Vast Expectations (Part 1)
Log Info
- Title: Vast Expectations, part 1
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Faranmidahn, Paenitia, Jinks, Razen, Edinaz
- Place: The Vast
- Time: Monday, January 10, 2022, 8:45 PM
- Summary: Adventurers, led by Farland, head to the Vast to meet with the Phurai Dae. They arrive, and are met, but not by the ones they expect.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Faranmidahn 3'3" 35 Lb Halfling Female Albino Lucht woman. Knight of Spiders. So, SO Fluffy. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Airships! You're on one of two, actually, and you're headed towards the Vast. Griva Brassbringer has made a request and the Guild is doing its level best to do what she's asked.
The Seas of Sundered time are a location where the concept of time itself is ... porous and broken. Legends of gateways to other times, of people being thought lost for decades and reappearing, of famed battles pouring out onto its fields before vanishing, are common of this place. While few travel there for obvious reasons aside from the Phurai Dae peoples -- who you're on your way to meet.
Griva's sudden interest in time is probably not a surprise to at least some people present, but the Resurrectionist seems to think that there might be something amiss with and that a a study of the Sea, a place where time is already reportedly damaged, might give some information.
That's why Farland, her right-hand gnome, is accompanying you. The pleasently dressed gnome seems to be in a cheerful mood, enjoying the Airship's breeze as you come across the great grasslands of the Vast.
Razen has returned from his homeland looking a bit... bulkier. Taller. More muscular. He hasn't been in Alexandria in some time, but he's always willing to aid a quest. Even if that quest means going somewhere so obviously magical. A thing which he seems somewhat trepidioius about. Still the ourch stands ready, his hand not far from his weapons.
Emerging from belowdecks after seeing that a certain place in the hold is ready for her dear friend should the need arise, Sir Faranmidahn makes her way out to regard the wild expanses spreading out before them with a sort of wonder, a hand over her heart, even as the other clutches prudently at the safety rails.
"I've heard tales of this place since I was a little girl, but I'd never dreamed it looking like this...!" she remarks softly.
Training behind the albino lucht Knight, is a dark haired, dark skinned lucht Knight in Red Armour. Her dear friend, Ramirez, is also safely below in the hold. He has proven useful on airships before.
"I read of it too, when I am the little girl. The view is amazing, yes." Dame Paenitia joins Sir Faranmidahn.
Lysos stands hear the port side of the upper deck, one hand clutching a shawl about her shoulders, the other holding a railing to keep her steady as her face is held slighly raised, eyes closed, breathing in as the wind whips by. A small smile is on her face.
Farland is talking to one of the sailors. From the gist of the conversation, what anyone can hear over the wind rushing the deck, is that you seem to be nearing a destination. the vast is not named ironically. It really is exactly that: fields as far as the eye can see. The airship begins to descend, eventually coming to a rest cleanly in one said expanse of grassland. A herd of wild cattle is in the distance and no doubt there are countless other creatures in the tall grass you can't see just yet.
"Now we wait. We're in the proper area. The horsemen should arrive eventually from ... some direction. They just told us where to be and these are the coordinates, so let's disembark and stretch our legs. Well, those of you taller than me can disembark. I'd get lost in the grass." He leans over the railing to look.
Despite the offer to disembark, Razen does not. Instead he moves to stand beside Farland and tries to clasp the much smaller man on the shoulder. His voice when it comes a moment later is deep and heavily accented by his native tongue which it seems that he has been speaking more of lately. "I will not abandon you! We stand together in waiting." He flashes a fang and tusk-filled grin.
"Aha! I will abandon you Farland, like I have before." Paenitia cheerfully calls out, immediately heading for the hold and then going through the long procedure to bring out Ramirez.
Horsemen are coming! The halfling will meet them with her half-horse. Once outside, brave Ramirez struts about through the long grass, his Mistress happily on his back and watching the horizon.
A word and a gesture, Lysos moving her hand in a circular motion, her finger trailing as if she were tracing a circle in a pool of water.. a small, transluscent disk appears, which sinks down to a few feet off of the deck, and then expands. "If you wish, Farland, standing on this might keep you and anyone else who would like to use it above the grass." Offer taken, or not, she shortly joins in disembarking to meet the oncoming riders.
GAME: Lysos casts Floating Disk. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18
Faranmidahn eyes her fellow Knight curiously in the wake of that exchange, but shrugs and follows the Dame down into the hold.
She, in time, returns astride her beloved Torrent, the mansized Huntsman gleaming black with polished barding.
Once the cavliers have found themselves amongst the grass sans gnolls, she turns to Paenitia and wonders, "Should we fly pennants for this, do you think?" <halfling>
Distracted making friends belowdecks (this always happens on airships) the bejeweled gnome is a bit late to the party. But fresh now-- washed and re-perfumed-- he finds the sunlight and fresh out at the top of the stairs. He has a shawl, too, and a verdant green coat trimmed in a matte-bronze. Brass fasteners dangle from the open coat and his jewels are mainly of golds and emeralds. The bard loves a good flight and he draws in a deep breath with one hand on his coat and the other resting on his rapier's basket.
"We're here already? My goodness, time flies as well as we do." Polished knee-high boots clack across the deck and he gives Resurrectionist Person a bracing grip at the shoulders from behind. "Hello Farland! I missed you at the meeting the other night-- the whole place was filthy with tallmen! Were you hurt we didn't talk more during the celebration for a new year? I was distracted; a thousand apologies." Glittering fingers pat his fellow's back and he puckers a kiss into the air.
A pause to scan the grass from the ship, sucking at his teeth when he espies a few familiar faces. "... did you bring the whole Guild, Farland? This is quite the headcount."
"Yes, that is the good idea." Paenitia replies to the other cavalier. She turns in her seat, then pulls her banner up. Her pennant flaps in the wind, a white pillar on a red field, with a white hippogryph above it. <halfling>
'Ruaaaah!' Ramirez knows what this means. He boldly starts to dance, shaking his hind-quarters and rattling a tail-fan of fifteen foot feathers with crimson eyespots. He is of course, half-bird, and of the sort that has enough majesty for a whole beast.
"We go to the place of broken time," the Red Knight answers Jinks, with a laugh in her voice, "it make sense we are both early and late."
GAME: Razen rolls perception: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (13)+8: 21 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+5: (17)+5: 22 (Ramirez Perception) GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (3)+7: 10 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls perception: (12)+4: 16 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls 1d20+3: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL) (Torrent Perception) GAME: Lysos rolls perception: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
Similarly, Faran twists to retrieve some articles from her saddlebags and spends a few more moments affixing them to her lance, which she stands aloft: The gold trimmed white banner framing the Purple Rose of her Order, with a smaller beneath; a white spider camping out on a field of purple.
The albino rests to some level of formal alert, as her eyes sweep the grassy waves around them.
Securing the immediate area around the airship isn't that hard and is still important to do. Tall grass has to be knocked down so that nothing can sneak onto the ship while you wait, for exaple. There's no promise that the Phurai Dae you're to meet will be here anytime soon, so you could be waiting a while. Hours, really, but at least you'll see them coming from further away.
Lysos, of course, finds a rodent den. A large rodent den. By falling into it. She is able to climb out with at least some of her dignity in tact.
Faran vanishes into the tall grass and emerges covered in insect bites. She disturbed ... something.
The rest are able to navigate the grass and help tamp it down without difficulty.
Razen, unhelpfully to the endevor to tramp down the grass, stays on the ship. With Farland. As he promised. He's an ourch of his word after all. He does call out a few words of helpful advice however. "Do not get lost in there!" Helpful.
Ramirez and Paenitia have more luck, tramping down grass in ever widening circles until a small area has been flattened. They take breaks, launching into the sky, to see and to be seen, but they never venture far from the airship.
"Sir Faranmidahn, I have the so many tales to tell. I spend the week which was the months in Veyshan, and the troubador over there, I fight with him against a Wyvern! He is as strong as the small pony horse, he take so much poison."
There is some chirps of dismay, some hissed halfling curses, and the sound of slaping before the albino emerges from the green sea with her new rash.
She may decide she doesn't like grass at this rate.
As it is, she looks toward Paenitia, "Oh? We shall have to trade stories once we've finished our tasks, I'd love to hear more about it."
Any chance to learn, after all.
Jinks pats Farland again and moves to the railing of the ship, hopping up and sitting astride as he watches the others below. He grins and nods at Paenitia, waving to the others, and takes a moment to fish out a little mint leaf to chew on.
"We need not recall that particular adventure." The bejeweled dandy calls from above, tracing movement through the grass with his solid-black eyes. "Tripping my own foot and catching that stinger in my shoulder was unpleasant enough... seeing the doors into the Harpist's foyer open up was an experience I'd not soon replicate.
"But it did afford me a chance to meet Wilrikintor. And that was nice..." A dramatic little sigh before, "even if that song is already sung."
"Okay, that story I will not share." Paenitia says cheerfully, then adds, "I have a terrible time down the well."
She guides Ramirez up beside Torrent and looks over at Faranmidahn, "What did you get into? You are fine now?"
With some time spent, between the various people doing their work on tamping down grass and more, you eventually have a lovely view of the immediate area around the airship and a clear view should anything try to sneak up on you. That's the important bit, of cvourse, and as it turns out totally unncessary at the moment. After four or so hours of waiting, you see a cloud in the distance. The approach of horsemen, it would appear, trampling the tall grass themselves. That far out, you have some time before they'll get here.
After several hours of waiting, Ramirez's enthusiastic prancing has died down. He's returned his tail to a rest position and has swept the area with it a few times. Paenitia's saddle is comfortabe, and she's used to being in it for hours, but even so there is a little slump to her statue. Her lances are in their sheaths, her shield slung, and she has shared some of her recent adventures with Faranmidahn, only occasionally asking for the gnome to back her up or elaborate.
Then, she notices the distant trampling.
Faranmidahn sighs softly in the aftermath once all the tamping and swatting are done. Alas, she doesn't recognize the microfauna that had so troubled her in the grasses, but she joined in tale telling about brighter days, as well as some troubling ones.
The Horn of Gilead story is a favorite of hers, perhaps, for it comes freely with none of the subtle weight of some of her other adventures.
As the cloud rises in the distance, she glances to her companions and wonders, "Who would speak for us, then?"
Probably best to have that worked out ahead of time.
"Oh, don't worry about that," replies Farland to Farnmidahn, "I've a prior arrangement with the Dae. It'll be fine. I'll talk."
He waves his hands in the air, a big grin at Jinks. It's always good to have another gnome around.
Smelling of bathwater and lavender (with minty breath to boot), Jinks finally quits the airship and puts feet to solid ground after the grass has been good and tamped. The longer they wait the more tempted he is to return to the ship and venture belowdecks but he keeps professional. Relatively speaking.
The gnome didn't bring Neighsayers, no, as he's unsure how the pony would do on an airship. It seemed smarter to wait for a shorter ride to test the waters. Well... currents.
So, he's on foot! The bard listens to the stories with an easy smile, having a few of his own that don't involve being nearly too-weak to breathe. The mention of Gilead conjures an odd little smile; the Hunter's agents (avatars?) just wore his body like a handpuppet not three weeks ago...
When the call is given that a group approaches he sniffs and abandons his illusions, the fine green coat shifting through the spectrum of light and going bulkier until it's his studded doublet. He's still fancy but doesn't quite look ready to ball at the governor's manse. He takes the buckler off the hook it dangles from and straps it to a forearm, then checks the release on his bow's harness.
A grin at Farland and the gnome steps back and to one side, crossing his arms.
GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (10)+7: 17 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls perception: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls 1d20+3: (12)+3: 15 (Torrent Perception) GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (15)+8: 23 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 (Ramirez Perception)
The Red Knight and the gnome have a slightly better look at the riders through the dust. Those are not the Phurai Dae. For one, thats not horses! Nope, its a large number of humanoid shapes, large ones, running on all fours through the grass. All long, ropey and scaled limbs.
GAME: Jinks rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (15)+12: 27
The Red Knight stands on her saddle, giving herself a whole extra foot of elevation. She has no need to shade her eyes, the wide brimmed hat that's part of her helm does that. Her visor, the ever grinning visage of the Smiling Man, seems oddly eager for the engagement. She gets a better look.
"That not the Phurai Dae. Those, they are not horses. They are the large, humanoid shapes, the great number of them. I do not recognize, not Friend Dragons nor the Flat Dragons."
She drops back down into her saddle, and pulls a lance, facing her comrades, "They run on all fours through the grass, with the long, ropey and scaled limbs. Farland, you should not be the one in front. I will get ready to give them the big Hola."
Jinks has found a good-sized mound to climb and narrow his eyes, following the direction indicated from the ship. The gnome's lip curls and he pulls loose his bow from its harness. "Giants!" he spits. The literal translation: 'the tall-enemy.' <gnomish>
"Giants," adds the bard in the trade tongue. It's clear there's a bit of good old racially-motivated hatred brewing up. And just when he was getting past his biases with lizards, too!
"Trolls!" To be specific.
