Chapter 1: Into the Mists
The sun rises on the Sword Coast much like any other day -- slow and steady, yet with a bright blaze that brought life to this side of Faerun. True to its name, the month of Kythorn (also referred to as "The Time of Flowers") saw this morning the blooming of many flowers along the sides of the roads, having drunk deeply of the rains from the past tenday or so. The morning stirs into life, as our adventurers begin to rouse themselves from their dreams and slumber of the night before...
Davavor:
The morning has a slow start for Davavor -- like most mornings that he's spent in Daggerford, which never seemed to be fast no matter what time of day. The River Shining Tavern is relatively lively compared to the others in town, though the gentle flowing of the ford that gave Daggerford its name could lull him back to sleep at any moment. It was a daze, even with the dew in the morning air, the sleepy keep giving him little respite in his thirst for adventure.
Still he needed work, and while the river couldn't compare to the high open seas its humble port still offered the work he needed to put bread (or his choice staple) on the table. His fellow dock workers were tolerable, though clearly not the boisterous folks he had spent many years with -- mostly people who preferred or at the very least settled for spending their days in sleepy Daggerford, not looking for anything more than a humble life.
At least it was the first day of the tenday -- when people most often chose to travel, whether by land or by water. That meant rumors, and news, and opportunities for something more than he had found himself with these days.
Wilian:
The travel on the road was a bit tiring for Wilian -- though he had traveled with these scholars in the past, exploring all sorts of abandoned locations and ruins -- recently it had just been a string of commutes from city to city, up and down the Sword Coast as the more senior members of the group dealt with boring administrative business. Late last night the group rolled into Daggerford, after spending the day in Waterdeep in a series of seminars and meetings to argue for their license to excavate in a ruin far to the north. There was as much progress as expected in that regard, which was barely better than nothing. In the meantime they wouldn't dare waste coin on that sprawling city, instead finding a more humbler accommodation for the days it would take to get approved. For some reason they insisted on the Happy Cow Tavern, possibly just because the name amused some in the group.
"Wilian my boy, are you up yet?" There's a loud knock at the door of Wilian's tavern room, the voice gruff and wizened. Wilian would recognize it as belonging to Charles Oceanore, a retired professor of the arcane sciences spending his later years as an archaeologist of sorts. Despite being the oldest of the small scholar group Wilian had found himself with once more, he had a peppy energy to him, one that'd be expected of someone decades his junior. "No slacking today, we've got a busy morning. Come on down for breakfast when you're ready, the coffee is actually passable for once!" A hearty laugh and a few heavy footfalls later, and he's left to his own devices to get ready.
Shae:
The Lady Luck Tavern wasn't exactly the nicest tavern in Daggerford, nor the liveliest, but it was the one that asked the least questions. And when Shae wandered into Daggerford a few days ago looking for work, the fewer questions asked of her the better. She had enough from the caravan she had hitchhiked with for most the way here, when that merchant transporting prints northwards to Waterkeep had wondered why all of his books had been mysteriously opened -- and in some cases, even commented on. Corax was too curious for his own good, try as Shae might to keep him toned down when it mattered most.
"Finally up, squirt?" A snort is the first thing that Shae hears when she comes to consciousness in her tavern room -- well, "heard" through her mind's voice. The room felt as empty as it did when she had gone to bed, but looking at the smudged mirror to the side of the room she could see that it wasn't the case -- behind her a small part of her shadow twitched, almost in a sort of wave. "Having ta walk the last few miles was a bit unfortunate but now that you're well rested shouldn't be a problem, eh?" Corax usually stuck to the background, but in the moments when he had nothing to observe and distract him he was always ridiculously talkative, and Shae had learned to deal with this one way or the other.
Though this whole "relationship" of theirs still took some getting used to, Daggerford was possibly a good start to earning some coin. It was a small place, not too much attention, not too much scrutiny -- and towns on the outskirts of "grander" society like this, there was always work to be done, baddies to deal with, knowledge to seek! Right? Right.
Aelar:
Outside of the tall walls of Daggerford, along the river, Aelar is treated to the full beauty of the sunrise as he awakes in a wagon or perhaps even on the grass if he opted to sleep beneath the stars. This was going into his second tenday with the nomads he had hitched a ride with, the strange travelers who referred to themselves as the Zarovan clan of the Vistani. He had never seen their exotic clothing before, nor drank of their wine or sang of their songs, but one thing was clear: they had a way with nature and with the world, and their wagon line was comforting to Aelar, almost like a second home.
Out of the dozen or so men and women that he was traveling along with, a couple men were already hard at work feeding the horses, fetching water, or otherwise preparing the wagon camp for the day ahead. Aelar would have heard vague plans to stay around or near Daggerford for a day or two, but for what reason he wasn't quite sure. The elder, a wizened woman named Vadoma, always had a sense of mystery about her, never quite saying anything directly when it came to directions, or guidance, or readings as she often did for travelers who passed by in exchange for some coin.
This morning, Vadoma was sitting on a crate overlooking the horizon -- not in the direction of the sunrise, but opposite it, somewhere off to the north. It was the first time Aelar would have seen her up this early, and she seemed to be observing something that wasn't quite there.
The sun rises on the Sword Coast much like any other day -- slow and steady, yet with a bright blaze that brought life to this side of Faerun. True to its name, the month of Kythorn (also referred to as "The Time of Flowers") saw this morning the blooming of many flowers along the sides of the roads, having drunk deeply of the rains from the past tenday or so. The morning stirs into life, as our adventurers begin to rouse themselves from their dreams and slumber of the night before...
Davavor:
The morning has a slow start for Davavor -- like most mornings that he's spent in Daggerford, which never seemed to be fast no matter what time of day. The River Shining Tavern is relatively lively compared to the others in town, though the gentle flowing of the ford that gave Daggerford its name could lull him back to sleep at any moment. It was a daze, even with the dew in the morning air, the sleepy keep giving him little respite in his thirst for adventure.
Still he needed work, and while the river couldn't compare to the high open seas its humble port still offered the work he needed to put bread (or his choice staple) on the table. His fellow dock workers were tolerable, though clearly not the boisterous folks he had spent many years with -- mostly people who preferred or at the very least settled for spending their days in sleepy Daggerford, not looking for anything more than a humble life.
At least it was the first day of the tenday -- when people most often chose to travel, whether by land or by water. That meant rumors, and news, and opportunities for something more than he had found himself with these days.
Wilian:
The travel on the road was a bit tiring for Wilian -- though he had traveled with these scholars in the past, exploring all sorts of abandoned locations and ruins -- recently it had just been a string of commutes from city to city, up and down the Sword Coast as the more senior members of the group dealt with boring administrative business. Late last night the group rolled into Daggerford, after spending the day in Waterdeep in a series of seminars and meetings to argue for their license to excavate in a ruin far to the north. There was as much progress as expected in that regard, which was barely better than nothing. In the meantime they wouldn't dare waste coin on that sprawling city, instead finding a more humbler accommodation for the days it would take to get approved. For some reason they insisted on the Happy Cow Tavern, possibly just because the name amused some in the group.
"Wilian my boy, are you up yet?" There's a loud knock at the door of Wilian's tavern room, the voice gruff and wizened. Wilian would recognize it as belonging to Charles Oceanore, a retired professor of the arcane sciences spending his later years as an archaeologist of sorts. Despite being the oldest of the small scholar group Wilian had found himself with once more, he had a peppy energy to him, one that'd be expected of someone decades his junior. "No slacking today, we've got a busy morning. Come on down for breakfast when you're ready, the coffee is actually passable for once!" A hearty laugh and a few heavy footfalls later, and he's left to his own devices to get ready.
Shae:
The Lady Luck Tavern wasn't exactly the nicest tavern in Daggerford, nor the liveliest, but it was the one that asked the least questions. And when Shae wandered into Daggerford a few days ago looking for work, the fewer questions asked of her the better. She had enough from the caravan she had hitchhiked with for most the way here, when that merchant transporting prints northwards to Waterkeep had wondered why all of his books had been mysteriously opened -- and in some cases, even commented on. Corax was too curious for his own good, try as Shae might to keep him toned down when it mattered most.
"Finally up, squirt?" A snort is the first thing that Shae hears when she comes to consciousness in her tavern room -- well, "heard" through her mind's voice. The room felt as empty as it did when she had gone to bed, but looking at the smudged mirror to the side of the room she could see that it wasn't the case -- behind her a small part of her shadow twitched, almost in a sort of wave. "Having ta walk the last few miles was a bit unfortunate but now that you're well rested shouldn't be a problem, eh?" Corax usually stuck to the background, but in the moments when he had nothing to observe and distract him he was always ridiculously talkative, and Shae had learned to deal with this one way or the other.
Though this whole "relationship" of theirs still took some getting used to, Daggerford was possibly a good start to earning some coin. It was a small place, not too much attention, not too much scrutiny -- and towns on the outskirts of "grander" society like this, there was always work to be done, baddies to deal with, knowledge to seek! Right? Right.
Aelar:
Outside of the tall walls of Daggerford, along the river, Aelar is treated to the full beauty of the sunrise as he awakes in a wagon or perhaps even on the grass if he opted to sleep beneath the stars. This was going into his second tenday with the nomads he had hitched a ride with, the strange travelers who referred to themselves as the Zarovan clan of the Vistani. He had never seen their exotic clothing before, nor drank of their wine or sang of their songs, but one thing was clear: they had a way with nature and with the world, and their wagon line was comforting to Aelar, almost like a second home.
Out of the dozen or so men and women that he was traveling along with, a couple men were already hard at work feeding the horses, fetching water, or otherwise preparing the wagon camp for the day ahead. Aelar would have heard vague plans to stay around or near Daggerford for a day or two, but for what reason he wasn't quite sure. The elder, a wizened woman named Vadoma, always had a sense of mystery about her, never quite saying anything directly when it came to directions, or guidance, or readings as she often did for travelers who passed by in exchange for some coin.
This morning, Vadoma was sitting on a crate overlooking the horizon -- not in the direction of the sunrise, but opposite it, somewhere off to the north. It was the first time Aelar would have seen her up this early, and she seemed to be observing something that wasn't quite there.
Last edited: