The city of Sigil is lousy when it comes to keeping things quiet be it secrets or otherwise because after all, most of its walls are doors.
The market place is abuzz this week as many travelers over hear rumors of an expedition to the prime of Toril seems to be forming very rapidly. The apparent leaders of this expedition, two men named Quinn and Argent, are putting together a crew at the request of one of Sigils established merchants.
Many people have heard Miranda Illdesserin (with her week old newborn Edwin in arms!), talking over the trip with the two expedition leaders. The long story short tells a tale of a concerned wife who, during the moment of child birth and for every day since, has had a nagging worry and suspicion that something terrible has happened to her loving husband back home on the prime of Toril. The talk is, her husband is a red wizard like herself who owns a Thayan merchant enclave on the continent of Faerun along a stretch of land known as the Dragons Reach.
The goal, at heart is a simple well being check and the delivery of good news to the woman's husband regarding their newborn son, what could go wrong right?.
Anyone interested in enlisting or volunteering for the trip should speak to Argent or Quinn.
//A few bullets for interested parties.
//Yes, Miranda is a pc character.
//If you have not read her biography, the latest entries "Alpha & Omega Pt 1 & 2" actually tell the tale of Mirandas child birth and the fate (up to the moment) of her husbands enclave.
//That being said, just because you can read about what has happened, i urge you not to ASSUME anything, as surprises may undoubtedly await the expedition.
//Please note, this is the ember to a much larger plot and while Miranda is involved in the beginning of this story understand that aside from the terrible news she is destined to recieve this is not about -her-, but rather fore shadows up and coming events that may have far reaching consequences.
Into The Dragons Reach.
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*WhenWizardsWar
- Posts: 353
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The life of a planeswalker is never as simple as one would like it to be someimes, and for the expedition to Faerun this has proven very true on both a far reaching level and for one....a personal level.
The group arried in the skies above the Thayan Enclave which was situated in the dragons reach, between the towns of Scardale and Harrowdale. They beheld a scene of utter devastation from above and below as they carefully made their way through the enclave grounds after dealing with a few pockets of orc looters who were looking for something -anything- that might have been left behind.
At the center of the enclave, where its defenders made their last stand against an orc army that clearly numbered in the hundreds of not thousands, they beheld a dark meeting between a wisened orc and a mysterious entity who was communicating with the green blood via magical projection. The orc who revealed himself to be a powerful priest of Gruumsh, the one eyed orc god was slain in the confrontation that quickly followed.
In the aftermath of the battle, the group discovered the body of Miranda Illdesserins husband, impaled in the center of the defenders keep with a spear. The group tried everything they could to call back the mans spirit but was only successful in bringing back a fading fragment of his essence, a portion of his soul that contained nothing more then disorganized memories and utter confusion as to his current state of existance. The group member known as Quinn was able to help guide the confused and lost spirit to Kelemvors realm and the group recovered the red wizards body and the few personal belongings he had with him in order to deliver his magically preserved remains to Miranda.
As the group returned to the magical ship owned by the time lord Argent, the group finds themselves of mixed emotions and thoughts on what hey had discovered at the enclave. They are legimately worried about how they are going to break the news of Gregorys death to Miranda yes, but more so they are worried about two things they heard from the meeting between the priest of Gruumsh and the mysterious figure. As the mysterious figure ceased his projection, and when the orc priest drew his final breath they uttered a total of three words.
"Black Network", the mysterious projection had mentioned.
And how and why did this simple, mundane orc priest of Gruumsh utter the word "Sigil" with his final breath?.
As the group pondered their next course of action, the magical ship alerted its pilot to a situation below them on the surface. As the group raced to look down upon Faeruns landscape, they beheld a tidal wave of green and red pouring out of the Cormanthyr forest north of Harrowdalem the dale located north of the enclave. The group watched in helpless horror as the orc tide that had looted the enclave, now an incredibly well armored, armed and well supplied threat began to wash over the dragons reach.
The horde is traveling so fast, and is now such a serious and dangerous threat that Harrowdale and Scardale are quickly over run by the orcs as the group looks on the sea of orcs begins to spread over the dragons reach in a swarm of death and destruction.
Quinn now panics and becomes worried about the situation as a close family member of his is reported to live in Featherdale, one of the settlements on the outskirts of the region.
A settlement that, if Argents ships calculations are correct will be over run in just ten hours if the orc horde remains unchecked.
The magical ship now speeds across the sky, hoping to get to featherdale and warn its people before its too late.
//Sorry it took me so long to kick off the posts guys, feel free to add your posts.
The group arried in the skies above the Thayan Enclave which was situated in the dragons reach, between the towns of Scardale and Harrowdale. They beheld a scene of utter devastation from above and below as they carefully made their way through the enclave grounds after dealing with a few pockets of orc looters who were looking for something -anything- that might have been left behind.
At the center of the enclave, where its defenders made their last stand against an orc army that clearly numbered in the hundreds of not thousands, they beheld a dark meeting between a wisened orc and a mysterious entity who was communicating with the green blood via magical projection. The orc who revealed himself to be a powerful priest of Gruumsh, the one eyed orc god was slain in the confrontation that quickly followed.
In the aftermath of the battle, the group discovered the body of Miranda Illdesserins husband, impaled in the center of the defenders keep with a spear. The group tried everything they could to call back the mans spirit but was only successful in bringing back a fading fragment of his essence, a portion of his soul that contained nothing more then disorganized memories and utter confusion as to his current state of existance. The group member known as Quinn was able to help guide the confused and lost spirit to Kelemvors realm and the group recovered the red wizards body and the few personal belongings he had with him in order to deliver his magically preserved remains to Miranda.
As the group returned to the magical ship owned by the time lord Argent, the group finds themselves of mixed emotions and thoughts on what hey had discovered at the enclave. They are legimately worried about how they are going to break the news of Gregorys death to Miranda yes, but more so they are worried about two things they heard from the meeting between the priest of Gruumsh and the mysterious figure. As the mysterious figure ceased his projection, and when the orc priest drew his final breath they uttered a total of three words.
"Black Network", the mysterious projection had mentioned.
And how and why did this simple, mundane orc priest of Gruumsh utter the word "Sigil" with his final breath?.
As the group pondered their next course of action, the magical ship alerted its pilot to a situation below them on the surface. As the group raced to look down upon Faeruns landscape, they beheld a tidal wave of green and red pouring out of the Cormanthyr forest north of Harrowdalem the dale located north of the enclave. The group watched in helpless horror as the orc tide that had looted the enclave, now an incredibly well armored, armed and well supplied threat began to wash over the dragons reach.
The horde is traveling so fast, and is now such a serious and dangerous threat that Harrowdale and Scardale are quickly over run by the orcs as the group looks on the sea of orcs begins to spread over the dragons reach in a swarm of death and destruction.
Quinn now panics and becomes worried about the situation as a close family member of his is reported to live in Featherdale, one of the settlements on the outskirts of the region.
A settlement that, if Argents ships calculations are correct will be over run in just ten hours if the orc horde remains unchecked.
The magical ship now speeds across the sky, hoping to get to featherdale and warn its people before its too late.
//Sorry it took me so long to kick off the posts guys, feel free to add your posts.
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*WhenWizardsWar
- Posts: 353
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
//Edit:Thanks to a keen eye, and a reasonable question it was brought to my attention, much to my shame that i made a serious geographical blunder and i deeply appoligse.
//Please re-read the above post
//The enclave sits south of harrowdale and north of SCARDALE (not dagger dale).
//The horde of orcs comes from the forest of Cormanthyr, not any of the nearby mountain ranges.
//The horde, thanks to the gear from the enclave has access to far more mobility then they would other wise which is why they are able to over run harrowdale and scardale so quickly.
//Yes there is a reason why harrowdale was not overrun when the orcs first arrived.
//Feather dale is not terribly far from scardale but when you consider the time for fighitng and a propor looting, that is why it will take so long to get from scardale to feather dale.
//I am sorry for the misinformation, i dont know wtf i was thinking when i wrote up this part of the plot originally
//Please re-read the above post
//The enclave sits south of harrowdale and north of SCARDALE (not dagger dale).
//The horde of orcs comes from the forest of Cormanthyr, not any of the nearby mountain ranges.
//The horde, thanks to the gear from the enclave has access to far more mobility then they would other wise which is why they are able to over run harrowdale and scardale so quickly.
//Yes there is a reason why harrowdale was not overrun when the orcs first arrived.
//Feather dale is not terribly far from scardale but when you consider the time for fighitng and a propor looting, that is why it will take so long to get from scardale to feather dale.
//I am sorry for the misinformation, i dont know wtf i was thinking when i wrote up this part of the plot originally
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*DigitalDragoon
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Featherdale. It home for twenty some years. His family was there. Friends. Neighbors. It was known for being completely unremarkable in the history of the dales. A extremely tiny province with a small rural community lacking even of township worth note. A peaceful sort of place for an alchemist to live quietly. And now An army of heavily armed orc raiders were bearing down on the region. Harrowdale and Scardale were already burning. Homesick as he was, this was hardly what he had hoped to return to.
As Melethkanara speeds along, Quinn studies the curtain of green falling over the eastern edge of the Dalelands. Wringing his hands roughly enough turn knuckles white, he paces the bridge with a caged restlessness. Worries about his dear daughter and her husband consuming his thoughts.
They had to alert everyone they could. He knew so many families from the region. Was it possible to evacuate all of the outlying hamlets and farmsteads in time? Perhaps they could arrive soon enough to muster the local militia. The eastern towns were overrun so quickly though. It was a serious concern if the local garrison would even be enough. What could be done to stop the march of blood and blade?
A lingering dread crawls through the pit of his stomach as he turns such thoughts about in his mind. Argent said the ship would arrive with an hour. Such of dreadfully long and agonizing hour it was though. He stop his endless fretting only briefly to check on the others.
As Melethkanara speeds along, Quinn studies the curtain of green falling over the eastern edge of the Dalelands. Wringing his hands roughly enough turn knuckles white, he paces the bridge with a caged restlessness. Worries about his dear daughter and her husband consuming his thoughts.
They had to alert everyone they could. He knew so many families from the region. Was it possible to evacuate all of the outlying hamlets and farmsteads in time? Perhaps they could arrive soon enough to muster the local militia. The eastern towns were overrun so quickly though. It was a serious concern if the local garrison would even be enough. What could be done to stop the march of blood and blade?
A lingering dread crawls through the pit of his stomach as he turns such thoughts about in his mind. Argent said the ship would arrive with an hour. Such of dreadfully long and agonizing hour it was though. He stop his endless fretting only briefly to check on the others.
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*Lucadia
- Posts: 450
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Back in his natural element upon his ship, the pilot immediately took back control for driving. For that brief moment, there was elation and joy linking up, as the ships magically enhanced sensors became his own sight, superimposed upon what he could see of his "crew".
Reluctantly he could hear the ogre in back of his head asking if he could stay to fight. Hear the clicking of the books of Quinn as he paced back and forth on the deck. Feel the cold chill of the rain that long soaked his clothes after their flight away from the hoarding orcs of the fallen enclave.
"Hang on tight, we got a plan. Several in fact. Just give me a moment."
He continued to gather read outs from visual sensors. Getting a scope of the land, numbers of the enemy, possible terrain to use as an advantage. Several ideas in his head for misdirection. He checks again, making a calculation on the best route the orcs and their geared mounts would take on a forced march, noting out flat plains and forests.
"Quinn, Namael, I need you two to work together and focus on the helm for spell casting. We are going set up a few shadow terrain traps. Namael, if you can focus your mind and imagine assisting in his spells to cover a wider area, that be excellent. We are going target both forests and flat lands. Lets make the flat lands swampy to impede and trap mounts. The forests more foreboding with haunting ghost sounds."
He looked to the second helm, considering Quinns' state of mind, but seemed best to keep him busy before one other soft reply "Dont worry, we will get to them in time. Only going spend very shortly setting up these spells. You have time to prepare Sahabat."
He inwardly has the ship turn to the east toward the forest away from the Dragon Reach bay, taking in other considerations, looking for more information. Melethkanara does inform him the area is known for elves to the north, this Myth Drannor and dragons from the west. He then hops down from his deck to approach Tiameth, much to his own chagrin how he reacted earlier that day to her presence, he was going make this work.
"You, dragon! Your going go to the small top deck while we are in flight and taking a dive off. Take your true form and size. Then we are going to increase it. Going give them a freight for their lives. Harass them as you will, don't get close enough for ballista bolts and arrows though. They have Thayan magics, but I doubt entire army is able to control their lesser trained troops nor have ability to pierce the illusions we set up. What ever our companions can offer you in way of wards, speak with them. Ill be sure to give you a bit time magic so you can fly swiftly as well."
As his mind turned inward to several other private thoughts, he got back up on his own deck, watching from viewing screen physically and internally from Melethakaras perception, feeling the drum of excitement in his ears. Several things turned over with several voices. Black Network. Manshoon. Sigil. Her. The mention of the orcs having sought a map. A map of the great wheel having appeared on Edwin. One and the same? Nevermind the temporal distortion earlier, he prod that when he got back to Sigil. His last act was flicking a switch, that only other spelljammers could pick up. A morse code in particular asking for any other Imperial Elven Ships in the area or the very few mages upon the ground that could detect the signal.
Reluctantly he could hear the ogre in back of his head asking if he could stay to fight. Hear the clicking of the books of Quinn as he paced back and forth on the deck. Feel the cold chill of the rain that long soaked his clothes after their flight away from the hoarding orcs of the fallen enclave.
"Hang on tight, we got a plan. Several in fact. Just give me a moment."
He continued to gather read outs from visual sensors. Getting a scope of the land, numbers of the enemy, possible terrain to use as an advantage. Several ideas in his head for misdirection. He checks again, making a calculation on the best route the orcs and their geared mounts would take on a forced march, noting out flat plains and forests.
"Quinn, Namael, I need you two to work together and focus on the helm for spell casting. We are going set up a few shadow terrain traps. Namael, if you can focus your mind and imagine assisting in his spells to cover a wider area, that be excellent. We are going target both forests and flat lands. Lets make the flat lands swampy to impede and trap mounts. The forests more foreboding with haunting ghost sounds."
He looked to the second helm, considering Quinns' state of mind, but seemed best to keep him busy before one other soft reply "Dont worry, we will get to them in time. Only going spend very shortly setting up these spells. You have time to prepare Sahabat."
He inwardly has the ship turn to the east toward the forest away from the Dragon Reach bay, taking in other considerations, looking for more information. Melethkanara does inform him the area is known for elves to the north, this Myth Drannor and dragons from the west. He then hops down from his deck to approach Tiameth, much to his own chagrin how he reacted earlier that day to her presence, he was going make this work.
"You, dragon! Your going go to the small top deck while we are in flight and taking a dive off. Take your true form and size. Then we are going to increase it. Going give them a freight for their lives. Harass them as you will, don't get close enough for ballista bolts and arrows though. They have Thayan magics, but I doubt entire army is able to control their lesser trained troops nor have ability to pierce the illusions we set up. What ever our companions can offer you in way of wards, speak with them. Ill be sure to give you a bit time magic so you can fly swiftly as well."
As his mind turned inward to several other private thoughts, he got back up on his own deck, watching from viewing screen physically and internally from Melethakaras perception, feeling the drum of excitement in his ears. Several things turned over with several voices. Black Network. Manshoon. Sigil. Her. The mention of the orcs having sought a map. A map of the great wheel having appeared on Edwin. One and the same? Nevermind the temporal distortion earlier, he prod that when he got back to Sigil. His last act was flicking a switch, that only other spelljammers could pick up. A morse code in particular asking for any other Imperial Elven Ships in the area or the very few mages upon the ground that could detect the signal.
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*Er_Nano_Infame
- Posts: 435
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Namael nods and waits for quinn to take position
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*WhenWizardsWar
- Posts: 353
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
It was something at least, the thought of shadow terrain and it will likely work considering the skill and potency of the planes walkers. As the magical illusion and terrain trap are set in place, the ship indicates a clear landinh about a mile away from Featherdale that sits along the river Ashaba.
The ship also advises using the clearing and then walking to the nearby village on foot so as not to alarm the locals by flying through the sky. When the do decide to land, the group has successfully left the landscape behind them a twisted altered version of what it really is, a clever ruse that is sure to halt even the powerful orc horde creeping towards them, at least for a little while.
The smoke of Harrowdale and Scardale can be seen crawling into the sky even at this distance and it is likely others have noticed the sight as well.
When the group is ready, featherdale is just a short walk to the east.
The ship also advises using the clearing and then walking to the nearby village on foot so as not to alarm the locals by flying through the sky. When the do decide to land, the group has successfully left the landscape behind them a twisted altered version of what it really is, a clever ruse that is sure to halt even the powerful orc horde creeping towards them, at least for a little while.
The smoke of Harrowdale and Scardale can be seen crawling into the sky even at this distance and it is likely others have noticed the sight as well.
When the group is ready, featherdale is just a short walk to the east.
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*RainOfChaos42
- Posts: 2
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Upon hearing the instructions from Argent, Tiemeth breaks into a pleased grin. It had been so very, very long since she had had the opportunity (or need) to unleash her all against a foe. As she undoes the clasp about her neck and lets the painful collar fall to the floor, she looks to her companions, a wild fire in her eyes as she feels her long-restrained power coming back to her.
"But of course, elf...I will see how thin I can make their ranks. I assume you have a way to inform me when you require my presence again, yes?"
Without waiting for an answer from him, Tia steps up to the top deck, and promptly throws herself over the side, laughing in pure glee as her body changes, becoming larger and larger, until she plummets towards the ground in her full, unrestrained glory, a colossal red dragon, her crimson scales thick as shields, her claws sharp as swords. Her wings unfurl, quickly finding an updraft to ride as she descends. Her eyes survey the land below, looking for where she might cause the most chaos in the orcish ranks.
As the dragon circles in the air, she lets out a mighty roar, the loudest she can. It would serve two purposes, in theory: To alert nearby towns that there is grave danger about, and call attention to herself, away from the orcs' original goal, whatever that may be.
"But of course, elf...I will see how thin I can make their ranks. I assume you have a way to inform me when you require my presence again, yes?"
Without waiting for an answer from him, Tia steps up to the top deck, and promptly throws herself over the side, laughing in pure glee as her body changes, becoming larger and larger, until she plummets towards the ground in her full, unrestrained glory, a colossal red dragon, her crimson scales thick as shields, her claws sharp as swords. Her wings unfurl, quickly finding an updraft to ride as she descends. Her eyes survey the land below, looking for where she might cause the most chaos in the orcish ranks.
As the dragon circles in the air, she lets out a mighty roar, the loudest she can. It would serve two purposes, in theory: To alert nearby towns that there is grave danger about, and call attention to herself, away from the orcs' original goal, whatever that may be.
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*Lucadia
- Posts: 450
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The Elven Pilot makes sure his ship blends in with the settled grounds, short of true sight going let her been seen for the alien vessel it was, then tended to a few gatherings for the short trek. He lets the rest of his temporary crew know he was ready, and here time was the essence.
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*DigitalDragoon
- Posts: 212
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The rain was still a light drizzle as the ship set down in the spongy grass of the meadow. Even with the encroaching hint of ash, the scent of late spring blooms played on the damp breeze. It brought to the aging alchemist memories of fonder times. He could not help but pause to take a deep breath, thinking of the spring festival that must have taken place recently at the feather falls. Most of the neighboring farmers would had been come. Mrs. Merryweather would always have a stall with the most delightful berry jams and sometimes even the elves of Cormanthor forest would come down to trade. This was his second year to miss it, he supposed.
The walk from this particular glade was a familiar one, Alice has always lovely to come out this way to collect flowers for her friends. According to her it was the best place for bluebell apparently. It was always a nice place to picnic of sunny days. How he had missed being here while staying in the city.
"It would be best if you stayed here with the ship Rexxor, lest everyone be more worried about a bunch of hoodlum adventurers bringing an ogre into town then about that horde. And madam. If you could, it may be best to hide those wings somehow. While I find my neighbors to not be the most skittish of peoples, your kind are most abnormal about here."
With such warnings he took the time to traded his own cloak of shimmering green dragon scale traded for a drab colorless cloak, no less enchanted but much less conspicuous. The thought of being perceived as an adventurer troubled him mildly. He spent manner years educating his darling little girl about the dangers of such a life after all. It hardly mattered now. Not in the face of such immediate danger, and Certainly not after vanishing to chase legends of a city of portals.
Once the others were ready he lead the way toward to the cluster of shops and farmsteads that passed for town. The grassy path to home was not overly difficult to pick out, though worn from slightly more then a year's passing. It does not take long to reach the edge of the little village. A decidedly rustic sort of place of thatch roofed cottages, fields and wooden barns. Quinn pauses briefly to glance toward the building before turning to an unassuming cottage on the outskirts, smoke curling from the chimney. Striding up to the door he knocks.
The walk from this particular glade was a familiar one, Alice has always lovely to come out this way to collect flowers for her friends. According to her it was the best place for bluebell apparently. It was always a nice place to picnic of sunny days. How he had missed being here while staying in the city.
"It would be best if you stayed here with the ship Rexxor, lest everyone be more worried about a bunch of hoodlum adventurers bringing an ogre into town then about that horde. And madam. If you could, it may be best to hide those wings somehow. While I find my neighbors to not be the most skittish of peoples, your kind are most abnormal about here."
With such warnings he took the time to traded his own cloak of shimmering green dragon scale traded for a drab colorless cloak, no less enchanted but much less conspicuous. The thought of being perceived as an adventurer troubled him mildly. He spent manner years educating his darling little girl about the dangers of such a life after all. It hardly mattered now. Not in the face of such immediate danger, and Certainly not after vanishing to chase legends of a city of portals.
Once the others were ready he lead the way toward to the cluster of shops and farmsteads that passed for town. The grassy path to home was not overly difficult to pick out, though worn from slightly more then a year's passing. It does not take long to reach the edge of the little village. A decidedly rustic sort of place of thatch roofed cottages, fields and wooden barns. Quinn pauses briefly to glance toward the building before turning to an unassuming cottage on the outskirts, smoke curling from the chimney. Striding up to the door he knocks.