Bendefig Chroesgad

[Stratovarius]

The city of Yn adeinio Dref floats among the clouds of the Ogleddol Fynyddoedd mountains, a great span that covers the north-eastern expanse of Arhosa, and is inhospitable to almost all life. Peaks permanently covered in snow and ice rise from the mists that wreath their noble shoulders, and even the birds do not frequent these icy slopes, preferring warmer and softer climes. Small creatures dash across the snowy covering, sleeping away the winter and reviving in the summer to eat of what little food grows down in the secret valleys that nestle in the confines of the tors, full of cold and hard earth, barely fertile. These valleys are the lifeblood of the Hanian people, for, scattered and weak, they farm amongst the rocky hills, providing the grains that will feed their floating cities.

There is little of life here, up amongst the crown of the world, and it is life that gets smaller every year, for the population of Hania breeds slowly, and is dying at a faster pace. Once some of the greatest mages who travelled the lands in their flying cities, they are now reduced to little more than maintainers of the past, hold on to the best of what once was theirs. Their libraries are full of old texts on manipulation and modification, on making a stone as light as the air or a feather weigh the same as a boulder, yet almost none of the mages can manage those spells, as the shrinking brotherhood tends to part after part of their flying homes, watching the unused sections crumble into the mountains below.

Yn adeinio Dref, today, saw several young men together, their heads close in conversation. Their goals are noble, but it is a long and daunting road ahead.

This is the official game thread for the Noble Crusade. IC chatter only please. Feel free to plot and scheme and plan things. Feel free to use the old King Arthur thread for OOC chatter.

[TheWordSlinger]

Canere looks at his companions briefly before burying his nose back in his book.
"If we could better direct the movements of these islands, we would have a perfect platform for launching our attacks against the forces of Evil. Have either of you found anything useful?"

[Rufei]

Well, men and woman. Ira is most certainly female and rarely changes her form.

The cold nipped at Ira's extremities, despite her best attempts to protect herself from the icy breath of Yn adeinio Dref. A blast of wind managed to lick her back, causing the changeling to retract into her robes, clinging to her chain shirt, glamered into a dense black coat. Glimpsing up at the unbearably bright sky, she responded to her comrade, icy breath coming out in a near continuous stream.

"Well, that would be lovely, of course, but it wouldn't do us much good if we're frozen statues. I'd very much like to descend to the valleys - surely the farmers wouldn't mind having extra security."

Ira slapped the hilt of her blade, an exotic-looking blade of foreign make. Regretting the decision to move her arm away from her warm body, she gripped her "coat" more tightly.

"And, uh, I'm sure I wouldn't mind the extra heat." Her gaze shifted along with her body as she began to tilt her head, as if reading the title of the book. Unable to get a good angle, she rose her eyebrow at Canere, gazing at the cover.

[Shadowhunter]

The third indivudal stood hidden within his furred cloak. If you would gaze upon him, two deep-seated eyes under a heavy brow covered in a duo of massive eyebrows would peer suspciously back towards you, over a big potatoe nose.

Caden Fir is not someone you'd bring to a party. He would never win any beauty contests, never even be though as a competitor. But as someone once said, "Dead? Fir? Ha, Fir's to ugly to die, that bastard'll live through anything, just to mock you if nothing else", he is hard. Mountains like these breeds though sods, and Caden is one of the thoughest.

"Nay, though there's plenty  of 'em 'ol books. It'll take time, and it ain't the funnies thing I've done".

He growls, and spit out a small flame, bright red and vivid. It hits the ground and a hiss starts as the fire melts the ice before dissapearing.

He takes his hands of his broad leather belt, decorated with flying dragons sprouting flames, and starts gesturing with them, muttering some strange utterances.

After a few seconds, his companions feel better aclimatized to the cold and the wind bites less.

"There we go, that ought ta do it. Your fault you had to be upp early to start snoopin around them book, I hadn't the chanse ta enchant ya."

He shoots a glance towards Canere, as if to say this isn't the first time.

You have all heard this before. He might say that books are boring to read, but you've all seen him read his fair share
of books regarding history, the magical arts and the planes of existance.

"But yeah, going down them slopes wouldn't be such a bad idea"

[Stratovarius]

Feel free to plot out where you wish to go, and ask me OOC any questions you have in regards to the setting and what might be an appropriate area. This is very much a player driven campaign.

[TheWordSlinger]

Thank you, Caden. Canere says while taking a moment to straighten his deep purple cloak on his shoulders, making sure the embroidery around the edges is clearly visible to all who walk by. He does this not for vanity, or rather not solely for vanity. Where a Skald is, stories are sure to be told. Canere enjoyed hearing stories about himself when he removed the cloak and walked among the people, but he had to make sure those stories got told by being present as himself for a while at least.
Yes, maybe it would be wise to travel down for a while. I'm certainly not finding any information here. Canere snaps the books shut and begins returning them to their shelves. the room they're in is lit solely by the glowing aura which seems to surround Canere. As he contemplates this aura, Canere glances down at the black fingerless gloves he wears. The thin silver stitching of the gloves emits a glow of the same shade, but much paler.
For the tenth time that morning, Canere makes sure the thick bronze belt around his waist is in place, that his scrolls are tucked securely into it, and that his greatsword, longbow, and quiver are all within reach. Almost as an afterthought, Canere brushes the harp hidden under his cloak. But tonight, I put on my final performance for Yn adeinio Dref. I shall sing a tale of battle...of War.
This had been Canere's pattern for quite a while, travel from city to city, research during the day and perform during the night. On every night but the last, he would play mostly traditional songs, with a slight bent for those about the virtues of noble battle. On the final night, he would sing a song warning of a War against evil that would come swiftly and unexpectedly. His song often caused a stir, but people spoke of it, and he hoped some would heed his call when he was in need. He would need all the aid he could get once his War started. He was glad for the continued aid of Caden and Ira, but they would not be enough to vanquish evil finally.
For now, Canere spins from the room and makes his exit, his blond hair and purple cloak flowing behind him, I will advertise and practice.

[Rufei]

Ira could feel warmth return to her fingers. The cold certainly didn't bite anymore, which gave Ira room to relax her pose. Letting a puff of vapor out as she sighed, she gave up her attempt to read Canere's book and instead faced Caden.

"Isn't magic useful, hmm? Just a few flicks of the hand and some utterances and the world becomes that much easier."

She shook her head, not in disapproval but with a grin, knowing that her path, that of the martial, was far more bitter. If only she had a more idyllic childhood, perhaps she would have mastered the arcane. She shrugged the thought - after all, it wasn't going anywhere, unlike a comrade of hers.

Noting Canere's exit, Ira made her way to the door. With her hand placed on the door frame, she paused and looked back at Caden.

"I'll meet you down at the valley. The sun does not wait for the slothful and neither do enemies. I'm sure the warmth will do our conversation some good, as well as Canere, as soon as he returns."

Ira heads to the valley - I assume it's geographically obvious to the PCs by now.

[Stratovarius]

The valley is right below you. However, the only way to get down there is magic, and that only happens a couple times a day. You'll probably have to wait till next morning, unless you can convince a mage it is critical.

[TheWordSlinger]

This Post was edited because I hit the ctrl key as I hit an 's'...
Canere stands in the center of Yn adeinio Dref's main square, his harp resting lightly in his hands. His golden eyes sweep across the square, taking in the crowd huddled around the bonfire built for warmth in the cool evening of the floating city. Caden, Canere speaks to the man on his left, his voice barely above a whisper, I think these people might appreciate some of your magical attention.
Canere then turns to the crowd, leaving Caden to decide whether or not to heed his advice. Standing with harp at the ready, he begins t speak.
"Friends, fellow Hanians. For many of the past nights, I have played for you. On all of these nights, I have played the songs of other bards. Tonight, I play a melody of my own devising."
Without further pause, Canere begins to play. At first his melody is calm and tranquil, easily followed, but pleasing none the less. Then he slowly begins adding jarring notes, a few here and there. As he increases the number of jarring notes, he continues to play the calm ones as normal. Eventually, the jarring notes outweigh the calm ones by a large margin. At this point, Canere activates the power of his gloves, causing him to emit his aura of light. At the same time, he channels his arcane power through his harp in order to improve his performance for the remainder.
At this point, a low, strong, but ultimately calm note begins repeating itself. Just like the calm notes before, this one is very pleasing to the ear. It slowly but surely inserts itself into the melody, slowly becoming the only note heard in it. Then that note too dies away, and the calm notes begin again.
Canere repeats the pattern, sans magic item activation and spell casting, a few times, then he stops with the first note of the new calm set.
It was a song of War. Canere states to the crowd before him, A song of what was and what may be again. War is no more evil than this harp with which I play. One day, I may have need of an army, to purge a great evil from this world. I hope that when I have need, you shall remember my song. Canre bows, making a great flourish with his cloak, before heading to the Inn to get some rest.

Perform (Harp) (1d20+13=21) 23 after Heroism is cast.

[Stratovarius]

I think you got cut off in mid-post

[TheWordSlinger]

I think you got cut off in mid-post

Very astute...

[Shadowhunter]

At the meeting:

Raising his head slightly, furrowing his brows and with a mock face of indignity, Caden replies:
"Aye, but this be different Ira.
I've told you, this isn't normal magic. This is dragon magic, might and knowledge gained from the greatest of Wyrms, beeings of great power!"

He grins, as he exlamate the last statement.
They've been through this discussion before.

As she leaves, he waves her of with a much used phrase by now.
"Ah, well have a jolly, I'll meet up with ya later."

----------------------------------------------------------------

At the Main Square:

Taking a quick glance towards Canere, Caden then surveys the crowd.
"Right". he mutters.
"But I think that'lla nick the show, me hobbing about, gesturing and muttering whilst people start feeling different." he finish. Very quietly.

Setteling in comfortable stance, he silently watches the preformance whilst observing the crowd. The fireplace casts it's vivid light, shadows dancing at the outskirts. His gaze slips into the flames...

'The dragon swept past high over Caden, who's legs were pinned under a burning cart. Everywhere he looked, the houses were ablaze, the citizens trapped inside that conflagration or out in the streets, running for their lives as terror took hold of their hearts. '
That was just one dragon. Just one, a young one, but the devastation... Never again. Not ever again.

He shakes his head, supressing the gruesome memories and focuses on the present.
A while lafter, about halfway through Caneres preformance, Caden decides to quietly leave.

Nope, dosen't seem to be any ground for hard feelings when he's done, this' one of 'em better ones.
Better check out Ira, that woman have a knack for getting into trouble. Then again, we're no different, we are Adventurers after all.

[Rufei]

"Beings of great power, huh? Ha..."

Her pacing had led her about halfway to the exit down from the floating town, but as her foot snagged on a lonesome rock, she came back to her senses. Her wandering gaze of wonderment abrupted by the realization that the path was closed, the changeling made her way back to town center, albeit at an even slower pace.

The music of Canere had mesmerized the crowd, and if it were her first time she too would be amongst the many at that square, enchanted by the music. Though, she knew better, so while she sat down on a convenient ledge, she could only bear to smirk at Canere's performance. It was certainly a song that she seldom heard from that voice of his; at least the variety was pleasing.

And even despite her experience regarding Canere's singing, she failed to notice her other comrade, who sat in comfort not quite opposite of her. It would seem that the music still captured Ira's attention, playing with her awareness.

[Stratovarius]

Move you guys down to the ground level with the next dawn?

[TheWordSlinger]

Move you guys down to the ground level with the next dawn?

Unless someone else objects, yes

[Stratovarius]

The next morning sees the three friends gathered at the portal to the ground below, along with those others who have need of going to the ground. Workers with their tools and feed go first, having priority as a necessary duty, while those who have no pressing need are relegated to the back of the line. Thus it is that the party are some of the last down, arriving in the midst of the temporary town that is created wherever the city decides to farm. The structures are easily collapsible, created with hinges and pins, and taken up for the winter months, and then deployed again in a new valley for the spring farming. The centre of the town is a portal, allowing travel between the ground and the floating city overhead. Even these are guttering and dim, requiring mages to expend their own power just to keep the portals operating.

Recovered from the slightly unnerving travel downwards, the three friends are ready to explore the surrounding town and valley.

[TheWordSlinger]

Canere strolls to the fields, his cloak pushed back by the wind whipping though the valley. When he reaches the fields he watches the farmers beginning their day's toils. As he strums his harp to lift the spirits of the farmers, he muses to himself.
The ancient Hanians must have had a magical means of food creation. Surely those powerful mages would be able to spare their people this work and travel. Yet another ancient magical working for me to wonder on...
What I have need of is a scholar, one who is well versed in the history of all of Arhosa. Ludo was such a man, and would have otherwise been an asset to me, but... Canere hears a loud snap and realizes he's broken one of the strings on his harp without noticing. Blast it, Canere. This is no time to dwell on such things. The past is past and the future should be what you focus on. Honor Ludo by making his ideals a reality, but stop dwelling on his death.

[Rufei]

There he goes again.

Ira chuckled, swaying her head slightly to the side. Slinging her sheathed sword over her right shoulder, she reflexively touched the breast of her clothes, glamering her outfit into her usual, fearsome black fullplate. After taking a few steps, however, her conscience caught up with her actions. Looking around in caution, as though worried by the potential reaction to her outfit, she made the same adjustment. Now outfitted in a simple military jacket, she began to make her way down a different path, towards the center of the valley. Although it lacked an emblem of any sorts, the red, ankle-long coat contrasted with the less aggressive wear of the farmers. Surely, she hoped, if an attack were made she would at least be made the first target.

However, the blurred horizon proved annoying, and while she responded to the simple hails from some of the more familiar farmers, she plucked out her glasses, donning them. As for her gaze, however, it was fixated moreso on Canere, whose broken string stirred her attention.

Hmm, would that be a bad omen then? Maybe today should be a day of caution...

[Shadowhunter]

Setting foot upon more widespread soil, Caden lets out a small, comfortable sigh.
I don't mind beein' up there, it beein' my home and all, but there's only so much to see on a crumbling piece of floating rock.
This is more like it, there's stuff out there. Things. Things and stuff.
He smiles shortly, then begin to stroll at a leisure pace onwards the valley, whilst keeping himself within sight of Canere and not too far away.

He reaches Caneres side just as the latter breaks the string whilst lost in thought.

"Ya thinkin' about somethin'?"
Caden says, joning up and standing by his companions side. By force of habit, he starts surveying the area, not trying to look for something special but taking in the scenery.

"It ain't like ye to bust a thread like that."

He pauses, scratch his chin with a dissproportinatly thick finger for its lenght, and continues.

"Unless we count that time on the boat, but that was a bit of rough seagoing and a few to many... dubiously dangerous idiots. Ya wanna call thugs 'n robbers wavining swords around like some half-assed drunk goblins idiots?
I do. Still, better those three strings than yer neck, it weren't much of a gap between 'em".

He looks up and smiles, making his face show an amount of wrinkles you didn't think were possible to have.

Taking some liberties in developing mutual background, hope you don't mind

[TheWordSlinger]

I've broken more strings than there are coins in a dragon's treasure, Caden. Canere smiles as his nimble fingers work at repairing the broken string. Although you'd be right about my being lost in thought. I've been thinking that we have a lot of potential, but no real ability to put it to use. We need to find a scholar, someone who knows of ancient Arhosa. Maybe such a man could direct us toward the secrets of the ancient Hanians...
Do you know of such a man, Caden?
Canere begins playing again on his repaired harp, and his smile grows from a turning of his lips to a full beaming grin, And I wouldn't have needed to have endangered my harp if I hadn't left my blade in the cabin.