War of the Planes

I'll release. Then stab again with the dagger aiming for the mid section.

Charon Satyr, Bard(1)(LA 2) Fey (5)
Size: Medium Age: 39
Hp:26
AC:17

Initiative: +3
Speed: (land)-40 ft.

STR:14(2)
DEX:16(3)
CON:15(2)
WIS:17(3)
INT:17(3)
CHA:18(4)

FORT:+3
WILL:+9
REF:+9

Base attack bonus:+2
Grapple:+4

Feats: Negotiator, Run
Racial feats: Alertness,

Skills: Balance 6, Climb 6, Concentration 4, Diplomacy 6, Disguise 4, Escape artist 4, Gather information 4, Handle animal 5, Jump 4, Knowledge (Arcana) 4, Knowledge (Architecture and engineering) 4, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) 4, Knowledge (Geography) 4, Knowledge (Local) 4, Knowledge (Nature) 4, Knowledge (Nobility/Royalty) 4, Knowledge (History) 4, Knowledge (Religion) 4, Knowledge (The planes) 4, Profession (Courier) 6, Ride 2, Search 2, Sense motive 4, Survival 6, Swim 4, Tumble 4,
Racial skills: Hide 4, Listen 4, Move silently 4, Perform 6, Spot 4,

Other racial traits:low-light vision, damage reduction 5/cold iron, +4 natural AC (included),

Languages: Sylvan, common

Weapons: Rapier 1d6 crit:18-20, Gauntlet 1d3, Short bow 1d6,
(natural) headbutt, 1d6

Spells: (lvl 0) 2 per day- Know direction, Mending, Lullaby, dancing lights

Special: Bardic music, Bardic knowledge, Countersong, Fascinate, Inspire courage,

Items:
Pan pipe (lost)
Arrows (20)
Backpack
Fishing net
Flask
Flint & Steel
Paper (4 sheets)
Parchment (2 sheets)
Iron pot
Salt (1 lb.)
Sealing wax
Signet ring (Personal)
Signet ring (Public commission)
Spade
Spell components pouch
Travelers outfit


Character background: A courier by profession, Charon is regionally well known for his services. Having left his original wilds for a life of partying in the more populated cities, he played his pan-pipes and sang to himself while putting his legs to work on the roads and mountain treks. However he has lost these beloved pipes given as the last thing from his family. Nothing is wrong with them, he simply ate their other gifts. Searching high and low on all paths and stops, he simply can't find them, and refuses to sing or play instruments until he does. He has made a lot of time to search all over, but can't avoid his paycheck work forever, and his manager won't stop bothering him with commissions, telling him he might get fired. It won't happen of course. The day he is fired, is the day everyone requests the wizards to start a postal service.

His reputation and experience often gets him commissions from aristocrats as often as common folk for letters, packages, and parties. This let's him stay "in the loop" of worldly events without making much effort.

Donnagin remarks, "Where are we going? Do we still have further duties?" This space seems too open for the route to have been given much consideration. What direction had they come from the "den" where the they collected?

Getting in from the door seems a fruitless effort for now. Ghar will head into the jester room closing the door behind him, and look for a window. If there is one, he'll check for onlookers before exiting through it.

Kragar
Sending off rays of fire, vaporizing the rain around it, one finds it's target. Holding up it's hands against the light offered little protection, and as it's skin boils, it's wounds cauterize and stop its healing.

Etali
Lunges for it's neck, you struggle to get significant leverage with you jaw. You are able to to keep a hold on it, but as it thrashes around you can tell it won't stay without repositioning.

Phineas
A dozen of Ironclamps men are surrounding the docks, and You can see Flynn following in suit of his subordinate in discussion.

Scrags
On deck, the larger scrag runs into the cabin, not giving a second thought to either of it's attackers
On the docks, the scrag wrestles as it stumbles to get the half dragon off it's neck, but is distracted by the approaching guards and fails completely.

First mate
though she keeps her saber unsheathed, she does not follow the scrag, instead watching events on the dock and keeping an eye on the cabin entrance.

I use my bite attack on the smaller scrag's throat. And would like to attempt to keep my teeth clamped on.

I cast Scorching Ray at the large Scrag.

Kragar
Distracted by the first mate, the scrag can barely react to something made out of thin air. The missiles slam into it hard nearly knocking it over.

Etali
In one motion, You slash high at the scrags throat. It cuts deep, but heals quickly. Though it still bleeds, It's vitals at least, are in tact.

Phineas
You can see Srg. Ironclamp has completed evacuation, and with backup, is moving to take action in the fight, but still remains some distance away. Some members of the Dread-Yatch's crew have returned, and have moved nearly all their goods, but only report to Flynn that they've completed today's job before turning back to town.

Scrags
On deck, The larger scrag swings wide at the first mate, and to it's surprise she dodges, but it's second arm lands hard.
On the docks, The scrag takes a 5-foot step back before again swinging with both it's hands, the first backhand missing entirely, but it's second try hits the mark. (dealing 10 points of damage)

First mate
Despite the damage, she is not downed. Attacking the previously severed arm, she does cut open the wrist, but is unable to sever it.

Flynn
He takes no further action as he watches Ironclamp and his men approach from the street.

Lörennia on the Elven Pantheon

Aerdrie Faenya: I know she's largely concerned with the few remaining avariel and aarakocra, so I'm not offended that she doesn't seem to have helped me much.  Though I'm pretty sure she sent that rainstorm across the desert when I needed it most.

Alathrien Druanna: I would never have heard of her if I hadn't befriended that old priestess for three days.  I know she serves as a target for others who want to attack the Seldarine, but not much more than that.  I don't really know enough to ask her for help.

Alobal Lorfiril: The elven god of hedonism is not aomeone I ever felt comfortable calling on.

Angharradh: (Ed. Note: irrelevant and off-topic discussion removed for clarity.  We tried getting Lörennia to talk about her several times, but she kept deflecting the question.)

Araleth Letheranil: I think I felt him standing with me at least once.  And considering that worked out so much better than I expected, he must have helped.  I always look for his star at twilight.

Corellon Larethian: (Ed. Note: Oddly, Lörennia spoke of him in glowing terms, but always of his history and never of her own experience.  We tried asking her directly but she flipped the table over and stormed out.  She didn't respond to us for several days afterwards but then came back like nothing happened.  She said she had "told us everything we needed to know".  We respectfully disagree, but did not push the issue.)

Darahl Firecloak: Can't say I've heard of him?

Deep Sashelas: You know where is the worst possible place for a sea elf to be?  Enslaved in the desert.  Mileame was not just miserable but slowly dying.  I hope Deep Sashelas doesn't mind that I gave her a quick mercy death.

Elebrin Liothiel: There's nothing wrong with him, but I also know he couldn't have helped me before.  Maybe now though?

Erevan Ilesere: I don't think he takes things seriously enough, but he has helped me at least a few times.  I can't complain.

Fenmarel Mestarine: This might shock you, but I quite like him.  It's nice to have someone who's pretty explicitly on my side in a hostile environment.

Hanali Celanil: I stay away from her.  She has better things to do with her time.

Khalreshaar: Pretty sure she's dead at the hands of a human?

Kirith Sotheril: Honestly, I always figured she wasn't real; she sounded a bit too much like Sharess.  You're telling me she's real?

Labelas Enoreth: I always thought he was unapproachable so didn't bother him.

Melira Taralen: I always wanted to get better at singing to please her, but never really had the time.

Mythrien Sarath: Where are you pulling some of these names from?

Naralis Analor: Okay no, him I've definitely heard of.  I honestly thought he was an avatar of Ilmater though, so I'll have to figure out what I owe him.

Rellavar Danuvien: No idea who he is.

Rillifane Rallathil: I always saw him as more something to strive for than something to help me.

Sarula Iliene: Why does that name sound familiar?  I can't place it...

Sehanine Moonbow: She's one of my favorites.  I do wish she'd be a bit more...proactive...in helping us elves, but she's got our backs and that means a lot.

Shevarash: Oh, him I understand completely...but the drow aren't likely to be the worst enemy of the elves for much longer if the humans keep breeding like rabbits.  Which is not to say he's wrong to focus on one enemy to the exclusion of all others, of course.

Solonor Thelandira: An elf's elf if ever there was one.

Tarsellis Meunniduin: [Ed. Note: long pause] ...Who?

Tethrin Veraldé: The bladesinger guy, I think?  Not my type.

Vandria Gilmadrith: Invoking her seems to help, even if I'm not entirely sure if she exists.

Zandilar: Last I heard, she's dead?  I think?

I take a long moment to carefully place the folded pages back into the book from whence they fell, letting the maelstrom of emotions sort itself out slightly before speaking - a twinge of jealousy, a bit of shame, but far more satisfaction and secondhand happiness.  "I never doubted it for a moment," I tell Edmund, completely seriously.  "I told you Mireya has the luck of the gods.  Although," my smile becomes far more lopsided, "it seems I fell in love a bit sooner."  I sigh.  "The ending was...much, much worse though."  My smile returns.  "Still, at least I can tell that she was wrong about one thing - she will know happiness again.  Maybe she already has.  Having loved and lost doesn't mean you can't be happy again, unless you make it so.  It certainly...does seem like it at first, though."  I fully expect that I'm not telling him anything he doesn't already know; I'm reasonably certain his wife Celia is dead of old age (if nothing else) by now - but I'm apparently too polite to ask.

"So," I straighten up after another moment, "you almost certainly guessed already, but my friends from some 350 years ago were also escaped slaves.  I...stayed behind to cover their escape."  I'm brushing up against some really bad memories here, so I take a steadying breath and let it out.  "All I really know is that they weren't recaptured immediately by anyone who knew who they were; the guards hated me enough that they would have paraded them or their corpses past my cell, just to break my spirit."  Another breath, in, and out.  Done with the hard part for now.  "We made plans to come through here, but we all knew the real path would be 'away', as far and as fast as we could manage.  If they were worried enough about going through any settlements, or got lucky enough to find a portal somewhere, there might be no trace of them at all, which is why I'm looking but not searching, if you know what I mean."

"But, before we get back to it," I add, pointing back at the cover of his book-

Quote from: LorenniaNailo on Apr 10, 2025, 02:27 PMInstead of answering him directly, I lick my thumb and rub at the unrecognizable-to-anyone-else smudge following his mother, rubbing off a layer of unobtrusive paint and revealing the wingless dragon (yellow-orange in reality, but of course not in black and white) following us both.

-"Any idea what happened to this little guy?  I rather hope Jarlonethrian didn't abandon your mother the way he was threatening to," my voice stern but directed at the dragon (former) whelp, wherever he might be, "especially after he was such a miserable little git while we crossed the desert."  I relented a bit.  "Understandable, in retrospect, given his wing stubs weren't fully healed and the sand kept getting into everything, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't have left him behind if your mother didn't stop me."