Dinner Party - Violet's Story

As Beranhond finished his story, Violet began to fidget a lot, obviously not sure exactly how to tell her story. Odin patted her knee and stood up, nearly banging his head on a beam before sitting back down again and beginning to talk.

"I was in my armorsmithing apprenticeship on Llewellyn when the druid temple was destroyed. In fact, I was working the forge that day when Master Aerilon, my mentor, started hearing the destruction and rushed in to tell us that we needed to flee. I quickly and efficiently banked the fires and put all of my tools in order before grabbing the small bundle of things that was my belongings. I expected that whatever was happening would soon be over, and I hoped to return and help rebuild as soon as possible."

He gave a chagrined smile to the group, "Of course, my decision to spend time packing up meant that I was one of the last to leave the village. As I walked through the door and started toward the water, I heard cries of anguish coming from the direction of the druids' meeting hall, and saw what looked like a small bundle of dark purple cloth until it moved. It was Violet, dragging herself across the ground out of the tunnel. One of her legs was not working correctly, and was causing her extreme amounts of pain."

He put his large hand back on Violet's knee, "I picked her up as gently as I could and carried her out of the town and into the jungle to a small cabin where she could recuperate and heal from her wounds."

Violet added in a haunted voice, "That was the most frightening and painful day of my life. My leg was badly infected, and I was forced to use my magic to remove my leg and cauterize the wound so that the infection wouldn't spread and kill me." She shuddered and withdrew into herself.

After another squeeze of her knee in support, Odin continued, "Once she was stabilized, I crept back back out to check on the village, but didn't get far before I saw the smoke billowing above the jungle canopy. Realizing there was nothing I could do for Llewellyn, I foraged for foodstuffs and firewood, and took care of Violet for a week before she was able to travel. I had studied medicine in Evermeet several years, and I was able to put some of that training to good use."

"We traveled slowly overland to Caer Calidyrr, where we were able to find passage back to Baldur's Gate. I was able to set up this shop and start anew with my tools and inventory after losing everything at Llewellyn. And I have been here ever since," Odin finished.

He looked at Violet questioningly, "Violet, I'm sure your friends would be interested in your story, as well." 

Violet responded to his prodding by laying her much smaller hand over his hand and giving it a small squeeze. She gathered her courage, and went on from where he left off, "With Odin's help, I was able to get an first artificial leg made and begin my rehabilitation. Of course, after my failure to stop the high priest of the Dark God, word began to spread that I'd lost my touch as an assassin, and work began to dry up. It didn't help that I walked with the help of a crutch and had to rely heavily on magic to see the job done, where before I'd been able to count on a quick stab if everything else fell through."

Violet sighed, "I took a series of small jobs, and though I was successful in them, it was obvious that I would not be able to return to my former renown. I began looking for alternative sources of income. I eventually settled on treasure hunting, as it uses a large cross section of the skills needed in my former profession, and have been happily building my new life here with Odin ever since."

Violet continued, "I kept an eye on the events here as I could, and sent what information I found to Beranhond in an attempt to give the party a chance to reconvene, but mostly, I've just tried to get the edge back in my skills and be prepared for whatever comes."

Dinner Party - Beranhond's Story

Beranhond was surprised at the variety of journey's that his companions had taken. Darvin's story hadn't surprised him too much as, sadly, much of the evidence of his last few years remained scattered around The Lady Narath.
Talathel's journey of renewal was uplifting and reminded him of a fervor that had wandered away along with the voices of the Gods.
Nym's story of finding peace, and perhaps a bit of reprieve from the darkness that had followed her, gave him a bit of hope as well. Yet, all too soon he felt it was time for his turn to share his story.
"Well." He said clearing his throat."I can fill in a few gaps that the rest of you don't remember..."

Beranhond stepped away from the attack, the swing of the sword missing him, and he slipped aesahaettr deftly between the guard's ribs.
"Darvin, Johan, we need to advance." He yelled to the two who were fighting rear guard. A sudden blurry shape charged forward from where Johan had once stood.
"What the..." He said, blocking another strike with his shield. Darvin stepped forward and attacked with his swords, disarming one of the guards.
"Well done Darvin!" Beranhond said encouragingly. "We just might win this yet and see what is hidden..."
Beranhond's words were cut off as a large black shape moved down the stairs started chanting.
"Retreat, get out of here!" Beranhond yelled, shoving another guard aside with his shield and then starting to move back toward the entrance.
Before he could move too far toward the exist the chanting stopped and the room filled with darkness and a sharp shock of pain ran through Beranhond's body. He dropped the ground screaming and saw that the other two were also collapsing to the ground in pain.
Beranhond raised up his symbol of Narath, hoping to shield the attack, or at least to minimize some of the pain.
Eth... the darkness is making it's move. Came Narath's voice into his head. He pushed up the symbol again the waves of pain emanating from the darkness. The symbol cracked and broke, and a flash of light exploded out from the light.
Eth, I'm buying you a few moments of escape by distracting the darkness. Return to Baldur's Gate and get the Paladins out of the region... all those relying on divine powers are likely to fall under the sway of the rising darkness. A shimmering wall of light emerged from the broken holy symbol, and Beranhond quickly ran over grabbing Darvin and Johan and dragging them to safety.
The ride back unlike any experience that he had experienced. Darvin and Johan rode as in shock, before Johan suddenly peeled off and rode off in silent, unresponsive to Beranhond's calls.
Beranhond returned Darvin to the Lady Narath, leaving him in the same unresponsive stupor that had overtaken him since Candlekeep.

"At that point, I knew that I needed to find Ceilith. Yet, I was completely unprepared for what was to have occurred. I made my way to the front and found the Tormish Paladins over confidently involved in an assault on the forces of darkness. I assisted them as much as I could, but..." Beranhond swallowed. "My divine powers had failed me and I could cast no spells, call on no abilities, and serve no divine healing. The paladins too suffered similarly. In fact, as the battle went on more and more of the forces turned sides, becoming zombie's and ghosts and ghouls, until Ceilith and I stood at the rearguard, a few paladin's who had once had training as soldiers and warriors the only remnant of the expeditionary force." Beranhond took a heavy sip of the wine. "I thought we might have a chance to escape, but a massive dark shape burst through the line and slammed Ceilith to the ground." He looked down at the oaken table. "I managed to fight off the shape for a moment and to hoist Ceilith up onto a horse. We escaped, along with a few of the paladins, to south of the battlefield. When we stopped and I checked Ceilith's wounds I found that it was beyond my non-magical aid.

"It's alright Eth.." She said coughing up blood. "I'm going to go and join the fight in heaven at Torm's sides."Her hands going up to his face. "I adored every moment I had with you even if I could never understand why you fought against contentment with every fiber of your being.
Beranhond couldn't hold back his smile. "Oh stop... I wasn't that bad." He say ruefully.
"Yes you were." She said before coughing again. "But, when I die, make sure I'm dead... I don't want to come back as one of them. I know what I'm asking you might be morbid, but please, take me back to Tantras and bury me in my family's plot.
Beranhond eyes shot open. "I can't..."
"Please..." She said coughing. "Even if it's just my head. I don't want to come back as one of them." She looked up into his eyes one final time. "Fight the good fight Ethelred. I'll give your parents your best..." she said before sliding into death.

"After her death, I followed her wishes, building a pyre and burning her ashes before leaving Baldur's Gate and returning to Tantras and her ancestral land. I held a small funeral with her family and then attempted to give my report to the Tormish command." He fiddled with his fork, trying not to dwell on the memories.  "Yet, although they politely listened to my report on the destruction of the druids, the vunerabilities of divine energy, and the rise of the darkness they seemed not interested. Apparently since my previous visit a new faction had arisen that decided to refocus on the war with Thay. The incidents out west were deemed unimportant and I was politely thanked but summarily dismissed."
"I returned to my family's land, tilling the land for a season as I reflected on the new reality of the world. Although I prayed and sought conversation with Narath she was absent. Word soon flooded into the Citadel that Gods and Goddesses across the world were seemingly absent from the world. It was at that moment that I realized that I was once again needed out west. My journey back was smooth..."
"Really, smooth?" Evelaen interjected. "That's how you are describing us meeting?" She rolled her eyes. "Beranhond can tell an epic story quite well, but I fear he will mangle the story of our meeting with a lot of unnecessary 'thee's and 'thou's." She laughed heartely. "I don't want it sounding like something that came out of a chivalrous court. So, let them ask their questions and then I'll finish up the story of our journey."

Dinner Party - Darvin's Story

Darvin had listened to everyone else's stories and felt a slight pang of guilt. He had not gone off and bettered himself, in fact, he had probably made himself much worse. He began to speak,

"Beranhond, Johan and I went to Candlekeep. We ended up in a battle with six guards. I have no idea what happened. There was a flash of light...and then nothing. I woke up back on the Lady Narath. I don't know how I got here. I decided the best thing for me to do was wait for the rest of you. So, I've spent three very long years waiting for you."

"I've had my ups and downs, mostly downs during that time. I've spent most of my nights in the various establishments of Baldur's Gate most of you would not be caught dead in. One night at the 'Brick and Mortar' I did meet a girl named Gwenna. She was quite lovely with dark hair and a light brown complexion. We had a whirlwind romance. I was so desperate to belong to something again I ignored all the warning signs. How she always batted her eyes at other men. She had been so impressed with the Lady Narath that I didn't worry about it. We decided to get married. Guybrush told me it was a bad idea but I did it anyway. Two days after we wed, there was a lien placed upon the ship. The next day she ran off with an obnoxious bard named Murray. People told me they were headed east. That's the last I've heard of her."

"Since then I have been consumed by loss. The loss of her. The loss of my friends."

Darvin looked around at the group. He became misty eyed but maintained his composure.

"I thought you all were dead. I have consumed more alcohol than I care to know. Whored so many times I lost count. Since that day I woke up here, I've been trying to find where I fit in this world. Nothing was fulfilling."

"I am very grateful that you are all here again. Had you not arrived soon, I believe I would have hung myself from the yardarm."

Darvin looked around at the group. Silence had set over them. He had not meant to drop his harsh reality on them, but it had just flowed forth. Guybrush patted him on the shoulder.

"Tis a very tragic tale, Captain."

Dinner Party - Talathel's Story

Talathel cleared his throat and began. "There is not much to tell, for I don't believe I have been adventuring. When our group disbanded those years ago, I did not know what to do. So, I set off in search of Kalael. Of course, I had no leads, no ideas. So, I wandered. I would stop at monasteries of the Old Order, but many have been slow on getting information since Kalael has gone missing. In some places, I fear the Old Order may become absent all together.

"I found myself without a purpose, and so I sought one. I traveled throughout Faerun, doing the occasional good deed.  I tried to join with other companies, but apparently elven monks are not in high demand. Eventually, it was probably around the Bloodstone Pass that I realized that I was a purpose in and of myself. My purpose was to connect to Faerun. And so, I continued to wander. I lived off the land. In Mulptan, I sold what I could. I found my pleasure not in a wine cup, not in riches, not even in the helping of others. I found pleasure in simply being.

"This is not to say that I neglected my fellow beings. I would stop in villages and help the needy. In Skuld, I helped in the search for a missing child, for instance. But, I did not want to stay in one place long. Doing so would seem to deny me the pleasure of existing in this realm. There is much to experience.

"I continued along until I reached the coast. To be honest, I was not sure what to do. I could continue along the same path as before. I could try and find passage to the Moonshae Isles. I may have been leaning that way. I had seen Faerun, and maybe could return to my home and live out my days content. But then, I spied The Lady Narath. I am so grateful to see all of you again. And grateful for this stew! Hot meals have been few and far between for me. But, like Nym, I have found myself content, even if not comfortable.

Dinner Party - Nym's Story

When her turn came, Nym smiled down at her wine, swirling it gently as she began, "Since we last were together here, my life has been quite quiet... which is how I've liked it." She looked up at the group, and continued, "I was burned quite badly in Llewellyn, so I went home to heal..." "In more ways than one," she finished in her mind. 

Her eyes glazed slightly as she stared into the middle distance remembering her life over the past three years. A soft smile spread across her face as she continued, "I've been able to rekindle friendships from my childhood, and... other times." She blushed slightly, thinking if Illuvaen and how their relationship had deepened and intensified in the last few months. Her hand absently went to her necklace, a simple silver chain decorated with a small moonstone, which had been a gift from Illuvaen shortly before she left for Baldur's Gate.

"Do you remember when we were sucked into the Dream Plane?" Nym asked, looking at Darvin and Talathel. "We were attacked by that monologuing purple worm? ...I am sad to say the entire plane collapsed roughly two years ago. Luckily, many of our friends escaped before its destruction. By happy chance, Illuvaen found me in Silverymoon just this last fall." She blushed a deeper shade of red and tucked her messy, long hair behind her ear. 

"Apparently, when we returned here, Illuvaen's mother took control and ruled the land as ruthlessly as the shadowcasters." Nym frowned, feeling guilty that they hadn't been able to destroy the crystal. "Along with Illuvaen, about 100 members of the resistance survived the collapse and now live throughout the Silver Marches. Dohn Aeskmi, the ex-monk, lives in Silverymoon, as does Miss Stake." Nym looked thoughtful for a moment, adding, "You know, they have very strange names. I never thought about it before..." She shook her head, laughing, and added, "I even received a letter over winter from Druuv, the arctic goblin who helped us, telling me she and some of her people had escaped the collapse. They're living north of the Marches in the Spine of the World mountains near Mithral Hall." Nym's brow furrowed, and she added, "I'm not sure what happened to the shadowcasters or the half elf queen, though... They could be in Faerun as well."

Nym was quiet for a moment before adding, "I've been happy. Truly happy." She smiled, thinking of Illuvaen, her father, her friends, and the forest all waiting for her in the Silver Marches. Pipper scratched on Nym's leg, stretching and yawning to get her attention. She picked up the fox and set him on her lap, rubbing her fingers through his soft, white fur.

Dinner Party - Johan's Story

Johan sips again at the wineglass, the tasteless fluid seeming like colored water rather than priceless Elven spirits. He leans back, rolling his shoulders in a broad shrug. "Well, after we parted, I traveled south, to Beregost. Slunk around for a bit, until I had a bit of a run-in with the local watchmen after a stretch of being quite...parched. Their leader, Captain Kerp, took a shine to my fighting spirit, and offered me the job. The pay was shit, and the position was as plain and boring as goblin snot, but it meant I spent quite a bit less on sun balm, and, well..."

He chuckled, gesturing with the glass without taking a drink. "I never had a problem with energetic and boisterous prisoners once they'd spent a night in the cells under my watch, and good old Kerp either didn't notice, or didn't care."

Johan fished into a pocket of his coat, pulling out a rough map of the Sword Coast. On it were dozens of scratched circles in ink, dotting all over the coastal waters and coastline itself. "I've been keeping my ear out, as rogue and rowdy undead tend to mean suddenly everyone's wearing as much silver jewelry as they can steal or buy, and buying holy water phials like they're proper healing potions." He shook his head, throwing the map onto the table with mild disgust. "I can't make rhyme nor reason to the attacks; From what I've heard, the pirates have neither a base nor a target that can be made out from their attacks alone."

He leaned back, his grin showing the glint of slightly-too-long teeth, and reaching under his coat, withdrew a small hip flask. Johan took a single bracing swig, before recorking it and stowing it away again.

Dinner Party! (On the Lady Narath)

Darvin's suggestion that they retire to the Lady Narath was met with some amount of support and/or enthusiasm from Nym and Johan, (who had not seen the ship recently) and some reticence from Beranhond, Talathel, Evelaen, Violet, and Odin (who knew that the ship was somewhat in disrepair). Eventually, Darvin's pulling and prodding was able to get everyone to the ship, and as they ate the native food of Thindol, which was a fish stew with carrots and a thick broth served with crackers and bread.

Violet and Odin arrived shortly after the rest of the group, having spent several minutes gathering up a bundle of maps and other materials to help show what they were after. Once they were all ensconced below decks and eating, Violet began by laying out a very old wanted poster.

"You may remember stories of the Pirate Queen Jennah the Bold?" Violet looked around the room, seeing some nods. "Well, as you may remember, she's been dead for about 70 years, and all of her various treasures have been found, so it's not her treasure we're seeking."

Violet continued, as if this were all very necessary information, "She had a long list of associates that supported her, hence her title Pirate Queen, as you all know. I have learned that one of Queen Jennah's wealthiest supporters, known as the Earl of Lush, was sold out by one of her crew mates, named Eelskin Jack. Eelskin Jack thought he was extremely clever to hide out in the cliffsides near Secomber, but was found and killed for his treachery. Of course, as soon as he was sold out, the Earl of Lush moved his vast fortunes elsewhere, so Eelskin Jack was also a dead end. It's too bad, too, because I was really excited to head up to Secomber and dig around in his old hidey hole before I found that out."

Violet shook her head and took a bite of soup before continuing, "No, the Earl of Lush was able to die a wealthy man and pass along his considerable fortune to his illegitimate son, Conner. Conner had been raised to be extremely careful with money, but never knew how to handle it, so soon after he was gifted the money he disappeared with it. Rumor has it that he fled with the treasure to a remote island far to the west, but before he escaped, he said goodbye for the last time to his childhood sweetheart, Amelie, who lived in Daggerford."

Another gulp of soup went down the hatch before Violet continued, "Of course, as soon as he sailed away, a group of brigands tortured and accidentally killed Amelie, trying to get the location that Conner had sailed to. It couldn't have been easy tracking this stupid treasure down, could it?"

At this point, Violet tore half of her slice of bread off and doused it thoroughly in stew before gesturing very seriously at the rest of the crew, "I have learned that before he left, Conner gave Amelie a keepsake to remember him by. If we can get that keepsake, I have a way to use it as a locating beacon and it will lead us to Conner, and therefore to the treasure."

Violet stood and swallowed the hunk of bread in one bite, "So all we have to do is go up to Daggerford and dig up a poor girl that's been dead for 30 years and hope that the small carved turtle carved from shell that Conner gave her is buried with her or at least nearby."

Finding Peace

It had been a long time since Nym smelled sea air, and with the scent came a flood of memories from what seemed like another lifetime. She shifted on Nesme’s bare back, feeling uncertain of her decision to return to Baldur’s Gate. As she’d gotten better at riding over the years, she’d found the saddle cumbersome and soon traded it and the saddlebags for a bag of holding and small backpack for Pipper when he grew tired of running alongside the horse. Nym’s hair is long, as it was in her childhood, and she pays it little heed as it dances messily in the wind. Her garb is that of the High Forest elves in shades of subdued greens and browns. She looks a bit out of place riding bareback along the coastal road, but that is of little importance to her. Nym’s various scars have lightened over time so as to be barely noticeable, except the ever present slave brand of Thay that she keeps carefully covered once again as she had in her childhood.

Her mind wandered back to Llewellyn and that last time she’d seen her old friends in Baldur’s Gate. A slight frown darkened her otherwise lovely face, and she impatiently brushed her light brown hair away from her eyes. After the explosion at the Druid temple at Llewellyn, the Influence, as she’d taken to calling the not-Illuvean creature who still haunted her dreams, no longer whispered to her in the dark places of her mind. Her hair slowly returned to her natural brown after that, and she had returned home to her father in the High Forest to mend her many wounds.

For two years, she hadn’t left the forest at all. Any errands to Silverymoon or the other nearby cities were completed by Ollin alone while Nym continued to reconnect herself with… well, herself. After too many tragedies, too many dark turns, and too many deaths, many at her hands, she wasn’t ready for the world. Her heart slowly healed in the forest, and she remembered what it was like to laugh with true joy. Her anger at the Druids of the Sword Coast faded, and she rarely thought of the destruction of Waterdeep, Iron Keep and Caer Corwell. So many of the remaining Druids had fled into the High Forest, she had to decide to fight or forgive. She chose forgive and forget. Nym focused on healing herbs and improving her wild magic abilities. She found herself quite content with life.

During her third year in the spring, Nym finally felt some degree of wanderlust and took over making supplies and sales trips to the nearby cities and villages for her father. Nesme was happy for the chance to run after being in the forest so long. After her third trip into Silverymoon on her own, Nym worked up the courage to contact her childhood friends. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she kept her expectations for a reunion low since her life and their deaths had created such a void in their friendships. On her fifth trip to Silverymoon, Rahm, her elf friend who also hailed from the High Forest, found her in the market while she was bartering for exotic herbs she’d learned of in her travels. Their conversation was awkward at first as they tried to reestablish their relationship, but they soon fell into a new rhythm. Having been 28 at the time of their imprisonment in Thay, still young for an elf, Rahm didn’t find Nym’s sudden age difference nearly as jarring as the others. In fact, he assured her, he was pleased that they were much closer in age now. Rahm took a position at the Lady’s College, and Nym teased him about being a boring elf. Their friendship became easy, and Nym was happy to have at least one of her childhood friends back in her life. Throughout the spring and summer, slowly her other childhood friends, all now between 17 and 20, began joining Rahm for his visits with Nym. A few years past their resurrections, Nym’s sudden age difference didn’t seem to matter as much to them.

In the early fall when the leaves were just beginning to change, during one of her business trips to Silverymoon, Rahm re-introduced her to a man Nym never thought she would see again: Illuvaen. She hadn’t known how to respond to seeing him outside of the dream plane, and after her experiences with the Influence, she was hesitant at first to speak with him. He, however, was overjoyed to see Nym again. His plane had collapsed for reasons unknown, and he and some from the dream plane had somehow managed to escape here. Nym slowly warmed up to him, and by the end of fall, Illuvaen was making trips to the High Forest to see her. She had told him everything she’s been through and done, and it seemed to make him care for her more. In spite of herself and her better judgement, she found herself falling in love again with yet another dashing half elf. Illuvaen kissed her for the second time since they’d first met in midwinter on the south bank of the River Rauvin outside of Everlund. Illuvaen had wanted to travel with her to Baldur’s Gate, but Nym assured him she was more than capable of handling herself.

Nym’s hand fell to her pocket as she felt the outline of two speaking stones she now carried; one for her father and one for Illuvaen. Nym’s mind wandered back to her current task. As of late, prices for her exotic herbs had become unreasonably high in Silverymoon, and another herbalist had given her a name of a contact in Baldur’s Gate who sold the herbs at a lower, but still high, price. As she neared the city, she noted that it looked much healthier than when she’d last seen it. She swung down from Nesme’s back and let Pipper out of his pouch. As she walked into the town, the animals followed behind her. Nym found that her contact’s directions were accurate, and she soon found herself at the correct shop. She motioned for Nesme and Pipper to wait outside, and as she opened the shop door, she pulled the crumpled paper out of her breast pocket: Odin's Fine Provisions and Sporting Goods.

The Beregost Watchman

Baldur's Gate was as ripe as ever, as the wind brought the smell of the day's catch to blow past the watchman. He was escorting a man in shackles, several weeks of scruffy growth on the hair of the manacled criminal as he was steered by a cold, firm hand towards the Harbormaster.

After nearly shoving the grouchy and ill-tempered bandit into the waiting hands of the Harbormaster's guards, Johan leaned back into the shade of the awning over the door. His wrist burned where he had missed a spot with his sun balm, and the thick wool cloak was giving him a frustrating itch on his neck. A flash of color and movement caught his eye, and he started, drawing back slightly into the corner of the entryway as he saw the unmistakable lines of the Lady Narath in port.

When he'd last seen them, before running to hide in Beregost, Johan's companions had...mixed reactions during that particular fight. He wasn't at all sure which of them would welcome the sight of the creature that had been in their midst, or send him away with curses. Living as a watchmen in the southern town had its perks, especially since few there noticed how tired the prisoners were after a night's stay in the cells, but this trip north had suddenly become a great deal more complicated than he originally had predicted the escort duty to be.

So, full disclosure, Johan is a Vampire class, not a Rogue, and was the whole time last game (I decided having him "revealed", at least OOC, would make it easier on everyone, the DM especially, rather than playing basically 2 characters at once). My thoughts were that Johan had accidentally outed his status in some sort of fight or encounter, and fled shortly thereafter. Whether you saw the vampireyness or not and how you reacted or would react I wanted to leave completely open.

Odin's Fine Provisions and Sporting Goods

You are a jerk for naming it Odin's Fine Provisions and Sporting Goods, but I'll roll with it. ;)

Beranhond was the first in the door, and he was immediately taken aback by the amount of items that packed the room. he could barely get past the door before having to step to the right to get around what looked to be a large orange tent. Beyond that, he spotted a large variety of ropes and cords, and beyond that an assortment of balls of all shapes, sizes, and colors. He saw several that he had no idea what they were for. He kept on looking around the room and saw an array of sticks in different lengths and thicknesses, and beyond that...

His inspection of the room was interrupted when his gaze alit upon a very large man with grayish skin and black hair. He was sitting at a small table about 5 feet away wearing a pair of goggles and squinting at a very small woven ball that he appeared to be stitching. The sight was rather comical, as his long arms and broad shoulders seemed to wrap around his table to bring the small object up to about 6 inches from his face. He was wearing a rather nondescript craftsman's tunic and trousers except that the crest from the sign outside was proudly embroidered on the left breast. He was concentrating very closely on the ball, and his tongue was sticking out as he moved his gargantuan hands in a very delicate stitch.

As Beranhond eyed the man, the others entered the room. The man sewed two more stitches, exhaled heavily, retrieved his tongue, and set the ball down. He wiped his brow on his long sleeve, and brought the goggles up to rest on his forehead. It was obvious from the rings around his eyes he'd been working on the stitching for some time.

Standing up to his full height, he made eye contact with Beranhond and bowed, somewhat too formally, "Hello my fine lady and gentlemen. What can I help you with today? Are you interested in a bit of sport? Perhaps you would like to requisition a custom May Pole? Or are you in of some other bit of provisions? Whatever you're looking for, I'm sure you've come to the right place."

Through the city

Talathel entered the city of Baldur's Gate. After years away, he had returned. Baldur's Gate was where his adventuring had began. As he walked through the streets, he remembered the battle against the Rat Queen beneath the streets. Beyond that had been a blur, had been an alcoholic vision of various battles, journeys, inns, and friends.

He found himself, almost without thinking, at the door of Milway's. It was here that he had met Lailsan. He had not heard from her since she had gone home to the Moonshae Isles. Of course, he had been travelling. No one could get a hold of him. He wondered if she had tried. He hadn't.

He debated going in, but for what? Lailsan would not be there and he had no money. And besides, when was the last time that he had drunk rum or anything else? He hadn't missed it that much.

He waited outside Milways, waiting for some sign of where he should go next. But, the only place that stood out to him was the docks. Not finding much in terms of signs, he headed that way.

The Lady Narath had aged a bit, he thought, but was still in good shape. Darvin had treated it well. Did he have a crew of any type? Talathel stopped at the gang plank. He could see no one on the deck. He cleared his throat and shouted at the ship.

"Captain Darvin! An old friend requests an audience with you!"

A Reunion Aboard the Lady Narath, Part 1, BH style

Bernahond glared at Tigrisclawu, not entirely annoyed, but a little perturbed at the feline's behavior. Tigris had always been a bit moody, but he had started showing quite the preference toward Evelaen. He bent down and took the bird into his hand and was shocked when it started to squeak, "Visit Oden's for all of your adventuring needs!"
"Well, I suspect that's Violet's calling card."
Evelaen looked somewhat bemused at Beranhond. "It sounds more like an annoying viral advertisement."
"No, this is classic Violet. It's weird magic, vague,  off the wall, and lacking details."
"Why are we searching out this Violet character again? Was she an ex-lover or something?" Beranhond leaned down to the bird and whispered to it in the birds native language to find the shop and return to be free of the task laid upon it.
Beranhond sputtered at the suggestion "No, definitely not."
She grinned, "it's alright if she was... I'm not that jealous. At least, not yet."
Beranhond looked over her and rolled his eyes slightly. Yet, before he had a chance to respond to her teasing he heard the familiar call from a ship in the harbor.

"Beranhond! Up here! The Lady Narath has missed you!" Came the familiar voice of a half elf. Beranhond looked up at the familiar, though worn and damaged, vessel. He didn't look toward the front of the ship, worried about the state of the Narath statue, and instead looked to find the worn features of Darvin.
"Hail Darvin! Thy ship has apparently missed me for longer than I care to consider. Hast thou not found a harbor or safe passage from which thou couldst do thine repairs? I beseech thee to allow me to board promptly so that I can take inventory of the travesty that thou has wrought!" Beranhond tried to hold back a grin at the flowery speech. He suspected that Darvin thought of him as a bit pompous and decided that this was a perfect moment in which to test the man's resolve. Such flowery speech was still common in parts of the east and it was entirely possible that Berandhond's words had become overtly flowery.
"You're ridiculous, adorable, but ridiculous." Evelaen said from behind him.
"Ignore him. He's just trying to annoy you."
"Eva!" Beranhond said in feigned shock. But he burst into a grin.
"Hail Darvin, I'm glad I have found you without a journey into the dreamrealm, or one involving ghosts, goblins, and ghouls, do I have your permission to board?

A Reunion Aboard the Lady Narath, Part 1

Darvin watched the Wood Elf, whose name he couldn't remember, walk down the gang plank and disappear into the crowds on the wharf.  He always felt pangs of guilt and longing when the elf maidens would leave in the morning. Deep down he always knew that he had become a shadow of his former self, but he could always rationalize his way out of it. He had failed, he didn't matter anymore. Although, that last thought had been proven wrong when he had received notice that the leading Guild of the city had put a lien on the Lady Narath. In his depression he had neglected to pay off the debts the City Council had bestowed upon the group when the ship was put under his care.

He was lost in thought as he stared out over the crowd. A familiar looking cat caught his eye.

"No...it can't be." Darvin thought to himself. He needed to get a closer look.

"Guybrush, please bring me the spyglass," He requested to the monkey.

"Another pretty lady in the crowd this morning, sir?" Asked the cheeky monkey as he handed Darvin the spyglass.

Darvin ignored the comment and used the instrument to look over the crowd. Upon closer inspection, Darvin was sure that he had just spotted Tigrisclawu, who was having a terrible time trying to catch a swallow. Although, it was maybe the most athletic swallow that Darvin had ever laid eyes on. Eventually, the cat caught the bird and continued down the wharf where he dropped the creature at the feet of a very attractive woman. Who was standing next to a very large Paladin.

"Well, I'll be dipped in shit and rolled in breadcrumbs!" said Darvin in surprise.

"One of Greg's recipe's, sir?" asked Guybrush.

"No, you cheeky bastard. Beranhond and Tigrisclawu are down there. Sure as the sun rises they are." Darvin explained. He quickly climbed a third of the way up the rigging of the main mast and started to wave at Beranhond and his companions.

"Beranhond! Up here! The Lady Narath has missed you!"

A weary traveler

The fish sizzled over the open fire. It had been along time sine Talathel had eaten fish. The Rift Lake? He couldn't remember. The days, weeks, months...had it been years, all blended together. Some days he ate. More days he did not. Each day he had wandered.

He did not own much. His bundle was light. He foraged for food. Over the years, he had developed somewhat of a talent of catching small game. He could fish a bit. In towns, he was not above rummaging through trash to find food. When he was really desperate, he would steal, though it pained him to do so. Every time he stole, he could feel his search for Koldael becoming longer and longer.

In an attempt to shorten it, he had sold most of his possessions in Mulptan. His journey across the Long Road had indeed been long. Desperate for food, he sold all that he could part with. Since then, Talathel had often slept out under the stars, eating what food he could find.

At some point in his journey, Talathel had decided that he should like to see the Moonshae Isles again. As he journeyed westward, the chance to glimpse home one last time became his goal. Koldael was perhaps beyond him. He stayed on the main roads, sometimes following in with crowds. He preached some of the Old Order, which sometimes got him food. Eventually, he ended up in Candle's Keep. He set up camp on the coast, where he had the fortune of catching the fish.

The sun rose, and he looked out onto the Sea of Swords. He spotted a solitary ship in the distance. He trained his eyes on it. It came closer to the shore, and...could it be? The front of the ship looked so familiar. The paint...the look of it. Was it The Lady Narath?

Talathel felt his spirit rise a bit. There might be some life in him yet. The Lady Narath appeared to be heading towards Baldur's Gate. Of course it was. All of Faerun to explore, and why wouldn't his friends be in Baldur's Gate.

Talathel gathered up his pack and his staff and headed out for the city. He'd find his friends again, and go adventuring.

Tigrisclawu and Flutterwings

Please note that the following is an adapted version of the thoughts and mindset of both Tigriclawu and Flutterwings. Sadly, bird and cat thoughts are hard to translate into the common speach of Faerun, so a certain amount of anthropomorphization is required. 

Flutterwings the sparrow was born shortly after the troubles began. These troubles didn't bother her one bit as the destruction of parts of Baldur's Gate created wonderful hiding spots in which to nest and live. Plus, she and her siblings had many delightful places in which to swoop and soar, and there was always the presence of all the other sparrows from which she was thinking of selecting her mates.

The pier was one of her favorite places to stay around until one day when life became a little stranger after an odd human grabbed her and said 'you'll do nicely.' After that she felt this odd compulsion to fly about in an obvious way. This unerved part of her, but whenever she tried to stop she found that she couldn't. Her heart fluttered uncontrollably when a tiny human grabbed a hold of her body as she danced along the wharf. To her utter surprise she shouted, "Visit Oden's for all of your adventuring needs!" In perfect common speech at which the little girl screamed in horror and ran away.
Still, Flutterwings flew about drawing attention. Yet, she found that her ability to dart around and escape harm was superswallow! That part she adored, yet it was put to the test when an intelligent looking cat began to poke around the wharf.

Tigrisclawu hated Baldur's Gate. He hated the place the first time he had been brought by Beranhond, he hated it the second time he had been brought by Beranhond, and he hated it the third time that Beranhond sent him. The last time he protested about being sent as an advanced scout, shrieking in anger at Beranhond about being treated like a common household pet. Beranhond was about to give up until Evelaen stepped in and started to pet and cuddle him, encouraging him about how strong and tough and independent of a cat he was. Tigrisclawu knew that she was buttering him up, but he gave way to her utter charm and agreed to slink off into the city to search for a message from Violet.

On the second day in the city he found his way to the wharf and couldn't believe his eyes when the most delicious smelling swallow darted all around. He darted around, snarling, and hissing, his tail thick as he jumped from the various barrels, containers, and boxes in an attempt to catch the bird. Despite his best effort the swallow seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to avoid his attacks and the swings of his claws.

Finally, after a truly sneaky and dashing move he managed to trap the bird underneath his claws, as he licked his lips and bent his face toward the struggling the swallow. To his surprise the bird squeaked in common, "Deliver me to your master." Tigrisclawu growled, and then bent down, gently, and took the bird, delicately, into his mouth and carried it off in the hopes of finding Beranhond.



To his delight, he saw that Evelaen, and Beranhond, had actually made their way to the wharf. He dropped the swallow in front of Evelaen, just as a gentle reminder to Beranhond that he hadn't completely forgiven him.

For every season

The area surrounding Baldur's Gate had fallen steadily into a wilder and wilder state and travel was becoming increasingly difficult. Roving bands of brigands and outlaws harassed the few merchants and traders willing to brave the treacherous journey.

Outside of the once fair and prosperous city a small enclave had formed at the top of the hill guarding the path into the city. The people living their were called by a variety of names, though they themselves claimed no title or allegiance. The city officials generally let them be as they helped to guard the passage into the city and, for the most part, kept the peace.

Rumors floated around the city that the leader of the encampment was a former Paladin of Torm. Others said that it was a foul mouthed halfling, yet others swore to their dying day that it was an elf lord from a distant kingdom. Regardless, it was common knowledge that the leader of the encampment had been part of the alliance that had led the charge against the forces of the darkness years ago...

Beranhond sat up in shock, breathing heavily, sweat pouring from his brow. He looked about the room, trying to remind himself that he wasn't in the midst of the long ago battle.
"What's wrong Eth?" Came a woman's voice from beside him.
He rubbed his eyes and turned to look at her, smiling slightly despite himself.
"It was that dream again... of Candlekeep, and of my visit to the aftermath of the Temple of the druids." He said in a tired voice.
"Oh, Eth, I'm sorry." She said putting her hands around him and pulling him down into the mattress. "At least we made it safely to Baldur's Gate and can start looking to see if there is any sign or words of your friends.
"Yes." He said letting himself be pulled back into the comfort of the sheets.
 As Evelaen fell noislessly back to sleep Beranhond's mind couldn't help but reflect on all the changes since his last trip to Baldur's Gate. It had been filled with the worst kind of adventure - after the disaster at Candlekeep he'd worked with the Paladin's of Torm to stem the tide of darkness from reaching into the continent. Yet, it had been for naught, as the dark God arose, and changed the balance of the land. All across Faerun word had spread that the Gods and Godesses were distant, beyond hearing, and their miracles and blessings seemingly less potent. Beranhond's own faith had been shaken after...
No, he thought, I'm not going to think about that right now.
He looked over at the dark haired, dark eyed, Evelaen, and pushed her hair out of her eyes. It had been an unexpected event that had brought them together, but she had become one of the few sources of comfort in the troublesome world of Faerun.
The next morning Evelaen and Beranhond packed up their meager belongings, said goodbye to the surprisingly polite innkeeper and headed off into the partially ruined city that was Baldur's Gate. Along the way Beranhond pointed out the changes that had occured to the city - especially noting the square where he had once upon a time had the ability to cure the multitude, and the entrances to the underground where they had to fight giant rats. Evelaen humored Beranhond as he narrated nostalgia, even asking a few follow up questions to show her willingness to listen.

Finally, after some backtracking around blocked streets they found their way to the wharf district.
"If Darvin is anywhere, he'll be here, and I know that Violet told me that she'd leave word for me at the docks if she was ever in the area."
 

It's Time...

Darkness. Pounding. Pain. The moment before you open your eyes in the morning. These were the sensations Darvin was experiencing. He opened his eyes and looked around the room. Moonlight was pouring in through the cabin window. His head hurt. He noticed an empty bottle of rum lying on the ground. And then he noticed another one. This was a typical morning for Darvin Amblecrown, formerly mighty pirate, these days.

Darvin remembered setting off with his friends for Candlekeep three years ago. He even recalled fighting a battle, however, he could never remember how it turned out. He ended up in Baldur's Gate. He wasn't sure how he got back there either. His friends were nowhere to be found. Based on all of this, he had assumed that the ending of that battle had not gone well. That had weighed on the half-elf tremendously. He had never been as close to a group of people as he had been with his fellow adventuring friends. Slowly though, it all unraveled. First, with the death of Thjdolf five years ago. Then the Candlekeep disaster, as it came to be known in his head. And finally, with the dissolution with his ill-conceived marriage two years ago. It had lasted for 3 days and then she left him for a bard. Darvin had always hated bards. (For the record, my real life marriage is going great. No need to worry.)

The culmination of these three event had led him into a life of depression and alcohol. He had spent the last two years drinking the nights away on the Lady Narath. Slowly but surely the crew had disappeared. Either embarrassed for their captain or upset that they weren't getting paid. The only one who remained was Guybrush, his monkey First Mate. Darvin noticed his friend sleeping in his small cot in the corner of the room. It was also at this point that Darvin noticed the Wood Elf in bed next to him. This had become more and more frequent lately. Baldur's Gate had many seedy establishments. Darvin had discovered one called "The Naughty Wood Elf" which employed those very beings. He spent many nights drinking there and then bringing a random elf-maiden home. He looked at the woman laying next to him. 

"What the hell is her name again?" He thought to himself.

"Nefertari? Nefertiti?" In the end it didn't matter. She would be gone right after sun-up. They always were. It was probably better that way. 

He got out of bed and made his way to the deck. The moon was low in the sky and sunrise would be soon. Darvin made his way to the rail and looked out of the harbor toward the open ocean. He started to reminisce on his times with his old friends. How he had met Talathel in a bar in Secomber. Two lost souls who found purpose through each other at just the right time. He thought of his large cleric friend, Beranhond, who was as bumbling as he was righteous. He sadly and fondly remembered his friend Thjdolf, who had died under mysterious circumstances. He thought of Nym as well. The half-elf maid they had discovered in a sewer. He shook his head when he thought about his ill-fated and ill-advised romance with her. He wondered what had become of them. He missed them terribly. It made his head hurt even more.

He heard the cabin door open behind him and Guybrush climbed up onto the rail beside him.

"Morning Cap'n." Said the monkey.

"We can't keep doing this, Guybrush," Darvin sighed as he looked out over the sea before them, "I wish our friends were still alive..."

"Aye Cap'n." The monkey nodded sadly.

"We can't do this anymore," Darvin said again, "It's time...it's time we move on. It's time we find out what happened to them and where they are. It's just time..." 

"It tis, Cap'n, it truly is." They both continued to stare over the vast Sea of Swords in front of them.

All right. Your guys' move.