*------------------------------------------------------------------------------*
* Date: 1st of Readying, 585 C.D. IV *
* Time: Dusk *
* Loc.: Myst Dragon Inn, Magepoint, on the southern shore of the Nyr Dyv *
* Roughly three days ride east of the City of Greyhawk *
* Wx: A fairly nice brisk late winter's day, if you like a nip in the air *
* Chilly [41 degrees F]; Partly Cloudy; Light to moderate winds with *
* gusts from the north-northeast [7-12 mph gusting to 17 mph] *
*------------------------------------------------------------------------------*
I. Myst Dragon Inn
By land, sea and even air, not to mention other less conventional
modes of travel, the recipients of the cryptic missive arrived in Magepoint
near or upon the appointed date. The small hamlet was similar in
appearance to the many small communities that dotted the countryside of
the Flanaess. However, unlike its cousins, the main street was cobbled
and more than a fair share of the buildings were made of stone. Further
distinguishing this small hamlet was the pair of blockhouses that guarded
the promontory which jutted out into the Nyr Dyv ending at a pale blue
keep. Or was that just a reflection off the surrounding bright azure waters
of the Nyr Dyv?
Anyone with any sense about them could reason that the hamlet's
location had been selected due to the novel rock and promontory formation
that had been claimed by one who valued their solitude. A crossroads of
sorts had grown along with the hamlet. To the west along the path that
followed the shoreline of the Nyr Dyv was Elmshire. To the south, the
main street ended at a trail which wound its way through the Cairn hills
joining the Urnst trail which connected the City of Greyhawk to the Duchy
of Urnst.
Magepoint
---------
__
/1 \
^^^^^^ \__/ ^^^^^^
|| ^^^^^^
Nyr ^^^^^^ || Nyr
Dyv || ^^^^^^ Dyv
^^^^^^ ||
^^^^^^ || ^^^^^^
^^^^^^ || ^^^^^^
^^^^^^ || ^^^^^^
===============================||===============================
____________12____13__________2--2______________________________
------------------------------- -------------------------------
<--Elmshire 14 15 7 \ \ 17
\ \ 3
8 \ \
\ \ 4
/\ 9 \ \ /\
/\ \ \ 5 /\
/\/\ 10 \ \ /\/\
Cairn /\ \ \ 6 /\ Cairn
hills /\/\ 16 11 \ \ /\/\ hills
/\/\ \ \ /\/\
legend
^^^^^^ water 1 - pale blue keep
====== shoreline 2 - gatehouses
|| promontory 3 - myst dragon inn
/\ hills 4 - sign w/anvil & hammer
5 - leather hide tacked to wall
6 - stone columns flank entrance
7 - sign w/sword & cheese
8 - sign w/three gold circles
9 - sign w/saw & hammer
10 - sign w/wool & loom
11 - wheel as sign
12 - ship's mast
13 - sail canvas tacked to wall
14 - barrel as sign
15 - walled manor home
16 - sign w/cart & horse
17 - the blue gill
[DM's Note: Only salient locations are noted.]
Descending from the depths of the Cairn hills and entering the
rolling vale in which the hamlet has prospered, one left the predominent
plots of cultivated soil and roaming livestock to enter the main street lined
with all manner of shops. Approaching the Nyr Dyv, Magepoint took on the
appearance of a fishing village with drying nets lining the shore to the east
of the main street and docks to the west. It was not difficult finding the
Myst Dragon Inn considering the dragon which graced its sign and the very
stature of the buildings themselves. Many would covet a set of structures as
these for their very own. Three stories in height, it was a massive stone
structure.
Myst Dragon Inn
---------------
________ _________________________
| | | |
| | | |
| S | | Myst |
| t | | Dragon |
| a | |__#_________ |
| b # | Flag # Inn |
| l # |_____ | |
| e | / \Stone| |
| s | / Tower \ | |
| | \ /____# |
|________| \______/ |___________|
cobbled street
Great Room Interior
-------------------
___________________________________________________
| %%%% | A+A %%%%%|
| | Balcony %%%|
|S 1+++++++++++++++1 |------------------ %|
|t Common 6+6 8+8 | |
|a 2+++++++++++++++2 | B |
|g Room Open 7+7 | a B|
|e 3+++++++++++++++3 | l +|
| | to 9+9 | c B|
| 4+++4 5+++5 | | o |
|____#__________________/ 0+0 above / n |
\ / y |
## ____________ / |
\/ Bar | @@@|
| | ___ @@@|
|___________ #_______|
# - door
% - hearth/fireplace
@ - circular staircase
+ - tables
The impression of grandeur begins with the flag stone as one
stepped beneath the wide flying buttress which connected the main inn to
the tower at the second level, and culminated in the pair of graven oaken
doors which served as the main entrance. Opening the door on the right,
you are met with truly a grand room. Immediatly opposite the entrance, in
the far corner, was a hearth and fire which easily spanned several yards.
Yet your eyes are drawn upward, for the main portion of the room is open
to the level above ringed with a balcony on two walls. Lining the walls on
the second level are bookshelves and various mementos. Hanging from
the raftered ceiling far above is an ornate chandelier. The chairs that
adorn this grand room and the balconies above are placed in singles, twos
and threes about small tables.
The common room is much more akin to the typical inn. The
ceiling above feels low and almost claustrophic compared to the entrance
room, yet is clearly of normal height. The room is filled with tables and
benches with a slightly raised stage at the far end.
Upon your arrival within the inn, you are greeted by a burely
looking man who introduces himself as the owner and ostler. Snapping his
fingers and calling for, "Caig!!" A boy of about nine or ten comes rushing
from the depths behind the bar. Eagerly, the young lad begins relieving
you of whatever baggage you allow him to take, which he then promptly
stacks near the the circular wrought iron staircase. Amidst this hubbub of
activity, you find yourself faced with one of the few patrons of the Myst
Dragon, a tall, lean olven female. Though quite becoming to the eye, there
is a savage look about her that is difficult to place. Introducing herself as
Cymria of Celadon, she informs you that the evening is yours to do with
as you wish and that you are expected at the keep come mid-day on the
morrow. Excusing herself, she returns to her seat to await for the others
arrival as you are escorted not one floor above, but two, to your room.
==========
It's yet early in the eve and for the size of the inn, one must
surmise its normal patronage has yet to arrive though it certainly isn't
empty with almost thirty individuals spread out between the two rooms.
There are several new arrivals interspersed within the local residents.
Cymria sits before the fireplace reading a dog eared book of her
own, occasionally interrupting herself to scan the room and glance with
disdain at the double doors. The ostler is busy behind the bar preparing
for the evening whilst three women bustle throughout the common and
grand room. A solitary figure sits up on the balcony surveying the scene
below him and certainly appears a little daft. For at times it seems as if
he's talking to an empty chair across from him. To complete this charade,
he continues to order two drinks for his table even though he sits alone.
Directly below him, a solitary female sits slightly uncomfortable amidst all
this finery.
A comely woman, a tallfellow and two human males are seated in
the common room nearest the entryway whilst a grouping of eight men
have taken seats nearest the hearth. A smattering of local residents have
taken seats nearer the stage. Amidst the shadows in the rear corner of
the room, two obviously drunk individuals bemoan their fate together
making little sense, but at times causing a slight ruckus when their ale
appears slower than they'd like.
When the door to the inn opens a cold draft blows in from the
winter's night outside bringing with it two haggard and blood encrusted
human males. Leaning upon each other for support, the two stagger to the
bar calling for mead and meat.
Interrupted by the cold blast of air, Cymria turns to take in the
commotion at the front door as a drunk bellows, "Clus' sat bl'st'd dor!!"
Recognizing the night's intruders, she breathes forth, "This does not bode
well."
Locations:
----------
Cymria (NPC) - 8
Llaur (NPC) - bar (ostler)
Agath - 1 (mid-point)
Gerric - 1 (mid-point)
Galen (NPC) - 1 (mid-point)
Rauf (NPC) - 1 (mid-point)
Reynard - A (under balcony)
Franz w/Vigil - 2 (east end)
Forngull - 2 (east end)
Rowena - 2 (east end)
Jayar - 2 (east end)
Kynuk - unknown
Warnes - A (balcony - solitary figure)
Kallum - A (balcony - invisible)
Rakehell - bar
Mickel - bar
The comely woman and her tallfellow companion converse quietly
together as their table companions bend an interested ear to the
conversation. During the conversation, the comely woman unabashedly
points in the direction of the solitary figure upon the balcony.
Taking in the scene, Rowena sits comfortably in her chair. "Well
Jayar, it seems we have made it on time and have some time to rest from
our journey. And a much needed rest at that." Relaxing a bit, Rowena
shifts her vision to the other patrons in the inn. Finishing with her eyes up
on the balcony looking at the man sitting alone, and yet not alone. "Jayar,
what do you think of that man over there?" pointing at the balcony.
"The man has either given leave of his senses or he is talking to a
friend that is hidden from sight. I have heard of those that can make
themselves invisible." Jayar takes a long puff on his pipe, rubs his chin
and adds, "Perhaps he wishes us to think he has a invisible friend. A ruse
to inflate our opinion of his strength." Jayar takes another puff "My Lady,
any idea why you where summoned?" Jayar looks about. "A impressive
crowd, No?"
"An impressive crowd indeed. Jayar," Rowena takes a sip fom her
glass, "on our way into Magepoint, did you notice a few guardsmen? They
wore the symbol of Rao. Yet I saw no temple or other place of worship."
Interrupted by the arrival of the two bloodied men, the comely
women shifts from the cold in her seat whilst her tallfellow companion
leans back slightly, smiles and inhales on his long stemmed pipe.
Seeing the men enter the inn, Rowena puts her glass down, and
shifts in her seat from the cold. "I wonder when Knyuk will be arriving, if he
isn't here already." Rowena, resituating to the warmth of the fireplaces,
sips the wine from her glass, while keeping an eye on the men who just
entered the inn.
Jayar settles back and closes his eyes, carefully listening to the
sounds around him. He smiles and inhales on his pipe.
The scene at the bar is less serene. The ostler at the bar, Llaur, is
fuming. "If'n its mead 'n food you want then close that blasted door.
Caig!!" Llaur eyes the two with look of disgust as his nose wrinkles from
the smell they exude. As Llaur bends to the task of washing used mugs,
"Ya could use a bath before ya eat."
From around the corner, one of the drunks has risen and peers into
the grand room, "Cl'se sat d'mn dor!!" Looking about the room he spies a
waif of bar maid. "Wench, more ale," he cries as he flings about his flagon
emphasizing his need while sending the remnants of the flagon's contents
to the floor around him.
Cymria, steeling herself to the task at hand, approaches the
bloodied newcomers and presents herself to them. In hushed tones, of
which only possibly Llaur and the drunk might overhear, she conveys her
message. "My Master requests your presence at his keep come mid-day
on the morrow. The evening is yours to do with as you wish though I'd
suggest you clean yourselves. He would not be pleased with your
appearance. Your trials are all to apparent, is there a message you wish
me to convey to him prior to your arrival?"
Vigil extends its awareness as far as it can through the room,
searching for anyone seeking to do his bearer harm. It also notes any
magicks present, for such is seldom unimportant.
Concentrating for a moment, Vigil's consciousness enters a
shapeless gray void. Searching diligently, he doesn't find any disturbance
which would signal the presence of anyone bearing ill-will or hostility
towards Franz. Shifting his focus to that of the arcane magical forces, the
void is instantly transformed into a symphony of clashing colors. The
motes swirl about within the void some dim and faint while others are
almost blinding to look upon. Several of these motes Vigil has come to
associate with items that Franz and Forngull carry with them.
Vigil throbs and pulsates for several moments within his scabbard.
Franz's left hand leaves the flagon of mead he had before him and
comes to rest near his waist below the surface of the table.
Franz reaches for Vigil's hilt, speaking softly under his breath.
"What do you sense, friend . . . Enemies or Magic?"
As Franz touches Vigil's hilt, the sword responds with a wave of
cool reassurance and an image of the room through the weapon's magickal
senses. Nothing untoward here. No enemies, and no magic but what Franz and
the others brought with them.
Warnes says to Kallum, quietly, "Why don't you go down there and
listen to those two a bit. Maybe find out what they are about."
Across the table from Warnes, Kallum intones several words of
power, followed by some mischievous laughter as the flagon before Kallum
disappears from sight and then almost immediately a white linen napkin
appears several feet over Kallum's chair. The napkin falls to the floor.
Haggard, bloodied and appearing half-starved, Mickel eyes the
olven female with a suspicious look. In a lowered voice, he says to Master
Chert, "We were chased half-way across the Flanaess for this!"
Turning his back to the olve, Mickel addresses the ostler, "When I
want your advice I'll ask for it . . . now give me a flagon of mead an' tell
that drunk to shut up."
Agath surveyed the crowd before him. "Many important and
powerful men and women here today Gerric," he nodded in a low voice to
his second. "Something big."
"I better greet Reynard over there. We haven't met for ages. You
can stay here." Agath walked over to where Reynard was, "Greetings. I
trust you have been well," he spoke politely.
"I have," Reynard replies, making only momentary eye contact before
lapsing back into silence. Her tone is a little too curt to be considered
polite, but at the same time carries little, if any, indication of intentional
malice. In short, she seems to be exactly as Agath remembers her.
Watching the Damon disappear around the corner into the grand
room, Rauf smirks slightly then returns his attention to his fellows,
"Important folk my arse. Wher've they been these last months . . . not
fightin the euroz like we have . . . eh lads?"
A quick easy banter begins amongst the six men, a conversation
reserved to those who have faced the trials of battle and survived as
fellows. Tales of daring intermixed with those more mundane and some
even somewhat comical run their course as the conversation turns to the
subject of home.
"Why'd we get dragged up here anyway? This weather ain't fit for
man nor beast . . . too darn cold for the likes of me," interjects Galen.
"Now that city we passed through just west of 'ere . . . might've been nice
to lay over there awhile . . . not the same as Jurnre mind you . . . but
would've done for the time being." Looking up towards the man standing
besides the table, Galen questions, "Ranger Gerric, you know what the
plans of the Damon are?"
Gerric pauses for several seconds no little expression, before
responding in an even, non-commital tone. "I know of many of his plans."
Another pause, "There are also many of his plans I do not know. I do not
believe I can speak for him on this at this time." Gerric offers a slight,
sincere smile, "May I inquire of yours?"
Forngull walks up to the bar sits down and in his usual mercenary
ways orders the strongest drink. He looks over to Mickel and says, "Well
met. Did the woman order you here as well?"
Llaur eyes the two newcomers, Mickel and Forngull, across the
bar. Relenting to their requests for drink, the ostler grabs a newly washed
flagon, turns his back to his patron and fills the flagon with mead from a
tapped barrell on the wall. Returning to the bar, Llaur slides the flagon to
Mickel, "That'll be a Lucky."
Turning his attention to Forngull, Llaur responds, "The strongest
eh?" Smiling to himself, he uncorks a bottle he pulled from beneath the
bar and pours the green liquid into a small glass tumbler, "This'll cost ya
two Nobles an' probably yer head in the morning."
After serving the two, Llaur leans on the bar with arms that easily
could wield a blacksmith's hammer, "Mind yerselves now. I won't brook no
trouble in my place."
Forngull grabs his drink, slurps it down and replies, "I don't cause
trouble I get rid of it." With that he gets up, tosses the ostler several
coins, and walks through the grand room returning to sit with his traveling
companion.
Galen squirms slightly in his seat appearing somewhat
uncomfortable now that the priest's attention is directed towards him.
Even after all these years of service to the Damon, he never could quite
figure out what they wanted from him. Their questions always seemed to
imply more than what was said. Looking to his fellows for support, Galen
responds, "I will serve where the Damon commands."
After a slight pause, Galen asks, "Ranger Gerric, are you
questioning my loyalty?"
Gerric smiles more broadly and averts his eyes for a moment.
Then, returning his gaze to Galen answers, "No, no, I'm sorry. I have not
made myself understood. Your service speaks for your loyalty. However,
it was my understanding that the Damon intended to give you a few . . .
options concerning your service during this excursion. Is this not the case?"
Gerric accents the question with a raised eyebrow.
"The Damon mentioned once he had considered leaving us in that
city we passed through," shrugs Galen and then with a tint of vehemence.
"Now if I'd had my say we woulda struck out for Jurnre instead of crossing
those damn mountains and cooling our heels waiting on those blasted
olves."
Lowering his head somewhat, Galen continues, "Sorry, not my
place to question the Damon. Just don't understand what's so important
up here." Lifting his tankard, another expletive escapes under his breath,
"Damn euroz . . . we should be teaching them a thing or two."
Several of the other men at the table nod in agreement to this last
statement while slightly cocking their tankards in salute to Galen's
sentiments.
Gerric contemplates the men for a moment. "Well, Galen, he who
never questions never finds answers. You must understand how difficult it
was for the Damon to leave his work in our desperate situation. I must ask
you to trust that this is not a fruitless endeavor or meaningless journey. I
trust things will become clearer with time."
Gerric pauses, then adds with a faint smile, "Besides, there will be
plenty of lessons still to teach to the many euroz in need of learning upon
our return."
The remainder of the evening within the Myst Dragon Inn proceeds
without any notable incident. After a few words with Master Chert, Cymria
bids Llaur good evening and departs into the night. Llaur and the three
women turn to the task of catering to the needs of their patrons, bustling
about amidst the tables serving both drink and hot steaming food. The
evening is only interrupted as arriving townsfolk are greeted with hearty
hails from their fellows. Throughout the evening the patronage within the
Myst Dragon Inn swells to around fifty spread between the common and
grand rooms.
After receiving their fill of both food and drink, Master Chert and
Mickel both disappear to the nether regions beyond the bar. To their
surprise, they find the Myst Dragon Inn is equipped with a rather
sumptuous bath house attached to the kitchen area. Caig assists the two
gentlemen in preparing to bathe whilst lugging buckets of steaming hot
water from the stove into the bath area. Once the two are settled, Caig
under orders from Llaur bundles up and exits the inn.
Behind the Bar
--------------
## ____________ / |
\/ Bar | @@@|
| | ___ @@@|
|___________ #_______|
| # |
| # Bath |
| Kitchen | |
# | House |
| | |
|____________|__________|
Not the least put off by Reynard's civil yet removed demeanor,
Agath asks her if she would care to accompany him on the short walk to
the keep. Reynard declines, civilly enough, replying she would rather
make her way alone. As Agath turns to depart, Reynard stands
interrupting him and asks for directions to the keep. Raising an eyebrow
at the question, Agath informs Reynard that the keep is beyond the gate
houses at the end of the main street and that at most it is only a ten
minute walk from the inn.
Reynard issues a flat thank you to Agath's directions. Turning her
attention to accommodations for the evening, the druidess approaches
Llaur and engages him in a short conversation which ends with her
removing a curved sword from her side and giving it to the ostler.
Satisfied with the arrangements made Reynard casts one last glance
about the grand room and then leaves for the evening.
Agath returns to the common room finding Gerric, Galen, Rauf and
the others discussing their journeys. Pulling Gerric aside, the two men of
the cloth bend their heads together making plans for the morrow. Once
those matters are addressed satisfactorily, Gerric inquires about the
Damon's plans concerning Galen, Rauf and the others.
Returning from his excursion, Caig once again is put to work by
Llaur. Llaur turns his attention to the man Caig had retrieved for him and
escorts him back to the bath area. Bundled against the cold outside, the
only feature apparent about the man is the black satchel he carries at his
side. Master Chert and Mickel reappear shortly thereafter looking much
refreshed and bearing new dressings. Quietly, the two make their way
upstairs retiring for the evening.
Warnes having spent the last three evenings perched on the
balcony has almost become a fixture to the townsfolk of Magepoint. From
his vantage point of watching the comings and goings within the inn, he
decides that nothing of import will come to pass this eve, just as nothing
transpired worth mentioning the two previous evenings. Satisfied, he
retires early to his room above. Closing the door behind him, the mage
sets himself to the task of securing his room against intrusion. Taking a
moment to gather himself, Warnes then completes his evening routine and
finally retires to the comfort of his bed.
Within the common room, Jayar spends the evening listening to
the stories of those around him. Basking in the warmth of the room and
the smoke from his pipe, Jayar's thoughts are interrupted when Rowena
bids him good night. Taking her cue, Jayar accompanies her up the two
flights of stairs to their rooms.
Sitting on her bed, Rowena lets out a deep sigh. There were many
things that she needed to be doing right now. One of them being in the
Vesve Forest. That is where she belongs. Yet she can't leave now, no
matter what disaster might be occurring there. Checking that all her
belongings are in order, Rowena undresses and puts on a light nightgown.
With her ring, she doesn't feel the bitter cold as much. Going to the
window, Rowena looks at the street below, then to the stars and moons.
Both Luna and Celene hang in the dark sky above, bathing the
village below in their soft light. Rowena is heartened by the sight of the
waxing Luna and waning Celene. Though miles from home and hearth,
these two companions still accompany her on her travels. Saying a
prayer for the Forest and for all that lives, Rowena slips into bed and
sleeps the night away.
Around midnight, Llaur begins the task of emptying the common
room of the patrons so those who wish may retire. Galen, Rauf and their
fellows move quickly to aid the ostler in stacking the benches and chairs
upon the tables. While doing so they quickly claim an enviable position
near the hearth. Several other travelers claim their sleeping positions as
those townsfolk and itinerants who wish to continue their evening make
their way into the grand room.
As the remaining patrons either bed down for the evening or move
into the grand room, Forngull decides to retire and climbs the stairs up to
his room. Upon entering his room, the mercenary thoroughly searches
everything. Satisfied nothing untoward is within the room, he places a
chair in front of the door to hold it closed. Opening the window, Forngull
scans the small village now bathed mostly in darkness. Grunting, he
closes and bolts the window.
Third Floor
-----------
______________ __________ __
| """ | " |
| _________ # 1 =
A | # 15 | 7 | |____ |
t # |____|____# | |
t # # 16 | 8 | # 2 =
i | |____|____# |_____|
c | # 17 | 9 # | |
| |____|____| # 3 =
______| # 18 | 10 # |_____|
| |____|____| | |
| # 19 | 11 | # 4 =
= |____|____# |_ |
| # 20 | 12 | @@@|
| |____|____# _ @@@|
| # 21 | 13 # | |
= |____|____| # 5 =
| # 22 | 14 # |_____|
| |____|____| | |
= # 6 =
|_______ _______|__ __|
""" "
# - door
= - window
" - window
@ - circular staircase
Locations:
----------
Agath - 4
Gerric - 11
Galen (NPC) - common room
Rauf (NPC) - common room
Reynard - unknown
Franz w/Vigil - 6
Forngull - 14
Rowena - 2
Jayar - 8
Kynuk - unknown
Warnes - 5
Kallum - 5
Rakehell - 3
Mickel - 10