Paula gathered her wits and will together, gritting her teeth against the lingering pain of the ghost's claws and screeches as she rose her glamorous holy symbol up high as she stared down upon the misty forms of the ghosts with a stern glare..

"In the name of the Brilliant Mother and all of her shining glory, I command you, lost souls of anguish, to leave this mortal coil once and for all, and find your way amongst the afterlife you have avoided for so long. Be gone! And find the eternal peace or damnation, whichever it may be, that awaits you!" She commanded, and with a great rising force of her own willpower, her holy symbol suddenly let off a swirl of brilliant light and energy as her ability to turn the undead came to its apex. In one great show of divine energy, she flooded the area in a wave of positive energy, intent upon driving the ghosts from the material plane..

Elandor yawned and regarded the world through dreamy eyes. He had just finished a nice dream about giants and molten diamonds.

Breakfast was waiting downstairs, the only obstacle to get it easily taken. Elandor gladly offered the 2 coppers in exchange for a nice meal. The bread smelled delicious and the cheese looked very inviting.
The small kender climbed on top of the bar stool again that had seated him the previous night. Noticing how the rest was slowly awaking he sat contently, nibbling his bread. Politely he gave the innkeeper a nod and a sleepy smile. It had been long since he had enjoyed a bed as good as this inn’s.

“Mister Jester, your food and your beds are really wonderful. As a person with a lot of social contacts I’m sure you know a lot about this city and its surroundings. Can you tell me where we could find an airship in these lands? And could I have a knife and fork with my cheese? I seem to have eaten all my bread already.”

Teros awoke and moved downstairs with the group feeling energized and ready to go. The soft bead and warmth that could only be given to one from by the combination of a real bed and a real structure. Even so, he was dissapointed to see that he couldn't sit down and spend some private time praying to his goddess in the new sunlight that she offered. Still he knew that there would plenty of time to do that later on.

He watched the Kender eagerly pull out the money required and buy the food that the innkeeper had for them. He himself took a few steps forward next and pulled out the neccessary money. He was hungry, and it would do him no justice to go about his day in this state. As he took his food he thought about that. He needed to buy things, specifically, rations for the flight.

As his mind drifted over things to buy he picked up a few other things. He smiled to himself as he thought of them in order, but kept this to himself as he ate his food, taking his time and enjoying this little time to himself and his thoughts.

A knock on the door aroused Damien from a troubled sleep. He opened his eyes to the drab grey material that encased his pillow. With a groan, he turned over to face the ceiling, shaking his head slightly to push away the long strands of hair that tickled his nose.

The name Cassie Bernsmith still resonated in his mind, fresh as the moment he heard it the previous night. One day, he swore to himself, he would return and free her, if for no reason aside from allowing her to see the world.

“That’s provided I ever come back,” He muttered grimly as he set himself to work gathering up his belongings for the next day. Donning his dark clothes and spidersilk pack, the bard smoothly buckled on his sword belt, fixed his hair so that it hung straight, and made his way down to the common room.

Elandor, Vilyamar, and Teros were already present downstairs. Damien acknowledged them with little more than a slight nod of his head as he set himself down to a table to eat. Though the breakfast presented didn’t appear to be the most appetizing of meals, he was hungry, and had eaten very little the previous night. Taking a helping that he figured would satisfy himself, he slowly began to eat.

(OOC: Sorry this is so crappy, but I don’t have a huge amount to work with. Damien will sit by himself unless spoken to, and when he is finished his meal, he will pay and then try to obtain some rations for the trip ahead.)

A knock on the door aroused Damien from a troubled sleep. He opened his eyes to the drab grey material that encased his pillow. With a groan, he turned over to face the ceiling, shaking his head slightly to push away the long strands of hair that tickled his nose.

The name Cassie Bernsmith still resonated in his mind, fresh as the moment he heard it the previous night. One day, he swore to himself, he would return and free her, if for no reason aside from allowing her to see the world.

“That’s provided I ever come back,” He muttered grimly as he set himself to work gathering up his belongings for the next day. Donning his dark clothes and spidersilk pack, the bard smoothly buckled on his sword belt, fixed his hair so that it hung straight, and made his way down to the common room.

Elandor, Vilyamar, and Teros were already present downstairs. Damien acknowledged them with little more than a slight nod of his head as he set himself down to a table to eat. Though the breakfast presented didn’t appear to be the most appetizing of meals, he was hungry, and had eaten very little the previous night. Taking a helping that he figured would satisfy himself, he slowly began to eat.

(OOC: Sorry this is so crappy, but I don’t have a huge amount to work with. Damien will sit by himself unless spoken to, and when he is finished his meal, he will pay and then try to obtain some rations for the trip ahead.)

August 11th/Tuesday Night
Northern Thollin
Old House/Outskirts of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital

After 30 years of tormented wandering, the ghost’s of the old Wilshire House had been broken; and now, as they knelt before the Cleric of Lavuria, who shone with the radiance of the sun, they could feel their hold on the mortal plane slip.

"In the name of the Brilliant Mother and all of her shining glory, I command you, lost souls of anguish, to leave this mortal coil once and for all, and find your way amongst the afterlife you have avoided for so long. Be gone! And find the eternal peace or damnation, whichever it may be, that awaits you!"

Like a beacon the symbol she held on high cast a white light across the room, washing back the shadows. As it swept over the ghosts, it seemed that they began to steam, almost evaporate into a mist. The mother screamed in agony, and clawed at her face. She doubled over in agony as the very fibers of her being rolled off her and dissipated in the holy light. The children made no sound, nor did they squirm. They simply accepted.

The light became so bright that Paula was forced to shield her eyes, and in moments, it faded, and she found herself standing in a dark, silent kitchen…

Breakfast came, and the others awoke. The monk simply nodded at the innkeepers suggestion of two copper per person and told the others as they came down of the cost of their meal. That is if they joined him. A few did not, but that was alright. Vilyamar felt it almost his duty to keep the group on task, if not in line. But there was nothing he could do about them waking as he did or sitting as a group. What they did was what they did, and it was fine by the half-elf, so long as it did not endanger their mission.

Vil felt a kinship with the elves that had trusted them with this task. He knew that humans and other outsiders were seldom welcomed, open-arms, to the elven-kin dwellings. HE felt ashamed at their dismissial from the elven kingdom. And his goal was not only to save this world, but to restore the faith of the elves in him and his kin, if not humans in general. Humans came second, for their ways sometimes were truly barbaric. Despite having spent most of his life focusing on those forces within himself, Vilyamar still had garnered an appreciation for the outdoors from his elven kin. He saw some of the harmonies of nature, as the elves did all the time. And he could feel some of the tension sometimes. Perhaps it was because he was not particularly gifted with the abilities that were so natural to elven kind and even to rangers of the woods. He just didn't have that true affinity that the druids and rangers possessed. Otherwise he probably would have strayed down a much different path.

His thoughts were interrupted by a crash of something. Or perhaps a chair being pulled out as the Satyr sat down at his table once more. But it brought his mind back to the present from the past and he realized that all of them would need nourishment on the trip. He did not know much about airships, and this told him to prepare for a journey without much for accomodations and even less for amenities. Seldom had he heard of airships being used transport people, so he decided it best to gather some jerkied meat and bread before they left.

Calling to the innkeeper, or a serving girl, whoever was present, Vilyamar motioned for service.

"What do you have in the way of travelling goods? Anything in the way of food for travelling?"

As the eastern sky first began to show signs of brightening, a false dawn, Marie opened her eyes. She glanced at the room, panicking for a moment and trying to remember how she got there. Her large green eyes surveying the room, taking in the Satyr and the strange color of the wood that was not found around her home. All this was in the blink of an eye; her years of scouting having her analyze her surrounding, and wake before the sun showed its rosy cheeks. It came to her a few moments later, the sleep finally leaving her mind. -I found them, finally. After all that traveling and all those nights spent under roofs to ask people directions deep into the night, I have found them.- She smiled suddenly, drawing the covers off herself slowly as to not wake her sleeping friend, she got out of bed and walked over to the window. She quietly undid the latch and pushed it open, letting the fresh air into the room to cleanse it of the aroma of drunkenness. She glanced down and saw that she was dusty from the traveling she had done yesterday. Sighing, she walked over to the washbasin, spending the next half-hour cleansing her slight yet muscular form of accumulated dust, shaking out her cloths quickly as well before her companion awoke. As soon as she was as close to clean as she could get she realized that she was stiff and sore from days spent non-stop on the road. He reached up a hand calloused from days spent using her sword and other weapons to massage her complaining muscles.

She more than once grimaced from the pain of finding a particularly sore place, then slowly working it out. This took a long while, her head bowed and her chin resting on her chest as she worked out the last few remaining cramps in her neck. Once that was finished she slowly sat down on the edge on her bed, glancing down at the boots she had removed the previous night. She sighed once more, looking out the window in time to see the sun rise over the horizon, shining its light into the window to warm her skin once more with its rays. She smiled, remembering when she was little and used to lay on a large rock out in the center or the lake, just lay therefore hours until her skin was so dark with tan that she could have rivaled even Taran, a dark man in her pack. She remembered the look on her guardian’s face when she had walked back into the camp, smiling and soaking wet from the swim back to shore. He would look her over and then put on this mask of disproval, his eyes showing his true amusement. He would give her a speech about sunbathing while there was work to be done, and she would stand there, looking properly chastised, but with an answering twinkle in her eye. As soon as he was finished she would say “Yes Sir” And then bow out of the room, going to dry off.

She remembered the long days spent practicing on the shore of that very lake with Zela, the woman who was second in command of the pack. She had held her sword ready, watching as Zela’s made its deadly arch towards her, yet unable to do anything about it. “Girl, you need to learn to use that thing, its not made for looking pretty.” She would say after her arch had ended with Marie’s sword strewn across the ground, “It’s made for defense, for protection. Not only for yourself either, for others, for innocents. For people that cannot defend themselves. You will be there, with this sword.” She would smile and pick up the sword, handing it to Marie hilt first, “It is your friend, your life depends on it. Yours and others, use it well.” Then she would walk off until the next day, coaching her into the swords-woman she was today.

Marie smiled again and pulled on her boots, walking softly across the boards to her companion’s bed, shaking her gently to wake her. “Time to wake…” Just then a knock sounded through the door and she smiled. “See?” She said to the sleepy sentry. “Our companions are waking up.” With that she left her to herself to manage to get ready for the day, slowly making her way down the stairs and into the common room. Her eyes searched the room, adjusting to the light as she looked for her companions. She spotted them and decided that the green clad one was the one that seemed the most pleasant company this day. She nodded to the others and walked over to him, pulling up a chair and asking the barkeep for some breakfast, saying that the price of it was fine.

As it was brought she dropped the necessary coin into the hand of the person that brought it to her and then turned to the man across from her. “Do you know what kinds of supplies are available or not? Mine have grown rather shabby with traveling.” She smiled and glanced down at her breakfast, picking up her fork and using it to pickup something that looked good and escort it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste of food, something that she hadn’t tasted for over a day, all she had had was travel rations and those hardly counted.

Scourge awoke before the dawn's first rays had begun their illuminated dance through the rooms single window. He sat upright and by candlelight so as not to awaken Elandor recanted his spells and prayed to his deity for his blessing that day.

With his preparations completed, he gathered his gear and headed down for the morning repast. He paid the twin coppers to the server and accepted his meal in quiet satisfaction. As talk was made about the plans for the day, he decided he would take in the chance to barter with the locals before they caught their transportation to the next leg of this journey.

((He'll go about trying to do as listed in the General thread sorry it's crappy, but it's late and I ache and am tired <--pity trip turned zzzzZZZZZZ ))

Paula stood in the darkness a moment, frozen in anticipation of another attack with her mace at ready, barely daring to breath. She glanced about in the darkness a moment before she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She put her mace away in its sturdy holster, and then pulled the same rod out, filling the room with light.. "Master Johan??" She said, glancing about a moment, before blinking thoughtfully. "Ah, he must have taken my advice.." She mused as she headed for the fireplace..

She set the rod down on the mantle-piece over the hearth, and reached into her pack a moment, withdrawing a simple, thick piece of golden-yellow chalk, with which she carefully traced out a design above the mantle-piece. It consisted of a double circle, within which stood the prominent sun symbol of Lavuria. She redeposited the thick chalk, and drew out another, thinner piece, which which she etched out a myriad of holy signs and banishing symbols within the double circle, and around the sun symbol as well. Finally, she put away that chalk as well, and began tracing the outer circle of the symbol while she softly chanted a prayer of Bless..

The symbol glowed dully against the bright glow of the rod, taking something of a luminescent glow as the Bless spell took affect, and suffused the home in a light field of divine energy.. Paula smiled to herself a moment, content that this would keep the ghosts from returning if they ever tried..

She took her rod, and began to find her way out of the home, but suddenly stopped in the doorway, wincing with a gasped breath to unseen wounds.. She reached up and touched her face where the ghost had so viciously clawed at her before.. "Oh blast.. looks like I will need to stay in the temple tonight to heal these particular wounds.." She muttered to herself, sighed softly as she headed out of the home a bit more carefully..

"Master Johan? Are you out here? Are you allright?" She asked as she stepped out the door, glancing about..

August 12th/Wednesday Morning
Northern Thollin
City Of Eldarast/Thollin's Capital

One by one, the party member’s made their way groggily down the stairs and into the common room; where, huddled about the meager breakfast provided before them on the bar table, they listened to the little kender inquire as to the whereabouts of the Lifts. Master Hillock, who was still rubbing at the likely permanent bags beneath his eyes, set a tin fork with a missing prong, and a rather beaten tin knife down before the Kender.

Letting his dark eyes wander over the party, he stroked at his long beard a moment, before grunting

“Th’ lifts eh? Aye I know where th’ lifts are. But ye best be packing more than a couple coppers if ye wish to board a windship. The only ships that folk that aren’t royalty can board are cargo ships, an even they be particularly pricey. Nomatter. If seek them you do, Ole’ Master Hillock will direct ye.”

Popping a cheese ball into his mouth, and reaching under the counter, he brought up a map. The edges were frayed and blackened, and it’s surface smudged and badly soiled. It looked as if it had survived a kitchen fire and 3 kingdom wars.

“Ye see this?”

The innkeeper’s grubby finger was pointed at what appeared to be a wine spill.

“This is where we be. Ye follow this here street towards the outer curtain of Elderast’s Castle, but ye can’t go in the main gate. Ye gotta scurry about this street east until ye reach a smaller portcullis. A sign will point out the lifts to ye. They be located atop the catwalks of the outer curtain…which in this city, is actually the inner curtain.”

He chuckled at his attempt at a joke, before downing whatever was in his tin cup and standing straight.

“Anything else ye be wanting?”

At the barrage of questions on where they could find food, clothes, and even a magic appraiser, he leaned back over the map, and pointed out each and every recommended shop they go to. Apparently he didn’t sell carry on rations, but it didn’t seem to matter. Every shop he pointed out was on the block that his inn cornered.

Thanking the man, who hurriedly snatched back his silverware from the kender, the party turned in their keys and headed out the door. Sunlight graced the tops of buildings, but still could not reach the street, which gleamed wetly with morning dew. The morning was cool, but the azure sky promised a bright, and likely very warm day.

Taking a moment to devise how to go about hitting up the shops in the shortest amount of time, they decided to head the Traveler’s Pal, which apparently was the General store, first. They would gather what rations where needed, then split to whichever store they needed to visit next, before meeting back at the streets corner, before the Jester’s corner. It was generally agreed on that they would need to be quick, seeing as they did not know what time the Windships left, and noone cared to find out the hard way.

The streets were quite clear in this early hour, which relieved the party. There would be no long lines or shoving through crowds, and so their errands should come to a conclusion within a half an hour.

As they strolled the damp, cobblestone street, their many, booted footsteps clicked and echoed off the silent faces of shaded buildings. They began to feel as if people should be staring out their windows at them, but none did. A small group of grubby boys stopped chasing a rather fat, yellow cat with sticks, and stared as the group passed. As did several housewives, standing on their porches, shaking off mats and watering plants. They waved or smiled, however. Travelers in odd clothing was not so unordinary in Eldarast.

The general store was not a disappointing store. Not only was it big, but it boasted a very wide range of goods, from farming tools to weapons, to food and clothing. The old man who ran the shop was friendly and toothless, and sold his goods at very fair prices.

Marie was very pleased to find an assortment of clothing and cloaks. After all, it should be obvious that Eldarast, the capital of Thollin would possess such variety even in it’s general, commoner stores. It held contact with many, many nations at all times of the year, due to it’s flow of mercantilism, and it’s windships. Even so, the party was surprised.

Outfit Choices
Faded, pale green tunic and leggings, sleeveless and cut off at the knees
Dark brown, wool tunic with black, padded leggings
Silk Tunic and leggings of dark blue, laced in crimson
Thin, Gray and tan tunic and leggings
Black, heavy cloak
Gray, thin cloak
Brown, thin cloak
Dark green, heavy cloak
Black, heavy boots
Brown, Heavy Boots
Gray, Heavy boots
Black, light boots
Brown, Light boots
Gray, light boots
(Marie, simply select what you want. All outfits are 3 coppers, all boots are 2 coppers, and all cloaks are 1 copper, accept the silk outfit...it’s 1 silver.)

The selection of weapons was not particularly intriguing, and the rather impressive assortment of hoes, rakes, and plow spikes did not seem to captivate the party as might have been expected. And so, ignoring the very large collection of irrelevant vases, hats, bags, purses and the like, the party was able to buy their share of dried jerky, and…fruitcake. After buying his share of rations, Damien’s inquiry as to where he would be able to find a pair of Boots of Elvenkind enforced such a show of laughter, and toothless grinning from the shopkeeper, that he decided grimly that for dignities sake, his search end there.

Teros was quick to buy his rations and, after the others left the shop, and while Marie was still looking through the different sets of clothes, he strolled about the isles, until he came upon a decent selection of journals.

Journal Selections
Black, Leather With flap and wrapping strip
Brown, Leather With flap and wrapping strip
Tan, Leather With flap and bronze buckle
Tan, Hemp With bronze buckle and beaded wrapping strip
Gray, Hemp Plain
(All are 1 copper)

He could find only one ink well, but it’s quality surprised him. He could not recognize what stone it had been carven from…perhaps obsidian, but it 8, smooth, faceted sides. Carven in Common Runes along every other of it’s sides, he could read Knowledge, Wisdom, Secrets, and Lore It cost 1 Gold Piece. The gray, feathered Ink pen cost 1 copper…

**********

Having left the general store behind, Scourge and Elandor made their way towards the magic shop. It was only 4 buildings down, and the kender was equally curious about the worth of the mask he had found. Though the building was double storied, as was the norm in this city, it appeared smaller, and squat, compared to those on either side of it. It’s chimney was slightly crooked, and an odd, spicy odor laced the cool morning air outside it’s front door.

Pulling the door open with a creak, Scourge let the little kender in, before stooping under the doorway himself. The spicy odor was far more pungent now, laced with a slight undertone of dust, old leather and guano…A typical magic shop. The man that greeted them was perhaps not what one would expect from a magic shop owner. His shoulders were broad, and his smile clean and white. His thick hair flowed to his shoulders, and a neatly trimmed beard graced his chin. His eyes darkened as they fell on the kender, but his smile remained.

“A fine morning to you, my rather voluminous friend.”

He smiled at Scourge, and added.

“The kender is to remain in eye range at all times. Aside from that, how may my services benefit you?”

Pulling the horned mask from within his dusky robe, and laying it on the table before the man, Scourge let Orion do the talking.

“My mate here would like to inquire as to the price range of this mask. If you are fair and honest, we may or may not decide to barter with it.”

The man raised an eyebrow, though it seemed directed more at the raven’s final statement than the fact that it was a raven who made it. He was used to strange customers. This was a magic shop. Business was dealt. Names where not given, alignments where not asked.

“My dear sir. I am always honest. Now if I may have a look..”

The man grabbed the mask by it’s temple horns and held it up, peering into the hollow eye sockets. This is the headgear of a shaman of the guglock tribe. A rather arcane yet common type of goblin in the wildernesses of this area. The shaman themselves are placed at leadership positions, and are highly influential. The mask of the shaman is not most common of artifacts, but is also not the most difficult to create. It’s magical properties are rather simple…”

Closing his eyes for a moment, the man lay the mask down and, holding his hands palm down over it, began to hum softly, running his hands along it’s outline, just inches above it’s surface. Scourge kept an eye on Elandor. After a moment, the man’s eyes opened once more and he set his hands on the table.

“I will give you 3,000 Gold Pieces for it. No more. No Less. That is about it’s average worth. Scry me if you wish. I am not lying.”

(Scourge, you may do as you will….You will find out he is NOT lying though..sell or don’t sell, include in you post.)

On their way back from the magic shop, Scourge was able to swing into a clothing store, where he found his search for black fabric and silver filching easily concluded. The fabric was, however..Silk. The total cost would bring him to about 5 GP.

****

After they left the general store, Teros and Marie swung by the local Jeweler. It would be a short stop, as the Jeweler seemed to lack the variety the two had seen previously. Yet Teros was able to find a very beautiful, silver ring which seemed to spiral around a many faceted star diamond. In the sunlight which now reached the window’s it cast a myriad of little rainbows onto Teros’ dark skin. The price, as he would find out, would be 500 gp. (Your diamond that you received from Tharanduil is 1000 gp) After trading his diamond for the ring and a smaller, white diamond worth 500 gp, he was finished.

****

Indeed the party was able to conclude it’s business early and, just as the suns warm rays were finally splashing against doorsteps, and the streets were beginning to fill with peasants and merchants, pions travelers, the group was reformed outside the Jester’s Hour, and set off in the direction of the castle.

One can find it amazing how suddenly a city street can go from the gray, sleepy gloom of dawn, to the early morning congestion of a hustle bustle marketplace. It seemed as if on cue, the city were suddenly alive and very busy. Yet the party was able to find it’s way rather quickly through the crowds, and in no time, stood before the massive, main gates of the castles outer curtain. Guards stood atop the walls, and on either side of the heavy, iron portcullis. It’s thick teeth were down, barring direct passage. Through the bars, the party could see the castle beyond. It was huge. Massive buttresses and towers jutted about the main castle like the thorns of a stone crown. Their walls were smooth and pale in the sunlight and, high above, birds circled the green and white banners of Thollin.

Remembering their instructions, the party followed a street which ran perfectly parallel along the wall, until they came to a smaller gateway leading through the wall, between two guard towers. Guards also stood at this entrance, and as the party tried to pass, they barred their way.

“What business have you in the Service of the Royal Courtyard?”

The party explained their business with the lifts, and the guards nodded. Two were ordered to escort the party, and did so without hesitation. Beyond the gateway, the party could see more than just the castle. Many, many large, stone buildings were built along the walls and sides of the keep. Their were smithies, shops, fountains, Even a sparring yard. Apparently the guards had thought the group not royal enough, or rich enough to pass without supervision. In fact, they weren’t….They wore simple armor and though customized, for the most part, simple clothing.

As the guards led them along the wall, towards a set of stairs that led to the catwalks above, the party noticed that they could see the nose of what was obviously a windship. A massive, wood and sail fin, stretched over the wall like the wing of some great bird. Most of the party had never seen such a structure, and as they climbed the stairs and stood now on the large, flat platform that made up the lift, they stared at it in awe. There was only one windship. Perhaps the king owned more, perhaps windships were indeed very rare. Nonetheless, the ship before them was sight enough to behold.

It was about the length and width of a sea going ship, and looked altogether very much the same. Yet it was not as deep, and it sloped elegantly. It possessed no mass and no sails upon it’s deck. Only two massive sail like wings on it’s sides and a great, fish like fin in the back. Her side read in beautiful curving, gold letters The Nausicaa

The platform was strewn with boxes and crates and barrels; and men hustled back and forth from the ship to the boxes, climbing portable stairs that had been slid to the side of the ship. If the party was not so captivated by a flying ship, they may have noticed the spectacular view of the castle on their right, and the city of Eldarast on their left. Since the castle crowned a hill that sloped in the center of the city, and the lifts were located on the castles outer walls, they made for a beautiful view. Of the bustling city, and the rolling hills beyond.

The party followed the guards as they headed towards a particularly husky looking man with a shaved head and two golden hoops in his ears. He wore striped, blue and red pants and tall, black boots. His shirt was a dark, velvet blue and though it tied shut in the front, he wore it open like a sleeved vest. His broad chest shone with sweat even in the early morning sun. He was busy shouting order’s at a group of crewmen who seemed to be struggling with a particularly massive barrel.

“Captain Darrad?”

Said one of the guards, standing behind the man. Whirling around, the captain eyes the guards and the party. He had a blonde, braided beard on his chin, and his eyes were sharp and keen. Yet he did not seem so unfriendly as one might expect.

“Yes?”

“This group of travelers seek your services. I shall need to know if you shall be taking them or not. If not, I will escort them back.”

The captains eyes narrowed and he set his rather beefy hands on his hips.

“Ye seek my services do ye? Where be ye heading and what do ye have to offer? We make no side trips. We are stopping in Saradin, the Capital of Lethanon, an’ then we head to El Jalnine. That would be the Capital of Ralnaria.”

His eyes paused for a moment on Teros, before skittering over the others.

“Their be eight of you. I will accept ye for 5,000 Gold. You’ll be feeding yerselves though, and sharing two rooms. That’s all we have.”


(Well, I apologize for running you through the bartering and such…it eliminated much conversation and detail but oh well…we’re moving along now. Woot! We leave Eldarast!!!)

(OOC: Not gonna bother backposting, my character does nearly nothing important)

After meeting at the appropriated spot, where the monk had stood waiting for over a half hour before the others assembled after having completed their errands, the entire party moved through the now thick crowds of the midday. A scowl appeared, unnoticed, beneath the cowl of his hood when they were escorted, but he let the dishonor go. They would not, could not, know of their mission. If they did, the reaction could be of any varying styles, most of them hostile, or at least hindering. As much as humans changed things in their lifetime, such enormous changes as this news would bring could perhaps be even too much for these people.

The airlifts were almost as the shipyards that could be found at port cities on the coasts. Vilyamar had never travelled far by a ship, and had that had only been on a riverboat, once, a very long time ago. His eyes widened along with the others as they viewed the single airship that hung at the end of one of the catwalks. It was an awe-inspiring sight for them all, its gigantic wings like those of a fabled dragon-kin.

The captains eyes narrowed and he set his rather beefy hands on his hips while the guard explained the party's request.

“Ye seek my services do ye? Where be ye heading and what do ye have to offer? We make no side trips. We are stopping in Saradin, the Capital of Lethanon, an’ then we head to El Jalnine. That would be the Capital of Ralnaria.”

His eyes paused for a moment on Teros, before skittering over the others.

“Their be eight of you. I will accept ye for 5,000 Gold. You’ll be feeding yerselves though, and sharing two rooms. That’s all we have.”

Vilyamar looked about to the others and as they all nodded in agreement, he motioned to Elandor to come forward.

"The gem they gave us, Elandor. That should be suitable payment for our...accomodations. We have no other choice, it seems. We accept your offer," the half-elf said. The slight melodic tones in his voice may have aroused suspicions of the captain and any others in earshot. It did not matter much. He hid his identity to avoid arousing questions and badgering, not to prevent stories. It was a little amusing to know that he might be the focus of some story told by the captain. Perhaps it might even be blown out of proportion. He nearly laughed aloud at the thought of a tale of elven rangers travelling when it was this group of misfits. Though surely they could not mistake Scourge, nor Elandor, nor Mahou and having a Ralnarrian would be part of it as well. But the others might blend well.

The blue crystal was presented to the captain, watching it and him closely. Should the captain not accept it, it may likely be the end of their travels. But by the look in his eyes, and the guards, as Elandor produced the gem, Vilyamar believed that they had never seen such a single expensive stone ever. Except perhaps on royalty, but what royalty would stoop to this?

As the bard passed, a few words were hissed in animosity.

“Not every decision is your’s to make, so don’t act like it,”

The monk placed a hand on the bard's shoulder and kept it there, preventing the human from fleeing the conversation so quickly. "Do not forget who perhaps put us in dire straits before, young human. And this was not my decision, for it had already been decided. Next time, you may wish to take this role yourself...if you are competent in it..." Vilyamar said back in low undertones. The semi-leadership position had to be filled by someone, and since the Ralnarrian wasn't exactly opening up, nor was any of the others, Vilyamar thought it his duty to take that charge.
(EDITED! Sorry, Elandor for presuming, I let you present the gem)

Absently Elandor fingered the inn’s silverwair while the innkeeper pointed out where they needed to go on his old weathered map. A much prized possession, such a map. There was no doubt that Elandor wanted to have it. Still, he knew that stealing was wrong, and he didn’t want to lower himself to taking what wasn’t rightfully his. When they were ready to leave he jumped from his chair at the bar, a tin fork with a missing prong sticking from under his belt. The elven fork lay shining and silvery between the crumbs and cheese-bits on his plate.

The cool, pleasant chill of morning promised a great day. The visit they gave the general store was just the beginning of a series of exciting events. Elandor loved stores that were packed to the brim with stuff to buy… well, to finger, observe, feel, taste and absently slip in one’s pockets. Elandor bought rations for the flight, a small blanket and paid for a handful of nuts that somehow found their way into his vest pocket.

As the streets slowly filled Elandor and Scourge found the magic shop the innkeeper had pointed out. Amazement grabbed the kender on the shop’s doorstep. Was this his dream come true? A shop full of wonderful objects of mysterious power? His pouches would definitely be to small to carry all these items. The wild images of Elandor’s imagination were ripped to shreds by the arrival of the shopkeeper. The man made some comment of discrimination that the kender had long ago grown accustomed to. In fact, he understood that those kind of remarks were just a habit, and did not apply to him. Soon he found himself wandering the shop while Scourge bargained for a nice price for the mask Elandor had donated him when they first met.
His glasses were tight on his nose as he examined the items in the shop curiously. Maybe there was something they could trade for the mask? Something they needed on their journey?


The highlight of the day without a doubt was the entry of the inner city and the wonders that lay beyond. Elandor felt humbled under all the riches that radiated from all around him. It was not so much that diamonds were cobbling the streets, but an undertone of wealth was perceptible. Then the windship came into view. If he hadn’t been escorted by his friends Elandor would’ve let himself go into a jumping frenzy of excitement. The knowledge that he was to board such a beautiful and extraordinary vessel almost sent too much electric pulses through the small brain. Elandor’s toes tingled, wanting to sprint forward. His hands shook from holding back the urge to touch and feel this wonder of crafting.

Then he couldn’t resist any longer. He rushed ahead, running the stairs beyond the reach of the two guards. On the platform he stopped in awe, and very much like what had happened when they first arrived in the elven city, he remained standing in awe as the rest caught up with him.

Elandor was like a child that finds himself in a world of candy. Ok, ok, maybe he always feels like that, but this time it was obvious to all. He had explored every corner they let him visit in the blink of an eye and stood proud and momentous alongside the others as they approached the captain of the Nausicaa.

Triumphantly he produced the gem from his pockets and held it in front of the captains nose. He made sure not to let the man hold it. You never knew if it would somehow make it into the man’s pouches by accident.

Breakfast was finished quickly by Damien, who chose not to eat a great deal of food this morning. Rather, he simply listened quietly to the innkeeper describing the whereabouts of the windship docks and the local general stores. The bard’s first stop would be to purchase some rations for the trip, and then, to find the docks. The sooner they were off, the better they would be.

Excusing himself, Damien reached into a pocket and withdrew a few coins and the key he had earned the previous night. Tossing them down to the tabletop, he shouldered his pack and pulled his cloak about his lithe form. Near-silently, he crept out into the morning air, bidding a quick farewell to the innkeeper. Secretly, he took a quick look around for the barmaid whom he had shared some of his previous evening with, but failed to spot her in the common room. He would return, though. One day.

Setting out into the street, Damien saw that the city seemed almost dead this early in the morning. The throngs hadn’t yet appeared, and even the beggars were gone. Strange that such a large city would be vacant at this time. The few people he did spot looked at him from porches or street corners, though they were not condescending stares in any way. “Just need to get some food for the trip, and then find the docks.” He muttered to himself as he strode down the cobblestones.

Damien quickly found a general store that the innkeeper had spoken of, and entered the shop with his sole intent in mind. The shopowner bore a toothless smile, and seemed friendly enough. His shop offered more than he had expected, even though he had no real taste for fruitcake. It would be a bland number of meals, but he loaded up on enough jerked meat to last the trip.

However, the bard found himself quickly ridiculed when he inquired about a pair of boots that could mute sounds. By the display of laughter that was directed at him, Damien felt his dignity burning, and for the sake of what lay in remains, turned and left the store.

At least his prices were reasonable,

He figured that it would probably be best to regroup at the inn, and made his way there. Gathering with the others once again, the party set out to the windship docks. The kender seemed unable to control his excitement as he bounded around the streets, especially while they were present in the royal courtyard. The wonders of the city amazed Damien, but he had seen cities before. He knew that there was always an underside of it that rarely was seen by the noble caste. Or if it was, it was simply ignored.

Beggars sitting in doorways or on the streets held out open hands to the party, and they ignored the unfortunate individuals. Damien, however, felt sympathy for them, and tossed a few coins to each as they passed.

Aside from speaking a few words to the pitful souls on the streets, Damien was silent, even in the royal sector of the city. His prime focus was reaching the windship, and being on their way. There was no point in delaying the inevitable, and as they allowed the dark lord to muster his strength, the greater the chance that they would face annihilation at his hands.

The unusual design of the windship was unlike anything Damien had seen before, and stared at it with eyes of interest. They were confronted by the captain, a man named Darrad, who demanded payment of five thousand pieces of gold for their passage to El Jalnine. While Vilyamar assumed his usual ‘leadership’ role, he made an ass of himself by groping around inside of his pockets to seemingly no avail. It was Elandor that produced the diamond that was given to them for payment.

They would be sharing two rooms on the trip, which the bard felt no excitement for. Walking onto the ship, he stepped past Vilyamar, and as he strode past the half-breed, he hissed a few words to him. “Not every decision is your’s to make, so don’t act like it,”

Walking up to a handrail on the opposite side of the deck, Damien leaned his weight on it, staring out at what lay past the barriar. He’d better smarten up, he thought with a grimace on his face. His arrogance may well be the executioner’s axe for us all.

Scourge and Orion being of the first to awaken were out and about checking the value of the magic mask Elandor had gifted him with and purchasing the fabric with which to make the diminuative feller somewhat of a ensemble to show his thanks.

Making his way to the clothiers first it wasn't long before his eyes set upon some fine fabric and he had purchased and packed it away for further use. It was when he was on his way to the magic shop that Elandor caught up with him and as they both entered their eyes instantly wandered to the array of magicaql accountrements. Scourge and Orion may not have been pleased with the shopkeepers reference to the Kender kind, but only a grunt from Scourge was conveyed. After getting the price of the mask, and believing he now had the proper value of it known, Orion thanked the shopkeeper and perused the wares. He settled on purchasing a scroll of Leomunds Secret chest with 2 castings upon it and made his way from the store. Orion sat perched upon Elandor's shoulder as Scourge followed behind as they made their way to the lift and soon following onto the Airship.

(I apologize for the crap of it all, but comp access was limited and I wanted to get something in.. next one will be better as I'll be back to normal)