Friends from the academy or perhaps similar apprenticeships, whatever the case, most of you have become acquainted on the road and felt strength in numbers would be a wise course of action.

Whatever the reason may be, you've all determined to answer a plea for assistance.

Attention:

Seeking to reward any who can locate a lost item and return it to my possession. Please seek out Treona for further details.
 - Location of Treona and her Tower is given.

The call to a higher purpose, perhaps glory, or fame. A method to gain a reputation for further adventures. Whatever stirs your blood, and motivates your path forward, you are going. Every journey begins with a single step, and this one is yours!


You have spent a few days on the road with like-minded individuals who share some of your ideals perhaps.

OOC: Here is your excuse to introduce your character to those who travel with you and perhaps strike up some role-playing interactions.

Movkon was fairly chatty, happy to speak to any who wanted to talk. It was clear from his mannerisms, dress and how he walked that he was more used to living in the city than the wilderness: he had never quite been able to get rid of that dockside accent he'd had as a kid.

Swift's own profession was pretty clear: he was carrying a pike and wore reinforced leather armors commonly preferred by poorer (or at least more lightly armored) fighters, and had the slim build and graceful stride of a skirmisher.

He noted some of the travellers, wondering where each of them were from, if there were any kindred spirits who had lost their home back when the goblins took over. A little payback would be nice, and he might recover something his family had left behind while he was there.

He tried not to frown around Jess. The idea of travelling with an 11-year-old disturbed him a bit. As one of many refugees, he knew just how quickly violence could end the life of the unprepared, and it was difficult to believe that an 11-year-old was prepared for the onslaught of combat. Mokvon knew he wasn't when he was that young.

Kaleas had by no means lost his homeland. He was simply far from it.

And that, or so he claimed, was by design. However long the journey, he had been tasked to Help the people of the Nentir Vale, in ways great and small. The notice put up in town had been the first thing to catch his eye, so here he was.

He looked a little more like a warrior than Mokvon, or at least like a better-outfitted one, wearing a suit of scale armor (tailored to his frame) and bearing an arming sword and light shield (currently stowed), but he made no secret of the fact that those things were secondary to his talent for runeweaving.

As for his background? He was also a city-dweller, though by no means unfamiliar with the rigors of travel, especially after that long journey to the Vale; if there was any tell-tale sign of prior social status in his accent, it was lost amidst the general foreignness of it, and perhaps a touch also amidst the forming of words from within a muzzle - though thankfully it was a clear baritone that came forth when they did, not some half-comprehensible growl.

At first glance Jessica looked like a normal, bright, freckled faced cute little 11 year old girl with long, wavy, golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She could easily be mistaken for a royal princess save for her tomboyish attire consisting of a blue shirt, brown pants, a hooded green cloak that partially concealed a backpack and a pair of well worn black boots.

But upon closer examination there are things that make her stand out. Especially when she is travelling. For one thing she does not tire easily as party travels to Lady Treona's Tower. And she seems sure of herself and very alert. She does not have a belt pouch because she keeps it deep in her backpack and she seems to have the look and feel of a seasoned traveller. This is more evident by the fact that she never strays too far from the party and always seems to maneuver herself in such a way that she is close to the center of the party as possible.

If one would have seen her a month ago you would not have thought her to be the same child. Gaunt, rail thin and with an empty look in her eyes when she first arrived in Lady Treona's Tower, she was once more full of life, energetic and fully recovered. The trip back to her former hometown invigorated her and set her on a path to recovery after her traumatic experiences in Gorizbadd. She still had nightmares though and was not sure she wanted to return to the ruined city to retrieve the stone.

Go on say it Mokvon. You don't think I should help retrieve the stone., she said, rolling her eyes in a friendly nonmocking way as if she was 'been there, done that'.

A brazier burned wood that was either too wet or too green to combust cleanly, creating smoke that seemed reluctant to ascend skyward, instead billowing around and generally making miserable the tall fellow standing near it. Holding hands out to gather a bit of warmth, the figure looked to be rather rangy and under-fed. Ragged-looking furs covered similarly dubious hide armor. A quiver of long arrows and a worn bow were slung over his shoulder. His footwear were also of hide, hair on, tall forest boots that looked to be in need of repair. His black hair was wild and needed a good trimming. His golden eyes were those of a predator.

The chill from the previous day had yet to leave him. An accident by the river had caused him to nearly drown, but worse yet, the furs he'd been collecting had washed downstream and over the falls. He'd lost a month's worth of work in a few short, dangerous moments. It was a loss he could not afford.

He'd seen the advertisement and thought perhaps that such a chore would net him enough coin to cover his losses. He hadn't counted on so many people responding to the call. He watched as they approached, too tired and cold to be on edge, but wary nonetheless.

They were a strange group, but one caught his attention more than the others... A shiver climbed his spine like a mountaineer ascending a frozen waterfall.

He stepped back from the brazier a half-step and indicated there was room if they wished to join. It was the most friendly thing he'd done in months.

Mokvon shrugged at the girl.

"On the contrary. I would be happy for your help retrieving the stone...
in about five years when you were grown.

Of course, no one asked my opinion till now.

If it's any consolation, I wouldn't have taken myself at your age either."

He made his way over to the man who had the look of someone used to the wilderness and warmed his hands a bit. You didn't want your hands numbed when wielding a pike.

It was good to travel with at least a few woodsy people. He wasn't totally helpless out here, but he'd spent most of his life learning a different set of survival skills.

"Good to have someone who's prepared for the wild.

He had absolutely no idea what to say to the armored wolf-man, but gave a polite nod indicating his presence. He was no diplomat, but you'd best be polite when you were a professional.

Kaleas inclined his head slightly as he regarded the wild-looking huntsman. The fellow's reaction was laced with ill-concealed... tension? excitement? fear? A little of each, it seemed, but the why of it was unclear. That it seemed to be focused on him even more so. There was little time to dwell on the question, however, as another matter came under debate.

"What stone are we retrieving, and where are we retrieving it from?" The conversation between the pikeman and the child had just revealed something of the nature of the item that Treona wished retrieved - the notice hadn't been specific on that point - but ordinary rock-hunting would hardly call for such capabilities as had been gathered. Kaleas looked at Mokvon and Jessica alike, but his eyes finally settled on the latter, about whom a third point had just been openly raised. "And, leaving aside whether you should, why do you want to do this?"

His helmet may have slightly shrouded his expression, but both it and his tone were even, not condescending. A child, even a magically-gifted child, seemed like an odd choice to send into danger, but perhaps Treona subscribed to the trial-by-fire philosophy of wizardly apprenticeship?
This message was last edited by the player at 09:39, Sun 09 Jan 2022.

Zur stepped forward to light a taper from the brazier and then applied that to his pipe, stoking the tobacco within.

"All for Treona, to decide, eh?" inclining his red-haired head, now sans helmet, toward the girl.  "Manyatimes, people aren't what they seem, and ofttimes have qualities that are unknown - soometimes even to them.  I wager this little one has lots we don't know yet.  Besides - I could practically fit her in me shield - and still wield it!" He guffaws some. "My story is similar.  I didn't have much direction before.  I was supposed to be a priest but never really grabbed me.  By brother wasn't, but it did.  Then his temple got raided.  He's missing.  Should it have been me?  Hard to know.  It was in the looking for him that I picked up my first real skills in fightin'.  I've a lot to learn, but my knack for it's surprising to me sometimes, and that's the truth."  He takes another pensive puff.  "I like helping people, in me own way."