Okay. You head for the door. The bodies are stinking even worse now, and you must wade through a small horde of flies to get to the door.
Outside, you step into the fresh air for the first time in over a week, glad to be heading back to Castle Greyhawk. You spend the first night in a small side canyon, and the next day dawns clear and bright. Towards the middle of the morning, you look up, to see small dots overhead. Birds, you think to yourselves, circling on a thermal.
But the dots grow larger, and larger. Big birds... VERY BIG BIRDS.
They swoop down on you from out of the sky, and there is nowhere to run, the walls of the hills penning you in. In moments, Two Rocs grab you up, two in each talon, and sweep you off into the sky.
Helpless in the grip of the rocs, you are swept aloft, higher and higher, until the countryside is laid out below you like a map. Mile after mile, the rocs steady wing beats carry you towards whatever fate awaits, but for now, you console yourselves with the magnificent view and your fortune at still being alive.
After some time, the open country you have been flying over gives way to a dense forest, and beyond this, a broad, grassy plain, but the roc's destination lies still further. Dead ahead, a dark, snow-capped mountain looms up beyond the plain, flanked on either side by lesser peaks.
Running like a gash down the mountain side, a deep valley sends forth a river onto the plain below. The river meanders through great loops until it forms a small lake. The river and lake remind you of the head and body of a snake, and the image is completed by an island in the lake like the snake's eye. Never faltering, the rocs carry you towards the mountain's peak, following the course of the valley. At its mouth is a steamy marsh, above this a grassy meadow, woods and lake, and higher still are two more lakes, icy blue and bounded by snow-covered slopes. Finally, you come to the roc's nest, perched on a rocky crag near the peak.
Suddenly, all of you are dumped from the rocs' grip into the nest. poor Oops has been clinging to Neera's shoulder with all four claws and caterwauling softly (or not so softly) into her ear the whole trip, makes a noise like a squeaky hinge and clamps down harder with her claws. You land at least somewhat softly.
The nest is a massive structure of tangled trees and branches- there is even an old wagon and half a small boat incorporated into it! The central hollow, where you have been dumped, is carpeted with leaves and contains the sad remains of the roc's past victims- both animal and human.
For a few moments, the rocs remain near the nest. Then, apparently satisfied that their captives are secure, they flap away into the distance.
As you watch them leave, your eyes are drawn down to the magnificent view from the nest. Spread out below you is the long valley, hemmed in on either side by towering walls of rock.
Beyond the valley is the winding river. Shimmering in a shaft of sunlight which breaks through the clouds, it reminds you more than ever of a snake. Just for a moment, before the clouds close over, the light catches the island in the lake, which answers with a sparkling glint like a winking, inviting eye.
The darkish blotch near the top of the mountain is the nest.
Ahead of you is the wilderness. I'd advise you to use either Minsc or Jaheira to lead your party down the mountain. Let me know who is picking the way and when (and if) you want to switch off.
Alora is very quiet. She wet herself when the Rocs swooped down and picked her up and she is hoping no one will notice. "II don't like it here," she announces "I want to go home."
Neera is frantically trying to calm Oops down. Poor thing.
"Things are ok! Things are fine! I mean, you're a big strong cat that could easily have eaten those birds. You were just going easy on them so that you can pounce when they least expect it! Though, where are we? Does this happen you all often? I usually get transported long distances randomly, but it's usually by magic, not by bird. . ."
"Where better to sit, than on nature's very crown?" Jaheira did not understand the distress of the others. "And think, little one, of the bardic tales you will tell!" Alora was out of her element, but Jaheira felt able to calm her. "And, if anything should go awry, perhaps I will become a bear for you again." Not that doing so was child's play, but it had its advantages.
Ajantis adjusts his armor, checks his equipment, and frowns at the remains of the rocs' victims. "There may be something here we can use, Alora, but I'd suggest you make the search quick. We need to get moving before those overgrown chickens return for lunch."
OOC: Holy crap, I wrote a doozie. Well, that's what happens when you pick up an ex-avariel and fly her through the air. I'm warning you--heaping mounds of Aerie Angst, dead ahead!
***
When Aerie had first glimpsed the giant rocs swooping down on them, she'd brandished her quarterstaff and stood her ground, a tremble in her body as she prepared for combat.
But after whiffing the first blow, the second, and third, the bird scooped her into its talons like a measly rabbit and took to the air.
"Hyaaa!" Aerie shrieked as she squirmed and kicked as hard as she could within the roc's grasp. She smacked her staff against its toes a couple times, but as the world shrunk below her, she gave up her attacks. After all, the last thing she wanted to have happen hundreds of feet in the air was for her charge to drop her out of the sky.
The wind stole a sigh from her lips as her thoughts returned to the druid awaiting them at Castle Greyhawk. For weeks they'd searched the caverns for her healing springs, and now she would have to wait even longer. No doubt her unhappiness would fester the longer their journey took...
And yet, she looked around. At mountain peaks spearing the sky, the lush army of trees, the glistening serpent river and lake. Such beauty through the eyes of the roc, a beauty that Aerie hadn't seen in an achingly long time.
Mother and father... My Faenya-Dail... Bathing in the sun's gentle rays, Aerie closed her eyes and took in the wind, felt her hair and clothes blow wild in its breath. How many years had it been since she last lost herself amongst the clouds, raced the birds and other fellow winged through the heavens? Peered down at those rooted in the ground like a god to her subjects?
How many years...before she'd been ripped from her home and trapped in a cage. Before a thousand pairs of eyes day after day walked by her cage and watched as she wept. Before her own wings began to rot, crunched like crooked twigs in the enclosed space, and those evil slavers sawed them off.
"No don't..." Aerie murmured under her breath as the memory flashed behind her eyes. Again and again and again. "Don't take them away... Please don't take my wings away. Don't take away my Faenya-Dail, please!"
Tears spilled free and quickly dried to her cheeks in the buffeting wind. So many years, so many flights stolen from her, that she'd almost forgotten the joy of flying. She'd almost forgotten the pain and hardship she'd suffered relearning how to walk, how to talk, how to smile. How to have faith in a god who'd seemingly forsaken her. How to love, for though her beloved Uncle Quayle had shown her great kindness upon her adoption, he was still a ground-dweller. And ground-dwellers were evil, so young Aerie had believed, for it was they who'd taken her home, her family, and finally her very self from her.
The vibrant landscape never dulled, never lost its glow for the rest of the trip. But by the time the rocs deposited them into the nest, Aerie had not basked in its glory even once. Lying in the twigs, Aerie gazed after the rocs long after they'd disappeared from view.
Baevarn curse you, she thought, for she dared not speak, choking back another onset of tears. Curse you and all your kin for reopening my wounds.
Reopened. As if her wounds had ever truly closed. A bitter smile tugged Aerie's lips as she pulled her gaze from the rocs, and glanced over her jostled companions.
Alora follow the advice of Ajantis, her fellow paladin, and does a quick search of the nest, seeing if she can find anything useful (or shiny) before the party makes it descent.
Alora searches the nest. Inside, along with a welter of bones (mostly cattle, horses and sheep, but there are also the splintered bones of about a dozen humans and demi-humans), She finds a helmet painted with gold in the shape of wings and adorned with semi-precious stones (worth about 600 gp), a leather backpack containing 50 ft of rope, a packet of dried food (equal to about a week's worth of iron rations), a wineskin full of wine, a bag holding 50gp, a vial of holy water, and a ceramic bottle labeled "Healing brew". There is also a silver dagger (worth about 20gp), a long sword in a scabbard, a small wooden shield, and a quiver holding 11 arrows (6 with silver heads).
The last thing she finds is tucked into the side of the nest, a sheet of beaten copper, now crumpled and bent. It reads: "Trial by Ordeal- Ji Surefoot, horse thief, murderer. Fearing the guardian of the island, you have chosen to seek the Serpent's Eye on Hardway Mountain. Such is your right. Go then, nothing but death or the Snake's Precious Jewel can give you back your honor. Arn Flowmane, Guardian of the Island."
Incised below this with something sharp (possibly the point of a dagger), reads, "Evil old fool; death and honour I have found but the Serpent's Eye was yours all along!"
Alora is very excited. This is the most treasure she has ever found. She shares her discoveries with the group. "Look at all this. Look at this helmet. Isn't it pretty. And there is a sword and a silver dagger and silver arrows. Why d'you suppose anyone wanted silver arrows? It seems a bit of a waste if you are just going to shoot them at monsters."
Aerie slowly lumbered to her feet, brushing sticks and dirt and some white stuff that was probably roc dung. She didn't care to think about what it might have been all too much. She didn't care to think about anything.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I suppose we should."
The light of Alora's winged helmet caught her eye, but Aerie quickly averted her gaze. Twist went the knife, burrowed a little deeper.
Ajantis assists Anomen in tying off the rope before drawing his blade and scanning the sky while the others descend. "Helm, guard this servant and his allies."
"Helm has no voice here," Jaheira remarked, for this was truly the wilderness. "This is untamed, holy, and natural." Running her hands on the stone, she seemed to feel the very bones of the earth. "Save for this poisoning and litter." Meaning the ridiculous copper sheet with its profane riddles.
Looking out toward the distant horizon, she removed her helmet and shook her hair free in the wind. After so much time in the deep, shielded from sun and sky, she reveled in the moment and was deeply happy.
Neera might not be the most perceptive individual but. . .
"Hey, Aerie. Are you alright? You look cute but in a 'someone hug me' sort of way as opposed to the kindhearted cuteness you normally have."
Before Aerie can respond Neera hugs Aerie, "I don't really know what your issue is but know we're your friends. You guys don't complain about my Wild Magic turning monsters pink so I'm sure we can help you with whatever you need, right?"
OOC: At this rate I'm never going to romance anyone in BG2 but Aerie. My plan on my Bard run was to romance Neera but AERIE IS SO HUGGABLE.
Alora is going to take the Small Wooden shield (I think as a thief she can use a small shield in combat?). She will also hang on to the silver dagger. She doesn't have a bow so she will give the silver arrows to someone who does.
"Who is going to carry all this stuff I found? There is a backpack full of potions and rope and stuff. And does anyone want to try this sword? It might be a good one. And there is the helmet. Who wants to wear it? It's really shiny."
Alora can't wear the helmet (despite being a paladin) because she has fashioned a strap to the feet of the stuffed cockatrice and is wearing it on her head as a hat.
Alora can't wear the helmet (despite being a paladin) because she has fashioned a strap to the feet of the stuffed cockatrice and is wearing it on her head as a hat.
When you look over the side of the nest, you see a ledge about 40 feet below the nest. It looks broad and strong enough to hold the entire party, and runs off down the mountain to where it splits about a mile and a half below. Then it runs both east (ish) and west (ish).
"Maybe you should lower me down first because I don't weigh very much. Then I can hold the other end of the rope to stop it swinging about when the next person comes down."
Comments
Outside, you step into the fresh air for the first time in over a week, glad to be heading back to Castle Greyhawk. You spend the first night in a small side canyon, and the next day dawns clear and bright. Towards the middle of the morning, you look up, to see small dots overhead. Birds, you think to yourselves, circling on a thermal.
But the dots grow larger, and larger. Big birds... VERY BIG BIRDS.
They swoop down on you from out of the sky, and there is nowhere to run, the walls of the hills penning you in. In moments, Two Rocs grab you up, two in each talon, and sweep you off into the sky.
Helpless in the grip of the rocs, you are swept aloft, higher and higher, until the countryside is laid out below you like a map. Mile after mile, the rocs steady wing beats carry you towards whatever fate awaits, but for now, you console yourselves with the magnificent view and your fortune at still being alive.
After some time, the open country you have been flying over gives way to a dense forest, and beyond this, a broad, grassy plain, but the roc's destination lies still further. Dead ahead, a dark, snow-capped mountain looms up beyond the plain, flanked on either side by lesser peaks.
Running like a gash down the mountain side, a deep valley sends forth a river onto the plain below. The river meanders through great loops until it forms a small lake. The river and lake remind you of the head and body of a snake, and the image is completed by an island in the lake like the snake's eye. Never faltering, the rocs carry you towards the mountain's peak, following the course of the valley. At its mouth is a steamy marsh, above this a grassy meadow, woods and lake, and higher still are two more lakes, icy blue and bounded by snow-covered slopes. Finally, you come to the roc's nest, perched on a rocky crag near the peak.
Suddenly, all of you are dumped from the rocs' grip into the nest. poor Oops has been clinging to Neera's shoulder with all four claws and caterwauling softly (or not so softly) into her ear the whole trip, makes a noise like a squeaky hinge and clamps down harder with her claws. You land at least somewhat softly.
The nest is a massive structure of tangled trees and branches- there is even an old wagon and half a small boat incorporated into it! The central hollow, where you have been dumped, is carpeted with leaves and contains the sad remains of the roc's past victims- both animal and human.
For a few moments, the rocs remain near the nest. Then, apparently satisfied that their captives are secure, they flap away into the distance.
As you watch them leave, your eyes are drawn down to the magnificent view from the nest. Spread out below you is the long valley, hemmed in on either side by towering walls of rock.
Beyond the valley is the winding river. Shimmering in a shaft of sunlight which breaks through the clouds, it reminds you more than ever of a snake. Just for a moment, before the clouds close over, the light catches the island in the lake, which answers with a sparkling glint like a winking, inviting eye.
http://ladyrhianwriter.deviantart.com/art/The-Next-Adventire-Begins-575591021?ga_submit_new=10%3A1448999195
The darkish blotch near the top of the mountain is the nest.
Ahead of you is the wilderness. I'd advise you to use either Minsc or Jaheira to lead your party down the mountain. Let me know who is picking the way and when (and if) you want to switch off.
Alora is very quiet. She wet herself when the Rocs swooped down and picked her up and she is hoping no one will notice. "II don't like it here," she announces "I want to go home."
"Things are ok! Things are fine! I mean, you're a big strong cat that could easily have eaten those birds. You were just going easy on them so that you can pounce when they least expect it! Though, where are we? Does this happen you all often? I usually get transported long distances randomly, but it's usually by magic, not by bird. . ."
What mess have we been dragged to now?
***
When Aerie had first glimpsed the giant rocs swooping down on them, she'd brandished her quarterstaff and stood her ground, a tremble in her body as she prepared for combat.
But after whiffing the first blow, the second, and third, the bird scooped her into its talons like a measly rabbit and took to the air.
"Hyaaa!" Aerie shrieked as she squirmed and kicked as hard as she could within the roc's grasp. She smacked her staff against its toes a couple times, but as the world shrunk below her, she gave up her attacks. After all, the last thing she wanted to have happen hundreds of feet in the air was for her charge to drop her out of the sky.
The wind stole a sigh from her lips as her thoughts returned to the druid awaiting them at Castle Greyhawk. For weeks they'd searched the caverns for her healing springs, and now she would have to wait even longer. No doubt her unhappiness would fester the longer their journey took...
And yet, she looked around. At mountain peaks spearing the sky, the lush army of trees, the glistening serpent river and lake. Such beauty through the eyes of the roc, a beauty that Aerie hadn't seen in an achingly long time.
Mother and father... My Faenya-Dail... Bathing in the sun's gentle rays, Aerie closed her eyes and took in the wind, felt her hair and clothes blow wild in its breath. How many years had it been since she last lost herself amongst the clouds, raced the birds and other fellow winged through the heavens? Peered down at those rooted in the ground like a god to her subjects?
How many years...before she'd been ripped from her home and trapped in a cage. Before a thousand pairs of eyes day after day walked by her cage and watched as she wept. Before her own wings began to rot, crunched like crooked twigs in the enclosed space, and those evil slavers sawed them off.
"No don't..." Aerie murmured under her breath as the memory flashed behind her eyes. Again and again and again. "Don't take them away... Please don't take my wings away. Don't take away my Faenya-Dail, please!"
Tears spilled free and quickly dried to her cheeks in the buffeting wind. So many years, so many flights stolen from her, that she'd almost forgotten the joy of flying. She'd almost forgotten the pain and hardship she'd suffered relearning how to walk, how to talk, how to smile. How to have faith in a god who'd seemingly forsaken her. How to love, for though her beloved Uncle Quayle had shown her great kindness upon her adoption, he was still a ground-dweller. And ground-dwellers were evil, so young Aerie had believed, for it was they who'd taken her home, her family, and finally her very self from her.
The vibrant landscape never dulled, never lost its glow for the rest of the trip. But by the time the rocs deposited them into the nest, Aerie had not basked in its glory even once. Lying in the twigs, Aerie gazed after the rocs long after they'd disappeared from view.
Baevarn curse you, she thought, for she dared not speak, choking back another onset of tears. Curse you and all your kin for reopening my wounds.
Reopened. As if her wounds had ever truly closed. A bitter smile tugged Aerie's lips as she pulled her gaze from the rocs, and glanced over her jostled companions.
Not at all. I'm just as broken as I was before.
"Moradin's beard... Good to have somesthing... solid under my legs again."
Alora searches the nest. Inside, along with a welter of bones (mostly cattle, horses and sheep, but there are also the splintered bones of about a dozen humans and demi-humans), She finds a helmet painted with gold in the shape of wings and adorned with semi-precious stones (worth about 600 gp), a leather backpack containing 50 ft of rope, a packet of dried food (equal to about a week's worth of iron rations), a wineskin full of wine, a bag holding 50gp, a vial of holy water, and a ceramic bottle labeled "Healing brew". There is also a silver dagger (worth about 20gp), a long sword in a scabbard, a small wooden shield, and a quiver holding 11 arrows (6 with silver heads).
The last thing she finds is tucked into the side of the nest, a sheet of beaten copper, now crumpled and bent. It reads: "Trial by Ordeal- Ji Surefoot, horse thief, murderer. Fearing the guardian of the island, you have chosen to seek the Serpent's Eye on Hardway Mountain. Such is your right. Go then, nothing but death or the Snake's Precious Jewel can give you back your honor. Arn Flowmane, Guardian of the Island."
Incised below this with something sharp (possibly the point of a dagger), reads, "Evil old fool; death and honour I have found but the Serpent's Eye was yours all along!"
http://ladyrhianwriter.deviantart.com/art/The-Copper-Note-575592188 (the note, as found)
*Pulls out the rope that he acquired in the last dungeon*
Now I really do not want to stick around here and wait for those birds to return. Shall we attempt to climb out of thos tomb?
"Yes," she said quietly. "I suppose we should."
The light of Alora's winged helmet caught her eye, but Aerie quickly averted her gaze. Twist went the knife, burrowed a little deeper.
Looking out toward the distant horizon, she removed her helmet and shook her hair free in the wind. After so much time in the deep, shielded from sun and sky, she reveled in the moment and was deeply happy.
"Hey, Aerie. Are you alright? You look cute but in a 'someone hug me' sort of way as opposed to the kindhearted cuteness you normally have."
Before Aerie can respond Neera hugs Aerie, "I don't really know what your issue is but know we're your friends. You guys don't complain about my Wild Magic turning monsters pink so I'm sure we can help you with whatever you need, right?"
OOC: At this rate I'm never going to romance anyone in BG2 but Aerie. My plan on my Bard run was to romance Neera but AERIE IS SO HUGGABLE.
"Who is going to carry all this stuff I found? There is a backpack full of potions and rope and stuff. And does anyone want to try this sword? It might be a good one. And there is the helmet. Who wants to wear it? It's really shiny."
Alora can't wear the helmet (despite being a paladin) because she has fashioned a strap to the feet of the stuffed cockatrice and is wearing it on her head as a hat.
Noticing Neera's gesture he asks, "Is everything well, Miss Aerie, Miss Neera?"
MY SIDES
HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA
"Sorry, that helmet is just too fancy for me."
OOC: Said the dwarf with a fly-agaric cup on his head.