Prologue - Argos

[crazy_sherm]

Ser Nelio heads up the stairs and enters his room through the third door, shutting the door behind him. He carefully removes his armor and goes through his night time routine. First polishing the armor, then sharpening his blades, folding his clothes, and finally a prayer to help clear his mind before be bed. However, he is unable to shake what sounded like the voice of his grandfather downstairs accompanied by the vision. Memories flow through his mind as he drifts off to sleep, imagining the lullabies that grandpapa used to sing to him.

[Kazgaroth]

Glad starts at the sudden outbursts, but quickly returns to the stoic manner in which you have seen so far.

She points to the stairs and gestures to each of you in turn.  "Your rooms are upstairs, the first..." (Korgan) "...second..." (Careus) "...and third..." (Nelio) "...doors on the right.  Please ring the bell on the side table if you need anything further, I'm going to rest here by the fire and dry off."

Korgan waits anxiously for the gnome and elf to retire to their rooms.  After, what seemed like an eternity, he slowly approaches Glad.

"Glad - where did that staff come from?" gesturing towards the mantle..

[Gnomeo]

Glad turns to glance over her shoulder at the display case bearing the metal staff.  Without taking her eyes off of it, she says, "If you believe the story, and I do because it came from my father, it was a gift from Deezil.  He crafted it within Norbal from the shattered remains of a golem they defeated on the third floor. 'A nasty thing,' my father said.  Deezil said it would bring the inn good luck."

(click to show/hide)

It's hard to put into words, but you get the feeling that she is aware that the staff does more than decorate the place.

[Kazgaroth]

Glad turns to glance over her shoulder at the display case bearing the metal staff.  Without taking her eyes off of it, she says, "If you believe the story, and I do because it came from my father, it was a gift from Deezil.  He crafted it within Norbal from the shattered remains of a golem they defeated on the third floor. 'A nasty thing,' my father said.  Deezil said it would bring the inn good luck."

(click to show/hide)

It's hard to put into words, but you get the feeling that she is aware that the staff does more than decorate the place.

"You mean the story of this town?  I'm not familiar with it but I've heard rumors about events that took place a time ago.  What does the staff do?  Why did Deezil give it to your father?

[Gnomeo]

"I was referring to the story of the staff. There are some who don't believe my father, and say that the staff is a fake he bought to attract customers. I believed this once myself, I must admit. The inn fell on hard times and I contacted a gentleman to appraise the staff. He told me that the staff holds strong sorcery, more than one should be able to imbue in an item of such quality. The craftsmanship was beyond his knowledge, but he was able to determine that it holds both divine and arcane magic. That is something only Deezil was capable of. As such it is worth more than any buyer is willing to pay since we have no idea what it actually does."

(click to show/hide)

You believe she is being honest.

[Kazgaroth]

"I was referring to the story of the staff. There are some who don't believe my father, and say that the staff is a fake he bought to attract customers. I believed this once myself, I must admit. The inn fell on hard times and I contacted a gentleman to appraise the staff. He told me that the staff holds strong sorcery, more than one should be able to imbue in an item of such quality. The craftsmanship was beyond his knowledge, but he was able to determine that it holds both divine and arcane magic. That is something only Deezil was capable of. As such it is worth more than any buyer is willing to pay since we have no idea what it actually does."

(click to show/hide)

You believe she is being honest.

"I'd like to hear the story of the staff and why Deezil gave it to your sire"

[Gnomeo]

"I honestly don't know why Deezil gave it to Father.  If Father ever knew the staff's purpose, he never told me.  All he said was that Deezil said it would bring luck to the inn.  No that's not how he phrased it.  He said: 'It will attract travelers who will choose the path to Norbal.'  Which is silly, because we're the only inn in town so anyone on the path to Norbal will have to stay here.  That's why I figured it was his way of saying it was lucky."

(click to show/hide)

Note: Your skill roll lasts until the end of the encounter, so assume that you accept her words as truth unless I say otherwise.

[Kazgaroth]

"I honestly don't know why Deezil gave it to Father.  If Father ever knew the staff's purpose, he never told me.  All he said was that Deezil said it would bring luck to the inn.  No that's not how he phrased it.  He said: 'It will attract travelers who will choose the path to Norbal.'  Which is silly, because we're the only inn in town so anyone on the path to Norbal will have to stay here.  That's why I figured it was his way of saying it was lucky."

(click to show/hide)

Note: Your skill roll lasts until the end of the encounter, so assume that you accept her words as truth unless I say otherwise.

"That's definitely an interesting story.  It most certainly has my interest now.  You mentioned earlier that I seem familiar to you.  Have you any memory of when we last met?

[Gnomeo]

"I mistook you for a traveler that passed through here.  A Dwarf on his way to Norbal.  We only met briefly, and I might not have remembered him so well had he not been a Sorcerer.  Dwarven Sorcerers are a rare breed, as I'm sure you're aware.  Come to think of it, he was also very interested in that staff.  He recognized the potency immediately, and asked many of the same questions you are now.  He flatly refused to produce a name, instead insisting I simply call him Sorcerer.  The Sorcerers I've encountered have all been an odd lot, so I didn't pay it any more mind."

[Kazgaroth]

"I mistook you for a traveler that passed through here.  A Dwarf on his way to Norbal.  We only met briefly, and I might not have remembered him so well had he not been a Sorcerer.  Dwarven Sorcerers are a rare breed, as I'm sure you're aware.  Come to think of it, he was also very interested in that staff.  He recognized the potency immediately, and asked many of the same questions you are now.  He flatly refused to produce a name, instead insisting I simply call him Sorcerer.  The Sorcerers I've encountered have all been an odd lot, so I didn't pay it any more mind."

"Yes, he's the one I come in search of.  When did you last see him?  Did he go into this dungeon that I've heard rumors about?

[Gnomeo]

"I last saw the Sorcerer nearly two months ago.  He was indeed headed into Norbal, or the Chaos Dungeon as most folk call it these days.  Our sheriff, Ward, keeps a record of every traveler to Norbal.  I wager he would have a more accurate date to give you.  You will find him at the town square at sunrise, preparing the week's journey to Norbal."

[NasT]

Caerus sleeps restlessly and recent memories wander through his thoughts.

Opening his eyes, he finds himself in his old bed, at his old manor, in his home town of Ferris.  He dresses in a fine shirt and jacket and heads outside.  As he steps beyond the threshold, the warm sun cuts through a salty sea breeze and he finds himself at the dockside market.  At midday, the street is bustling and people of all kinds scurry about.

His father stands on the deck of large twin-masted sailing ship as the crew unloads crates of various goods down a ramp.  Cordelia stands next to him observing everything. "Primrose" is ornately emblazoned on the bow of the ship with images of flowering vines stretching from the angelic figurehead to a point even with the first mast.  Boarding the luxurious vessel, he greats his family.

"Good morning, Father; Sister.

Cordelia is the first to speak.

You were supposed to be here hours ago.  You're the oldest, why don't you act like it for once.  The silks and linens are fine, but we can't get the silver to market until we inspect the inventory which was to be your job.  Once that's done, mother still has to review it.  She's looking for some odd trinket that was lost in the hold.  It's for her studies.  We think it's mixed in with the silver.

Wait! Act my age?! Who hunted the deer we ate while Father and Mother were away?

The money from that silver can buy a thousand deer!  Now hurry to!

His father nods to Cordelia, approvingly.  With that, she hands Caerus the log book and nods towards the cargo hold.  As he enters down the steps, an odd mix of smells, freshly cut pine, exotic spices, and spoiled fish, sting his nose.  After a few more paces, the warmth of the sun is gone and the shadows overtake him. 

[Kazgaroth]

"I last saw the Sorcerer nearly two months ago.  He was indeed headed into Norbal, or the Chaos Dungeon as most folk call it these days.  Our sheriff, Ward, keeps a record of every traveler to Norbal.  I wager he would have a more accurate date to give you.  You will find him at the town square at sunrise, preparing the week's journey to Norbal."

"Thank you Glad.  I will find Ward in the morning."  Korgan hands Glad a gold piece and turns around to gather his belongings from the table.  He then heads upstairs to his room to get some sleep before morning comes too quickly.

[NasT]

He blinks twice and waits for his sensitive eyes to adjust.  When they do, instead of seeing the cargo hold and its stacks of crates as he was expecting, he is in a dry, cold, stone room.  In front of him is a marble table with bottles of various shapes containing all colors of liquids.  A bowl simmers over an alcohol lamp off to his right.

Finished, Mother!  A small girls voice enters his consciousness.  He turns to see Myrielle holding a flask of pure blue-green liquid up to his Mother. 

Crouching down, the slender, graceful elf smiles to her youngest child.

That's fine work.  And how did you fair, Caerus?

Caerus carefully handles the bowl over the lamp.  Looking inside, he sees a purplish-grey, oily mess.  The sludge continues to bubble, even after being removed from the heat.   As he peers down, a foul stench enters his nose and wrinkles it. Noticing this reaction, his mother walks to him.

Oh goodness, Caerus!  We are mages, NOT orcish apothecaries!  Show some finesse!  Myri is all of seven and has already surpassed you.  And, she's begun casting as well.

See, brother?  Myrielle giggles, proud of herself.  I can cast Light!

A bright flash washes away his vision.

Remember how you taught me to read? ...Well Common anyway; Mother taught me Elvish.  But maybe I can teach this to you...  Myri's voice - and her smile - fades with the workshop.

Caerus awakens, back in Argos.  Sitting up, he stares out to the rainy night.  Morning cannot come soon enough.

[Gnomeo]

After Korgan heads upstairs, the remaining patrons follow suit.  Glad produces a cleaning rag from a pocket in the apron she wears.  She cleans up the remaining tables, collects the day's earnings, and heads off to get a few hours of sleep before the new day dawns.

Later in the evening, a hooded figure enters the common room from upstairs.  The figure moves swiftly and silently to the hearth fire, pausing only once to listen for eavesdroppers.  Finding none, the figure turns to the wooden display case and has the following conversation in a quieted voice with an unheard participant:

"I have done as requested.  The candidates are delivered."

"I have delivered what I can, we're still locating the fourth.  Special arrangements have been made to unite them once that task is done.  There is little else I can do until then."

"I fail to see their merit.  What makes them any more capable than the last group?"

"Consider yourself lucky I wasn't the one to pick them, then.  This Sorcerer of yours better be right."

With that, the mysterious figure stalks across the common room floor and out the back door; silent as a ghost.