Griznuq Gaming

D&D Campaigns => Eberron => In Character Discussions => Topic started by: Dray on November 25, 2008, 07:48:22 PM

Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 25, 2008, 07:48:22 PM
Temmit stood at the front fence and stared at it, emotion flooding through him. He had decided to keep his head down during the entire length of the road that was the end of his journey. Thinking to himself that perhaps if he waited until he was actually in front of it, he would look up and it would be gone.

But it wasn't gone. It was there.

Temmit stood in front of his parents house for the first time since he was discovered there as a child.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 25, 2008, 09:12:33 PM
Temmit tightened another band of reason on the mental chest that contained his emotions. He bit his tongue in the doing. The chest swelled a bit as an emotion tried to escape; a surprisingly content scene flashed momentarily in his mind: this was his yard where he used to play with his mother. He repressed even the good emotions, tightening that new band all the more.

One gets out, they all might get out. He reminded himself.

He had walked for days to get all the way out here from Our Commons, and now that he was there, sore legs, blisters and all, he wasn't sure that the last twenty paces were a good idea.

He stood there sweating in the summer sun for a long time. Exactly how long he wasn't even sure.

All the while he put more bindings upon his chest: This was part of his healing process; it was stupid to walk that far and not go inside; the house was his now, and nothing bad had ever happened there anyway.

At length, it wasn't logic, strictly speaking, that drove his legs those last twenty paces. It was thirst, and the need to sit somewhere. It was the descending sun, and the knowledge that he wasn't going to sleep standing up half a stone's throw from a bed.

Twenty paces shrank, one by one, until the front door opened.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 25, 2008, 09:27:00 PM
Beyond the door was exactly what Temmit expected, the ghosts of memories walking about a family room he had spent so many tender years in. They fled as quickly as it took the door to fully open to allow the invasion of shadows within. The perfect and lonely stillness of the void almost immediately suffocated him, as if he had opened a door into a vacuum.

Beyond this family room he knew waited the rest of the small, single level farmhouse. The kitchen, the bathroom and the bedrooms of both his mother and father and his sisters. The thought of those rooms and the spirits they contained almost made him bolt from the entry at that exact moment.

But he held fast.

'One step at a time, let's get water first and then worry about inspection of all rooms,' he thought to himself, but still didn't make a move in.

Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 25, 2008, 10:01:14 PM
The last time that Temmit was there he was only a toddler. Still, the layout of the building was etched in his mind like the scars that were etched in his flesh: stable and permanent.

His eyes darted around the interior and every now and then an image of someone in one place or another flashed in his mind. His mother entering the kitchen. His father at the fire. Himself hiding from someone.

The sound of heel on slate echoed in his ears. The smell of bread haunted his nose.

Water. He reminded himself. He left the doorway and headed around back to the well. Unconsciously he unsnapped the leather thong that restrained his sword in its scabbard.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 25, 2008, 10:59:34 PM
The backyard grass was overgrown and the fence fallen in a few places, but the back windows to the house were intact and it looked like no one had bothered the property for all these years.

Either the hunters had done a fine job chasing off tresspassers, or people's superstitions of entering the house of a family wiped out by Karh'Thul kept them away.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 26, 2008, 08:21:03 AM
Yo, Dood...I need a map, and you seem to have in your mind what this property looks like.

Any chance you can sketch what you're thinking of, even in MSPaint (or toss it to wildflower who can crank it out in no time)? I'm lacking visuals here, and they would help me wrap my mind around what's going on, what's next...stuff like that.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 26, 2008, 12:43:39 PM
I'm on it, I love making maps!
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Griznuq on November 26, 2008, 03:37:03 PM
(http://{e_FILE}public/1227731814_6_FT10412_janalius_home_paper_.png) (http://{e_FILE}public/1227731814_6_FT10412_janalius_home_paper.png)
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 26, 2008, 06:29:15 PM
Thanks for posting this for me G.

Johan, I am thinking this is a good rough draft. The cellar would be granite stone walls with mortar and fairly dry. It also is tall enough to be usable storage space.

There is also your father's hunting shed outside, a single room cottage with running water that he used for skinning animals. And yes, both houses have running water from a well, no hot water though.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 27, 2008, 07:33:47 PM
Temmit surveyed the house as he slowly drew water up from the well. The rope that he used to lift the bucket was in need of replacing, but it held nonetheless.

The water was cool and clean, although the bucket was also in need of replacing, and lent a woody flavor to the water. He drank deeply, for perhaps too long as he stared at the house.

It's only a property. He thought, adding another strap of reason to his emotional chest.

He knew that he needed to go inside. He would need a fire, as even in the height of summer nights could be cool. There was a wood pile next to the house, but most of the wood was well rotten and Temmit knew that it would burn quickly.

That's good. He thought. He would need to collect and cut firewood the following day, and every day, really, throughout the summer. In addition to finding food and figuring out how he might get from one day to the next. He might be too busy to have time that might afford an emotion to get loose from his chest.

With a last moutfull of water, he controlled his emotions, steeled his resolve, and went back to the front of his family' and in. First order of business would be a reintroduction to the family room. He yawned deeply as he circled the house.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 28, 2008, 07:50:31 AM
Temmit circled the home and inspected the remaining exterior walls as he did so. Not a window was broken and everything looked to be intact. He supposed it was more than he could hope for.

He made it back to the open front door that would take him immediately into the family room of the small, single-level home. He stood looking at it while surrounded by the once-familiar quiet of the place. The Janalinus homestead was very secluded at the end of a road only the occasional hunter or forester travelled.

(OOC: FYI, you will be receiving a visitor during the early evening, so please do not take the thread beyond that point in time.)
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 28, 2008, 10:01:41 AM
No worries...from here the ball's pretty much in your court anyway. As far as I can see, he's just poking around."

BTW, on that map, which way is north?

Temmit walked slowly and over-softly into the house. The air needed to be changed, and it seemed somehow colder inside than out. He opened the windows in the family room to change both of these things.

Fire. He thought. That needed to be the first order of business. It wouldn't do to use the last few hours of daylight refamilliarizing himself with the home, and then not be able to see.

He comforted himself, delving into the task of inspecting the fireplace and flue, and then building a small fire. It wouldn't take too much to keep the place warm overnight, but the wood would be consumed quickly.

As he settled into what was really a very non-emotional task, he was able to stop concentrating so much on the bindings of his emotional chest, and thereby moved more quickly and surely.

The fire started, he went looking for oil for the lamps, or failing that, candles. After all these years, he wondered whether either would still be combustible.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 28, 2008, 11:33:24 AM
(OOC: Refer to the map on page 1. Shall I add a fireplace to the family room? Or shall we consider that you went into Nalla's bedroom and started one?)
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 28, 2008, 02:32:24 PM
Oh! Sorry! I would expect a fireplace in the family room, since that's the primary area where daily life would be conducted.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 28, 2008, 04:26:27 PM
My thought was opposite, I placed one in each bedroom (two bedrooms share one) and allowed the heat to emanate from the sleeping areas into the central room. Just another way to skin the cat.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on July 07, 2009, 09:00:06 AM
We need to regroup on this. I'll forward an e-mail, very likely tonight.

Specific Points:
I'm feel pretty strongly about the positions of the fireplaces. "Vintage" architecture would have a single fire in the living area, since while you slept you were well insluated from cold, and the stones (which were hard to find and create into a fireplace / chimney) would heat the place residually through the night - everyone gets the benefit from that heat, and it made the building easier.

I have a recollection that at this point, Temmit didn't have Smokey. I think there's an e-mail (from what: years ago?) that suggests that this is the ICD where Temmit meets Smokey. I have to look that up.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on July 07, 2009, 12:07:14 PM
Correct. I deleted my post and upon our finished collaboration and review of the heating requirements of the home we will proceed.

I have a girl in hell to attend too first.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on July 08, 2009, 12:36:40 PM
In the family room, Temmit had sat within his father’s old chair and by the fire for hours. He had initially convinced himself that he needed a short rest after the long journey to his former home. It was now late, and after one hour turned to two, two turned to three, his new excuse not to investigate the bedrooms was now to wait for dawn and the morning light.

He didn’t want to sleep here, but he obviously had no choice, his body was going to need at least a short reprieve from his mind. As he thought of how to combat the inevitable, the fire was begging him for another log and his coffee had long since turned cold. The desire to change either of these two conditions did not win over his fatigue and after a few times of startling himself awake, his heavy eyelids finally closed for the last time and he slipped into…

He sat on the floor playing with a wood puzzle that he had already solved a hundred times. His Daddy sat by the fire in his big chair, his long legs crossed under a thin stone tile which he used often as a portable writing surface.

His mother was only a few further feet away in the kitchen, her arms elbow-deep in dishwater suds.

Nalla would be home in a few days after her year in school and Temmit couldn’t wait to wrap his arms around his big sister.

He watched his parents as they ‘did it again’. Without looking at one another, they both took turns making facial expressions, or actually laughing or smirking, even though only silence filled the gaps in between. Only once in awhile would they actually say something out loud, often startling their three-year old son in the process.

Temmit was used to this, and he too had learned to talk to his inside voice. He just couldn’t wait until the day when he could use it like Mommy and Daddy did, because his own voice never answered back.

His Mommy, drying her hands on a dishtowel as she walked, went over behind her husband.
“Freehand again?” she said with a smile, breaking the silence. She leaned over his shoulder and picked up a sketch that he had laid in wait on the chair’s arm.

His father didn’t reply, but a few moments later his mother replied as if continuing like he had, “…yes well, you barely know this priest and yet he shares his….” she stopped. She turned and looked to Temmit, a look on her face as being caught doing something naughty.

Temmit knew he had caught her talking to Daddy;s inside voice, so he performed his signature ‘gotcha’ move. With a big, single-swing and slow wave he said “Heyas.”
She burst out laughing and although she started walking to him, she turned back to his Daddy. He looked at her in response to whatever she was saying to his inside voice, then looked at Temmit as he replied “not to worry”.

His Mommy reached him and the puzzle and leaned over to kiss him on the head, she then cupped his chin with her soft hand, still cold from the dishwater.

“You are adorable,” she said to him. She smelled pleasantly of soap.

“I know,” Temmit responded matter of factly, “it’s my job,’ verifying the job description that his Daddy gave him last week. At the time, Temmit had wanted to know how he could help around the house. He was always glad to help.

The scene faded with Temmit’s last dreamscape focused on the adoration coming from his mother’s eyes. His consciousness slipped deeper into sleep, a sleep far more serene than anything he had experienced since he was that toddler age.

Many hours later, Temmit awoke on the floor of his family room. The sun through the window had warmed the blanket upon his lieing form. A blanket he hadn’t recalled retrieving at any point in the night.

He lay their feigning sleep for awhile, wondering if anyone was in the room with him. Finally satisfied that he was alone, he looked about. The fire had gone out, and everything was in it’s proper place in the family room.

Perhaps he did indeed retrieve it…it smelled like soap.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on July 08, 2009, 08:34:46 PM
Temmit's senses were on high as he rose and streatched his sore muscles. His stomach growled noisily.

As he rolled out from under the blanket the full cool of the morning settled upon him. He knew that it was likely very warm out, but it was cooler than being under the blanket, and so he shivered a bit.

Breakfast was a pleasant pot of coffee and hard bread with salted meat. He cast about the small house as he ate it. He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone. However, his eyes and ears belied his nagging gut.

After he was done eating, and couldn't think of any more excuses to NOT look around, he got his day under way, looking about in the house. He started in his own room.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on July 09, 2009, 12:30:02 PM was, after all, the easiest of the three bedrooms.

From the moment he opened the door he felt too big, every piece of furniture obviously being a lot smaller than he remembered it. The air was stale, so he walked the few steps across the room to pull back the old and dusty curtains to open the room’s window.

The sunlight poured in, revealing a toddler-sized bed, a shelf of toys (including the neatly stacked infamous puzzle) and a bureau that probably still contained a bunch of little-person clothes. Temmit knew that there wouldn’t be anything of value to him here, 12 years later, and that the only thing to find here however, was memories. Memories with characters almost visible as ghosts performing in that very room…

“Time for bed soldier!” exclaimed his father happily. Temmit who had been carried into the room, was tossed across it. He landed with a bounce off the bed and a ricochet off the back wall. The three year old squealed in glee even as he recovered and then climbed under the covers.

His Daddy leaned over to tuck in the youngster, his long, slightly-blue colored crystal dangling on a leather throng from his neck.

“We will go riding tomorrow?!” Temmit asked, already knowing the answer, but just wanting to hear verification for the sheer thrill of the idea.

“Yes, we certainly will,” he replied.

Nalla spoke from the bedroom doorway, “And Mommy has a big picnic basket with chicken, chocolate and apple cider,” she said, naming her favorite things.

“And coffee snips?!” Temmit asked, naming his favorite candy.

His father nodded as he reached into his pocket while hiding his actions from the view of his daughter behind him. He pulled out and offered a coffee snip to Temmit while he made a shushing gesture with his forefinger to his lips.

Temmit barely contained himself as he grabbed the secret delicacy.

His Dad paused, mussed his hair and then wished him good dreams as he ushered Nalla out.

“You gave him a snip didn’t you Dad?” Temmit heard Nalla ask as the door closed.

“What? Mommy would kill me, I dare not risk it,” was the muffle reply Temmit heard.

“Nothing to find here,” Temmit said to the empty room as he choked back the once forgotten memory. 'Perhaps this wasn't the easiest room.'
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on July 09, 2009, 12:40:59 PM
Temmit strapped his chest tightly again. He intentionally and intently inspected the room for signs of termites, mice, or other potentially destructive vermin. Cobwebs decorated the room all about, and husks of insects littered the corners of the room.

He quickly opened the window to change the air and left the room, barely breathing as he did.

Once back in the family room his jaw unclenched a bit and he breathed again. Perhaps Nalla's room would be a better choice. He made his way mechanically across the family room.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on July 09, 2009, 01:00:00 PM
As he stepped into Nalla’s room Temmit smirked, he had almost forgotten how odd her bed was. The frame wasn’t a frame at all, but a section of tree-truck as if cut parallel with the ground. It was a very valuable piece of the ancient pine from the outlands and almost six full feet in diameter and almost a foot thick. It was pedestal mounted on an ornate system of cast iron “roots”.

Temmit again opened a window and almost startled himself at his own reflection in the mirror over the bureau. She was only a few years older when she…well, a few years older and just getting to the “play dress up” stage. Make-up kits, brushes and costume jewelry were neatly arranged along the bureau’s top.

The back door to the house opened and their father, along with the driving snow, entered the corridor adjacent to her room (note, I am reworking the map to reflect this). All of his riding gear had just been thrown on in a hurry and his wife came over to him  (from the family room) now to strap it all down.

Nalla and Temmit, who had been playing in her room, watched the scene unfold before Nalla’s bedroom doorway.

“Do you have everything? Enough food and water? It’s going to take a lot longer to reach the Keep cross-country in this mid-winter snow,” their Mommy said. She was speaking in a nervous rush as she tightened and fixed his cold-weather gear.

Their Daddy cupped her chin with his gloved hand to make her stop fussing, she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I will be alright,” he said to her, almost in a whisper.

She hugged him, turning her face towards her children as her head lay on his chest. When she opened her eyes, she suddenly smiled as she looked upon her to children in audience.

“Yes…but will Temmit?” she asked.

His Daddy turned to look in the room and they both tried unsuccessfully to stifle their laughter.

Temmit was standing next to his sister, his now very proud make-up artist, while wearing one of his sister’s old dresses. His hair was in pig-tails and his face was lined with every color of make-up from the kit. Nalla just smiled and enjoyed the display of her handiwork.

The moment of stress was relieved. His Mommy kissed his Daddy goodbye and he departed.

Temmit released himself from the memory and focused on what his eyes had been staring at it, Nalla’s Academic – Age 6 schoolbooks, the title ‘Good Faith, Good Citizen’ the title of the top one.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on July 09, 2009, 01:14:04 PM
Temmit regretted that it was that particular memory that climbed out from his subconscious. Had Nalla still been with him, no doubt it would be a sore spot that she had violated him that way.

Temmit fed the irritation, trying to coax it into full aggrivation, lest it descend toward lamentation. The bed, naturally, was in good though dusty condition. The window was a little sticky and the glass of it was dirty. Dust and cobwebs decorated the room, and again there were insect husks about under those cobwebs. There was evidence that mice had visited the room as well.

Nothing of true interest though. He opened the wardrobe, fully expecting nothing but girl's musty clothes. His parents' room would be next then.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on July 16, 2009, 12:22:46 PM
His parents’ window didn’t open as easily as the others, having jammed after years of non-use. Temmit made a mental note on his check-list of things to fix and forced it open.

Turning around, he faced the room and its very simple furnishings.

Temmit lay on his stomach under the bed waiting for his father to come in so he could roll out from underneath and spook him. He wished his father would hurry, it was so cramped under here with all of his parent’s things. Even the edge of the trapdoor in the floor was starting to bother him, his father must not have shut it all the way, and it was now poking him in the ribs. He was tempted to look inside, but the last time he attempted that, and got caught, was a subsequent lecture from his mother that he would never forget.

Just as he considered investigating the trapdoor anyway, his father stepped into the room, Temmit squealed in glee a little too early as he rolled from underneath and…

“That is quite enough of the memory department today thank you,” Temmit said aloud, vanquishing the vision into the back of his mind. The emotional strap about his chest was constricting and he took a moment to loosen up.

He stared at the bed for he knew not how long. Finally, he flipped the mattress (just barely big enough for two people) away from the steel frame. Through the steel mesh he scanned the contents that appeared to have laid untouched for the last twelve years.

It was the trapdoor in the floor that caught his immediate attention. It wasn’t hidden by boxes, but only had it’s frame surrounded by them. Upon the closed trapdoor, as if placed there, was his father’s 4” long quartz crystal, alone and without the leather throng that once carried it.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on July 16, 2009, 12:47:09 PM
Temmit's initial curiosity regarding the belongings that had always been under that bed, as well as that regarding the trap door, melted away at the sight of the small crystal.

It was one of his father's most treasured possessions, though why, exactly, Temmit never knew. It was odd: Temmit was sure that the crystal had been a rather bright blue for the most part. This one was dull and clear. He wondered whether it was the very same crystal, but he held the conviction that it was. It was exactly the same shape and size, if not color. He momentarily doubted his memory.

The fact that it was here was more than odd. Who put it there? When? Why? Where was the leather thong? As these questions and more shot through his mind, he unconsciously reached down and picked the little stone up, examining it rather closely. It was dusty.

He sat down on the bed frame and regarded the crystal for a moment, peeking through it and around it, looking at the other items that lay arrayed before him.

The thought ocurred to him: this might well be a long day.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on July 17, 2009, 12:22:37 PM
Item after item he sifted thru, occasionally one would bring back a small memory of either parent. Temmit, concentrating on the task at hand, catalogued each memory into a mental file that he could reference at a later time if required.

He wasn’t second in his House for nothing (‘damn that Jeremy Wilkins!’).

There was nothing of seeming importance upon the floor and he was left with only the unknown content beyond the trapdoor, which he slowly opened. He cursed himself immediate afterwards though, “it could have been trapped stupid!” he reprimanded himself.

“Remember your training boy,” he said, repeating the words of his HouseMaster Hovric.

He scanned the contents.

Laying atop everything was his father’s leather “sketching satchel”. Temmit was immediately disturbed however, for his trained eye noted something amiss. He left the room, retrieved an old oil lantern and brought it back to examine this recently revealed evidence.

As the dry wick and old oil spat smoke with a flame that was an angry flicker, he used the light to take a closer look at the layer of dust within the cavity in the floor. As he suspected, he saw an outline (of dust) left behind by items no longer there. The theft was further betrayed by the slight impression upon the leather satchel left behind by weight of the missing items. Upon careful consideration he demised that the two stolen goods were; a book of about 7” x 10” and something else that was 4” in diameter, the latter having some heft and probably therefore metal. Judging the distance between the recently closed trapdoor and the top of the satchel, both items couldn’t have been more than about an inch thick.

This evidence investigated fully, Temmit cautiously lifted his father’s satchel out of the cavity in the floor and set it aside.

Items covered by the satchel could be defined as his father’s treasure. A fine looking dagger with a aquamarine gem in it’s hilt lay in an ornate scabbard. Beside it, some kind of incredibly old tomb or journal, it’s black leather cover dried from the ages and cracked. The cover was so dry that it’s corners were frayed at the edges with the upper right corner actually missing. There was no markings or title upon the face of the book.

Adjacent to the bottom of this old book was what appeared to be a bag of coins, the cloth around which revealed its contents after settling over the years as the bag lie in wait. To the right of these items was a column of small books stacked two by three. Temmit recognized them as his father’s personal journals.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on August 02, 2009, 09:46:09 PM
The satchel was laden with a number of somethings that Temmit decided to investigate later. The threadbare bag of coins caught his eye instantly, and piqued his curiosity just as quickly.

The things that had been removed from thier place on top of the satchel had been so removed only recently. The circle of dust was testament to that. BUT, why take those two posessions, and leave a full bag of coins and an ornamented dagger only a hand's-width away?

Temmit wondered what it might be that was worth someone taking when money was not worth their taking? Then, of course, it suggested that the intruder knew what he (or she) was after, and knew where it was (none of the other rooms had been tampered with, afterall), and that the round thing as well as the book (or plaque, or whatever it might have been) were far more valuable to them than the money odd thought to be sure. The dagger, Temmit could understand: it might be traceable, and the intruder might be given away by it.

THEN, there was the fact that the intruder also placed everything back where it had been. Had the little crystal that was found been in that spot before the intruder? Why would they have put that back where they did?

There was nothing but questions so far. Of the items left in the little cubby, the ancient book drew Temmit's attention. He carefully reached for the book and lifted it from the storeage area with the greatest care.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on August 30, 2009, 03:34:25 PM
Temmit  placed the book down flat on an empty space on the floor, clear from the boundary of his parents bed-frame. Cautiously, so as not to damage the fragile book, he moved the tattered cover open with one finger to reveal the front page.

A bit to his surprise the very first page was not a title page as he had expected, but a wall of text bereft of an indent. For all indication it appeared a continuation of another volume of work.

What was more disturbing however was that the text appeared to be some sort of symbolic code, and a complex one at that. Temmit had heard of such things but could not make sense of it.

(The text is just in a different language and Temmit doesn’t recognize this fundamental concept. Why? Because “languages” do not exist in this world, since everyone in Safe-Haven speaks one common language. The idea or notion that anyone could write, let alone write, in another language is an alien concept).
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on September 04, 2009, 09:26:29 AM
Mysteries stacked upon mysteries. The odd glyphs, of course, posed questions (mostly what they meant and how he might read them - had Temmit's mother or father been able to read them?), the fact that this book looked to be a second volume (where would the first be? Had the first been stolen? Why steal only one?).

Temmit wondered whether the twin to this book might be around the house...the only obvious place would be on the shelf in his own room. Under Nalla's matress would be another spot to look. A foot-thick piece of ancient pine might be a good spot to hide things, and hiding things seemed to be in someone's blood (very likely his father's if all these memories served).

A thought spawned in his mind regarding these thefts. The oddity of them was that some things were stolen while other (obviously valuable things) were not. One possible reason for this is that the items that had been taken might have been so taken by an ally. Perhaps they would be incriminating items, or had belonged to someone close to Temmit's father, and they came to either reclaim them or to take them lest Temmit's family (now only Temmit himself, naturally) be prosecuted for their possession.

He would have to digest these thoughts through the summer. In either event, these items were likely as safe under the trap door today as they had been yesterday. He flipped through the pages of the tome quickly to see if there were any illustrations or any common text hidden in the pages. At the same time, he more or less hoped that he might be able to determine whether there was any more recent text towards the end of the writing. Say...text from 12 years ago?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on September 04, 2009, 07:59:25 PM
Temmit was careful but he flipped two quickly and a section of some of the more brittle pages literally cracked in half. He was careful to put them back into the book where they were and flipped the book over by it's cover so he could better turn to the end.

Unfortunately the symbolic writing was the same at the back as it was in the front. What's more, it appeared to not actually end on the last page, speaking to the possibility of a third volume.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on September 07, 2009, 06:06:48 PM
These were crazy tidings indeed. Not a single answer, and more questions. With the utmost care he could muster, Temmit closed the tome and placed it back where he had found it. He needed to let the mysteries settle in his mind.

He then turned his attention to the contents of his father's satchel.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on September 07, 2009, 06:46:12 PM
The parchment within the satchel had yellowed with age, but Temmit found the sheets to be in good condition nonetheless. Each of the half dozen or so sketches were pressed flat from lying in its hiding place for so long.

The top rendering pulled immediately upon the emotional band about Temmit’s chest, but not only due to sorrow, but from utter newfound pride. The exquisite detail and artistry his father could attain with only a piece of graphite amazed him.

He stared at the sketch of his mother, his sister and himself for quite some time. At some point he broke from the spell and turned his minds’ eye on the task at hand, clues of his family’s past. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be found in this one.

He respectfully slid the family portrait to the side to reveal the next rendering of the pile, which he had placed next in a clear space amongst all the items on the floor.

The next sketch caused Temmit to make a low whistle in approving awe (once again) at the beautiful detail etched upon the parchment. The graphite on this second sheet depicted a Keep at the edge of a forested cliff with an open field before it. Within this open field were thousand of Karh’Thul advancing upon the Keep, and at the fields’ center a massive Karh’Thul two extra arms and a height that towered over its’ peers.

Although he had never been there, Temmit assumed it was Council’s Edge, the Keep of the Warden Council. This confused him though, for why would his father sketch a battle that never occurred? Ulstag was a thousand years ago, and in no part of Kaine Scripture or any history lesson lectured to Temmit was there an account of Ulstag leading demons in an attack upon Council’s Edge.

Temmit immediately wanted to dismiss the importance of the picture as a passing fancy of the artist, but some internal voice, like whispering smoke, nagged at him not to do so. He therefore started to scan the picture with the skills of an age 14’er from the House of Scribes.

The Keep, wonderfully detailed despite its small and far-away presence within the center of the sketch, sat at the edge of a chasm that divided the Keep from the open field. About the field was a nightmare of demons, most walking about and doing nothing of consequence (except looking evil). However there were two disturbing groups of Karh’Thul that were the exception. His father had sketched a dozen “KT” standing at attention in a circle around Ulstag. As if they were a special contingent awaiting orders. This was not a characteristic common to these wild demons, even though it was somewhat hinted at in the legend of the Battle of Millengarde. And since the story of Millengarde was regarded more as a fable of religion than actual history, this vision gave Temmit some concern.

“Or are you just being an artist of fiction Father?” he asked the empty bedroom.

The other group of demons was also not acting like typical KT….for they were building something. The mass of black bodies obscuring the construction from view, but Temmit did spy discern an obvious mechanical arm with a king of launching pad, indicating some mangorel device(?) One KT was even “directing” a few of the others who were lifting the back end of the machine, almost as if the KT was having them “point” it.

The idea of the KT being militarily organized and communicative in this way would have made Temmit laugh if he wasn’t so frightened the sketch’s life-like detail. It was then that Temmit picked up a minute detail that had thus far eluded him. The small glow on the horizon line behind and to the right of the Keep…it was NOT the rising or setting sun as he had first assumed. For the watch tower search lanterns were fully ablaze, the glow of the mirror-reflected fire spotlights scanning sharply the enemy down below.

So what was the light on the horizon?

(Feel free to email me with any out-of-game questions, or post them here, whichever is your preference).
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on September 13, 2009, 03:56:42 PM
a gentle ping
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on September 17, 2009, 12:36:57 PM
This, I think, is one of your best posts to date. There are so many things that older Temmit is aware of that would play out here, and there are many tantilizing tid-bits cast about so chaotically, it speaks of a great evil genious. Kudos, Mr. Dray.

Some internal voice, like whispering smoke...

A few of the spotty memories that he had experienced this day knitted themselves together with considerable alacrity - Temmit's father must have been on the Warden Council. His recollection of his father headed out in his snow gear corroborated that notion. But why would this be hidden from Temmit?

Because you were three, idiot. His inner voice answered him. Temmit chuckled a bit then; his inner voice had never insulted him before.

Something told him that this picture wasn't mere fantasy on the part of a bored but brilliant artist. Dozens of pictures that his father had sketched came into Temmit's mind, one after the other, ascending from early memory. Pictures of Temmit, Nalla, Mother, and Father. Other people who Temmit could see, but didn't know the names of - hunters, mostly - all of them had something in common: they were all scenes of things that actually happened, and of people who were known to Temmit's father. None were fantasy.

If he could take this image as evidence - the voice of a long-dead witness - then, the Karh'Thul weren't quite the same as conventional wisdom held them. But Temmit realized another thing: he really had no working experience of Karh'Thul (he bound his chest again). Everything that he knew about them was learned from school, taught by the same people who held the Battle of Millengarde to be fable and fancy.

The thing about conventional wisdom: it was always colored by the prejudice and bias of those telling it. And it would be a far better truth that Karh'Thul were anarchistic beasts who thoguht no further than killing what was in front of them as opposed to thinking, calculating, intelligent enemies. Perhaps he should read more closely the Battle of Millengarde, not to mention all other "fables".

Next picture. His inner voice prompted him.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 04, 2009, 02:09:22 PM
Thank you for the kind words, one of the greatest compliments a player can give a DM is “great evil genius”. Truth be told, it’s so fulfilling to give you a glimpse into the rabbit hole, now I just got to kick all you players into it… is a deep hole.

Temmit scanned the demon siege sketch for almost an entire hand, looking for answers to unknown mysteries. He studied it so long that he committed the image to permanent memory. He found himself willing the graphite image to come alive proceed through its history and show him how the story ended, despite what horror he may see. But alas, it stayed in static form and did not obey the will of his fantasy. Finally, his curiosity broke through the obsession with this glimpse of horror, and commanded him to shift to the next page.

Gently shifting the Keep sketch to the side, he was again not disappointed on the next parchment with the exquisite detail from his father’s hand. The drawing depicted a scene that although simple, was immersed in one specific unique detail that immediate caught Temmit’s attention, his heart again raced at its portent.

(A detail I will save to the end).

It was another Keep (map forthcoming in post or by hard copy delivery), or more specifically, an estate surrounded by a square of four high stone walls. The view of the artist was from above, at its southeast corner (for sake of conveyance here), looking down into the courtyard shared by four buildings within its interior. A gatehouse was in the eastern wall which was drawn away from the artist to the right (leading north).

The walls were twenty feet tall and made of what appeared to be the same granite used in the Our Commons, they spanned hundreds of feet away to the artist left hand side (leading west) and almost as far to the right (again, north).

The gatehouse, sitting in the middle of the right wall, which was assumed the entrance to the Keep, was twice as high. It had what appeared to be an exterior door that led out onto the top of the twenty foot wall. It also has what appeared to be murder holes at the appropriate human height level around the structure at this level. Its flat roof (at forty feet tall) was made of what could only be Outlands wood, bordered by granite buttresses.

Northwest of the Gatehouse and within the courtyard, stood a circular tower that was ten feet higher and also made of the same granite. It had a few murder holes fifteen feet above ground (second floor) and windows about twenty-five (third floor), thirty-five (fourth floor) and forty-five (fifth floor) above ground. Its roof was also made of Outlands timber but formed an upside down cone at the top.

The largest structure was to the Southwest of the Gatehouse and Tower. It was a well built cathedral, again of granite, and had the footprint of a cross with its east and west wings spanning beyond the main structure. It appeared to be shorter than the first two buildings, but had a higher roofline with a massive steeple on its north end. It was simply built, but beautifully so. Stained glass windows were mid-way up the exterior walls with some form of human silhouette etched within the colorful glass.

Northwest again of the Cathedral was a two floor mansion, again with very high rooflines but apparently only a couple of floors (the cathedral having three). The mansion was also a beautiful work of architecture with a blend of Outlands timber integrated with granite. The east and west side of the first floor appeared to be covered porches with beams of Outlands wood holding up a slanted roofline above.

South of this mansion was the last building which by its architecture couldn’t be identified. It hosted a mixture of architectural elements taken from the Tower and the Cathedral and also looked to be only two floors high. This building was the only other one in the Keep that had a flat roof (like the Gatehouse) and made of Outlands Timber, with the same granite buttresses.

The buildings shared a system of flat granite sidewalks amongst well-tailored trees, grass and shrubbery. Small statues were about the large courtyard adjacent to these walks but the detail as to whom or what they represented was lost due to scale. It was very apparent that it was a lovely summer day by the evidence of many flowers in bloom. No one was walking throughout the courtyard, nor were they any guards posted on the walls or anywhere visible

What made Temmit’s heart skip a beat was that the entire building was surrounded by Outland Trees, giant behemoths with trunks twenty to thirty feet in diameter. A few of them were almost nestled against the outermost wall. It was then that Temmit knew that this place could NOT be in Safe-Haven, for everyone knew that the forbidden forest was hundreds of feet back from the Flame Barrier.

“What is this place Father?” he again asked the room.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 05, 2009, 08:20:05 AM
Temmit started to wonder whether his father was, in fact drawing fantasy again. No one had been outside of Safe Haven in millenia, after all.

The first reaction is usually the correct one. He reminded himself.

He needed time to digest this thought. These thoughts. He placed the parchment with the outlands drawing on the first drawing in such a manner as to differentiate the two. He wanted them to remain in their order, but he also wanted to be able to easily find ones that were likely testaments as well as those that might as easily be fantasy.

This is kind of like piling 8.5 X 11 sheets of paper in different "directions". The potentially true drawings would be placed in portrait while those that might be fantasy would be placed in landscape.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 09, 2009, 09:52:36 AM
Dray? Other Dude?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 12, 2009, 12:31:02 PM
Okay, gotta check some notes when I get home today. I will post by this weekend. Thanks for your continued interest and patience.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on September 25, 2011, 06:45:20 PM
Have you checked those notes yet? :)
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on September 26, 2011, 12:13:30 AM
Yuppers! Stay tuned! At some point this week I will dust the notes off and repost. It's like riding a bike!
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Griznuq on September 29, 2011, 09:52:40 PM
"It's like Riding a Bike"... You mean it's something you're not likely to do anytime soon? ;D
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 04, 2011, 07:40:13 AM
If he had dozens of questions before his homecoming, he had hundreds now.

The next page was a beautiful rendering of his sister Nalla leaning against the well out back. While an incredible piece of art, it only served to pull at Temmit’s heart-strings. “Hi Nalla,” Temmit said aloud as he flipped over her smiling image, placed her down in portrait configuration, and moved on to the next one.

The next one was of a distant view of the Temple of Kaine. Once again, his father’s artistic hand worked wondrous magic, for it was an incredibly detailed piece of sketch-work. Judging by the angle of the building, the adjacent and outlying structures, Temmit believed the viewpoint of the artist was somewhere near or in the school district; high up on the rim of the valley looking to the center of Safehaven. All the buildings familiar to Temmit could be seen in the bowl-shaped city. It appeared that the image was a portrayal of some summer day since a nearby tree was full of leaves and a bird was flying by, perhaps a dove, in the foreground.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 04, 2011, 07:58:45 PM
There were so many lovely pictures in this little treasure trove, but some seemed to be screaming some not-quite-audible message to the youth.

He placed this image down and rose stiffly; he needed to move around. He also needed to get things prepared for the evening, as he noted that he had spent several hands in study of his father's belongings. It'd be night soon enough, and he didn't want to be without dinner or fire for the evening. He could get back to the pictures tonight, when there was nothing else to do anyway.

The reality was that it'd probably take the whole summer to decrypt these pictures anyway. Plus, he needed coffee.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 10, 2011, 05:52:30 PM
Moving about the cabin home, he again was pleasantly surprised to see that none of the family belongings had been stolen. After these many long years out here alone in the wilderness it didn’t make any sense, but he was happy with the fact regardless. He threw a pan of well water on the wood stove and in no time was drinking coffee, bags of freshly imported Nuthouse Blend now secure on the shelves. He smiled at Montey’s incredulous look when he said he needed three months’ worth of beans.

Gathering food took no time at all. A fresh patch of berries grew just east of his home. He dropped a line in a brook nearby and almost immediately caught a trout. Along with the last of the bread from Our Commons, he had quite the late afternoon meal. With food in his belly, Temmit had the energy to collect firewood and do some wood-splitting before the sun gave up the last of its rays.

He had the fire started and was completely cleaned up and ready to sit down to review the pictures awaiting near Dad’s chair when there was a polite knock on the door.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 10, 2011, 08:38:54 PM
Question that I seem to have missed asking: while out and about, Temmit was going to look for signs that anyone other than he might have been about the previous night; the stuff missing seems recently so, and he's thinking that someone put a blanket on hiim in the night. Any foot prints?

When the knock came, soft, slight, and jarringly unexpected, Temmit had just raised his cup to his lips; the knock caused him to jump fairly out of his skin and spill a mouthful of the brown gold down his front.

He was on his feet before he realized it. He grabbed his sword, which stood leaning against the chair in which he had been sitting, and drew the blade clumsily from its leather scabbard.

"Who's there?" He asked hoarsely.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 10, 2011, 09:04:25 PM
There was no telling if separate footprints were made by the person, thing, or Kahr’Thul (hehe) that may have laid that blanket on you. This was because you had spent a good deal of time making a fire in the common area fireplace prior to falling asleep and a new set made wasn’t traceable.

Prior to that fire-making, you did note that the floors were all very dusty. But you don’t recall seeing any footprints anywhere in the dust throughout the rooms as you initially searched.

“A Kahr’Thul,” a low baritone voice answered. “Thought I would knock first.”
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 11, 2011, 07:50:43 PM
Ok; what about outside the building?

Temmit didn't appreciate the joke, nor did he recognize the voice. He backed towards to kitchen window, determined to leap through ut if he had to.

"Who's there?" He repeated his question
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 11, 2011, 08:08:03 PM
There was a slight pause before the voice with the slow draw answered, “come on now, that I recken was at least ah-some-bit funny.”

When Temmit didn’t respond he continued. “The name is John Peters. Yours is Temmit and I was a friend of your fathers many years back before the tragedy.”

This character sounds like (and if you open the door will look like) Sam Elliot in his long hair days (look up on Google Images Sam Elliott: Golden Compass).
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 13, 2011, 06:39:17 PM
Is that a name that Temmit recognizes?

How about answering the question about prints outside?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 13, 2011, 06:50:08 PM
Do you have a form of tracking, nature, or survival (in 3.5 edition) that will allow you to discover prints in rough terrain (woods nearby)? Otherwise, there is nothing in the immediate area in front of the cabin. And negative, you do not recognize the name.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 14, 2011, 06:07:14 AM
After further review, I have changed my mind and want to revise all my answers about prints as follows. I apologize for the late revision:

Inside the house: On his initial search through the house, Temmit did see that there were footprints that went from the front entrance directly to his parents bedroom and to the trapdoor in the floor (and then back to the entrance). Whoever it was, they knew exactly what they wanted and exactly where it was. The footprints looked to be the size of a man's boot.

*Front entrance: After discovering the blanket on himself, Temmit noted a separate set of prints, not his own, that lead from the road to the threshold and then to spot he slept. The prints then returned to the road. The footprints looked to the smaller and perhaps a woman's boot.

*Woods surrounding house: Although there is no sign that the house has been approached or vandalized during its entire life without a family, you did find a path about 50 behind the cabin. This path appears to be a deer path, but you did find a man's bootprint in a patch of dried mud. The boot was pointed in the direction of the path.[/list][/color]
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 14, 2011, 08:02:34 AM
Thank you. In answer to your earlier question, in 3.5 you could use a SPOT check to see prints, but you would use a Survival (was Wilderness Lore) to FOLLOW tracks.

I'm going to assume that Temmit does not recognize the name given; if he did recognize it, we can revise.

"Enter." Temmit said to the voice. He held his sword at the ready none the less, and positioned himself so that quick exit could be made through the rear window.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 14, 2011, 05:48:24 PM
Sorry, I thought I answered you but it could have been lost in formatting. “No” you do not know of Rob Peters.

The door opened and a man with long gray hair and a bushy mustache poked his head in. He gave a smile, and then looked down on the ground while nodding and smiling to himself.

Temmit easily ascertained that this man was amused. He seemed pleased to find exactly what had been expected; a frightened teenage boy holding a sword in the middle of his parent’s old cabin.

“Good evening,” he said as he took two steps in while taking off his wide-brimmed ten-gallon hat. Hair spilled everywhere about his shoulders. “Again, the name is Peters, and you must be Temmit,” he offered. Temmit noted that his eyes didn’t look at Temmit’s sword, nor did the man in any way look anxious. Peters was as relaxed as a cucumber, and more importantly, didn’t looked armed.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 15, 2011, 12:47:13 AM
"I don't remember you." Temmit responded suspiciously. "What are you doing here? What do you want?" He asked, not even aware of how ungracious he was being.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 15, 2011, 08:26:24 AM
Peters chuckled a bit and raised a staying hand at the boy. “You’re in the right not trust’in me boy, priest law is only an idear out here near the border.”

Temmit didn’t reply, but simply held his sword.

“Right,” Peters said and reached his hand slowly into a pocket of his brown leather vest. He pulled out a piece of folded parchment and began to unfold it slowly. Temmit spied the POOSH stamp (Post Office Of Safe Haven) on one of the sides as it unfolded. Peters looked at whatever was written on it, then looked up at Temmit, then back at to the piece of paper. He had a curious look of awe on his face.

“Damn boy that’s just nuts,” he said to the parchment.

Without much ceremony, he flipped the parchment over and offered it to Temmit.
Temmit accepted the parchment cautiously, stepping forward only for a brief moment to take it. He didn’t drop his weapon for a moment.

When Temmit looked down upon the paper he was looking at the backside, he noted that it was much worn, as if the folded paper had been in the man’s pocket for a long time. It was also letter sized and the same type of paper his father had used for his drawings. The POOSH stamp was dated SummerFirst-Endday-2120 (07.20.2120), over twelve years ago.

He flipped it over to see what Peters had been looking at…and there, centered in the paper, sketched by his father’s distinctive hand, was a drawing of Temmit’s face…at age 15.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 16, 2011, 08:54:48 AM
 To whom was the paper addressed (through POOSH)? Does POOSH use a return address?

Can you remind me about "priest law"? Is that "trust people who are older than you, even when they tell you to drive a dagger through your own ear"?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 25, 2011, 05:34:53 PM
It was addressed to Rob Peters. Return addresses are used without question, POOSH won’t deliver without one. The return address is on the paper, it is:

Henry Fellow, Retired Boatmaker, Age 62
17 Chapel Road

…and no, in all of your travels, nor in ANY point yet in time (remember this thread takes place a year ago), do you recognize this name.

For future reference, Lakeshore (you may remember) is the beach-front town on the lake just northwest of Our-Commons.

In regards to “priest law”, that is just slang for “the unjust religious law of the land”. This tenant is felt more profoundly the farther away one gets from Our-Commons (which you may remember is at the heart of the kingdom of SafeHaven). Out here, about 40% of the population is disgruntled with Fresenius and his government. With that disenfranchised attitude, strangers are initially mistrusted until what side they’re on can be determined.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 26, 2011, 07:06:45 PM
"Who are you?" Temmit repeated, eyeing the old man suspiciously. "And where did you get this?" He waved the paper in the air and threw it in the general direction of his visitor.

It was clear that whoever he was, he knew an artist who somehow had known Temmit's father pretty well. What the boatmaker might have to do with anything, Temmit couldn't even guess.

He waited expectantly for an answer that would sound at least remotely logical and innocent.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 27, 2011, 08:24:28 AM
The man had a kind and patient face, it cracked a smile under the thick mustache. “Name’z still Peters,” he replied without malice and in the same slow draw.

“That draw’n of you came tah’me from the Post just ‘bout ten years ago,” he continued while picking the drawing up off the floor. “Judgin by your age now, I reckin your ‘bout fifteen. So ya’d mind tellin me how that’s possible? How someone ten years ago knew exactly how a small boy would look as a young man in his future?”
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 27, 2011, 11:32:33 AM
Temmit shook his head emphatically...perhaps a bit jittery. "It's not possible." He stated, remaining on his guard.

"It's also not reasonable that you should know that I'm here; why did you follow me from Save Haven?" He asked.

The man's genial nature was doing nothing to ease Temmit's mistrust; there was too much going on. Only a few people knew that Temmit was out here alone: Renee, Leslie, and his "superiors" in the school (those who Temmit was forced to tell).

This Peters fellow must obviously be a spy, therefore. Or a vagabond, or highwayman...what did he want from this place? Was this the fellow who had stolen Temmit's father's things?

Temmit stole a quick glance out through the kitchen's window, lest "Peters" have any accomplices that might ambush the youth from behind. Satisfied that no one was there, Temmit then reached out with his most gentle thoughts to read Peters' emotions...

Used his power "Empathy"
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 28, 2011, 01:20:04 PM
THIS "Return Home" thread occurs four months BEFORE Temmit is involved with the following threads;


Following along the timeline of these threads, you can see that four months from now (now being this thread), Temmit is Renee's second in command. I don't believe Temmit would have gone back to the city (at the completion of this thread), met the guild, and achieved this status before the end of the year. Therefore, Temmit has indeed already met Renee and has joined the Whisper guild. How many months or years ago prior to this thread is up to you.

By default of the guild's acceptance of only gifted children, Temmit would also (therefore) have some form of psionic talent. But yes, he does not yet have Smokey.

Agree? Thoughts?

Also note, I will respond to this post after I check a few items. Loving this thread![/color]
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 28, 2011, 08:42:23 PM
OK...I've lost sense of this game a bit; sorry. It is stupid of me to forget some pretty simple stuff after such a short absence. :)

I have in my mind that during the game thus far, Temmit is about to turn 18. Looking at the Character Development thread, I see that he's on the late edge of 15. Sorry. So I've been playing this thread as though he's got no abilities whatever, which, to your point, would be incorrect. He must have a rudimentary ability or two.

I'm going to have to review Temmit's character sheet to take a look at the abilities that he might have had at this point. Can I assume that he would have had all his powers, but not necessarily his feats. How's that sound?

Thanks for bringing this up. It's pre-whisper, but not pre-powers.

Updated my last post.

BTW, I'm very glad that this is consuming some of your gray matter again.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 29, 2011, 07:05:31 AM
Johan, it's been two years since Dray has been vested in this campaign, it isn't your fault you lost a bit of sense on how it's all played out. I myself have had to reread ALL the threads in order to get perspective on the timeline of all events.

Let me throw out some dates to give you perspective, if you want to alter anything in order revise the timeline to reflect your own ideas, please give me suggestions:

01.15.2117 - Temmit born

07.10.2120 - Temmit (age 3) is sent to the orphanage after his family is "killed by a falling tree when traveling in their wagon (the report of the truth was not made)".

09.05.2131 - Temmit (age 14) meets Renee of Whisper Guild.

10.10.2131 - Temmit (age 14) is recognized by Renee as having latent (magical/divine/psionic) ability, she has him interviewed. Temmit succeeds and joins Whisper Guild.

04.05.2132 - Temmit (age 15) is promoted to 2nd in command ("lieutenant") by Renee in the Whisper guild. They are the best of friends.

08.20.2132 - Temmit (age 15) "returns home".

12.21.2132 - Temmit (age 15) In a guild meeting (Meeting of the Minds), Emma is selected to take over
the guild since Renee will be turning 18 at WinterEnd.

The lines in the color "red" above are the ones that you have liberty to change since these dates haven't been established in any ICD threads. But as you can see, this timeline gives Temmit and Renee time to meet each other; time for Temmit to be recognized as gifted; time for Temmit to join in the guild and become Renee's best friend so he can be assigned as 2nd in command.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 29, 2011, 08:42:22 AM
I have no issue with the time line as I now understand it. I've updated my post...carry on, sir.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 30, 2011, 12:18:40 AM
Your gentle prodding of his mind received a wave of emotion you didn’t expect…it can only be described as affectionate adoration, as if your mind has stepped into the embrace of a father figure.

“Haven’t been to the Priest bowl fer over three years now boy, so no way I’ve followed yeah from there,” Peters began. He bent over and picked up the unfolded parchment that had landed at his feet.

“My wife spied yeah from our woodland home a few miles from here. While we can easily see travelers on the road, the opposite isn’t true. Our house bein positioned in such a way that it’s far enough and hidden enough to keep away from a wandering eyes.” He stopped and looked down upon the face on the parchment and gave it a half smile.

“Anyway, after yeah had passed the house, she came down here last night to greet yeah proper; a kind of welcoming of the new neighbor. But she found yeah asleep on the floor. Well, she knew yer image as much as I…having studied it these past ten years. So she placed a blanket on yeah and returned home, and when I came back from a hunt this morning, she happily reported yer appearance. So here I am.”

Peters drew another piece of paper from his pocket. He then stood for a moment and studied the boy. Upon making a decision, he unfolded this second parchment. As Peters did so, Temmit noted that it was exactly like the first, with the same creased edges, worn from years of residing in the man’s possession.

“Yeah see,” he said while looking down to this new piece of parchment, “Temmit, yeah have changed our whole lives.”

Peters held out the newly revealed parchment, offering it to him with a smile.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on October 31, 2011, 04:27:34 PM
Temmit relaxed a bit at his realization of Peters' surface emotions, but then tensed a again, but differently. Gone was the alarm and fear that posited the notion of danger. It was replaced, however, with an anxiety of who this fellow was that he should bear Temmit such tender regard.

As Temmit listened, his agile mind was able to establish a few links: if Peters and his wife were truly neighbors, then they might know Temmit from a time before which Temmit had any memories. But then, if this were true, then Peters should know that a joke about Kahr'Thul might put Temmit on edge.

How would Temmit have changed anyone's life? An orphan and a loner for as long as he could recall; he didn't have any aquaintences, let alone friends, who might say that he changed their lives. In all, his little existance in this little mote of a world of theirs was really very unremarkable.

It brought to mind for Temmit again his first...second, actully...his second question: what did Peters want?

Temmit lowered his sword, though not completely, and (keeping a mental as well as a physical eye on Peters), took the new paper from the man, scanning it quickly for signs of its origin.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on October 31, 2011, 05:36:49 PM
It was a letter, and in an instant Temmit determined it was most definitely NOT his father’s handwriting (nor did it try to disguise itself to be). Temmit flipped it over before reading it, examining it for some kind of POOSH stamp or other marking. It was blank on the back.

Temmit flipped it back over to the writing but couldn’t for the life of him start reading. Something in the back of Temmit’s mind told him to focus on the creases where the fold’s had permanently left their six criss-crossed indentations. He could almost hear his own voice criticizing him on his own ineptness to see the obvious. He continued to stare, determined to conquer this feeling. And then he spotted it. This parchment was folded in exactly the same manner as the picture. It was as if this letter had been folded inside the parchment of Temmit’s picture.

‘They came together in the POOSH,’ Temmit ascertained with relief, his mind quieted with the insecurity abated.

He read the letter…

Dear Mr. Peters,
We do not know each other. My name is Henry, and I am a retired craftsman in Lakeshore and an admittedly eccentric philanthropist.

I have a favor to ask of you, but before I voice it, let me briefly tell you why you were chosen. Mr. Peters, it was I who discovered you that night in ShantyTown. I was the one who brought you back to your wife and deposited you on the doorstep of your home. You said to me, “if only I could catch one break, I would change it all. I vow I would change it all.”

Well Mr. Peters? Here is your chance. I need you to deliver a message for me. And for that favor I will reward you handsomely, I will give you that chance to change it all. But for this chance I ask you to do something extraordinary; for this chance, I will need you to trust your fellow man.

For no ordinary message will it be, nor, will it take just a short time to deliver. You see Mr. Peters, it will take over a decade to make good on your end of this bargain. For I need you to deliver the picture enclosed in this letter to a young man ONLY when he returns home. Not before. It is imperative that you obey this key part of the request. And it is in this I ask you to trust your fellow man.

His name is Temmit, he will return home at the end of SummerSecond, twelve years hence.

If you agree to this contract Mr. Peters, then your first step is to report to Bank of Haven. I have an account setup in your name. The account contains fifty-thousand gold pieces, enough money for you and your wife to start anew in the South. Upon your arrival at the bank and acceptance of this account a chain reaction of pre-designed events will occur, all to make your transfer to the South a safe and pleasant one. You simply have to accept the account as testament to your acceptance of this contract.

Henry Fellow

Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 02, 2011, 08:15:32 AM
So in an earlier post, you stated the following:

Quote from: Dray

…and no, in all of your travels, nor in ANY point yet in time (remember this thread takes place a year ago), do you recognize this name.

This is interesting to me, as it suggests that as of the last actual PLAY date, Temmit would recognize the name (though at the time of this thread, he does not), but I don't recall it.

Can you elaborate so as to elucidate?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 02, 2011, 08:24:31 AM
OOPS, I see the confusion. I misspoke. I should have said that Rob Peters is first mentioned (introduced) by the GM in this thread. Temmit would of course carry this entire thread as memory going forward.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 02, 2011, 01:32:40 PM
Furthermore. I now have a vast library of notes after reading all of the ICD's Temmit was involved in (took about 4 hours). I will do my best at maintaining the consistency of the timeline; in other words, nothing I scrybe herein should create a conflict with all the threads that take place at later dates.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 02, 2011, 04:02:15 PM
Ok, so thus far, this is the first place that the PLAYER has encountered Peters. Thank you (if I'm correct...if not, then speak clearly, you imibicile :) )

Temmit read the letter twice, then (as was his usual wont when reading bizzare writings), read it again.

"I don't understand." He said at last. "It is not I who have changed your life...your lives; it was Henry Fellow, if this letter be true and what you tell me is no fantasy.

"Who is this Henry Fellow? What does he have to do with me?"
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 02, 2011, 05:49:29 PM
Rob Peters remained calm and collected, not paying any mind to the sword Temmit had lowered.

“Near in as I can tell. Mr. Fella was a retired boat-maker livin in Lakeshore twelve years back when the tale of your family’s tragedy was reported in the papers. I imagine he mustah read that, then felt hard on your sufferin as any man would. ‘(A)pparently he had the coin and decided to do something ‘bout it.”

Rob Peters spoke while rotating his hat in his hands, the rim spinning slowly.

“That being said, how the blazes the man came ‘bout this picture of you grown up is well beyond my understandin.”

Peters blinked at Temmit, hoping for an answer.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 02, 2011, 09:23:25 PM
Empathy, and on e chance that what is sensed is genial, at least...

Temmit relaxed noticeably and lowered his sword further. In the last year, plus or minus, he had been exposed to a lot of strange things; there were to his somewhat recent knowledge so many people with abilities and powers outside of what was considered "normal". This was really nothing more than another instance of the unknown rearing its illogical head.

To Robert Peters, he simply shook his head and said quietly, "I don't know. It seems like a strange, elaborate trick of some sort, along with how he might know when I'd be returning home, given that I myself did not know it."

"But even if such a story might be true," he continued, "why? How does this help either you or me?"

Of course the obvious answer that presented itself to Temmit was that his father had powers, even as Temmit himself had started to exhibit; Temmit's father must have had some ability to see some aspects of the future, as that drawing was clearly in Temmit's father's unique hand, but why? Had his father seen the tragedy before it happened? If he had, why would he have allowed it to happen? How many of his father's pictures might have been glimpses of a distant future?

And what to do about these things now? He turned his mind in Peters' words? "So out of a desire to do something about it....for me...he had you bring this picture to me?" He shook his head again. "I don't get it." He said.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 02, 2011, 10:04:13 PM
CONCERN is the emotion you get from your empathy check.

Peters looked visibly disappointed for the confusion it caused Temmit.

“For that I apologize on his behalf, for I’m sher Mr. Fella didn’t save a drunk at the tune of fifty thousand pieces of gold fer nuthin. Perhaps you are going to understand it layter?”

Rob then took something from his other vest pocket. It was a small leather folder, as Temmit took it he noticed the words Bank of Safe Haven stamped on its cover.

“That there is the leftovers of our good fortune. I had your name jointed to the account. It’s not much, just a couple hundred gold pieces left, but it’s the least my wife and I can do fer your bein involved in our own salvation.”

(f you flip open the front cover it is a savings account with over ten dozen withdrawal entries. The remaining balance is 638gp, 26sp, 98cp)
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 02, 2011, 10:19:12 PM
"I don't have answers." Temmit said. "And I get the notion that this Henry Fellow is dead by now."

He considered the bank book then. "But I can't accept this." He said. "It doesn't feel right; you held your part of the bizarre bargain. This money is yours." He held the bank book towards the old man. "The reality is that I wasn't involved in this at all. Perhaps Mr. Fellow was working on your behalf, and I'm nothing more than an excuse for him to help you? Perhaps he felt that he owed you something." He's certainly no one that I've ever heard of, and will likely never hear from him again, I'm thinking."
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 03, 2011, 08:15:57 AM
Rob Peters was nodding as Temmit spoke but also putting up a staying hand.

“He did indeed pass a few months aftah putting Jennifer and I on our path. But you take that there coin Mr. Janalinus and you do sum good with it. If yeah won’t be spendin it on yeahself, pass it on to anothah in need. I am sure you have more than a few friends at the orphanage who could use some help. Again, it’s the least my wife and I can do for’yeah being part of this bizarre plan.”

Rob Peters put his hat back on.

“Well, its late and I should be headin back. I left ah skinned rabbit hangin on your porch shouldjah be hankerin for a meal,” offered Peters. At Temmits opportunity to politely deny the offer Peters interrupted him. “And if yeah don’t mind me huntin on your family’s land I will be in this area for the next couple months. Game is good around here,” he finished.

With that he gave the young man a wink and turned to the door.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 03, 2011, 04:50:56 PM
"Mr. Peters?" Temmit called as the old man reached for the door latch. Robert turned half way back to Temmit, an eyebrow raised inquiringly. "Thanks." Temmit managed simply.

"I'm sorry for my reception of you; I wasn't expecting anybody. And I certainly have no issues with you hunting anywhere you like, really. I'm hoping to spend some time learning how to snare rabbits for myself out here this summer; I hope to see you again."

He couldn't think of anything else to say, really. Robert Peters seemed like a regular fellow, and Temmit could sense no decite from him. It would be wise to keep on a good terms with this man and his wife for the summer; as much as Temmit enjoyed being alone, solitude was a dangerous way of life way out here.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 03, 2011, 05:38:54 PM
“Ye’re welcome.” The man gave a better smile and a nod. “Enjoy yer time out here young man, and keep the sword handy just in case. Should yeah need anything at all just run ‘bout a mile up the road and hang out where the road jigs from east-to-west-to-east around a slow hill. My wife er I will spot yeah.”

With that he pulled the latch on the door and departed quietly.

(OOG DM Notes: Temmit still has the following things to consider:

How you want to proceed with all those items above is up to you. We can take them one post at a time, a few large posts, or a single large diatribe scribed by Johan after he resolves any questions with me via email.)[/color]
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 06, 2011, 07:30:38 AM
So here's my thinking:

1) Longer is not always better (at least, that's what I keep telling my wife). I don't want to drag this thread out to dozens of pages; I think that I'd rather close this at a "good" time (might not be right now...lemme think as I type), and open other threads as needed;

2) I'm thinking that as far as the pictures (sketches) are concerned, we've already opened that can of worms here, so let us delve through those in this thread, then close;

3) Let's talk about journals in the e-mail, and then I can try to understand some of what's in that dark, twisted mind of yours and I can summarize like I do so often;

4) That curious dull but clear crystal, I think, should warrant it's own short thread; I have no idea at this time how to handle that, but sometimes that's for the best;

5) Make sure that Renee brings lots of coffee and condoms...I'm planning a party.

That work for you?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 06, 2011, 08:06:30 AM
Night had settled, but this encounter with John Peters had agitated Temmit on a number of different levels.

He seemed a decent fellow, and it was believable that his wife was the one who put the blanket upon Temmit the previous night. Time would tell, he supposed.

Temmit picked up his coffee and began to pace the little room. What did these pictures mean? Why was it so important (50,000 gold important) to a stranger that it be delivered to Temmit? The first answer MUST be that Henry Fellow was no stranger to Temmit's father...this would be how the man had Temmit's father's sketch.

This wasn't the first piece of information that Temmit had in mind that suggested that his father had abilities...some kind of magical abilities. Temmit's were obviously a birthright of some sort. But could his father have actually been able to see the future? How would such a man be caught unawares by anything, if there were the case? Too many painful thoughts crept in along that line of thinking...

For a place that spent so many years abandoned, there was certainly a lot of activity here since Temmit's return: three other people seem to have been here since just last night (for Temmit felt that it was no John Peters that was under the trap door last night...there must have been another). Temmit had been thinking that he would be comletely alone out here; the place was fairly as busy as the Marks' tavern!

He paced about the little room all night, working out thoughts and scenarios one way, then the other, and then weighing thier relative merits against one another, then moving on to other lines of thought.

When the sun started to lighten the sky, Temmit was thoroughly exhausted. He found the coffee pot empty, and he had been gripping the little crystal that was among his father's belongings under the bed. He didn't remember retrieving it, but there it was; it had occupied much of his thoughts over the last half-hand as he tried to remember it from his childhood and wondered why it might have been secreted away with his father's valuables.

He put a few more logs on the dwindling fire and sat heavily in the large chair, as he had intended to do the previous evening.

Picking up the few sketches that remained in his father's treasury, Temmit inspected them as sleep took him in and out of conciousness, and hand here, a half a hand there.

I see him spending the better part of the morning in cat naps and checking out the sketches one at a time. Then close this thread, and start a new one...I'm going to script a dream sequence after the last sketch that will start the bonding practice with Smokey. Work?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 06, 2011, 03:33:21 PM
So here's my thinking:

...and my answers in a more masculine color...

1)Longer is not always better (at least, that's what I keep telling my wife). I don't want to drag this thread out to dozens of pages; I think that I'd rather close this at a "good" time (might not be right now...lemme think as I type), and open other threads as needed;

Quality is better than quantity.

2)I'm thinking that as far as the pictures (sketches) are concerned, we've already opened that can of worms here, so let us delve through those in this thread, then close;

Remainder of pictures forthcoming, it’s always a pleasure to confuse Temmit.

3)Let's talk about journals in the e-mail, and then I can try to understand some of what's in that dark, twisted mind of yours and I can summarize like I do so often;

Outline of journals forthcoming in an email, I will give you the highlights of the six books and allow your own twisted mind to process the information in any way you wish.

4)That curious dull but clear crystal, I think, should warrant it's own short thread; I have no idea at this time how to handle that, but sometimes that's for the best;

It took twenty pages detailing something that resembled child-birth for Kit to bond with her crystal….not that I am accusing you for slacking…Slacker.

5)Make sure that Renee brings lots of coffee and condoms...I'm planning a party.

Birth pills exist but condoms don’t….gee, GM must be a guy.

That work for you?

I live to entertain.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 06, 2011, 04:32:24 PM
Temmit was no exception to the training of the Scribes house, before looking at the remaining three images he briefly reviewed the others already studied in his mind.

Three out of five posed speculation, but although Temmit’s mind was tired, he somehow avoided the distraction of pondering these and withdrew the sixth picture from the satchel.

This next exquisitely detailed sketch by his father  (OOG: I have named him Noah) was the most confusing to date. It appeared to be a drawing depicting a battle in the Outlands, the combat nearing its end. The vantage point was from high above, looking down as if the artist were the Lord Kaine himself, watching the landscape below. The blanket of Outlands Pine was continuous everywhere with a major exception; a chasm on the land and through the wood. It began from the upper left-hand corner and ended at the lower right-hand corner of the drawing. At the end of this channel in the lower right appeared to be a structure of some sort. The building, with a length extending parallel with the chasm to the northwest, was in complete ruin. Fire and smoke billowing upward from it. Many black figures throughout the wood were advancing on what appeared to be what was left of a Safe-Haven military surrounding the structure.

This image, like that of the siege depicting Ulstag at the Warden Council Keep, made no sense to Temmit. His history teachers (OOG: instructor associated with the Clergy House) never spoke of a battle beyond the Outer Rim and in the actual woods of the Outlands.

Temmit squinted more carefully at the fine graphite lines upon the parchment. What at first appeared to be ruined siege engines in the scar to the northwest of the structure on more careful review actually appeared to be ruined parts of the structure itself. And related to that observation was the fact that there were hundreds of ruined trees laying within the chasm, all pointing to the structure. Some of the ancient pines were also knocked over at the edge of the gash, and others were on fire. It was if this wasn’t a chasm at all but…but some kind of gash created by the structure itself! As if the thing was flying and then crashed into the wood!

Buildings don’t fly! Temmit heard his mind tell him.

(OOG: If the last line violates artistic license and copyright issues (in other words, you don't want me to cross this line yet): please feel free to delete it from this post.)
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 06, 2011, 05:24:34 PM

The word reverberated to Temmit. It was interesting to him that so many of these drawings were created with a vantage point of being on high, looking down on the scenes. Almost as though the looker was able to fly.

Actually, more than 'almost as though' was definitely as though the looker was able to fly.

Temmit was starting to form an interesting set of notions about his father; he dwelled on it while he turned the little crystal in his long fingers.

Noah Jannalinus must have been gifted as Temmit was. Or rather, in much the fact that Temmit himself was, but with different talents. Even to the point of seeing the future and flying as well.

These battle scenes might as readily be something that might happen in the future. Of course, Temmit's father could also have been able to see the distant past as well. Or instead.

Communication without  speaking. What else? Why these drawings? Why the one of Temmit? What message was there to be sent? Was there hidden messages within the drawings?

Temmit drifted back to a shallow sleep while he considered these possibilities, waking a hand or so later to look at the next sketch.
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 06, 2011, 09:13:53 PM
The next sketch was simple.

It had no mystery.

But Temmit still stared at it for an hour.

For it was of his father Noah Janalisus.

(Last image forthcoming, you have 15 to 30 minutes to post).
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 06, 2011, 09:29:10 PM
it might have been that Temmit was just tired or emotionally spent, and it also might have been that he was at last coming to some grips with being alone in the world.

When he realized how late it was, he put the image aside and went to dress the rabbit that John Peters had left for him the previous night.

When once the coney was spitted and cooking on the fire, and Temmit had brewed a new pot of coffee, he settled down to his father's journals. In the back of his mind, he thought that one day, he would have to frame all of these lovely images and put them on a wall. Hopefully, Temmit would have a decent home one day.

This night, it seemed, would be made for starting to read; he also made a mental note to look for encoding strategies and decoding techniques when he returned to school. These crazy symbols must mean something, afterall. Perhaps a secret guild code?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Johan on November 15, 2011, 01:05:48 PM
So based upon what I see in the journals (thanks for sharing separately), I'm not seeing any real Q&A being provoked (haven't really had the opportunity to take the time to re-read all of Temmit's threads).

Shall we close this thread and move onto whatever next great adventure the summer has in store for our young sleuth?
Title: 08.30.2132 - The Return Home
Post by: Dray on November 15, 2011, 06:08:49 PM
Yes, let us end this here. I will talk to you offline to discuss what's next.