Silvanost - Five of Seven
09-14 Newkolt 349 AC
AT SUMMERWALKER'S WAREHOUSE
Grotto looks up from his cookbook and says to Shadow, "Your little Kender friend would have loved these dishes. This book seems to be written towards a halfling's pallet. If you are still hungry, I think I have the ingredients here and there to make this dish." Grotto says swinging the book around and pointing to a simple yet filling recipe. Grotto then walks a quick round of the hospital checking the wounded as he gathers various herbs he had his students obtain. He comes back to the corner where he has set up the makeshift bedroom where he and Shadow were reading. Grotto pulls out his alchemy lab to use as a impromptu kitchen. He makes him and Shadow a nice but filling vegetarian vegetable stew. As he is cooking he says to Shadow, "Maybe with your magic, we can communicate with that disembodied voice from the war god's temple? Maybe find clues there? We will see what Lorraine thinks. Also, some in the council looked a bit older. Perhaps they know something? No way they can deny us twice!" Grotto finished his vegetable stew, cleans his lab gear, and leaves Shadow to study his book. Grotto lights a bowl in his pipe and also continues his reading, only looking up when Shadow speaks to him. After a while, he drifts off to sleep till morning to find clues about the Dragonlance.
Shadow discusses with Grotto options for using magic to try to find out more about the Dragonlances and the tomb that he found as well. He decides to try to finish reading the Huma book for more clues before going to see Lorraine that day with Grotto to see if they can get a map to the area where Huma was buried.
Later that day, the dwarf and the drow go looking for Lorraine. They find her wrapped in a blanket in front of her fireplace and ask her about Huma.
"I not THAT old," she replies, "I heard stories, we all did, of a Solamnic Knight who drove Takhisis back into the Abyss. I'm not sure where he was buried though... something about a cliff, maybe? And guarded by dragons? I don't know. Those stories were old when I was a little girl and that was three and one-half centuries ago."
The two adventurers continue to press with their questions and the elder eventually tells them that Cuinar Elar, retired Council Chairman, may... may, be able to help them.
It takes a few hours for Shadow and Grotto to locate Elar's house, make their way across town to it, gain access to what looks like it should be a heavily guarded estate, and make their way inside.
They find the former Councilor, the proud elf who defiantly denied Captain Ornforithalas' warnings of dragonmen, the prideful advisor to the King who claimed that there was "No War in Silvanesti", the haughty elder who quashed political opposition and contrary testimony in the name of political expediency seated in his study, an open bottle of wine sitting beside several empties. The ancient elf looks up, his face withered, his eyes red-rimmed, and vacant. "What do you want? I have sent my guards to reinforce the army, I have emptied my larders, my pantries, to provide for those who lost their homes, their businesses, I have released my staff from their service so they may assist in the city's defense. What more would you ask of me?"
Grotto replies, "I see you are drinking your guilt away. Your poor leadership cost many lives. Sober up and redeem your tarnished image. Tell us of Huma sites and the dragonlance and all you know of it, then go back to your misery you earned." Grotto says harshly. "Otherwise, you are of no use once again!" Grotto scolds.
Shadow walks over takes a sniff at one of the wine bottles before spinning a chair around backwards and sitting in it. He leans into earshot of the disgraced counselor and says “You have one chance of possibly shining your image up from this debacle by helping us find the Lances and giving us today the same chance that Huma had his day. Help us save the remaining Elves in the City.”
Cuinar looks up from his desk at the two adventurers. "Would that I could. Huma was a myth. No elf, no dwarf, and certainly no man could cause injury to a goddess. I don't care what 'legendary weapon' he was armed with. I have never heard anything to make me believe that he ever existed. The wizard, Magus, would have been the only person present who could have disrupted the Dark Queen's portal for entering our world but the," the ancient elf's face twists into a sneer, "Knights of Solamnia couldn't accept that a wizard, a Brother of High Sorcery, saved us from annihilation and concocted this 'Huma' legend to bury the truth and preserve their own prejudices."
AT THE GRIFFON AERIE
Kysek focuses his attention to Dusk. The Knight of the Barrie Grange says softly; yet firmly, “Trust is never given freely, it’s always earned somehow.” The mage then removes his weapons (even the dagger concealed in his boot) and places them outside of Dusk’s stall. As he does this; he says calmly, “I’ll start.” Willing his enchanted clothes to something more suited for a stable boy. “I’ll be right back.” He then goes and grabs a pitchfork. Kysek then begins mucking Dusk’s stall and adding fresh hay. As he works, he reassures her. “I know horse meat is your favorite. I may be hard pressed to find that here; however, how about some of the finest beef I can find for breakfast tomorrow?”, Kysek asks Dusk as he continues to muck her stall. “We all have to start somewhere to begin trusting each other. I figure it’s best to show you that I’ll do what many won’t as they feel it’s beneath them. Hopefully; I can clean it to your liking. I think it’s looking pretty good in here. What do you think?” he asks the majestic griffon.
“Now Redclaw, I know this may not be a plump horse or eight-point buck, but I have some snacks for you…” The Bladesinger shows the bucket to the beast and then tosses a chunk of meat towards the griffon’s beak, “Here you go! Good boy! Here’s another bite!” As he tosses another piece of gore from the bucket.
He continues the process. “So, I know you don’t know me, and you’re probably not interested in fighting with a strange pasty-looking, white-haired elf in black robes… but it would really help in protecting the people here that have been looking out for you since… you lost your partner.”
Seeing that he has emptied the bucket, Ra’ziir takes up the large brush hanging on a wall nearby. He patiently coaxes Redclaw into a position to best reach the beast and makes a few passes with the brush.
“See, I’m not so bad. Redclaw, my name is Ra’ziir Azagoth. I come from a far away place called Evereska…” He continues brushing Redclaw while telling the griffons many of the details of his life, trying to convince the griffons many that he can be trusted.
The griffon listens, occasionally making a whicker when Ra’ziir's tale leads to the more aggressive feats in the bladesinger's history.
“And now, my friends and I are here, trying to help defend this city and defeat the Dragon Queen and her armies… it would be my honor to train with you, if you’re up to it, so we can take down that #$&%@ you fought last…”
Ra’ziir looks into the beast’s eyes, “Change is hard, I know my friend, but let me help you have your revenge and the world will have a new understanding of the name ‘Redclaw’.”
Redclaw perks up at the mention of vengeance, his brow furrowing and his beak opening in the approximation of a fierce grin. The beast leans in close, arching its neck against the brush as Ra'ziir grooms his tawny fur. A sound not unlike a purr sounds from somewhere deep inside of its chest as he relaxes against Ra’ziir's black robes.
As both elves work to win over the prospective mounts, Wing Sergeant Silvervale looks on, nodding silently.
Days pass and persistence pays off. While neither Griffon has allowed Kysek or Ra'ziir to ride, both seem to look forward to the elves' visits.
Kysek caught off guard; laughs. The elf speaks, “Oh! You got me with that one! I won’t be so easily drawn off guard so easily again though. I promise you that.” The thief turned mage pats gently on Dusk’s haunches. He then immediately goes into his routine of cleaning her stall. The following day; well before dawn, the mage twists his ring, turns invisible, and silently crawls into the rafters above Dusk. As the dawn emerges and Dusk awaits his arrival; he returns the favor; falling squarely in riding position. The elven thief then pats Dusk gently on her shoulder. “Two can play this game “silly girl”. Can we finally show what we can do?”
Kysek's surprise landing causes the griffon to freeze. The Knight of the Barrie Grange feels her entire body stiffen, as if she is unsure what to do. Several heartbeats pass before Dusk relaxes. She turns her head and looks at the elf and then to the ground. The she repeats the gesture.
Kysek dismounts just a moment longer than immediately. He then turns to Dusk and says, “Two can play that game. I don’t want to play games. I want us to rule the air. We can do this my friend. We owe it to all who have fallen. Let’s do this! Together; we are unstoppable!” He smiles to his future mount, “Are you in? Time is wasting!”
Dusk stares at Kysek for several seconds.
And then several more.
Finally, she bobs her head up and down, loosing a soft shriek before moving forward to push her head underneath his arm.
AT THE TOWER OF WAYRETH
Romulus pulls his bracers over his wrists and shoulders his backpack. "Macula, time to go." The leopard rises from its blanket on the floor and stretches, flexes it claws and its back before joining his master.
With a single word, Romulus and his cat vanish in a burst of white light, reappearing at the exact same moment in Lorraine's front yard.
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