The Ripples of War

[Technospawn]

Interludes

Characters that post a interlude that meets all the criteria below will get 1 golden benny.

Post an interlude telling me how the war has affected your character.
Include details on what you expect from the war, both good and bad.
Create at least one NPC ally or enemy, with a name and a couple characteristics. These NPCs will appear later in the game.

[Felicity Clover]

Silverymoon/The Dancing Goat.
A month ago/Noon

Felicity Clover bent over the table in her small room in The Dancing Goat, peering at the maps of Faerun she had managed to gather. The few gold coins she had managed to earn were stacked on the table as well. Working as a priestess of Tymora at the Fortune Hall didn’t pay much. She’d had to supplement her income by working in the tavern serving food and drinks and getting groped by drunk strangers. It paid for her room and board, and a little extra to save. But she was getting a bit thin for a halfling. Would it be enough to get her home to Cormyr? Probably not, but it was a start. She had been in Silverymoon for a month and was feeling homesick.

The maps were illuminated by a candle on the table, even though it was noon and the window shutters were wide open. Fliss looked out at the strange, inky darkness that had rolled over the entire region a week ago. It made the entire city uneasy. No one quite knew what was happening. Fliss decided that it was now or never to head for home if she didn’t want to get caught up in whatever was coming.

The clatter of hooves caught her attention, and Fliss watched a company of the Knights in Silver canter along the cobblestones, their armor glimmering in the light of the lantern hanging by the door of the Goat. That wasn’t a parade. While the armor gleamed, they had full saddlebags behind them, and a couple of the Spellguard rode with them.

The door to the room opened, and Caelynn Sionnodel entered. The moon elf ranger from the Moonwood north of the city tugged at the buckles and straps of her leather armor and tossed it in the corner. Her pale skin and dark green-black hair was disheveled and dirty. She picked some leaves from her hair.

“What’s going on?” Fliss asked, leaning back in her chair as she watched her roommate peel off her dirty clothes and pour water in the basin. Fliss blushed at the moon elf’s beautiful form, making her freckles standing out, and looked away as Caelynn cleaned up. “It’s been a week since you went out scouting for the Knights.”

Caelynn straightened up from the washbasin and started drying herself off. “Many Arrows is on the move,” she said. “An orc horde is heading south.”

Fliss blinked, staring at the moon elf. “Many Arrows?” She looked at her map of the north again. “Orcs? Like real orcs?” the halfling asked. She’d grown up in Suzail, the capital, well protected from such things. Sure, she heard the occasional town crier yell of grand heroics against orcs out of the Stonelands, but that was on the other side of Cormyr and of no concern to her.

“Yes, real orcs, Fliss,” Caelynn said dryly, giving the halfling a look. “They seem to be following the Subrin, not heading this way yet. So if you want to get home, like you keep talking about, you might want to get out of the city before they do.”

Fliss worried her lower lip. “Are they responsible for that darkness?” she asked. “It’s...unnatural.”

“We have to assume so,” Caelynn answered. “There are drow leading them.”

Fliss stared. “Drow? Really!” As far as the halfling knew, Cormyr didn’t have any drow. She knew only stories.

“Yes,” Caelynn said darkly. “Be a good friend and run down and get me some food. I’m going to crash for a few hours, and then I’m joining the Knights that are heading downriver to reinforce Nesme.”

[Felicity Clover]

Nesme
10 days later

Fliss looked up at the high walls of Nesme as the barges pulled up to the docks. Fifteen feet high and dotted with arrow slits on all sides, the walls were famous for keeping the trading city on the edge of the Evermoors safe from giants and trolls and other attacks. Unable to find a caravan with which to travel heading south on the Everlund Road, Fliss had decided to see if she could outpace the orc horde and take the Subrin from Nesme to Yartar and then catch the Triboar Trail to the Long Road and down to Waterdeep. Caelynn had told her she could catch a caravan from Waterdeep to Baldur’s Gate and then find her way east to Cormyr.

Fliss hopped onto the docks and followed the Knights into the city. Nesme wasn’t a splendorous city like Silverymoon. It was more down to earth, functional, practical, a city of traders, who worshiped Waukeen. Wealth.

“This way,” Caelynn said, guiding Fliss to a barracks of the Riders of Nesme that had been converted for the wounded, a testament to just how many casualties the Riders were taking in the orc raids.

“I can help!” Felicity said.

“Fliss…” Caelynn warned. “You need to head downstream before the main force of the orc horde gets here.”

“I can’t leave these people suffering,” Fliss told Caelynn. “And you will need the soldiers.”

Caelynn couldn’t argue with that.

Fliss pulled up short. “Is that…”

Caelynn looked where the halfling was staring. She scowled. “A drow. Yes.” The dark-skinned elf stood talking to a black-beared dwarf with a pair of glassteel spiked flails, and a solidly built human woman. One hand rested on the pommel of a scimitar, the other on the back of a huge black panther.

“But...but...in the middle of the city gate?”

“His name is Drizz’t. They say he is a good drow.”

Fliss looked up at Caelynn. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“I’m not sure there is such a thing,” she told Fliss, turning and walking away. “I remember another drow the Moonwood accepted into their fold that turned out less well. He leads the armies of orcs now.”

[Felicity Clover]

Nesme
10 days later

The Tears of Selune were blocked in the night sky by the strange darkness as the barge slipped the docs of Nesme and made for the center of the Subrin, as quiet as possible. Felicity moved among the wounded soldiers on the barge, a few women and children with her, tending their needs. The halfling priestess tried to soothe their fears, but the sounds of the orc hordes forming outside the walls of Nesme were disheartening. Even more disheartening was the gigantic white figure of the dragon soaring over the host.

“Tymora grant your favor,” Fliss prayed quietly as she clutched her holy symbol, watching as the city disappeared behind a bend in the river.

[Technospawn]

Fliss has earned 1 golden benny.

[Henry]

---

Last Week

Clay stood on the parapet overlooking the bay. His mind wandered as he stood watch. The letter he’d received earlier in the day was still in his hand. Cooper Redford, the Bear of the North, his father, was dead if the letter was to be believed. Dead somewhere out by Many Arrows, fighting in someone’s damned war, against a horde of angry Orcs.

“Damn fool.” Muttered Clay then regretted the words.

Clay has voiced his opinions on being a mercenary to his father. Clay had argued that being a soldier was much more honorable than a mercenary. His father had disagreed. Now Clay felt like a donkeys rear and his father was dead.

The time to re-up his own enlistment was coming soon and now he felt his first doubts. Maybe his father was right. Maybe Clay shouldn’t tie himself down to one army or one city.

The doubt made him angry with himself. In a week he’d receive a promotion, pay increase and return-enlistment bonus. If he stayed.

Opening the letter again Red Clay read it once more.

The ferocious Orc Scar Blackwood had cut down the Bear of the North.

Two great armies had stood on the ashen plains of battle and stopped their melee to watch the Bear and the Black Scar, as the orc was known. Two colossal giants of “men”. Both known as masters of the blade and killers without equals. Something about the duel had stopped every other soul on the battlefield the man writing the letter had wrote. The fight was inhumanly long and violent. But. Finally the Black Scar had cut the head off of the Bear. Both armies yielded for the day. The Black Scar was celebrated by his side. The Bear was buried by his army. No one else fought until the following day.

Crumpling the letter in his fist, Clay felt empty. He should seek revenge for his father. Shouldn’t he? He didn’t know. His father had been a little harsh but never a evil man or violent parent. Clay’s mother had died in childbirth and the Bear had done well enough as a single parent.

Clay smiled at the memory of that day the old man had told him to get a job. It was right after Clay has bested him for the first time with blades in a mock duel.

Frowning Clay looked across at the next man on the parapet. It was Fast Tom. Tom looked bored. Sighing Clay admitted to himself that he was bored too.

”Okay father. Okay. I’ll come see what the fuss is all about with these damned Orcs and bring you mothers necklace for your grave marker.”

Absently Clay lifted the small opal on a leather necklace he wore. His father had given it to Clay telling the swordsman it was his mother’s.

Tom has walked closer, holding out a set of dice, offering to play.

Clay nodded as much at Tom as he did to his own thoughts. He was not re-enlisting and would be looking for a orc with a magic sword to fell.



———NPC———
Scar Blackwood.
”The Black Scar”
Orc Fighter and Warlord.
Wields a powerful soul drinker sword called Crusher.
Killed Clay’s father. Probably eats babies. And a mean bastard.


———NPC———
Thomas Crumb
“Fast Tom”
Human Archer and soldier in Baldur’s Gate.
Master Archer who builds his own bows.
Clever, gambler and loyal. Older than Clay, around 35.
He may be close to retirement from the soldering life soon.
Might travel and could pop up at some point.

[Llolfaen]

The Crown
Skullport

Though it was nighttime on the surface world, the notion didn't seep down to the cavern hence laid Skullport bathed in the dim light of phosphorescent fungi. Stuck as it was in a subterranean twilight, the town lived on heedless of the passage of the sun and moon in the world high above. This shadowy port was a dark reflection of the City of Splendors above, a hive for all manner of villainous denizens.

It was through this dank collection of ramshackle buildings that Llolfaen, and her twin Inshalee, now crept. Their eyes could see clearly in the dim light, though they lacked the heat based vision of their dark elf kin. For any other Drow this would be a hindrance, but Llolfean and her sister had long since overcome this as had the rest of their House. They had to in order to survive after their House's fall from grace and subsequent exile from the Underdark.

Now they had a chance to address the ill fortune that had befallen them.

They were after a Drow from House Mizzrym, the same House that had brought about the downfall of their own, a male by the name of Kelica. He was here for some sort of trade deal, though the details mattered little for the twin Drow as they scaled the wall of the building where Kelica was residing. It was a simple matter of gaining access through a handy window, though the dark elf sisters remained alert and wary for any signs of a trap. They didn't expect Kelica to be a fool and have no form of protection other than a few bodyguards, he had to have something else. Though as they moved through the room, a study going by the desk and paperwork, there seemed to be no traps magical or otherwise.

Just then, Inshalee signed. Door.

Llolfaen nodded and went to flank one side of the door as her sister took the other just as they both heard the creak of floorboards in the passage outside the room. They both waited tensely with daggers drawn as they listened to the footsteps approach the room, clearly trying to sneak but lacking the light footedness of elven kind. Then the door opened and Inshalee instantly lept at whomever it was trying to enter the room, causing the door to swing wildly and catch Llolfaen. Momentarily dazed, Llolfaen staggered backwards knocking items over as her sister tackled the unseen assailant. By the time Llolfaen had recovered her wits, she could hear raised voices from elsewhere in the building and her sister's scuffle had moved down the passage.

No sooner had Llolfaen made it into the passage that a male Drow appeared at the far end at the head of a body of armed guards. Inshalee also saw this Drow and cried out in rage. "Kelica!"

Winding her opponent, Inshalee then hurtled down the passage after the scion of House Mizzrym. Llolfaen ran after her, tackling the guards or darting past them in order to reach their target. Kelica, meanwhile, had turned and ran once he'd realized how ineffective his guards were as the Drow sisters sliced or dodged their way past them. Inshalee had a bigger lead on Kelica whilst Llolfaen's progress was checked when she was forced to parry a blow from one of the few guards still standing. Feeling frustrated and fending off attacks, Llolfaen could only watch as her sister disappeared off down the passageway. She almost failed to spot a flanking attack, though surprisingly enough Inshalee's previous opponent countered it and put the guards on the back-foot. A quick glance told Llolfaen that this unexpected ally was male and pale skinned, admittedly bruised and bloodied, a half-elf possibly going by the ears.

Poising on the unexpected but welcomed distraction, Llolfaen lashed out at the leg of one of the guards before jumping over him as he went down and thus left the half elf to deal with the rest of the guards. Llolfaen hurried along, desperate to catch up with her sibling in orders of salvaging something from this venture that had gone disastrously wrong. She arrived in another chamber just as Kelica appeared to be chanting over something in his hand whilst Inshalee lunged through the air at him with dagger ready to strike. A sudden flash of bright light engulfed both Kelica and Inshalee, an instant later both had vanished leaving Llolfaen alone and cursing her luck.

~ ~ ~ ~

The half elf, Gervase, found her a short while later staring at the spot where her sister had been. He seemed to have a good inkling as to what the motives of the Drow sisters had been and so didn't press her for answers. Instead Gervase explained he was with some group, something to do with harps but Llolfaen was only half-listening, that had been investigating Kelica after they noticed he'd been shipping a large amount of arms through Skullport bound for somewhere in the north. Though before Gervase could say anything else, there was a crashing sound as more of Kelica's warriors arrived. At this point Llolfaen took as a cue to make a hasty departure, not caring much for the half elf's fate.

With her task failed and her sister missing, Llolfaen was in an awkward situation. She could only expect a cold welcome at best upon her return to her House, if they would even have her back at all. Likewise, Skullport and Waterdeep above it would both become too hot for her to stay.

But where to go?

North.

That is what the half elf had said, Kelica was sending arms to somewhere in the north.

It wasn't the best lead to go but it was the only one she had, especially if she had any hope of finding Kelica or her sister.

So north it was.

[Technospawn]

Fliss, Clay, and Llolfaen have earned Golden Bennies.

[Roland]

Roland was minding his own business and enjoying the snacks. A nice plate of cheese, sliced apples and even some excellently brewed cider. His mind a little fogged as he played absently with his amulet. When suddenly he heard the call from the front gate “Lord Haed of Windmoor”.

Turning to the side he looked at the nice lady who had prepared his meal. “Um, isn’t Lord Haed sent off to help with trouble in the south? Wasn’t it something about trolls?” The words were interrupted periodically by the breathing he had to do as he put on his coat and buckled his knife as fast as possible.

“He was, we were even given the day off.” Squealed the nervous woman as she too prepared herself. “He is going to expect a hat meal and you know last time he said if he ever sees you again you will be dead. It will be worse if he sees you here in the fort.”


Roland was moving as fast as he could, the foolish man never could see reason and constantly expected people to act just like him. But Roland was an amazing performer and simply the best sorcerer in there is. Why come to think of it, Lord Haed is lucky that Roland respects his rule or he could summon an ice golem to fell the man. Party with a slight kiss and a wink Roland said. “I do hope to see you again. You have been excellent company. Oh, and good luck helping the old grouch out.” Then with a simple word and a focusing of thoughts suddenly a Griffon made of ice formed right outside the window, Roland jumping onto its back as the two of them departed.

Annabel's voice could only partially be heard yelling something about, wrong side, he’s in the courtyard, or something. When suddenly an arrow hit Roland in the shoulder. The shouting of “There is that rogue, 10 crowns ot the man who downs him.” Had Roland doing everything he could to get out of there. A flash of flame in an archers face, and a helmet of ice for the lord was enough. But how, could it be, how was the lord back so quickly.

It was not until the next day after have flown out of sight and then had his golem curve around and take him north that he found out. Some trouble to the north has forced all the lords to take it seriously and they where recalled from the field. He really loved Windmoor and wanted to spend a while longer there. But Roland had been around long enough to know not to mess with things.

Well if there was action to the north, then their would be rewards as well, and perhaps a way for the world's greatest sorcerer to make a living or meet some new friends.


Annabel = A Scullery, who is good friends with Roland and may in fact be looking for new employment opportunities herself right now.

Lord Haed = A Relatively Noble Night, who has had enough of being forced to settle disputes between fathers and husbands over a scoundrel with no means to support small children.

[Technospawn]

Roland has earned a Golden Benny.