned, and sent Baesil home to your mother and you.  We were lost at the time, so... it might have taken him years to get back, but Baesil was an honest friend.  He would have tried."


(OOC note for Wolf)

Spoiler

"Baesil."  The name strikes a hard chord in Wolf's memory.  Long ago, outside of Dalsus, the first corpse Wolf ever saw belonged to a brown-haired, swarthy fellow whom one woman in Dalsus recognized.  She called him "Baesil."  His ambushed and ravaged body was found en route to Dalsus, but he never made it; the Dire Wolf of Dalsus saw to that.  There was no coin, no gems, no scroll upon this hapless victim.  Whatever secrets he carried died with him. 

Ranthorn continues uneasily.  "So, maybe you know this - you have an older brother.  Not from your mother, but from my first wife.  His name is Haydan. Haydan loves the north.  Always talking about the tales of the northern gods and the midnight rainbow lights up there.  I wanted to be, you know, a good dad.  Help him see his dreams.  I took him there."  He sniffs.  "But it all went to hell..."


"When we were together in the Frozen Reaches, our camp was attacked by Frost Giants and their Ice Hounds who were hunting way out of their realm.  One of the towering bastards reared back his foot to kick Haydan.  I pushed him aside, but I got the kick.  I flew.  I hit something really hard.  Probably a glacier.   When I got my senses back, they...  they..."  Ranthorn curls up, his hand covers his eyes.  It takes him a moment to speak again.


"They were dragging Haydan away!  He was....  was screaming!  I never heard him scream before.  I hear it damn near every night!  'Daddy!  Daddy!  They got me, Daddy!'"  Ranthorn drops his axe.  It falls and sinks into the earth, blade-first.  His hands cover his forehead as he relives the past.  "'Don't let 'em take me!'"  He sobs.  "But...  I couldn't move!  I tried to get up!  Again and again, but...  something was broken.  My leg and my back.  I was all messed up.  I couldn't chase them.  They took...  they took Haydan!!"


Ranthorn shakily reaches toward Shalin.  Immediately, the golden-haired elf flows to his side grasping Ranthorn's outstretched hand in both his own.  Ranthorn eyes are glazed with tears, his mighty chest heaving as he sees something only he can see.  "I...  made a....  I swore to Mielikki right then.  'Forest Mother...  I'll do anything, just...  just help me!  Please, you gotta...'  I made a promise to search for him until I free him.  Not to go home, not to return to Highwind, not until I find him and free him."


Ranthorn suffers a glance Wolf's way.  His voice is low and pained.  "Goddess, I can't tell you how blasted sorry I am.  I just...  all these years...  I haven't found him yet.  The Forest Mother is helping me...  but...  Haydan.  I can't..."  Ranthorn sits down and stops speaking, shaking his head non-stop as tears from an eternity of shame fall upon him like the darkest of storms.  


Shalin hesitantly raises his hand.  It takes him a moment, but he scribes magical words into the air.  The golden letters hang there until read.  "Over the years, I have tried to help Ranthorn on his quest but it is one blizzard of a mystery.  We believe Melshaef and her tree might be able to provide us more clues to Haydan's fate."  Shalin glances to Bren as if to include him in his next statement.  "We have learned one very important element - Ranthorn cannot complete his quest alone."


"No," Ranthorn moans.  "A ranger alone can't do it.  Mielikki...  she told me in a dream...  I need a wolf.  She was serious about me finding some wolf.  Me, I'm just a messed-up ranger; I don't have a nose like a canine.  But every wolf I ask for help flees!  They won't even let me come near them like I could before!  It's like...  they don't accept me or... they know my shame or something!  I don't get it!"  


He looks upward.  "Forest Mother, what do I do?!"


Ranthorn continues to sob.  He puts one arm over Shalin's shoulder.  Shalin sadly hugs him and looks to all of you.  

 

[Sherwood]

Luna looks at this scene in front of her with shock.  This was hardly the reunion she was expecting!  By Great Boccob, if she were to walk in the door of her house with Wolf at her side, she would certainly expect a different response than this!  What do I do?  This is obviously a family situation, and I'm hardly that.  I'm just Wolf's companion and dear friend, and perhaps, someday, we will be more than just lovers.  But what now?  With all of my learning, it has not prepared me for this.  She reaches out with a soft touch to Wolf's shoulder, her silent way of letting him know that he is not alone, and she will always be there, ready to ease his pain with her love.

 

[Wolf Rawrrr]

Leonard Wolf - The Ranger

Spoiler

Shape: Human ||| 1st lvl spell: Delay Poison | 1st lvl spell: Entangle | 2nd lvl spell: Wind Wall

The ranger stood stupefied, his few readied thoughts scattered over the sudden spill from Ranthorn. He was so absorbed that he failed to perceive anything else in the world for those few moments. So stunned that he barely felt Luna's touch at the end. He stared at the man that seemed to, or rather was, his father, but not with an expression of neutral surprise anymore. Slowly, what he felt inside was starting to show on his face. Realization. Anger. Sorrow. Each peaking sharp as Ranthorn's telling continued, they all settled down into more or less Wolf's default appearance when faced with a crisis of a situation. There was a little bit of confusion there too, which might explain the first couple words that came out of his mouth.


"I'm a wolf." he said with childlike realization, then frowned at himself, looked aside, and then focused back on Ranthorn. "No, I mean... This is a lot. So lot in fact, that it makes me want to ask what and how and why even after everything I've just heard. But I already know, and... What I mean is, I don't think I know what to say. Still. But..." he sighed, looking down in a moment of brief contemplation before looking into Ranthorn's eyes again, "I think I know what I want to do."


Wolf walked over to where Ranthorn and Shalin stood, and with but a whisper of a smile in the corner of his lips, offered a get-up hand to the broken man who was his father.

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Otiorin Taletreader

Spoiler

HP: 56


Spells per day(1st:2nd)/remaining(1st:2nd): 4:3


Spells available: Daze, Detect Magic, Ghost Sounds, Open/Close, Ray of Frost, Read Magic, Gravity Bow, Shield, Summon Monster 1, Mage Armor, Ice Slick


Active effects: Mage Armor, Shield

Otiorin stood back from the ongoing scene between the father, the son, the lover and the sage Grey Elf. His input would not be of value here. Instead, he roved around the periphery, searching the forest margins for danger at first but, seeing only Wild Elves scouting cautiously, returned to the corpses of the fell creatures Shalin Riversbane had slain in single combat.


Then he felt it.


The quiver in his limbs, the itch in his fingertips, the dryness of his lips, the curiosity in his mind.


The others are busy, he thought to himself, the whimsical musings of a Half-Elf won't be needed. Better I put myself to use elsewhere and be helpful is quieter ways. They'd appreciate my efforts while they concentrate on supporting Wolf.


So, his mind fully justifying his actions, he fell upon the fallen giant and ogres and started searching them for anything of value or interest.

 

[Kaerri]

Bren Sarabina

Spoiler

Standard AC: 27


Fort save: +12


Ref save: +8


Will save: +4


Current action points: 9


Current HP: 87/87


Status effects: none


Powerpaw's tower shield +1


(-2 to attack rolls)


Spell: Speak with Animals


Speech color, for reference

Bren listened to Ranthorn's tale in shock and growing sorrow.  Any friend of Shalin's was a friend of his, but Wolf was his friend too, and this story couldn't have been any more pleasant for Wolf to hear than for Ranthorn to tell.  He looked to Wolf to see how he felt and what he wanted, if he even knew what he wanted yet with this coming so suddenly upon him.  Bren smiled, seeing his fellow Wanderer come to a decision, and nodded to himself.  This was properly Wolf and Ranthorn's moment, not for another to intrude (unless by invitation of course, spoken or otherwise, as Ranthorn had called Shalin to his side).  He didn't back away, since they didn't seem to mind him where he was, but he didn't approach either.  He turned away slightly to continue his observations of the surrounding forest, and caught sight of Otiorin's quiet activity.  Bren's smile widened, but he chose not to say anything for the moment, preferring instead to let Wolf and his father work out their new relationship and what it meant for their plans.  It hadn't missed him that Ranthorn had been told to have a wolf at his side, and here was his other son, not only Wolf by name but able to turn into one, now.  Bren wondered whether that meant Wolf would feel he needed to leave the Wanderers and join in his father's quest.  If so, he'd miss the other ranger, even on such a short acquaintance as they'd had, but he knew the sudden appearance of family could cause anyone to change their plans.  His mind drifting, he wondered what happened to Luna's brother's ghost, and if it had been able to follow them in all their random and hopscotching travels today.

 

[Purr]

(Location, time, and weather.)

Spoiler

Location: Off the Road of Kings, somewhere in Southern Shandra's Evergreen (9 days south of Highwind)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Sunday, September 21st, 1118. Time: 11:10 a.m.


Weather: The air in this forest is filled with a slowly-receding electric charge, though things beyond seem sunny and calm.

Powerpaw stands atop the pile of downed ogres and raises one of their large-sized greatswords above his head.  He begins twirling it about in a manic display of catty silliness.  "Avasts, me hearty-faces!  Lissen to da wizended words of yer ship-face, Pirate Powerpaw!  MOOOOOAR!"  With a sweep of his paw, he points at everyone.  "Blimeys!!  Here thar be booty, enuffs fer all!  What sez you, Captain Bren-face?  We kin strip da dead of dere ill-gotten goodies an' haul it backs to our ship, da S.S. Adventurerz Wagonz?  ARRR, I sez!  ARRRR!"


Sabrefang puts her paws on her hips and stares.  "Son, why are you talking like a pirate?"


"I dunno.  Felt like da right ting ta do at da moment...  Moar?"


(GM note for players)

Spoiler

As Sherwood has pointed out elsewhere, Happy "Talk Like A Pirate" Day!  Okies, it was the 19th and I'm posting this on the 20th, but to whomever has a problem with that, well, I'll keel-haul the ill-begotten son-of-a-  Er...  Back to the game now!  Hah!  =)


Otiorin finds the following treasure upon the corpse of the Formorian Giant:


A thick, huge leather bag (about the size of, well, Otiorin) filled with a mixture of gold, silver, and copper coins (533 g.p., 124 s.p., and 64 c.p.).  Within this jingling, stinky mass are three stoppered potions in dirty vials, a tarnished shortsword in a rotting once-white sheath, an ill-treated ornate bronze ring topped by a shining ruby, a battered gray scroll-case plugged up on both ends by thick wax seals, and two thin hardwood wands tied together by a silver string. 


A second huge-sized bag on the Formorian's hip contains three small barrels of something that sloshes and half a half-eaten bear.  I'll leave it to your imagination to guess which half...  As your Dungeon Master, allow me to say that this particular bag may not be worth your while to further investigate...  but do as you desire!  =)

 

[Purr]

So deeply is Ranthorn buried in his sadness that it takes Shalin to indicate Wolf's offer to help to Ranthorn for the wounded ranger to notice it.  Shalin pats Ranthorn's shoulder and points several times indicating with his hands what he cannot with his voice.  Finally, Ranthorn perceives his friend's motions and looks up.


When he sees Wolf, he cannot at first face him.  His face is wet with sudden and unbidden tears and confusion as he chokes and sobs on his own grief and self-loathing.


Shalin scribes again.  Bright golden words come to life in intricate handwriting.  It is handwriting Ranthorn is quick to search for and see.  It is as if Shalin's words are the only thing keeping Ranthorn's state from becoming worse than what he is.


Shalin's words are aimed toward Leonard.  Ranthorn has to turn toward Wolf in order to read them.  Your lad says he is a wolf.


Ranthorn, upon reading these carefully-scribed words, takes on a different look.  Shalin's thought has added something to the man that was not there a moment ago - wonder.   At first, when he sees Wolf, he grits his teeth as if readying himself for blows he seems to think he deserves.  But again, there is Shalin's hand, pointing.  Ranthorn follows Shalin's hand and by doing so, he sees Wolf's own.  Clearing his blurry eyes from their tears, he still holds onto Shalin, but he looks to Wolf's hand.  


In confusion, he looks back to Shalin.  The gray elf nods reassuringly and Ranthorn seems to reach inside of him down into to the battered depths of his own mortal soul.  He takes a deep breath.  Shakily, he reaches up and takes Wolf's hand.  His grip is firm, his hand is scarred.  When he fell, he was nearly alone.  But now, as he rises, it is with the help of his friend and his son.  It is a moment that seems to shake Ranthorn to the very core of his being.


Without letting go of his son's hand, Ranthorn looks into Leonard's eyes.  His voice croaks.  "I...  I'm all messed up.  I don't understand what's going on."


Focus on his words, signs Shalin.


Ranthorn looks on uncertainly.  "What...  do you mean, you're a wolf?  What is it you...  mean to say or do?"  And then suddenly, there is a moment of sudden impatience with himself when he asks, "And gods above, what name do you go by? "


A short distance away, upon Luna's shoulder, Sparkle narrows her eyes and with a silent sigh, the pseudo-dragon blends away into nigh-nothingness.  Only Luna can tell that the dragoness has turned her head away from the conversation, though Luna knows without asking that Sparkle does not expect any such action from Luna.  Luna knows from experience that Sparkle does this when she has sensed something she is not entirely comfortable with.  


Pyri, she sends into Luna's mind alone with a soft, uneasy tone.  Do you see what appears to be taking place here?  What do your eyes and ears tell you?

 

[Wolf Rawrrr]

Leonard Wolf - The Ranger

Spoiler

Shape: Wolf ||| 1st lvl spell: Delay Poison | 1st lvl spell: Entangle | 2nd lvl spell: Wind Wall

"Well, Wolf, actually..." Wolf replied, chuckling involuntarily. "My chosen name. Not the given one, of course. Wait, you don't know my name? Leonard? I thought you'd picked it...?"


The ranger sighed, dismissing the question. "Anyway, I'm Wolf. And I'm a wolf. Like so." he said with all the nonchalant grace that he could muster, before shape-shifting into his alternative form...

Spoiler

 

[Purr]

"Well, Wolf, actually..." Wolf replied, chuckling involuntarily. "My chosen name. Not the given one, of course. Wait, you don't know my name? Leonard? I thought you'd picked it...?"

Prior to Leonard's transformation, Ranthorn listened to Wolf's questions and to them, he had a reply.  "I did pick your name.  Use your ears, lad," he said to his son without harshness or any sense of reprimand.  "I asked, 'What name do you go by,' not 'What were you named at birth..."  Still laden with the shock of the his son's sudden arrival into his life, Ranthorn was trying to pull himself together.  He reached for his battle axe, a beautifully-curved double-edged monster of a weapon that had looked as if it, too, had seen many a battle.  He lifted it and turned to Wolf.  


"But you kept it?  The name Leonard?  Knowing that I gave it to you and the teasing that name sometimes brings?"  Ranthorn scratched his head and grinned.  It was a handsome and savage-looking expression.  "Your grandfather would have approved..."

The ranger sighed, dismissing the question. "Anyway, I'm Wolf. And I'm a wolf. Like so." he said with all the nonchalant grace that he could muster, before shape-shifting into his alternative form...

When Wolf leaves his human form and enters his canine form, the world all around the young ranger changes dramatically.  Wolf's color-vision dulls somewhat, but his sensitivity to sound and especially to smell become magnified to awesome levels well beyond what his human body knows.  When he looks up to his father, he sees the older ranger stagger as if struck.  Once again, he stares at Wolf, struck dumb by his son's ability to shapeshift.  He stood there gawking ape-like and looking quite comical, for not often is a man of his obvious experience and presence mentally flattened, and now is such a time.  


Shalin, still beside Ranthorn, sees his expression and cannot help but smile.  His is a heartfelt, easy smile.  But he is not the only one whose spirits have turned joyous...


From the shadows of the Shandra's Evergreen, all of you hear a burst of chuckles and whispers as if the leaves and the bushes found jolly amusement in the spectacle before them.  Of course, it is the Grugach, cunningly hidden as well as (or better than) any hunting beast of the forest.  It takes but one sharp growl from within the cloak of the greenery for the Wild Elves to return to well-behaved silence.  At least for the moment...


Since Ranthorn is unable to think, much less respond, Shalin takes it upon himself to ask a question he believes Ranthorn might want the answer to.  He scribes, "Corellon's Light!  There are more shocks this hour than those brought by a lightning storm!  Leonard-both-Man-and-Wolf, have you the gift of sending like my dear canine, Vardadraug?"

 

[Wolf Rawrrr]

Leonard Wolf - The Ranger

Spoiler

Shape: Wolf ||| 1st lvl spell: Delay Poison | 1st lvl spell: Entangle | 2nd lvl spell: Wind Wall

"I do indeed." Wolf replied to Shalin. Then he looked up at Ranthorn, head tilted, and told (or sent) him: "The name you chose is good, but I think the other one befits me more." 

 

[Kaerri]

Bren Sarabina

Spoiler

Standard AC: 27


Fort save: +12


Ref save: +8


Will save: +4


Current action points: 9


Current HP: 87/87


Status effects: none


Powerpaw's tower shield +1


(-2 to attack rolls)


Spell: Speak with Animals


Speech color, for reference

Bren smiled.  It was still a wonder to see Wolf change shape into, well, a wolf.  He remembered his own brief experience with shape-changing (a spell from a wand, in his case, wielded by a friend he was helping out); it had been very interesting!  Ranthorn's gawping then caught his eye, and Bren had to raise a hand to his mouth to hide his grin.  One couldn't blame the poor man!  First he met his son, completely unexpectedly (and after many years of absence, apparently).  Then that son turned into a wolf, possibly the very wolf Mielikki had told him to seek out.  Bren glanced at Shalin and nodded in recognition of their shared feelings at this moment; echoed, it would seem, by the grugach, still in the woods around them.  His grin widened at the "scolding" the wild elves received for their merriment, but really, one couldn't blame them, either.  And he was glad they had some joy still, even with all that had happened to them.

 

[Purr]

"I do indeed." Wolf replied to Shalin. Then he looked up at Ranthorn, head tilted, and told (or sent) him: "The name you chose is good, but I think the other one befits me more." 

Ranthorn took the telepathic communication in as easily as if the words were spoken into his ears.  He looked into his son's canine eyes.  "You are own man whatever you choose to call yourself."  Then, Ranthorn paused, immersed deeply in the wild galloping inside his troubled mind.  The creases in his eyes returned and he sighed.  Finally, he just sat down.  Right there in the forest as if there was no one about at all.  Like a man long-used to being alone.


The Silent Sorcerer again stepped to Ranthorn's side, his time placing his hand on the larger man's shoulder, proving in one instant that Ranthorn was far from alone.  Shalin grinned to Ranthorn in a display of real love between friends.


Ranthorn gave a small grin.  "Aye.  You are right.  I just..." he took his waterskin, unplugged it, and drank deeply.  "This is all so much for one man to bear."


Shalin nodded.  He looked back to Bren and returned his dearest friend's expression with recognition and another look, this one of wonder.  Shalin seemed to be wondering what life was going to throw next.  He held his injured chest again.  


Mamapaw watched all this from afar with arms crossed.  Bren had introduced them, but... the timing of things felt wrong.  She wanted to approach, to cast a Cure spell upon the wounded magister, but she was from Shamballah, not Shandra's Evergreen.  There were no elves in the temples Mamapaw knew.  It seemed best to wait until someone closer to this Shalin created a social opening of sorts.  Then, she would offer, and if accepted, heal in Bast and Mielikki's name.


Meanwhile, Sparkle quietly watched Powerpaw as the furry feline respectfully placed the large-sized greatsword he held down.  He looked about the field for other items of interest, but especially to Otiorin.  For if the one Rogue in the Wayfaring Wanderers could not locate good treasure, who could?