Scales & Spells

Verrith

"I know the feeling," I said ruefully. "I can't scry. I can't message. I can't do anything not combat helpful. Well, I do corpse clean up nicely but that's still combat'ish."

"I'm fine," I said with a grin. "I didn't fly that much today and I had half a ration- a hole one feeds me for a day. And I made more rice then I usually do, because I know that you need more food then I do. You're bigger and fly and have that nifty breath ability. It takes more food. If I was still hungry, I'd make more. Trust me, I've got lots and lots of this in a variety of spices. And I'm glad you like it, you should try my apple cobbler."

I listened to his response on the bounty seeker and frowned. "Yearly huh? Damn Waterdeep for being so accursed independent. If they'd sent a message to Silverymoon, we'd have had a team out here for free. Not that I plan to tell them this. If they're too dim to get it for free, I'll be happy to help take their gold."

Rolling my shoulders and wing joints, I stretched my arms forward, empty bowl balanced on my lap. "Overall a pretty good day," I mused aloud. "Freed a captive, killed some drow and am deliver another to the bloodthirsty, if dim, folk of Waterdeep. Made some money off the bounty and will make some more off selling the sparklies. And I didn't have anything thrown or sung at me. So a good day overall."
 
"I don't think it's a case of independence so much as not wanting to send troops out on a hunt that could last for gods know how long and even then might not turn up results. Thanks to the attraction of Undermountain, though, the city's almost overflowing with adventurers. And they don't need to worry about paying them because most of the bounty's going to be spent in the city."

After a moment of thought, something else occurred to him. "Why Silverymoon? Neverwinter's closer and could have troops here in no time to help. Although they're still recovering from that plague a few years ago, so they might not have the men to spare."

"Well you've described the nobles at least; most of the people I've met in the city are pretty decent folk," he said after her remarks as he finished the last of his meal. "Thanks for this; if we're not back in Waterdeep by tomorrow night it'll be my turn to cook dinner."
 
Verrith

"Silverymoon, at least my clan, are always up for a good drow hunt. We lost a lot of people to a drow raid and some of us find solace in their blood coating our blades," I told him. "Neverwinter has its own issues these days too. That plague was nasty indeed."

A tiny part of me wondered (worried) at what Marcus would cook but I didn't mention it. "I'm not sure what time we'll make to Waterdeep. I don't travel with horses much, flying is faster."

I flinched, mentally kicking myself. Great, Ver, remind the guy that he can't fly right now, really smooth.
 
"Thankfully the plague didn't reach us up in Conyberry; it's a village about a day or so up-river from Neverwinter. Still got hit with the other problems from then; we couldn't trade with the city, couldn't go near the city either, which cut off a lot of the woods for hunting and after what the Hero of Neverwinter found at Helm's Hold..." he paused for a moment, as though remembering something, before shaking his head. "Anyway, you get where I'm going."

He saw her flinch after saying that she found flight faster than horses. He chuckled a bit at that. "Don't worry about reminding me I'm grounded for a while; unlike you I can't fly much faster than I can walk or run so I use horses occasionally myself, or I just stick to foot-slogging it. Plus, feathered wings are probably better at keeping you in the air for gliding; these things," he jerked a thumb to his remaining wing. "I need to flap a lot more."

He glanced over at the wagon before back to his companion. "You want me to take first watch for the night?"
 
Verrith

"If you like," I said, shrugging. "I only need about four hours of down time. I'm an elf, after all and we don't sleep."

Rising, I pulled a cloak out of my bag and set it to the side, then sat down to slip off my boots. Despite the black color of everything else I wore, my socks were a bright sky blue, my one concession to color. Hunting at night, and especially hunting night time predators, required every bit of stealthy aid I could muster. But a girl's got to have some color and for me it was my socks.

I shrugged out of my chain mail next, leaving the soft, black under padding on. It was obvious where I'd been hit. I could feel it in the tightness of my skin and see the thin slices where the mail itself had been separated by the drow's scimitars. My nose wrinkled as I calculated the cost to repair the mithral chain in Waterdeep where I didn't know any of the local armor smiths.

I looked over to Marcus, noting his eyes on me. "I don't suppose you know any skilled armor smiths in Waterdeep, do you? I took a couple of good nicks today and want to repair them. I can do maintenance on my own gear but fixing it is beyond me."
 
"I know one good one; though the gnome woman who deals with the customers is a bit... presumptuous." he said as he averted his eyes out of respect. The last woman he'd travelled with had labelled him a pervert after he accidentally walked in on her bathing in a river and was quick to hit him in some way if she thought he was trying to get another eye-full (which in her mind was rather frequently).

The glamorous life of an adventurer. he though wryly as he remembered the young beguiler, or more specifically when she'd thrown a Rod of Wonder at him, shrinking him to a twelfth of his normal height and turning him to stone. That hadn't been a pleasant week.
 
Verrith

I noticed him looking away and smiled. "I'm not stripping down any further," I told him, voice light. "Its not comfortable to trance in armor. And while I know how terribly flattering this cotton padding is, I won't hold it against you if you look."

I settled down into a cross-legged position, hands turned palms up on either knee. I fluffed my wings, preening them around me and rolled a kink out of my neck. "See you about four hours or so. Wake me if there's a problem."

With a sigh, I slipped away in my trance, mind clearing itself.
 
"Will do," he replied as she slipped into her trance. Despite his better judgement, he did look over her body quickly to see how much of her figure the chainmail had obscured. His eyes kept drifting to her wings; sure, he'd seen other people with wings before, but they'd all gotten them through arcane rituals or divine favour (or grafted on in the case of one of his targets; that had thoroughly disturbed Marcus at the time), but he'd never seen someone with natural wings that they'd been born with.

Shaking his head, he got back to keeping watch; last thing he needed to happen was to be ambushed the moment he was admiring his companion.

When Verrith came out of her trance, she was greeted by the sight of a large hole in the ground near the fire, with sounds of someone rummaging through a large pile of objects coming from inside. There was a curse in draconic, a loud crash and then a string of extremely colourful draconic phrases before Marcus reverted to speaking in common. "Why the hell do I have a suit of platemail sized for a kobold in here? When did I even get this?!"
 
Verrith

I laughed, rising to my feet gracefully. "You're a traveler of many roads. Of course you pick up random stuff. I have a dire rat flail in one of my bags of holding, though why I have no idea."

In time with my breathing, I went through a series of exercises designed to limber the body and ready the mind for the day. Okay, the remainder of the night in this case but the point was still there. My version included wing stretches as well. You only have to pull a wing muscle once to realize what a bad thing it is.

"How much down time do you need," I asked as I finished. "I'd say take as much as you like but we have a Raid Matron to deliver and I think they'd like her fresh from the caves."
 
"I can understand adventurers like us picking up random crap, but who would even build armour for a kobold that was this well-made?" As he finished speaking, he hefted the suit (and the armour stand it was on) out of the hole, letting it crash to the ground next to it's edge. Whoever had paid for it clearly considered money to be no object as the armour had patterns of gold and silver worked into it with the sort of intricacy normally reserved for royalty (or at least pretentious nobles).

He was climbing up a ladder to get out of the hole when she asked how long he needed to sleep. "I should be right by sunrise." He walked over to the kobold armour as he continued to speak, picking it up and tossing it back into the hole where it landed with a ridiculously loud clatter as it hit the pile of random treasure that was in it. Calling it 'haphazard' would've been a compliment. "As for getting our guest back to the city, that's half the reason I was down there; I've got that much magical crap I thought I'd have something that'd let me use a teleport spell or something. Wasn't until I was down there, though, that I realised it would be a waste of time looking; how on Faerun am I going to find a scroll or something in that?"

He walked over and kicked the ladder back down into the hole (resulting in another gods-awful clatter) before grabbing the edge and pulling it up off the ground. Once he'd finished folding it, he slipped the portable hole back into his pocket. "Just to make sure I get enough rest, I'll use this thing." he said as he pulled a Fortifying Bedroll out of one of his bags.

"If I don't wake up at sunrise, you might need to do a bit to wake me up; I'm something of a heavy-sleeper." As he spoke, he removed his chain shirt, gloves and boots, leaving them on the ground next to the bedroll. "Oh, if you get thirsty then there should be a waterskin in my haversack. There's a pair of decanters of endless water in my backpack; but they might be a bit tricky to use; a gnome I was travelling with at one stage tried to make them into a flying machine. Didn't work. Anyway, night." He'd laid down on the bedroll as he was speaking and it wasn't long before he was asleep, helped by the bedroll's magic.
 
Verrith

"Kobolds need lovin' too, you know," I said with grin as he settled down. "Sleep well."

I passed the hours he slept flowing through my poses, both combat and arcane, swords drawn in a silent dance. Shortly before sunrise, I stirred the fire, adding just enough wood to get the coals I needed to make a large pot of oatmeal over, using water from the endless decanters.

As the first crimson rays sliced through the darkness the food was ready. I knelt next to Marcus' bedroll and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Rise and shine, Silver," I said.
 
Marcus mumbled as Verrith tried to wake him. Had his left wing still been there it would've knocked Verrith away. After about the elf's fourth of fifth try to wake him, the half-dragon finally came to.

"Mornin' V," he said as he sat up and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Gods, I had the strangest dream; I saw a small, green-clad halfling wielding a pair of daggers and fighting off a horde of hobgoblins, before standing atop the pile of corpses and shouting... I can't remember what he shouted. The weird part, though, is that all of the people in it were stick-figures. Hey, that smells good!"

Marcus stood up and stretched his arms above his head as his tail twisted in various motions to work all of its muscles. "Oh, almost forgot," he said, walking over to one of his bags and fetching a small, clear crystal out of it. He took it over to their prisoner and activated it near her, where it started orbiting around the matron's head. "There; does the same job as a ring of sustenance, but without the risk of her removing it for whatever reason. Believe it or not, but some of my bounties have done that before."
 
Verrith

"Well, starvation is preferable to what I've seen some communities due to live prisoners," I said, shuddering with a memory that I promptly shoved back in its box and locked away.

I started digging through my red bag of holding after stuffing my sliced and diced mithral shirt into it. A few moments later I pulled out a breastplate with incredibly strange looking straps, a different undergarmet for it, this one made of ebony silk and a pair of gauntlets with a belt wrapped around them.

"I hate not wearing that chain shirt," I groused, turning away from Marcus and furling my wings, creating an effective dressing screen. "I mean the breastplate works but its a pain."

I pulled off the 3/4 sleeved cotton shirt I wore underneath my mithral and tossed it toward the red bag. From there, I slipped on the halter-top like silk padded shirt, lacing the seam along my left side closed. I couldn't get any kind of standard garment over my head, requiring that everything I wore above my waist be custom fitted and created for me. The breastplate/halter top were from my last set of armor and I kept them around as spares now.

The breast plate went on in similar fashion, its magic settling in over me with a small tingle, making me quieter and more difficult to see, even in the sun bright clearing. Next went on the bracers of dexterity and the belt of ogre strength, to make up for the loss of movement and heavier weight of the breastplate.

Turning around, I scouped up my red bag, shoved the cotton padded shirt into it and tied it to my belt. Over this went my weapon rigging, holding both my swords and a short bow that hung over my left shoulder (hey, I'm an elf, we all carry bows.)

That finished, I sat beside the fire and grabbed a bowl of food, it having cooled enough now that I could eat it. "Are we going to throw a blanket over the Matron or let her eyes feel like they're melting out in the sun today? Death I'm okay with but torture really isn't my cup of tea."
 
Her remark about some prisoners prefering starvation sounded like it hit her a little close to home, and Marcus wasn't about to go prying; he had a few things in his past he didn't want to dwell on as well.

If he'd had skin instead of scales, he might've blushed at the idea of her being topless so close to him. Instead, he focussed more on getting some of the oatmeal for himself.

"I know what you mean; I had to use a brestplate like that myself for a while, back when I first started. Then I got those bracers I was wearing last night and I just found it too restrictive." he blew lightly on the oatmeal, trying to get it cool. He would've used a small bit of his breath ability, but the last time he'd tried that he'd ended up almost freezing it.

"I'll do something to make it more comfortable for her; adamantine doesn't hold heat all that well so we won't need to worry about the metal getting too hot. I'll throw something over her if we need to; depends how the weather is today." After a few minutes of eating, he turned to his companion. "So, what made you decide to start adventuring? If it's something painful, then you don't have to tell me."
 
Verrith

I paused at his question, tilting my head to the side thoughtfully. "I grew up in a small village on the edge of the Moonwood. We had the occasional orc raids, rabid animals, and a mad wizard or two with little to no problems.

"My aunt and I were on a trade mission to Silverymoon right after my 120th birthday," I remembered. "It was a market day, booths set up everywhere, vendors and street performers everywhere. We were armed, we always were except in our own homes. We'd finished trading and had just loaded the last of our wagons when the raid bells began to tole across the city. A young red dragon had apparently made friends with a band of orcs and they were determained to attack the Moonbridge.

"My aunt just looked at me and said, 'Go child, you'll help' so off I flew, blades at the ready, following the other fighters. An hour later I was standing on one of the top arches of the Moonbridge, weaving between the spires, attacking the dragon. A wizard had managed to cast a fire resistance spell on me and another spell on the dragon making me able to hurt it with my own spells. Between me, a visiting adventuring party and half the Silver Guard, we managed to kill the dragon, who was apparently too dumb to realize it was out manned. Its death throws slammed me off my attacking platform and into the bridge itself, shattering my left wing in a dozen places."

I shuddered at the memory of that pain. "The adventuring party's healer fixed it for me and they invited me to join them. I'd been feeling restless for about a year prior to this so accepted their offer. I let my aunt know I'd be back for spring raid season and left with my new friends."

I laughed softly. "We go into so much trouble and right back out of it. Never underestimate the ability of a pair of halfling bards to get you into trouble. Snick and Snap Fastsong, their trouble made worse because they were identical twins. But our leader, Velldandi Cuthe, a cleric of Selune was usually able to talk us out of half of the trouble and our wizard Tixis Othix and I were able to blast our way out the rest of it.

"I was the only elf among them, Vel and Tix being human. The two of them and the twins retired a few years ago. I learned a lot from them, I'm not ashamed to admit it. And I saw a lot more of the world then I would have. Even if sometimes we were pretending to be a traveling circus and I a 'summoned angel' at Tix's beck and call."

I tossed the rest of my bags and gear into the wagon after cleaning up. "I'm ready to go when you are. So how'd you get into all this? I've never met a half dragon before."
 
As she finished her story, Marcus finished putting his armour on (which had a pair of slits for his wings that could be un-buttoned at the bottom, rather than a halter-top design like other winged humanoids used). "Quite a way to get started as an adventurer; killing a red dragon," he said as he slipped his bracers of dexterity on and felt their magic go to work (and showing him just how much his centre of gravity had been thrown off by a lost wing) and started pulling his boots on.

"My start wasn't quite as impressive; I left Conyberry after hearing about Neverwinter's call for heroes back during the plague about four years ago. My foster-father taught me a lot of swordsmanship so I thought I'd be able to lend a hand in some way. While I was at the Neverwinter Academy, I met a wizard who'd had the same idea. The two of us went through a fair bit together, picked up a clumsy elfen cleric and a halfling with some... less-than-reputable talents."

He climbed up onto the wagon as he continued speaking, fastening a strength-boosting belt as he did so (those who'd recognised the belt's effect often wondered what an already ridiculously-strong half-dragon would need with one). He started the wagon moving before continuing his story.

"I left them after some... trouble up in Luskan that I'd rather not go into right now. After that, I made my way south all the way to Baldur's Gate; doing what jobs I could on the way. It was there that I got into the bounty-hunting business; a group of bandits were operating outside of the city and there was a large bounty for stopping them; more if you could provide the leader's head. Did the officials one better and brought the leader back alive, though most of his men weren't so lucky. Since then, I've been making my way up and down the Sword Coast as a mercenary and bounty hunter. Of course, I make sure the contract's legit before taking it; not going to work for anyone if the contract'd piss-off Helm, Tyr or anygod like that. And definitly not Tymora; she's saved my hide more times that I can remember." Literally in the case of that one guy; how'd he think I'd have enough scales for a suit of dragonhide armour?
 
Verrith

"That's why we haven't met before," I realized aloud. "We mostly hung out further west. The Pirate Isle's are beautiful in late summer if you can survive it."

The morning passed by without incident, Marcus and I swapping battle stories.

"... and then I ask, 'why does the black dragon paint its nail,' then Bloodynails pops out of a well and hisses, 'because I can. Now DIE humans!' A blast of acid hits Tix, melting her robes, the twins activate a wand they found and summon a greater demon with a pink fetish and I'm left there, sword in hand trying to attack while not dying with laughter."

A sound caught my ear and I tilted my head toward it, noticing that the birds in the area had grown quiet. It was almost a slithery sound, a rasp of scales over forest undergrowth.

"There's something out there," I whispered to Marcus. "And I think it wants to play."

I hopped down from the wagon's bench, drew my blades and activated my ring.


*ooc: random encounter generator suggested a behir. http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/behir.htm They don't like dragons in their territory so its actually appropriate.*
 
Despite laughing at her story, Marcus noticed the lack of bird sounds and quickly quieted himself. Well, that just showed how well an interruption can kill comedy.

"When we get to Waterdeep, remind me to try and find someone who sells teleport scrolls. Gods know how many times I've wanted one." he remarked as he hopped off the wagon, pulling on a pale blue cloak as he did so and drawing his own longsword; the blade crackling with electricity and shining slightly from a sheen of frost.

"See anything?"

OOC: BTW; has the forum been a bit screwy for you as well tonight? At least twice tonight before I posted the site wouldn't load, was about an hour before it'd load again.
 
Verrith

"I don't see anything yet," I spoke softly, turning to lay a hand on him. He jumped a bit, whether over the invisible hand or the physical contact I didn't know. Magic spread from my hand to him. "There, make your first hit a hard one, its going to contact."

I had enough time to cast the spell True Strike upon myself as well before it burst into onto the road about fifteen feet behind the wagon. A dozen legs skidded to a stop on the road as the enraged behir turned to face us. My right hand blade, a scimitar was enchanted to break through dragon flesh, causing lasting injuries. It work pretty well on other things, but I'd fought too many dragons to not carry a weapon specially designed from them. My left blade was wickedly, magically sharp with flames licking up its silvery length.

The behir turned to study the wagon and Marcus for a moment before roaring in fury, "How dare you intrude in my domain!"






OOC: yeah, its been all weird from my side too. I couldn't get in for quite a bit. I think they were doing server maintenance or something.
 
"Just passin' through, pal; got us a prisoner to drop off in Waterdeep. I'd say more, but knowing you guys, you're probably not listening to a word I'm saying, so let's get down to business." As he finished speaking, he muttered a command word, which was immediatly followed by a crack of air rushing into a sudden vacuum when he disappeared. It was clear something had gone wrong when he didn't come back for several seconds.

OOC: He's not abandoning you; I just had an idea for later and this is the best way I can think of for introducing it.
 
Verrith

I shot a glance to where Marcus had been, jaw dropping. Did he just leave me? No... cause I'll hunt him down and kill him if he did.

Returning to the matter at hand, I cast a spell on me to protect me from the lightning of the behir's breath followed by a line of scorching flame to the creature itself while it peered at the wagon. The creature shrieked in pain, eyes blazing with furry as it shouted, "Invisitlbe dragon, I'm going to kill you. Vile gold dragon who resorts to tricks rather then open fighting!"

Me? A gold? Great- I get the one low intelligence behir in the region.

A mighty arc of lightning flew from its mouth, shattering a wheel of the wagon and bringing the Matron into a full, painful consciousness. She hissed at the beast and cursed me in the same breath.

I rolled my eyes and launched myself into the air, setting up for a strike to the back of the creature's neck...
 
About ten seconds after he disappeared, there was another crack of displaced air as Marcus returned behind the behir and smoothly sliced off two of it's rear legs.

"Remind me to start writing down the command words for my stuff after this." he called out to Verrith as he moved back for another strike. Mumbling another command word (the right one, this time), the cloak on his back wrapped itself around the stump of his wing and fused with his flesh, becoming a replacement wing.
 
Verrith

A swirl of my body sent me into a sharp corkscrew, wings angled to build up speed as I hurled myself toward the behir's head. I caught my left blade just right, sending a burst of fire into the wound, both blades slicing deeply into the creatures neck. It shrieked in pain and fury from both attacks.

As I wrenched my swords out, the beast got a bite in on my left calf. The mail held, not allowing its teeth to penetrate but the blunt trauma of its jaw strength still made me hiss in pain as I pulled free and launched myself back into the air. I knew the creature couldn't see me, the ring was still active. It must have felt where I was while I stood on it. Not that dumb apparently.
 
"Hey, ugly!" Marcus called out as he took to the skies. "Got a new move I've been wanting to try out. You'll be the first one to see it."

Once he was over the behir's head, he stopped flying and merely dropped, though he used his wings to fine-tune where he would fall while holding his sword in both hands over his head. With a loud warcry, he brought the sword down on the behir's neck with such speed that it at first looked like he'd missed.

"The ultimate move of the Iron Heart discipline; Strike of Perfect Clarity." He sheathed his sword as he spoke and when the guard touched the scabbard, the behir's head fell off with a massive spray of blood. As it's body fell to the ground, Marcus released the breath he'd been unconsciously holding as a relieved grin spread across his face. "Holy shit! I can't believe I actually pulled that off!"


OOC: Probably should've mentioned that Marcus'd be pretty high-level. Manoeuvres like Strike of Perfect Clarity and Time Stands Still are only available to very high-level characters, 17th at the least. Reason being is that they're the capstone abilities of that school. It'd take too long to explain in detail, but I can still link you to a torrent for the book they were introduced in, the Tome of Battle, if you want.
 
Verrith

I narrowly escaped being splattered in blood and glared at Marcus as I turned visible. "Warn a gal when you're going to start lopping heads off, okay? Its a messy process."

I landed lightly and went to inspect the creature, wrinkling my nose at the stench. I studied its size for a moment before walking over to the wagon. I reached into one of my bags and pulled out a large, waterproof tarp. "How fast do you think we can skin it?"







OOC: Oh, okay. *levels Verrith up about 7-8 levels* yeah more spells.
 
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