Silvanost - Enter the Council
22 Gildember 348 AC
Ra’ziir delves deeper into his studies.
He looks for any additional information on Death Maw and the Solamnic Knights. Information about the dragon is limited mostly to the tome he already found but there are several apocryphal references in a handful of reports dating back to the last war. On the subject of the Solamnic Knights, he finds dozens upon dozens of books about them. He quickly learns that they are a brotherhood of noble warriors sworn to an Oath, "Est Sularus oth Mithas" - translated as "My Honor is My Life" and are bound by a code of behavior known as the Measure which consists of thirty-seven three-hundred page tomes. There are many who blame the Knights for the Cataclysm as one of their number, Lord Soth, had a chance to avert the Cataclysm but turned from his quest for selfish reasons.
Shadow takes Cassidy to find something to eat and passes the time telling him about his Drow upbringing and his people's extensive use of poison, explaining the types, sources, safe application and use. “We seek every advantage in combat and we learn what we can from our research. My companions will be reading through tomes and I will join them later when our afternoon training is over. These dragonmen may be a new menace or something once known. We will have to be careful till we know more. So what do you want to eat?”
The Kender thinks for a second, "What about a chicken pie? With butter biscuits? My Aunt Petunia used to make the best meat pies. There was this one she made with duck and rice and carrots and potatoes with gravy, parsley, and garlic! It was so good. And then there was one with sausage, bacon, and ham with cheese and fried onion. And there was also one that..." Cassidy keeps talking as Shadow spurs him forward in search of a baker.
Grotto ventures out of town to collect some medicinal herbs he learned about from the town's healers. He claps his hands, rubbing them together to brush the dirt off. "These elves might have groomed their forest into submission but at least they left some quality plants." He looks around, "Pine needles for tea-making, spruce tips for salad and syrup, some juniper berries for flavor..." He looks around for a minute. "Those look like birch trees over there. I bet I can find some chaga over there." He tromps over and finds some blackened knobs that look like burnt wood. A smile splits his scarred face. "Ah, yes. Good for the heart, pain relief, and bringing down swelling!" Grotto spends a few hours harvesting choice plants, nibbling on some of his finds and humming to himself as he works.
After harvesting, he returns to Lorraine's and gathers all interested healers and shows them how to extract the essence of the herbs to make the more potent versions through distillation, fermentation, and powdering. Some of the healers nod and take notes, while others, already versed in some of these processes wait for the dwarf to tell them something they don't already know. Lorraine pulls up a stool, adding details or clarifying points when confusion is evident amongst her followers. Once the lesson is concluded, she dismisses Grotto's students before reaching into a pocket and producing a silver flask and giving it a little shake, "Thirsty?"
Kysek spends his day times in thoughtful meditation as Bubo rests. The gold elf deliberates on what he knows first hand of the creatures we fought. He thinks about why the lessers would turn to stone when slain and why the apparent leader would or even could explode in such a way. He wonders if they should have collected the dust the ones turned to stone left behind when they collapsed.
When evening settles in; the elf sends Bubo to hunt and instructs him to help the guards keep an eye on the city. He tells his raptorial companion, “Hunt my friend. Eat well, but be ever vigilant. Your eyes are keener than that of the city guard and you’re probably smarter than three-quarters of them. Alert me immediately of anything amiss.”
The elf's musings on the topic of these draconian creatures him to the theory, based on both appearance and death effects, that they must be descended from different ancestors, possibly mutated through alchemy to select for or even imbue the traits displayed.
“So Agnes, as we walk back to join the others, would you mind telling me more about this Cataclysm? How do the commoners feel about their gods or lack thereof? Do they miss them, fear them, resent them? I wonder how they might react if prayers started to be answered and miracles started occurring?” Cedron asks they stroll. “It has been my experience that the gods are a reflection of their worshipers.”
Agnes shakes head, "All three I suppose. Or, more accurately, each of the three depending on their circumstances in the moment. As for the Cataclysm, I don’t know what else I can tell you. The Kingpriest demanded that the gods destroy all evil and he was struck down for his hubris. The entire continent's geography was reshaped when the flaming mountain hit and gods left, abandoning their people when they were most needed."
Arthur offers her his arm as they walk, which she accepts, placing a hand upon his forearm, and listens to her words.
Romulus rides into the forest on his Ice Cat. He
Raven, after gaining a better understanding of his ability to summon or create food, will begin refreshing his archery skills. He sets up multiple targets, hanging some on ropes tied to tree braches so they will swing and dance in the wind. He makes sure to include smaller targets to simulate greater distances, sets up obstacles that provide cover for those targets and the like. Once his targets are set up, he strings Luican's Bow and begins shooting in different positions and from varying angles and even while running. It reminds him of his nearly three decades spent with the Riders of Mistledale. He even borrows a pony from Lorraine so he can practice firing from horseback.
26 Gildember 348 AC
Four days have passed since the party returned from their mission to Balifor Bay. Ornforithalas paces the floor at Lorraine's House, anxious about the upcoming meeting. A page arrives, summoning the adventurers to their audience.
As promised, the Council is prepared to convene and awaits the adventurers at their Hall. The building is fashioned of white marble and gleaming crystal, stretching some sixty feet into the air with numerous balconies looking out over the city. The party is led inside, their footsteps falling silently in the passageway, the sound muffled by luxurious carpet and assorted tapestries. The Council Chamber is large, with a domed ceiling rising twenty feet above the floor and a low dais where five chairs are arranged behind a carved wooden table.
Moments later, the Council members file into the domed chamber and take seats atop the raised dais.
The elf at the front of their procession has dark hair. He wears a flowing red cape and thick leather bracers embossed with arcane sigils. A pair of wands are barely visible tucked inside of each band.
They are followed by a woman in hunting leathers with a longbow riding in a quiver of arrows hanging at her hip. He brown hair is pulled back, revealing a face with several faded scars.
Behind her is a strapping youth with broad shoulders and thick muscles. Small burns pock his hands and he wears a leather apron.
The end of the line is brought up by a much older male. He clearly shows his age with white hair and leans on a cane as he walks. His gaze, however, is steely, taking in every detail of his surroundings while projecting quiet authority as he takes the center chair.
A short, blond elf girl with a thick braid of hair and striking blue eyes walks beside him, her arm extended to aid in the elder's balance. She wears a blue vest over a light blue shirt that gives the impression of a uniform. A cutlass rides on her left hip.
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