The Waning Spire, part 1

From Tenebrae
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Log Info

  • Title: The Waning Spire, part 1
  • Emitter: Subduction
  • Characters: Andelena, Arahel, Ashes, Seyardu
  • Place: Yensaan Sandsea
  • Time: Thursday, March 10, 2022, 2:31 PM
  • Summary: The Waning Spire is an item of Adventurer lore, a tower that is said to appear only occasionally, fully formed overnight- and then disappear again just as mysteriously. The exact details vary depending on the mouth that speaks them. Some say it is a testing ground sent by the gods, others say it is an ancient mages tower lost to time through some esoteric ritual. One thing that the rumors do agree on, though, is that it is a dangerous place full of monsters, traps and treasure. Rumor has it that the spire has appeared again, for the first time in living memory, across the Inmost sea on the northeastern coast of Yensaan. Already, adventurers and merchants alike are flocking to investigate the rumors- the former to test themselves against the spire, and the latter to provide for them- for a share of the spoils, of course.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Andelena     6'0"     180 Lb     Human             Female    Redhead with steel-grey eyes and powerful build.
Arahel       5'7"     120 Lb     Dawn Elf          Male      Llyranesi male with dark hair and an intense gaze.
Ashes        5'11"    177 Lb     Hobgoblin         Female    A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face.
Seyardu      5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Subduction                                                   Eating Continental Shelfs
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Across the Innmost sea from Alexandria lies the Yensaan Sandsea. A vast land of baking desert, littered with ancient ruins, trader caravans and nomadic villages. Far from Veyshan's capital city of Tashraan, the northern coast is regardless home to a number of small towns, often hugging near to the coast where rains are less rare.

It is towards one of these towns that our Adventurers now sail, and they are not alone. Rumors of the fabled Waning Tower finally reappearing have drawn the interest of adventurers, merchants, commoners and nobles alike.

As such, an official vessel of the Explorer's Guild is delivering a number of adventurers to the coastal hamlet on whose outskirts the tower has appeared. Though it is no longer a hamlet in truth- while it may have few permanent structures, tents and stalls have sprouted up nearly as suddenly as the tower itself, spanning from the coast to the foot of the tower.

The journey across the sea has not been an arduous one- the waves have been fairly forgiving, and the winds favorable. The vessel is crowded, though, and there is a definite sense of relief onboard as the ship is moored, gangplanks are deployed, and the sailors begin preparing for the departure of their cargo of adventurers and scholars.

One of the adventurers preparing to depart is an ash coloured Arvek Nar in Mourner's vestments. A dark breastplate, parasol with skulls and bones, and a messenger's satchel which seems older than she is, confirm her professions.

While not exactly fair of skin, and also not a vampire, she still exhibits a dislike of the sun. She has on dark glasses and keeps her shade close. In this way she somewhat resembles a great, black scarab, come to the desert.

Ashlee gazes out across the rail, at the tower and the hamlet of tents.

One of the adventurers on the ship is Arahel. The elf has kept somewhat to himself for most of the trip. Speaking softly with the black raven he travels with he lets his familiar hop about the deck and fly about the rigging as he stays within the shadows on the deck. With an eye on the waters as they sail, he grins once the boat arrives at their destination and starts to moor at the dock.

Dressed in comfortable clothing of muted colors he lifts his leather pack from the deck to slip onto his shoulders. A soft whistle is given to call his raven as he departs, looking to sync with the other adventurers to see where they will be going from here.

A Sunguard of Daeus, as the name implies, must be accustomed to the sun. A tall human woman stands at the railing as well, her white cloak flickering in the sea breeze, as does her long mane of copper-blonde hair that shines brilliantly in the light. Her longsword and shield are strapped to her back on top of her cloak, keeping the cloth from going everywhere in the wind.

"Seems like everyone and their damn dog is here," the Sunguard comments, her steel-grey eyes scanning the crowd. It's not language one would expect of a holy woman, but judging by the way she carries herself, she's no typical holy woman.

Seyardu was growing accustomed to sailing, but that did not mean that she was overly excited by the prospect of being confined to the vessel for some time. By the time they arrived, she was quick to reach the railings, and squint out over the shore while she waited for more people to depart, to lower the risk of tripping anyone up on her way off the gangplank. "People are here for treasure and fame, most likely." The sith-makar sighs. "And someone needs to make sure that no one is injured badly in the process."

The Disembarking process is hindered somewhat by the locals- which does not by any means seem to be their intention- rather, the problem is they are rather /too/ happy to be receiving so many visitors. Merchants, panhandlers, beggars and likely more than a few pickpockets accost the adventurers almost as soon as they set foot on solid earth. Each claiming to have the best wares in Veyshan or two dozen mouths to feed at home. Or both.

Nevertheless, eventually the gangplank begins to clear making way to disembark.

"I'm here for the bodies." Ashes says, also watching the shore, and the locals lining up to meet the visitors. Her head pans back and forth, "There usually is."

She adjusts the shoulder strap and tilts her umbrella and heads down the gangplank and into the crowd, staring past the vendors.

Arahel checks the quiver of arrows attached to his hip and takes his bow in hand. In the air his raven flies and explores without going far, moving in smooth circles overhead. There is a smile and nod of his head to the other adventurers as he falls in step with them. "Should be exciting. This is my first time on an adventure like this." Lifting his gaze towards the sky he sniffs at the air and breaths in the mixed scents of the city and sea.

The Sunguard peers at Seyardu as she speaks. Steel-grey eyes squint... And then a smile creeps onto the Daeusite's face. "Hey, you're one of the Mother's, aren't you? Well, we'll have to work together to keep these people safe. Name's Andelena. Come on, let's get a move on."

Andelena catches the arvek nar's words and a copper-blonde brow rises on her face. "...You one of the Harpist's followers, too, I take it," she says. "Well, look at us. I can do the damage, the Althean can do the healing, and for anyone beyond saving, we've got someone to take care of the bodies." It's a bit of dark humor.

Her eyes fall onto the llyranesi man and she nods. "Just keep close and I'll make sure you get through just fine. Not in the habit of getting people killed unless they do something real stupid."

"I do not doubt there may be bodies, but I pray that it has no reason to come to that." Seyardu sighs, finally with the gangplank clear enough for her to begin slowly making her way across, tail dragging across the makeshift bridge in an attempt to steady her balance further.

She stops to address Andelena, squinting somewhat, and likely gouging the wood of the gangplank slightly with their feet. "Peace on your nest, I am Hearthguard Seyardu of the shaman class, and you are correct, there may be much work to be done. Perhaps to improve the quality of life here while we are at it too."

As the party disembark, they begin to spot the town guard, such as it is- Sellswords of various ilks, and with various equipment, no uniform per se but their armor tents to be emblazoned with the marks of various merchant houses. Seems the powers that be in Veyshan have a vested interest in the tower as well.

As the group press their way through the worst of the crowd and out into the open sky beyond the makeshift dock, the tower is immediately visible- despite the sea of tents between them and it, it rises from the sand- dark and grey in stark contrast to the tans and golds that surround it. It shimmers in the heat rising from the earth. How tall it is, exactly, is hard to discern from this distance. Certainly massive, though, by the way it towers over the horizon.

There is a main throughfare of sorts, which seems well patrolled by the sellswords and well used by adventurers. To either side, various campsites of adventurers, merchants, scholars, historians, the sellsword guards, and other hangers-on.

The adventurers who disembarked first seem to have made their way right towards the tower, and though it is hard to tell through the heat-haze there seems to be quite a congregation forming at its foot.

Ashlee looks over the town guards, not expecting to recognize anyone but cognizant that ex-soldiers spread far and wide and there is a possibility of doing so. Except, not today. Her cavalry boots weren't made for walking and she doesn't want to summon a horse.

The sight of the tower appearing, wavering in the distance, makes her pause. Her hair ruffles and a small screech owl looks with her. "WhooOooOoooOoo?"

"That's the Waning Spire and why we're here." The Mourner replies flatly, answering her owlette. She glances around at the group with her, staring at the Dawn Elf.

Arahel gives Andelena a smile at her words then nods to the rest of the group that departs the ship. "I'll do my best not to be stupid." Chuckling a bit he offers a wave of his free hand and adds, "I'm Arahel." Pointing to the raven that flies overhead he introduces his familiar, "That's Croaker." With that done he falls in with the group, looking to Ashlee and nodding in understanding.

GAME: Ashes rolls perception: (18)+4: 22
GAME: Ashes rolls knowledge/religion: (6)+20: 26

Andelena looks up to the tower in the distance for a brief moment. "Well, shit. If that isn't standing tall and mighty like the biggest fuckin' prick in the land," she says, visibly impressed.

She returns her attention to the group for the moment, making sure that no pickpockets come after anyone in the group. "Should we get closer to that thing or what? If we can, anyway. Looks like there's a massive audience over there."

GAME: Seyardu rolls knowledge/history: (3)+5: 8

"Perhaps you should all ask around before rushing off to the tower unprepared." Seyardu offers, before the adventurers get too far, and she sighs, having reached the ground herself. "I do hope that it is not overly dangerous to do so. A giant tower appearing out of nowhere, the last time this one dealt with even a small one, it was filled with fiends. And even if this one has more history to it, all I am aware of is people having documented the design in the past."

"So, we should probably get a better understanding of what this entails."

"The Church of Commerce," Ashlee says, looking around. Ironically, she points out a few tables, here and there. Some of the market stalls sell idols. Keepsakes and talismans representing various members of the Eidelon courts - those of the twilight court, and by extension Vardama, are more common than most, but almost everyone is represented among the wares. "You can buy your god."

Come to speak of it, there are a couple interesting representations of Vardama. Perhaps there's a good Feiu of the Tears, or one that reminds her of the Grey Halls. On the way back, she'll check on the way back.

"I'm sure there's a guide if we call for one." The Mourner remarks. Everyone is jumping at the opportunity to sell something. "Is there a staging area?"

There are a handful of Arveks and other goblinoids amongst the guards, as well as humans, half and full-sil individuals, a handful of sith-makar, at least one Elgarin and several Khazadi and Lucht. They seem a very cosmopolitan lot, with little in common aside from occupation and employers. While the pickpockets and beggards are mostly tolerated as a nuisance, like flies in the summer, they keep a keen eye on market stalls with more valuable goods- like arms and armor, or alchemical trinkets- and respond promptly to thefts of valuable stock.

The merchants are offering not only to sell their wares- the best prices for the best quality, assure each of them- but many also offer to purchase finds made by the adventurers in the tower ahead, competing with one another to offer the 'best' rates.

Having apparently overheard Ashlee say the word 'Guide' a young half-sil boy, looking to still be in his teens, and baring the dusky skin and dark eyes of a local falls into step with her. "There is, it is just ahead. But you would be served well to avoid it for now. The Princes are taking their tithe." he offers- for free, even.

Princes. That explains a few things. The Mourner looks at the half-sil.

"WhooOoooOoooo?" The owl on her shoulder warbles.

"I'm Ashlee Ciaradh," she answers her owl while she stares at the boy. Waiting for an answer. "These are my friends."

"This is our guide." She points back at the half-sil. "Which Princes?"

Arahel whistles softly to call Croaker to his outstretched arm. The raven flaps down and lands first on the offered arm before hopping up to stand on the elf's shoulder. Once the familiar is comfortably settled in, he looks at the guide and nods before looking off in the direction of the Princes.

"Princes? Shit, you almost had me thinking I was back in Selentia," Andelena says. "Who are are these guys? Anyone we need to keep tabs on? Local customs of respect and whatnot? Last thing we really want to do is accidentally piss off someone important when we're far from home."

"Well, it seems all sorts have made their way here." Seyardu sighs. Only to blink, and look around until she finds the guide in question. and sigh again at the explanation. "Different place, same nobles who think they can get away with anything they feel." The cleric growls. "But ah, yes, if you could tell us more about this place, it would be greatly appreciated."

"Zahir" offers the youth, again for free, at the expectant look from Ashlee. However, when pressed for further information, he becomes more coy. "I would not mind explaining a thing or two, but I have to work... but if you could offer a silver piece or two I could spend some time to show you around." he answers.

However, as they talk about actual royalty, nobility and respect he can't help but chuckle. "They are princes by title, not by blood." he says then. "Zubnik of the North Sandsea Consortium and Ughal of Ughal and Sons Mercantile." he says, though after volunteering that, he does hold out his hand for expected payment.

"Zaheir? Zahir." Ashlee says, seemingly the same word with a varied pronunciation. She nods once. Her lips move. Reaching into her satchel she brings out a handful of silver pieces, and a very large house centipede on the back of her hand. The centipede runs up the sleeve of her shirt.

She doesn't react to that. She hands over the coins. "A few more things."

"Information's worth its weight in gold," Andelena concurs. "Don't mind paying for a guide so long as the info's good."

She looks briefly at Croaker the raven on Arahel's shoulder and scratches her head thoughtfully. "Just hope that bird doesn't poop on me," she murmurs.

Arahel listens to Zahir as the guide provides the party with more information. Nodding his head he reaches into a pocket hidden within his shirt to pull free a silver coin. He can't help but laugh as he replies softly to Andelena, "Don't worry, he won't do that." Holding out the coin in an offering of payment he gives the guide a smile of thanks.

"Doesn't matter if they're noble in blood or not, they're using it as an excuse to be superior." Seyardu shrugs, pulling out a few silver pieces of her own to offer as well. "So, plenty of people have their ideas of what to do with this place. What should actually be done is still up to interpretation."

Their guide pockets the coins, and then thumbs off the throughfare and begins leading the way down between the market stalls and tents. At some point, he is suddenly carrying an apple, which he takes a bite out of. Where he procured it is anyone's guess. "They are Trade Princes both. Zubnik deals in a bit of everything, bulk goods, artifacts, slaves, pelts and hides, minerals- a true generalist. Ughal specializes in supplying rare and unusual animal and monster parts- and sometimes whole live monsters- for alchemists, mostly in Charn. Both had a stake here, and since neither could buy off or force out the other, they have agreed to a partnership. They take tithes from merchants and mercenaries that are set up here, and charge a security to enter the tower. But it has more than one door, you se?" he offers as he continues to duck and weave his way between the tents.

Ashlee folds up her parasol and slides it into her satchet. The long umbrella vanishes into the much smaller bag, confirming its magic properties. In it's place, the Mourner puts a dark shawl over her head, enhancing her funerary aspects. "Slaves, animals and monster parts."

Perhaps she was sent here for a reason.

"Underground, flying in?" She follows the guide. The apple reminds her she's hungry, and also that she wasn't eating much during the ride over. Just in case. Her stomach growls. She sniffs, something meat.

Ashlee's inner goblinoid nature is coming out and she wants the weirdest thing on a stick she can see.

"What is it with nobles and princes and their fascination with Charn and Slavery?" The cleric growls. "At this rate, I'm going to meet some nobles with no ulterior motives or lack of morality, and still question what they're trying to hide."

"Well, it sounds like the kind of people I would rather avoid supporting if at all possible. Less into their pockets is less control they can exert on others."

"Yeah, I don't know, Seyardu--nobles are pretty fucking depraved people from time to time. You have everything in the world at your feet so you decide, 'Why not torture some poor people? Why not /own/ a person?' Rat bastards. There's just something about owning a tract of land and having too much coin that dissolves morals and sense like nothing else." Andelena finds herself ranting in reaction to Seyardu.

She keeps her eyes out as the group walks through the market. There is no shame in being wary in new lands and new places--as the alternative is sometimes more than one's bargained for.

Arahel stays quiet while they travel along, led by their guide. Croaker keeps an eye out for the both of them, the raven scanning their surroundings.

"Ah, it is no wonder you are all adventurers." their guide says as he leads the way along, "If you make the problems of others your own problems wherever you go." he says with an amused smile. However, they finally reach where he had been leading them. Away from the main Throughfare, there is a circle of stones- seemingly cast from the same dull granite of the tower itself. And entirely out of place surrounded by sand and sandstone. "Here it is, the back door, so to speak." he says, gesturing towards it. "It appeared at the same time as the tower. If you touch the stones, it will take you inside. I think." he explains.

He pauses a moment, before continuing, "Actually, It is more that I hope, rather than I think. My brother touched one of them, you see. This one, over here. And we have not seen him since."

"Okay." Ashlee says, staring at the stone circle. She looks beyond it to the matching Tower, then down to the surrounding sand. She's seeking dark stains, or scorch marks. Nothing leaps out. She holds out her hand to the Guide, "Give me something so we can find you if we find your brother."

Her thoughts wander while she waits. Does she make the problems of others, her own? She's helped out a few people, most ghosts, because she was there and she could. It never struck her as something she sought, more a thing she fell into. Because it had to be done.

"I'm ready when you are." The mourner tells the others. Maybe she should have grabbed a statue on the way. They might be sold out when they get back.

If they get back.

"Problems dealing with slaves and Charn are my problems." Seyardu sighs. "It is how things are, and anything which can take both down slightly are valid."

"So, your brother was sent in there. We do not know how they work or where they go? Then we would need to be incredibly careful. There is no knowing what would be on the other side. And we need to make sure we can leave if it only goes one way."

"But we can not delay too much if their brother is already in there. Take some time to investigate the pillar, then we can enter."

Andelena takes a look at their guide and raises a brow for a long moment, steel-grey eyes full of a sudden compassionate worry. "You mean your brother has gone missing and you haven't heard from him since he touched the stones. That's... Well, that's worrying. And sorry to say it, man, but I do kind of make other people's problems my own."

She looks to the rest of the group, at Ashlee in particular as she speaks. "Yeah. I'm ready, too. Let's investigate, like Seyardu's saying, though."

The Daeusite huffs as she looks back at the stones. "Lest we get lost and never found, too."

Ghoulish cp line.png