Events+of+Hammer+11-Hammer+12+1374+DR

Highsun Hammer 11
The Elmanessee were convinced the sword was nothing but trouble. Varandiel was more than a little interesting as a sword. Where Gilthien became a razor of frost when one spoke its name, this dripped chiche' green acid. Still, its magic was strong. And there was something to it over and above its aura...or raher, the Elmanessee must have thought. In any case, Marcus let the party know he had to take care of a religous obligation, and took off with the wind. Out of interest in the magic used, or perhaps because she despised the weather, or the Elmanessee, Variska came with.

They asked the party to leave for their own sake...before another elf fancied he could redeem the blade.

Waterdeep, with its incessant rain, wasn't any warmer of a host. But a cab was waiting at the teleport beacon, and it had a measure of magic spelled onto it to keep it warm in the cold winter rain. Lia let the company know she'd need a pair of pearls to identify Varandiel. Her old magic shop was their first stop in the rain-soaked city. The shopkeeper walked up to the front of the shop and straight into a wall of force, ready to greet Lia with a smile.

"Relax. With our friend Merlinzak gone, I don't think anyone besides you and I knows the power of your company." It was Alestare's voice. Lia wasn't thrilled to see him when she turned to see he'd nestled behind where the door opened, puffing on a splendid pipe--Perhaps even one of Elminster's Eversmoking variety.

His clout was running out with Lia, but he managed to convince her to meet him at the Flying Tankard for dinner. He was too much of a Kissinger for Lia's tastes. Still, the party agreed to have dinner.

Evening Hammer 11
His proposal went like this: Since the party is thinking about a vacation, or at least, they have some downtime on their hands for the next pair of tendays (the muster was at the end of Hammer), Alestare just asked they take their vacation in Unther. While they were there, he wanted an intelligence estimate of the state of affairs. There were many factions in the war, and it wasn't clear who to get behind.

The Mulhorandis invaded two years ago. The Returned, pretty much the 4400. An army fighting for Unther, holed up in the mountains and forests, reportedly trained and imbued with power by a millenia-old god. The Free Untherites, A mix of nobles, bourgoise, and anyone that won't stand for Unther under foreign masters. The Church of Tiamat The Banelar.

And many others. Who is the last, best hope for Unther? Just an answer. Maybe the party can find the WMDs.

Midmorning Hammer 12
The party bathed and said goodbye to Western (Faerunian) civilization. Lia worked out the math and concluded, in consultation with Dacker, that Shadow walk was rather slow as a direct movement, and would require two gruelling 24-hour shadow walks. Instead, they would teleport across the axis of their adventures, back to the Council Hills. Lia would have to scribe Shadow Walk besides.

They jumped in two groups. It would take five leaps; Kethiel was off-target on one jump, though not enough to land in Demon-Occupied Territory. In the council hills, it was raining, as if they'd never left. Lia conjured a shelter, and everyone sat down to what would presumably be a long day. Dacker studied the inscriptions on Varandiel, while Kethiel looked on, suspicous of what the sword would do to Dacker's mind. In time, the sword spoke. Out loud. It wanted blood, in partnership with Dacker. Dacker wasn't pleased with its attitude, and it wasn't either--It flitted away with a Shadow Hand maneuver. Very Unpleasant.

Afternoon Hammer 12
Meedill was cold. The caravan he'd gotten this far north with had dispersed, and no one was interested in keeping him on as protector. They promised him the Council Hills were a high-traffic area, and it couldn't be more than a few days before a caravan formed up. He sat, meditating on his hunger, on a hilltop, wondering what insight into his Ki he could gain from eating the roots of the garlic that was quite nearly the only thing to eat. Just then, the great, sweeping shadow of a dragon passed over and perched atop a hill a mile across the valley. Meedill knew that dragons were powerful, and perhaps this one could carry him somewhere...warmer. He walked across the valley with the lightfoot training he'd recieved at the Hin Fist school, and stalked closer. It became obvious the dragon's senses were terribly acute, however...he noticed the Dragon's stare, focused across the valley, diverted in flashes onto him.

"You're too small for a snack, but in quantity halfling meat is delicious," The dragon greeted him. "I'll make you a deal. Give you this ruby," it pulled a pebble-sized gem out of its hide, "If you go to that house," a great hand outstretched a mighty claw, "and find out who is inside.  Give you another when you come back."

It was too good a deal to pass up. The sound of a knock, low on the door of the secure shelter, made Lia and the rest of the company look up from what occupied them. Kethiel had spotted the dragon a while ago, and watched for its approach. Each looked expectantly at another for who would anwer the door. They left Vytorrin with the potato.

"What is your Business?" "I'm Meedill, I was just very cold..." "I am Vytorrin, from Damara. It's very dangerous in these parts, you know it's unwise to travel alone." Meedill Stood in the door, rain coursing on his forehead, until he concluded it was sefe enough to step into the warm house. "I know, but sometimes a young man must strike out on his own," he leapt onto the table in a swift motion and sat, leaning into the fire, "for an adventure, like. Besides, there's this dragon, across the way, I thought you should know." They weren't very receptive, and the girl scribing with the Raichu on the table didn't take well to his lounging. He left for his gem after a short while. Besides Vytorrin, the other's hadn't revealed themselves, and simply described themselves as 'travelers, passing through.'

Meedill returned to the dragon, who seemed to think that the deal was fair enough, but suggested that meedill exchange the gem already in his posession for one that would be worth two. Meedill complied. The dragon had many offers of which gem he could take, and was laconic over the different qualities of gems. The talk went on as they walked across the valley to the secure shelter. At its doorstep, they agreed on a fist-sized amythyst, that the dragon threw and then bathed Meedill in electric breath. Bad form.

The dragon's ability to deal death quickly was outmached by the party's, and quickly had to vacate the shelter. Meedill showed his uncanny martial ability at the 'death of 1,000 cuts' style, just before it departed. It left a burst of electricity as an insult as it departed, and flew swiftly away. Lia subjected it to an Ice Storm and its life ended prematurely...It landed downfield, 600 feet off.

Meedill sprinted to its downed body; Dacker colocated--Every point in space is nanometers apart on the surface of the eleventh dimension, you know--and they made sure the dragon was dead. Kethiel followed next, and in an odd change, Vytorrin arrived next, facilitated by his boots of speed.