#silverbeard the dragon

[space-salaman]

[at] when your pets photobomb you

doodle trade with @/yote ! limmy the robot evaline his mechanic and limmy but cowboy AU

[nma] and yote's part of the trade, it's admiral silverbeard and his pet!

[pixelatedrose]

FINALLY DONE!!! I know they’re not all digitized, but honestly idc bc it's already taken me a month do do all of this

I present to you!!! The Weave of Silence party in full!!! (Technically I'm missing a member but she just joined so don't hate on me)

In order, we have:

Callahan McBlithe!!! A dwarf sorcerer and my character!!

Montgomery (Monty) Silverbeard!! A human artificer who seems to be related to Callahan somehow- at least that's what we're told...

Sylas Valor!! An aasimar cleric who's been hearing more than just his father's voice, as of late.

Lord Becket!! A changeling assassin who doesn't seem to have much empathy for his companions.

And Haru!! An elf fighter/dragon rider, who has a young silver dragon companion, Archion, and has a secret that he's only told to someone [he thought was] close to him; he's made a deal with Remmy.

[phiillii]

floating in a most peculiar way

Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles I'm feeling very still

- David Bowie, Space Oddity

-----

The days bleed into nights bleed into days. It's always hot and humid, even when the sun goes down. His skin is red from sunburn and constant mosquito bites. He's thirsty, so very thirsty, but he can't drink the river water, he knows, and waits for the next rainfall. He's hungry too, but half the animals here are undead, the other half too quick for him, and half of the plants poisonous, the other half unknown. This is not Chad's first time in the wilderness, but his first in a wilderness so foreign to everything he's ever known.

He sits on Stacy's back and talks to her when he's not hunting for food or water. He tells her stories, about everything and nothing. He tells her of his family, back home, a sister he hasn't seen in ages, a mother he misses, a father towering over him. He tells her of food back home, black banana bread, rat sausage, where to find the best nuts and the best mushrooms. He tells her of music, of the music he used to listen to as a child, of bards and their songs, a million rhymes he remembers from his youth. He tells her of the people, those with him and those against him, and of blood covering the floor and of cheering still ringing loudly in his ears. He tells her of his adventures, the small ones and the grand ones, of the people he's saved and even of those he hasn't saved, of those who ran from him and those he ran from, the dragons he's slain and the maidens he's rescued, the kings he's beheaded and those he's kissed, of demons he's fought with and heroes he's drunk with, of mountains he's climbed and of valleys he's passed, of volcanoes he's fought and of gods he's embraced. He tells her of children dancing in the rain and of fools and of fools' gold and of broadswords too heavy for him, of alley fights and of red wax on parchment, of gold cords and raised eyebrows, of pleasant smiles and frightened stares. He tells her of hiding in shadows from good men and of chasing evil men beneath the sun and one time, he even tells her of the woman that died in his arms.

Stacy doesn't answer at first, but after two weeks in the jungle all alone, she does. Chad wonders how he has ever been so dumb not to understand her. She may not speak Common or Dwarvish, but she speaks in her own way. She neighs, almost like a horse, when she's amused, and growls when his stories anger her, and then he usually laughs amicably and throws up his hands, and that usually pacifies her. She begins to tell stories too, he thinks one night after he eats a bunch of mushrooms that don't sit quite right in his stomach. About the time she spent in her egg, about how horrible her previous owners were with her, about how happy she is to be traveling with him now, discovering the jungle, this place where she belongs. He cries a bit after she tells him of that and embraces her neck, because he has never felt so understood by another living creature, because they’re both young and ready for the world and willing to move mountains, and he throws up half an hour later, and when he wakes the next morning he's drenched in sweat.

He begins to show her the paper every day, the list with the group of adventurers he's looking for. He's got it all memorized so well he doubts he'll ever forget it by now. The two priests of Athena, Alexandros and Fenchel, Human and Tiefling. The Tabaxi called Timber, a born troublemaker, or so he's heard. The Tortle Fischbrötchen, the Human nobleman Vincent Valorstone, Eldryan the drow. Moggy, of course. Sometimes, when he's tired of talking with Stacy, he takes out the list and imagines talking to them, all of them, how that will be like. He'll talk to Alexandros and Fenchel about their goddess,  and he'll ask them all about her, and maybe he'll even feign being willing to convert? But then, of course, he'll make it clear that the only god he follows is – hmm – maybe Silverbeard, God of Battle? That sounds about right. Or maybe a Human god? But he doesn't know many of them. Timber, he's sure she can tell stories and songs, just like the bards of his hometown, and hey – who knows – maybe she can even sing a song about him one day. Fischbrötchen, he can talk to about nature and people of nature, surely, and Vincent Valorstone might be receptive to great points about how unjust the existence of nobility truly is! Eldryan – drow, or half-drow, which was it again? - that is an entire untapped reservoir of great stories right there, isn't it? He'll have so much to tell Chad, no doubt about it. And Moggy – well – Chad has to chuckle when he thinks about what she'll say when she hears his voice. He practices that, sometimes. “Hello Moggy, long time no see!” he’ll say, grinning widely, and she’ll be angry with him, probably, but not for long, huh?

He starts to tell Stacy about all these people as if he's known them for ages. He collects new flowers for his beard, some he's never seen before. They wouldn't recognize him back home anymore, he realizes one day when he looks at himself in a puddle. His skin is ruddy, peeling to reveal freckles where he's never seen them before, his hair has grown out considerably from the almost bald head he's worn the last few years, and even his eyes seem different than before. His eyes! Were they always so bright? He asks Stacy. “Stacy, were my eyes always this bright?” He wasn't made for the jungle. He was made for wide fields, wheat plains, small hidey-holes, richly furnished palaces, wooden huts, stone halls larger than the sky, labyrinthine alleys and silent moonless nights. Jingle of gold coins on cobblestones. Ink on parchment. Songs in an inn. That's what he was made for. Not this deadly jungle.

Chad wants to go home, he realizes suddenly, he wants to run back home and he wants to cry and he wants his mom and he wants to hide and he - -

He doesn’t want to die in this horrible, horrible, horrible place - -

“Yes,” Stacy replies quietly, dragging him out of his thoughts. Chad shrugs. So his eyes really are brighter these days. This jungle changes you, huh.

He's stopped counting the days when, one morning, he arrives at the lost city. Omu lies before him, quiet and not moving but for a flock of pigeons. He feels a bit better here, looking out at the city. Walking through the entrance arch, he quickly finds some scribbles at a wall, compares them with the crumpled, sweated-through list in his pocket. They're here. He's found them, finally.

He pushes the list back into his pocket and faces Omu.

[rookie-dm-disasters]

Chapter 10: Feast of Fortunes

Argibold sat with the party in the basement of their tavern. The party provided with Argibold with a brief synopsis of the adventure they had been sent on. The town called Tammel was now safe from goblin threats thanks to a wizard who had made an enchanted orb to keep evil at bay. Argibold held a blank stare while they relayed this information. He didn’t give much of an indication he was really listening, but he seemed to be absorbing the information all the same. After the briefing of the mission itself, Niama concluded by, “There were also mentions of a war currently happening to the north in a city called Storm Hold. We were wondering if you might want us to check into it.” Argibold’s eyes widened only slightly at the sound of the name of the city, Storm Hold. “Yes. I’ll look into it an see if you should go and help or not.” He looked to be lost in thought. Something clearly bothered him, which was odd. Pumpeck was the one that picked up on his unease the most. She leaned in on her seat and asked, “Is there something you want to tell us about this place?” Argibold blinked a few times and his face returned to its usual neutral position. “Anything I want to tell you? No. Though I suppose there are a few things I should tell you.” He hopped down from his seat and walked slowly to the back of the basement where the suit of armor was held. “Storm Hold is a city that is familiar to me. I lived there for a short while. My best friend, Tungdil Silverbeard, was from there. He and I were a two-person adventuring party. Him, with his raw physical prowess, and me, with my knowledge of the arcane. There wasn’t a single task the two of us couldn’t accomplish when we worked together.” Argibold now stood in front of the armor. The party couldn’t see the sorrow in his eyes with his back turned to them. “He died on our last quest. His home city, Storm Hold was attacked by a dragon ten years ago. It was in that battle I lost my arm, and Tungdil sacrificed himself so that I may live.” He lifted his viscous purple arm to gesture to the golden suit of armor emblazoned with red flames. “This armor is now all I have to remember him by. His weapons were buried with him, as is customary for the warriors of Storm Hold.” Thorfreyer shook his head. “You had us fight a suit of armor that belongs to your dead friend?” Argibold shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose I missed watching him fight. Watching the armor move like he did brings me back to better times.” Thorfreyer walked towards Argibold. “Was there” he paused. Not sure if he wanted to ask. “Was there something romantic going on there?” There was a brief silence until they heard a small sniff come from Argibold. He turned around and said, “I tell you this, so you know Storm Hold holds a special place in my heart. Though, I fear I may not be able to return there myself. Storm Hold resents me, believing I was not worth the sacrifice of their hero. They all believe I should be dead while Tungdil should be alive. If they could kill me and bring him back, they would.” His head lowered and he said to himself. “And I don’t entirely disagree.” Niama stood now and said, “Would you like us to make our way to Storm Hold to help?” Argibold shook his head. “Not yet. We need more information on what’s happening before I send you there. For now, go do as you will while Faelyn and I do what we can to discover more about what is happening.” The party broke off and wet upstairs to leave Argibold to his research. Pumpeck lingered and watched Argibold begin to scurry through various books. He quickly seemed to be back to his regular self. Pumpeck walked over to him as he grabbed several books from a nearby bookshelf. “Argibold?” “Yes, Pumpeck?” “What exactly are you going to do to learn about the situation if you can’t go there yourself?” Argibold held up some of the books he grabbed. “Divination magic, mostly. I admit it’s not my specialty, but I should be able to learn a great deal. If push comes to shove, I’ll send Faelyn there physically to do recon in the city.” Pumpeck nodded. “I see.” She waited a moment. “Argibold?” “Yes, Pumpeck?” Pumpeck held her eyes to the floor, unsure of what to say. “Are you okay? Do you need to talk about what happened to your friend?” Argibold stopped what he was doing and froze where he stood. It wasn’t something he had ever really talked about with anyone. The only people that knew were the people of Storm Hold, and they all thought it was his fault. Argibold turned his head to look at Pumpeck. She could see his eyes had a peculiar sheen to them. “Talking about it won’t bring him back.” Pumpeck realized that this was something he didn’t want to talk about. It did happen a decade ago after all. He probably already came to terms with it. But, there still seemed to be lingering problems in his head that Pumpeck couldn’t quite figure out. She decided to leave the topic alone for now and head up to bed. On her way up, she looked into the tap room to see the jovial crowd. Niama and Thorfreyer had joined in at this point and had their own drinks. Pumpeck went over in sat with them as they watched Willow perform. She hopped up and sat on a stool next to them. “How is he?” She asked the table. Niama shrugged her shoulders. “He’s actually not that bad, considering how much of a pompous prick he is.” Thorfreyer laughed. “You’re actually just in time. We just ordered some tomatoes.” Pumpeck perked up a little. “Oh, I love tomatoes!” Right on cue, a hand full of tomatoes floated on to the table, held by an unseen servant that now enchanted the tavern. Thorfreyer shook his head. “I’ll never get used to that.” Niama picked up a tomato and tossed it a few times, testing its weight. “Get over it. Just get a few and start throwing.” Niama and Thorfreyer started throwing the tomatoes at Willow while he preformed on the small stage. Laughter erupted as his white leathers were slowly but surely stained red. Pumpeck reached and grabbed a tomato and started eating it like an apple, sucking out the juices with each bite. Willow, humiliated by the display ran off the stage and upstairs, presumably to his room. On his way up the stairs, Thorfreyer threw one last fruit at the musician with such force, that when it hit him in the ankle, his legs were thrown out from under him. He tumbled back down to the bottom of the stairs and lay still for a while. The whole crowd laughing at his misfortune. Pumpeck looked at Niama and Thorfreyer. “Why did you do that to him?” Niama scoffed. “He got in the way of our last mission. He made it significantly more difficult than it needed to be, so now I’m making his life more difficult than it needs to be, at least for a while.” Pumpeck shook her head and looked to Thorfreyer who shrugged his shoulders at her. “I just thought it would be funny.” He smirked. Pumpeck shook her head and sighed. She felt bad for Willow deep down. She knows that he was in the way when they tried to save Nariel, but he wasn’t a bad guy. When he stepped between Nariel and the party, he truly believed that he was protecting her from kidnappers. He showed courage and loyalty towards Nariel, even if it was an arranged marriage. He didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting now. Pumpeck hopped off her chair and walked to wear Willow ad fallen, he wasn’t horribly injured, but a fall like that wouldn’t feel good. She placed her hands on his back and healed the wounds he received. Upon being healed, Willow looked up to Pumpeck and quickly shoved her hands off of him. He stood and said “You’re the one who cut off my hand aren’t you? I don’t want any help from you, you’ve done enough to me.” He bolted up the stairs so fast, he didn’t get a chance to hear Pumpeck say, “I’m sorry.”

The next morning the party gathered downstairs to discuss their plans for the day. They didn’t have a mission ready to go, and Argibold was still looking into the war in the north. Niama posed an idea to them all. “Since we don’t have a job, why don’t we take Argus up on that dinner offer?” “Who?” Said Pumpeck. “Argus.” Niama responded. “The banker we saved in the forest when we were on our way to save Nariel. He said he would treat us to a feast as gratitude.” Thorfreyer stood up and clapped his hands together. “Well, if it’s free food we get, I’m in.” Niama recalled that Argus wanted to be informed no later than the morning of their arrival. She set about writing a missive to send to the Baramore estate. With the letter sent, all that was left was to make preparations, and wait until dinner time. Rum looked Thorfreyer up and down and said, “Maybe we should go out and get you some clothes. I don’t think showing up in a ratty pants and no shirt would reflect well on our group.” Thorfreyer looked down to his minimal clothing and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is what all the warriors in my home village wear.” Nariel had been holding her tongue on the matter, but the way Thorfreyer dressed had bothered her for quite some time now. Though, she did grow up in a castle where everyone was always properly dressed. She supposed she might have some bias on the matter. She walked over to Thorfreyer and pointed a finger at him. “That doesn’t matter. We aren’t in your village and the way you dress isn’t fit for dinner at a mansion.” Thorfreyer rolled his eyes. “What do you want from me, pointy ears?” Nariel’s face turned red. “I want you to put some damn clothes on!” “Seconded.” Said Niama, nodding her head. Thorfreyer sighed. “I don’t get what the big deal is. I’m covered in fur. It’s not like I’m naked.” Nariel pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s not the point.” Her eyes widened and she looked to Niama. “Is Faelyn here?” Niama squinted. “Why would I know that?” Nariel, without saying another word, ran upstairs. The rest of the party watched in bewilderment as she did so, unsure of what to make of the elves’ actions. They were lost in such confusion, that as quickly as she had left, she returned and was pulling Faelyn by the wrist, saying “Just come on, I think you can help us out here.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and Faelyn said, “Yeah, no, that’s great. Love being man handled in the morning. What can I do you for?” Nariel gestured to Thorfreyer. “You’re a wizard, right? Can you conjure clothes for him to wear?” “Well” Said Faelyn. “I am an illusionist. Conjuration magic isn’t exactly my major. I can make it look like he is wearing clothes.” “That might work.” “For an hour.” “Yeah, I don’t think that will work.” Nariel scratched her chin a moment. “I would really like to do this without spending money, but we may not have a choice. Could you illusion some clothes onto him just so we know what to buy him?” Faelyn blinked a couple times. This, typically, was not the sort of task his magic was used for, but practice was practice he supposed. He unlatched his staff from a strap around his back and pointed it at Thorfreyer. The minotaur’s eyes narrowed ad he said, “Better not try any funny business.” “Relax. Even if I wanted to hurt you, worst I could do is throw a mote of fire at you, and honestly, I don’t want the tap room to smell like burnt hair. Now hold still. At worst, this may tickle a little.” Faelyn drew a sigil in the air that glowed a sky blue. Within a second, the party saw that Thorfreyer was now wearing a full suit, complete with a vest and bow tie. They stared, stunned that Thorfreyer could pull off a suit surprisingly well.   “Want me to play with the colors a bit?” asked Faelyn. Thorfreyer looked down and saw that the whole suit was black, but the vest and tie were blue. “Change it to green.”  At his request, Faelyn snapped his fingers and the blue changed to green. Nariel clapped her hands together and had a big grin on her face. “Oh, it looks perfect. Let’s go into the city and find something just like that.” Thorfreyer stepped forward, dispelling the illusion. “I don’t think there is anywhere in this city that makes suits for minotaurs.” Faelyn shrugged. “Minotaurs, no. But there is a tailor that specializes in making clothes for monsters. She is a goblin who operated in the south part of the market district.” “A goblin is living in the city and has a clothes store?” Asked Thorfreyer. “Just because she’s a goblin, doesn’t mean she’s evil. I pass by the shop on my way to black staff tower. She seems nice enough.” Said Faelyn Thorfreyer looked to the rest of the party who were giving him disapproving looks. He wanted to fight them on it, but he figured it wasn’t a fight worth having. He would go along with it and wear the suit for dinner and go back to being himself once it had concluded. He didn’t like the idea of playing along, but some battles were not worth having. The group left the Dusty Dunes to search of the tailor Faelyn had mentioned. Faelyn remained at the tavern, explaining that he has a report due at the end of the week. The party enjoyed their walk through the cobble stone streets of Waterdeep. Despite it being their home, it wasn’t too often that they got out and experienced the city itself. Every street had citizens roaming about, each one intent on living their lives. It did always baffle them as well how diverse the people of the city were. Within a single minute it was possible to see dwarves, elves, humans, and races of all shapes and sizes, all agreeing to live together in peace and harmony despite their differences. This high threshold for the odd is what led Thorfreyer to this city in the first place. He loved to fight, but he wasn’t a trouble maker and if one did not cause trouble in Waterdeep, you were left alone for the most part. Being turned into a minotaur had been hard on him at first. Every town he went to greeted him with torches and pitchforks and living in isolation in the wilderness would be enough to ware down anyone’s psyche given enough time. He was glad to have found a home in Waterdeep after years of wandering. At the corner of Dagger Run Road, the party saw a sign hanging above a building, which read, “Taylor’s Tailor.” And the sign was cut to look like the head of a goblin. As they got closer, they could see in through the window various clothes of all sorts of sizes. Even a jacket that could fit a troll if it were so inclined. They nodded at each other and walked in, figuring they had the right location. As they passed through the threshold of the door, a small bell rang above their head and they heard a small voice yell from the back of the store, “I’ll be with you in just a moment. Fell free to browse while you wait.” The party started wondering, hoping to find something that could fit Thorfreyer’s build, and by fortune, the sections were labelled by creature type. They started to look through the variety of creatures this goblin made clothes for. Goblin (obviously), Troll, Ogre, Hill Giant, Orc. This place really did have something for everyone. After a bit of browsing, a tiny goblin made her way from the back of the room. She was immaculately dressed, wearing a gorgeous red dress and a hat topped with feathers. “Greetings,” She said with a curtsy. “My name is Taylor. How can I help you today?” Nariel curtsied in response and said, “We have an important dinner tonight and was wondering if you made anything that could fit a minotaur.” Gesturing to Thorfreyer. Taylor smiled and gave a nod. “Absolutely. Making clothes for minotaur is easy enough. Just a muscular human type fit, then size it up a lot. Looking for anything specific?” The party described the illusory suit Thorfreyer had worn back at the tavern while Taylor listened intently. She nodded and said, “I believe I have just the thing for you.” she walked over to a section labelled “Minotaur” and started sifting through the clothes. It was odd for the rest of the party to see the proportions. The pants being far too small to match the size of the torso. And, were those horn warmers they just saw? Taylor finally settled on a suit and brought it to Thorfreyer. She urged him to go to the changing room to try it on and he did just that, not understanding why he couldn’t change where he stood. After a few moments, he emerged and looked just as sharp and dashing as the illusion had advertised it would make him. The party decided to purchase the suit for Thorfreyer so that they would be sure he would be appropriately dress for dinner. After a brief exchange and a transfer of 30 gold pieces, the party was ready to depart. Before they left, Niama approached the small goblin and asked “If you don’t me asking, why are you doing this? Making clothes for monsters in a city like Waterdeep seems odd.” Taylor responded with a smile. Her head turned, scanning her inventory. With a soft sigh, she looked back to Niama. “Those who are considered monsters like me don’t have much of a place in this city. They say it’s a city for all, but those like me and my friends are still seen for what we’ve always been seen: monsters. I wanted to create a place where those like me don’t have to worry about being treated unfairly for who they are. This is a place where anyone can come and feel welcome and feel like they are a part of this society.” Niama stopped to consider. Since coming to Waterdeep, she had seen tremendous acts of kindness that she didn’t know could be possible. Pumpeck, who was so pure of heart, this goblin going out of her way to make the disenfranchised feel welcome, and even Thorfreyer who always stood up for his friends when they needed him. Back home, these acts were not common place. Ever even heard of, really. Though, looking back, she never gave the people from her home much of a chance. Growing up with her mother was difficult. The people believed her mother a witch and that Niama herself was a monster. Maybe, if her home had a place like this, things would have turned out differently. She looked to Taylor and said, “What you’re doing here is admirable. I wish you luck.” Taylor nodded and said “Thank you” With that, Niama left with the party to make preparations for dinner. The day of shopping itself lasted most of the day. The party only had a brief amount of time back at the tavern. They quickly got dressed and made their way out of the tavern on the road to the Baramore estate. As they approached their destination, the buildings became steadily larger and more spread out, even the materials changing from wood work to more stone work houses. Noticing this, they presumed that the rich enjoyed their space. While walking, a bird fluttered down to land on Niama’s shoulder. It was a small bird that looked like a finch. The only oddity being that it had four legs, instead of the standard two. Niama stared for a moment and the bird stared back. She knew that there were spells that allowed people to converse with animals. She decided to see if she could pull it off, knowing now that she could create some form of magical influence on the world. She focused her intent on the bird and tried to understand what it was saying, and an incantation came from within her. She spoke aloud an incantation and could suddenly hear words from the bird. It looked at her and said. “You, are not a tree. You smelled of trees.” Niama opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “No. No, I am not a tree.” “Why do you carry the essence of trees?” “Well, I grew up in a forest and lived in a tree.” “You are wise to do so. Trees are wonderful homes.” While this exchange happened, the party looked at Niama, who was currently tweeting at a strange bird on her shoulder. “Do you want to stay on my shoulder?” She asked, hoping she could make friends with this creature. The bird pondered a moment. “Hmm. I do like trees. You are like a tree. And like trees as well. This arrangement is acceptable.” “Uhh.  Right.” Niama looked to her party and started to tweet at them. When she realized they couldn’t understand her, she shook her head in embarrassment and reverted to the common tongue. “So, this is my new best friend. I’m naming him Peck, and he thinks I’m a tree.” They party looked on in confusion, not entirely sure what to make of what she was saying. Before anyone could ask a question, she said “Alright, let’s go to dinner.” The party shrugged their shoulders, accepting that they would now have a bird along for the ride. They arrived at the Baramore estate with no issue. The building was a small mansion surrounded by a large yard with a metal fence surrounding it. Two guards stood at the entrance gate and straightened as they saw the party approaching. Getting closer, each member of the party pulled out their coin that Niama had received from Argus that would allow them entry to the estate. Without a word, they handed the coins to the guards who allowed them entry with no issues. They walked along the stone pathway to the mansion and saw a young girl playing with a large dog in the yard. She couldn’t have been any older than ten and they had assumed that she was the child of Argus. She was enraptured with the dog to the point where she didn’t seem to notice the guests. They reached the front door and grabbed the knocker, which had the face of a devil with emerald eyes.  A few moments pass and the door opened, revealing a tiefling with gray skin and black hair. He gestured for the party to enter and said, “Welcome to the Baramore estate. I am Sebastian, butler of the house.” The party entered in the foyer and waited for directions from Sebastian. The tiefling walked past them and said, “Allow me to direct you to your hosts.” He led them down a hallway and opened a large double door, revealing a large study that had a few book shelves and desks. In the center of the room was Argus and his wife, who were in the middle of a game of chess, though it was not a form of chess any members of the party were familiar with. The board itself was comprised of three separate boards that were held in three different locations vertically. They were seated close to a fire place that had a large banner hanging above it. Niama looked at the banner which was a deep burgundy. Its white symbol was that of a whip with nine strands. The symbol was exactly like the birth mark she had, and exactly the same as the symbol that now adorned her bow. Argus rose from his seat and clapped his hands. “Ah, our esteemed guests. Welcome to our home.” He said with a bow. Recela Baramore stood as well and dipped into a shallow curtsy and wore an easy smile. Argus greeted each member and shook their hands individually. He stopped at Nariel. “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before.” Nariel nodded. “I’m afraid we have not. To my understanding, my friends here met you on their way to rescue me.” “Ah, yes.” Said Argus. “To my understanding, that mission was a flaming success.” Nariel’s mind flashbacked to the image of her home kingdom going up in flames as the she fled the scene via teleportation. Her face turned a little red realizing she hadn’t spoken in a while. She blinked once and said “Yup” and turned away to look at the odd version of chess in the room. Argus beckoned them all out of the study and made their way to the dining room. The dining room had another banner in it that bore the same symbol of the whip and gave Niama steadily greater concerns. They all took their seats and waited for the food to arrive on the table. Niama decided to ask about the symbol adorning the house. “That is a lovely banner.” She said. “What is the symbol on it? If you don’t mind me asking.” Argus shifted his gaze to the banner. “Ah yes, this is the symbol-“ “Of Loviatar.” Pumpeck said, cutting him off, looking him directly in the eyes. “The goddess of pain and suffering. Referred to as the willing whip.” Argus smiled. “I see you know your theology.” Pumpeck made no indication she was just spoken to. “She is in direct opposition to my goddess, Liira, the lady of joy.”   “Now, now.” Said Argus. “No need for a discussion of religion at this meal. This is a simple get together to show our gratitude.” Niama rested a hand on Pumpeck’s shoulder, a silent gesture in an attempt to convince her to let it go. Pumpeck let out a soft sigh and decided to drop it for now. Veldora on the other hand wasn’t as amenable as Pumpeck. He closed his eyes and concentrated, attempting to detect any evil presence in the area. His eyes opened with a start when he detected the amount of evil radiating from below them. He did not know what, but something was down there. He nudged Rum and Thorfreyer sitting next to him and whispered. “Guys, we should make ourselves brief. There is a lot of evil coming from the basement.” “What do you mean evil?” said Thorfreyer. Rum shook his head. “We literally just learned this guy worships some goddess of torture. What do you think he means?” The door to the dining hall opened to reveal the butler, Sebastian, rolling in a cart full of food, the aroma of freshly cooked meats and vegetables began to fill the room. Sebastian placed the spread on the table. Argus said, “Thank you, Sebastian. That shall be all for now.” The Tiefling butler nodded and said. “No need to thank me sir. I am simply one hell of a butler.” The dinner began and the party started stuffing their faces with food. They figured that even if they were devil worshippers, they were still indebted to their heroes. No reason could be thought of for any kind of underhanded attack by Argus and Recela. Nariel leaned over to Pumpeck and Niama who were sitting next to her and whispered. “I overheard the guys talking. There is something evil coming from the basement.” Niama looked at her and said. “How did you overhear them?” Nariel simply pointed to her ears. Niama nodded and said. “What do you want us to do about it?” They heard Pumpeck say. “Well, I know what I’m going to do about it.” She spoke now at a volume that the whole table could hear. “So, Argus, how did you come to be a follower of Loviatar?” Argus swallowed his mouthful of food and responded. “Well, when we moved here, we fell on rather hard times. None of the businesses we had attempted got off the ground.” His gaze shifted downward. “We slowly but surely became desperate. Desperate to survive. We saw no other choice but to throw our fate into the hands of the gods, and Loviatar responded. She had told us to become bankers and do her work in this world, and we would have no more troubles. So that is what we did.” “Any particular reason for a banker?” Pumpeck asked. “We essentially provide loans to anyone in need of money. Most can pay them back, however, it is written into our contracts that upon the loan going default, payments must be made to Loviatar. We are essentially recruiters.” The party took a moment to sink that in. These were people who made others join the cause of an evil goddess if they did not have the funds to survive. It was hard for most of them to wrap their heads around it. Except for Pumpeck. Being taught about the atrocities of Loviatar made it all too easy to believe that this was another one of her schemes. She would not, could not allow it to continue. “Interesting.” She said. “I’m sorry, could you tell me where the restrooms are located?” “Of course.” Said Argus, relaying the directions to the restroom. Pumpeck smiled and said “Thank you. Niama, Nariel, care to join me? You know how I am with directions, I’ll probably get lost.” Niama and Nariel looked at each other with a confused look. Niama looked to Pumpeck and said “Sure.” The three of them left the dining room and entered the hallway. Pumpeck dropped her smile and focused her own divine sense to sense what Veldora had felt. She moved with intent down the hallway, not going the way Argus had said to go for restrooms. “Where are you going?” asked Nariel. “To smite evil.” Pumpeck said. She continued down the hallway, tailed by Niama and Nariel, eventually making her way to a library. She looked around and said. “We can get downstairs from here. Somehow.” The three started searching for the usual hidden pathway devices. A book out of place. A crooked candle holder. Anything that seemed unusual. Niama walked to the lit fireplace and tested the bricks. She found a loose brick on one side and found that it could be pushed in an inch before making a click sound. Nothing happened. She kept it held in and told Nariel to search the other side of the fire for a similar one. Within a few seconds, Nariel found the loose stone and pushed it until it clicked. At that moment, the fireplace dimmed until the fire went out, and the ground shifted to the side, revealing a stone stairway. They looked down and before a discussion could be had, Pumpeck began to trudge down the stairs. Nariel and Niama chased after her until they reached a metal door. From the other side, they could hear the sounds of chains rattling and screams of agony. A faint chanting could be heard, but only understood by Niama, who understood the demonic tongue. The chants were prayers to Loviatar. Pumpeck made a move to open the door and Niama grabbed her hand. “Look,” said Niama. “I understand that this goddess and her followers are supposed to be your mortal enemies, or whatever. But, now is not the time. We cannot fight demons and win. We need to notate this, put it in the mental bank, and get back to dinner so we don’t risk pissing off the devil worshipper.” Pumpeck sighed. “I cannot allow this evil to exist.” “And we will defeat it. Eventually. But not here, not now.” Pumpeck held eye contact during a pregnant pause. “Fine.” She said eventually. They ran back up the stairs and returned to the dining room. Fortunately, no one thought that the time that they were away was suspicious and dinner continued normally. It had seemed that little conversation had happened since the discover of the family’s loyalty to Loviatar. In the silence, Niama had a burning question that she could not put to rest. She looked to Argus and asked, “Since you know of Loviatar and her symbol. Would you be able to look at my bow?” Argus stood and walked over to her and held the bow she handed to him. He scanned it over and saw that the symbol of Loviatar was etched into the wood above the handle. He hummed lightly to himself as his eyes squinted in contemplation. “This,” he finally said. “does remind me of a story.” He handed the bow back to her and returned to his seat. “There is a saying that a herald of Loviatar will arrive to reap the souls of the living. You see, in Avernus, they use souls for currency. The herald will use the bow gifted to them to harvest souls to provide wealth to Loviatar in her realm.” “And you think I have that bow?” “Oh, certainly not. The bow of Loviatar is said to be far more intricate than that. Tipped with horns and embedded with emeralds. Just having her symbol does not make it her bow.” It put Niama’s mind at ease to find out she had little to worry about. But that didn’t help her relax about the fact that her birth mark was the same as the symbol. She decided that was ultimately a question she was not ready to confront. Dinner continued as normal and eventually dessert was served. No further discussions were had. After dessert was finished, Argus looked to the party and said, “How would you all like a tour?” Niama and Nariel’s eyes widened slightly, afraid they left behind any traces that they had been snooping. Thorfreyer, Rum, and Veldora not knowing that the women went snooping agreed to the tour. Recela excused herself, saying that she was ready to retire for the night and wished to do some reading before bed in the study. Argus led them through the halls and were making their way directly to the library. Niama leaned over Nariel and whispered, “Did we close the entrance to the basement?” “No.” Said Nariel. “Are we about to die?” “Probably.” Argus opened the door to the library and led the party inside. Gesturing to the tall shelves lining the walls filled with books. He swung his arms in a wide gesture. As he spun, he saw that the fireplace no longer had a fire in it, and the stairway was fully exposed. He ran to it and pushed the loose bricks which returned to their original position. He turned back to the party, his face red and contorted in rage. “I invite you to my home to thank you for saving me. And you snoop around my home in return. Sneak around without permission? What is wrong with you?” Pumpeck stepped forward. “The true question is what’s wrong with you. One who worships pain.” “Pain is necessary. Suffering is required. Without it, none would know joy.” “Bull.” Said Pumpeck, drawing her sword. The rest of the party didn’t want to get involved in a religious feud, but they had to back their teammate. They drew their weapons as well. Argus cocked his head and snapped his fingers. In an eruption of three plumes of green flame, three barbed devils manifested. Green scaly devils covered in spikes. Argus said, “I give you a choice. Stay and die or leave and never come back. I do want you to know that if I were not indebted to you, you would already be dead for what you’ve done.” It did not take long for the party to realize they were woefully outmatched and ran from the mansion as quickly as they could. True to his word, Argus made no move to attack them as they ran. Running to the entrance of the building, they saw Sebastian waiting at the door, he opened it and gave them a subtle bow as they bolted from the estate. Night had now fallen on Waterdeep and despite their fear, they slowed down and walked the rest of the way home, hoping to not cause unwanted attention or suspicion. They returned to the tavern and ran downstairs. “Argibold, we have a problem.” Yelled Niama. Argibold was sifting through pages and books. He lifted his head and turned to the party. “What’s up?” Niama relayed the events of the evening to Argibold who listened without interrupting. Once Niama was finished, he gave a single nod and said, “Well, freedom of religion, they can worship whoever they want. Seems like they only bring in people who sign their contracts, so it’s completely legal. And we seem to be at a point where as long as we don’t bother them, they won’t bother us. I don’t see any problems.” The party realized they wouldn’t get anywhere with Argibold. Realizing they could not do anything, they did the only thing they could. They packed it in for the night and went to sleep. Argibold was right, The Baramore’s would more than likely leave them alone as long as they didn’t do anything. But they also knew Pumpeck would more than likely not let this go easily. As long as there were those who would cause pain and suffering, she could never rest easy. She would let it go for now, but she knew one day, she needed to return to the Baramore estate, and end their evil business.

[from-one-to-seven]

Bashful and Grumpy 13?

13. Do they believe in dragons?

((In their own world, they’ve never seen a dragon before and always thought it to be a creature of legend and scary bedtime stories, but now that they know about creatures like the Silverbeards, Nightmare and Turmoil, a dragon may not seem so weird. Still, they gotta see it to really believe it~))

[space-salaman]

admiral silverbeard and his derpgon!

cool old man, i like dragons with pet bigger dragons and with vestigial legs :]

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