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Started by Johan, September 07, 2007, 03:13:42 PM

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Johan

This thread starts on Sprouting Grass / Egg 25, during the day after arriving at the Forest Keep, having recovered the remains of Dannobar.

The inn at the Forest Keep was more crowded than Belwar had ever seen it. It looked to him like they were also hard at work - and well on the way to - adding a second level to it. He had been thinking more and more lately that the Forest Keep seemed more like home to him than Eastwold had, especially since his father had died. He drank another quaff to his sire's memory.

There was a lot of talk and hammering and whatnot going on at the inn today. But under it all, Belwar thought that he detected a note that felt like mountains. He couldn't be sure whether it was a breath of air, or a scent or a sound amidst the cacophony of humans, or what. But there was a tremor - or a vitality that he sensed. As though the high plateau upon which the keep sat was quaking slightly. Or settling perhaps. Like the shivering feeling that one got on the eve before a battle, only deeper and more profound. It was a sensation that only a dwarf could appreciate. Very likely one that only a dwarf would be aware of.

There had been one day in Eastwold that Belwar had felt this sort of sensation, but that had been only once, and many years ago. The entire mountain's clans rejoiced then for a full week. The elders said that Moradin was walking the deepest tunnels under the mountain and he was happy. They had said that such an experience might come along once in your life, if you were lucky.

Belwar wasn?t sure why that memory surfaced so vividly today. When he tried to recapture the sensation, it was gone. But the recollections that it incited left Belwar happy. Right down to his axe.
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Griznuq

=]V[=

Johan

The sun was clear of the treeline now and shone upon Belwar's face as he rounded the corner outside the inn. There were several women standing around the well that was outside the inn, pulling buckets of water up and chatting familiarly.

As Belwar passed the small arms shop he noted that there was now a small shiney anvil outside of it and a small new-looking forge as well. The arms shop owner - Pike - was there as was a young elf. The two seemed to be looking over a finely crafted spear head that Belwar thought looked very familliar to him. It was long and elegant...elven work he was sure.

Continuing on his way, and trying to reconcile in his mind where he might have seen that particular spear head, he noted that the heat from the forge was upon him from an unusually far distance. From several paces away, he felt as though he were working in it.

He was brought up short abruptly by the figure of an elf right in front of him as he rounded the next corner. The elf was fairly nondescript, as elves tended to be, and was dressed is a very utilitarian manner in shades of gray and olive. He seemed as surprised by Belwar's appearance as Belwar was by the elf's.

"Sorry." He said quickly. "I didn't mean to...OH!" He interrupted himself upon seeing Belwar. "Oh, you're Belwar, are you not? The warrior that has helped Corris so much? It was you that I came looking for." He looked expectantly at Belwar.
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Griznuq

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Johan

"Well," the young elf said. "All things can wait to one extent or another. But I've a need to talk with you on that red pendant that you wear. Corris wanted me to investigate it a bit, and I'd like to ask you some quesitons on it, and try to understand it's nature."

"It's not truly critical right now, but the longer we take we might find that we've more issue to unravel. Go on to the chaple if you like, but seek me out later. I should be back to the keep this afternoon."

He stepped aside as he spoke so as to allow Belwar the opportunity to move past him easily.
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Griznuq

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Johan

Upon glimpsing the pendant, the elf's right eyebrow raised more than a bit. "Not here." He said conspiritorially. "Not every eye that can see this place is as friendly as every other eye." He surveyed the courtyard serruptitiously as he spoke.

"Come along to a more private place where we can talk with candor. Again. We can do this later this day if you like."
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Griznuq

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Johan

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Griznuq

"Dragon scale, aye, that's right," Belwar said, as he removed the pendant, and handed it to Trillomore.

Belwar didn't want to seem rude, but he certainly was looking forward to that stout. He glanced about the room looking for a vessel that might contain such a thing. He didn't see anything obvious.

It made Belwar uneasy to hand over the pendant, which was something Belwar did not expect. He didn't know what the thing did, but he knew it was powerful. Things had gone fairly well with it, in the recent past however, and change was not something Belwar welcomed.

He sat, slightly antsy but quietly.
=]V[=

Johan

Trillomore scrutinized the pendant with great concentration. "Warm." He murmured as he bent the malleable scale experimentally. He flipped it over and over in his hands, mumbling now and then. He even sniffed it and put it to his lips as if to taste it.

Belwar grew more and more antsy as the elf inspected the pendant, but after a few moments he was distracted by the emergence of another elf - or the head of another elf - from the floor at the back corner of the room. This second elf ascended into the room, moving from the wall on the right (where his head appeared) to the wall on the left as though he were climbing a set of stairs. Or perhaps a ramp. He moved without making any sound, and he was familiar to Belwar; the dwarf was sure that he had seen this elf before. More importantly, the elf was now carrying with him a tray that bore a heavy pewter pitcher with a matching mug and a decanter of some reddish liquid. Also, there were two crystal goblets as well.

"Do you prefer your stout cold or warm, Belwar?" The second elf asked. Belwar was sure that he had seen this elf here in the Keep.
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Griznuq

"Ah," Belwar started to reply. "You know, if'n it's all the same, I'm really feelin a little sick. Tired perhaps, I think it'd be in me best interest to forgo the beer."

Belwar never thought he'd have ever done something like turn down beer, but this whole situation was just a little too strange.

The elf with the beer seemed to come out of no where, and how'd he know to bring it?? This Trillosomething fellow hadn't called him or anything.

There was most certainly magic afoot here, and that had always made Belwar uncomfortable.

Melzak had used a lot of magic and caused more than his share of trouble. For all  Belwar knew, this WAS Melzak.

And who was this other Elf. Belwar just couldn't put his finger on it, and it was gnawing at him. Well, what better way to find an answer than to ask a question?

Belwar furrowed his brow and asked, "You there, Lad. I've seen ye before, but I cannot recall where. I don't believe it was here in the keep though."
=]V[=

Johan

The young elf cocked his head and blinked as if in perplexion.

"Actually, sir," He said. "It *was* here at the keep. I am Targyle. Coris had charged me two or three weeks ago to look into this very scale and Hemo's pendant, and how magical they were. You will recall that this scale was beyond my ability to divine. But Trillomore here is far more experienced than I am." Targyle leaned forward and whispered hoarsely at Belwar then, saying, "He studied under Lokian."

The elf straightened up then, placing his burden upon the table, and set to pouring some of the red liquid into the two crystal goblets. "Are you sure you wouldn't like something? Tea prehaps, if you're feeling ill?" He asked solicitously.
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Griznuq

Belwar looked off to the side as he thought for a moment. "Ah," he said.

"I ah... You'll have to excuse me, I'm still a little out of sorts from the wend," did they know about the wendigo??

"From the road. I'll be alright, thanks." Even if the stuff in the pitcher was just beer, Belwar would have felt better drinking something he knew had nothing to do with magic.

Besides, there were rumors amoung the dwarven metalergists about pewter being bad to drink from.

"So eh, Trillemore, was it? ...ever seen one o these before?"

Belwar hoped Targyle'd bugger off if he was payed no further mind.
=]V[=

Johan

Much to Belwar's irritation, Targyle sat in one of the two remaining vacant chairs and sipped his goblet while turning keen interest upon Trillomore and Belwar...and the pendant.

"No, not exactly." Trillomore answered. "I've seen similar workings from whelp scales, or even wyvern, but this scale appears to be from a True Dragon...exceedingly rare."

He sandwiched the scale between his hands, as if trying to feel his hands through the scale itself.

"Can you tell me what you feel when you wear it?" He asked. "Does the scale seem to have any affect on you?" He closed his eyes again as he explored the scale with his deilcate-looking fingers.
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