Session+106

**09-16-2017** **Celebration on the Plane of War**

As the many companions were mingling at the celebration, Thorn could be found in his own corner... sorting through the bags of gold they had brought from the dragon horde. It took him quite some time to sort through and assess all of the gems.

At the conclusion between gold and gems, he estimated their haul was worth 200,000 gold pieces or about 33, 333 gold each. There were also several magic items. (Erevin) Ring of Spell Storing (holds up to 5 levels worth of spells) (Mali) Greater Metamagic Rod, Burning (acid and fire spells, 2nd round target takes 2x level of spell in damage... example fireball is 3rd level, so target would take 6 fire damage on round 2) (Thorn) Shadowform Belt (+6 dex plus incorporeal 10 rounds/day) (Wren) took Thorn's old +4 dex +4 con belt (Posy) Swordmasters's Blindfold  (Erevin) Boots of Teleportation (teleport 3xday) (Erevin) Gauntlets of Weaponmaster (stores up to 10 weapons. free action to store, swift to retrieve. heroism 3xday) (Posy) Halo of Menace (20' radius - hostile creatures -2 attack rolls, saving throws, and AC. Will save DC20 negates) (Posy) Book of Gainful Exercise (+2 Str) (Azarius) Book of Leadership and Influence (+2 Cha)

At the celebration, people were starting to gather at the tables with platters of food. The food varied widely for the races of demons, devils, angels, modrons, humans, elves from various spheres, dwarves etc... The modrons ate metal looking cubes and drank from geometrically shaped glasses. Diabolic blood mead, ale, and hearty red meat on the bone... Angelic ambrosia... and all sorts of different foods they had never had before.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"> Wren placed a bottle of angelic ambrosia and sweet red elven wine into her haversack to try at a later time, but sampled several of the food dishes. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">An sultry feminine voice came from behind her, "You should eat more of the venison... You are eating for three." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Thoughts of denial crossed the young witch's mind, but instead she turned to raise an eyebrow at the newcomer, "That's a rather interesting skill that you have." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">A beautiful dark haired elven woman scantily dressed in gossamer black was smiling at her, "I have a lot of experience and I recognize the signs." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren smiled and nodded, "I'll be sure to eat plenty... Would you like to sit with us?" She gestured to a seat next to her. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Yes, forgive me for being rude... My name is Raven Hawksong," she introduced herself as she took her seat.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">There was something familiar about the woman, but Wren couldn't place her. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Raven laughed softly, "You don't recognize me, do you?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I'm afraid I've met so many people today... that sadly, no... I'm not sure who you are. You have my mother's name though," Wren answered. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">The elder elven woman smiled, "Oh, and who is your mother?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">" Raven Dreamspinner ," the younger witch replied. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Dreamspinner... Really? That's interesting. Such a small family," Raven answered, nodding, "How fairs the nest?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Well currently it's in my sister's hands, so... it's anyone's guess at this point," Wren shook her head. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Is there some issue with your sister?" the elder elven woman raised an eyebrow. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">" Crowe ... makes different choices than some," Wren answered thoughtfully, "She's rather promiscuous... even more so than our mother." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I don't judge on these matters," Raven nodded casually, "but you said that she is in charge... in lieu of yourself?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Yes, as I am here," Wren nodded. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"So you are the new head of the nest?" Raven asked. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren frowned, "Hopefully it's a temporary title... My mother is off adventuring and has asked me to look after it... but I'm currently trying to save the world... so my sister is now taking care of it." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Hmm that is interesting," Lady Hawksong nodded. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Have you been to the nest?" Wren asked. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I have not been to the nest in quite some time," Raven responded thoughtfully, very amused by the conversation.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"So if you don't mind my asking, who are you?" Wren tilted her head, still unable to place the woman. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Your mother must not have taught you very well," Raven smiled, "I am the first Raven." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Really?" Wren looked surprised, "I'm afraid my mother holds secrets like no other. I didn't even know that there were multiple Ravens..." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"It is a traditional name... some take it and some don't. We have always been called Raven's Nest," the elder elven woman explained. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"So... was Peregrine your daughter?" Wren tilted her head. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Peregrine was one of my granddaughters from my youngest daughter," Raven answered. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren nodded, "So you are my great great grandmother then... so was Hawksong my family's original last name?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I took the name from my poor departed husband," Raven answered as she glanced around, "who apparently is still avoiding me." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">A witch who had been married... Wren found this very interesting and nodded again, "Really? What did you do to him?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I did everything he wanted and more," Raven answered with a wink. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren laughed.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">The two continued their conversation merrily as Raven asked about the current state of the nest and the girls who were in it... with a particular interest in Crowe - Wren's elder sister. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren was happy to tell her several stories, answer questions, and talk about their family. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"So do you have good relations with this new Myth Coramanth then?" Raven asked. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Yes, my mother pledged our allegiance to Lady Lionspaw a couple of decades ago," Wren nodded and gestured to where Erevin was sitting further down the table, "and I am friends with her son."

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh... he's handsome," Raven looked over the elven prince with interest, "I don't see anyone on his arm." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"She's probably on his hip," Wren laughed, thinking of Shri in the moonblade. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"So you're saying... he's available?" Raven glanced back at Wren before returning her gaze to the elven woodsman. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren laughed, "He's engaged... not married yet... but engaged." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Delicious," Raven nodded. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"You would have to take that up with Shri..." Wren warned. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"He does look like he has a lot of stamina... could probably take us both," Raven suggested. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wren shrugged, "He is mythic..."

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"> "Well I should like to speak with you later after the feast... I'd like to test the metal of my decedent," Raven offered. Wren nodded, "Of course, I look forward to it." The young witch went on to introduce her to all of her companions who had now settled down near to her, eating their own fine selections and partaking in the various drinks. The others nodded in greeting to the sultry elven woman sitting among them. "At the behest of Corellion and the Seldarine, I have joined the battle," Raven explained. "Here on the Plane of War," Wren nodded, intrigued. "Good on you," Erevin nodded to her. "Indeed, I have brought my magical talents to the front lines where I have met the most interesting people," Raven nodded, shifting in her seat to settle a more proper gaze over the elven prince, "Including you... Mister... Erevin, is it?" "Prince Lionspaw," Erevin extended his arm across the table. Raven took his arm and embraced it with her own, "I hear that the Nest and your people are good allies. That warms my heart to hear." "Absolutely," the elven woodsman confirmed, "There was a corrupt druid in the woods and it was much safer for the nest to move within the protection of the city's mythal." "Really?" Raven moved around to sit next to Erevin, "Do tell me more."

An elder male voice with a tone of high society broke over their conversation, "Give the young prince a break, witch. He's just here to eat and converse." "There are many types of language," Mali easily stepped into the conversation as she refilled her plate. Raven smiled slyly, nodding to the young red haired halfling, "I am a rather cunning linguist." The others had glanced up to see an elder elf approaching the table, clear lines of age told of his long years in the mortal realm. "Don't be a fuddy duddy, Ethlando. You always know how to rain on a nice girl's parade," Raven waved her hand dismissively. "Well since you are neither nice nor a girl, I don't think I have much to worry about," the elder elf came to a halt next to their table.

The name Ethlando stuck an old memory of the high mage who had lived four millenia ago... one of the highest of the elven mages who had participated in the crown wars, and had helped to unify five clans of elven people to make Cormanth. He was known to have been the creator of the Moonblades... and later the Elf Blades. Surely this surly man wasn't the same Ethlando...

Wren raised an eyebrow at Raven, "Is //this// your husband?" "Oh heavens no," Raven laughed. "I thought I smelled the whiff of familiar magic, and I came to investigate," Ethlando explained to the table before rolling his eyes at Raven, "And unfortunately //you// had to be here." "Charming as ever," the sultry elder witch smiled. The high mage sat down on the other side of Erevin, putting a few fruits down delicately on his plate. "Pay no mind to the old man... my charms have no effect on him," Raven leaned across the table to Wren, and whispered loudly, "I doubt it works anymore." Unable to help herself, Wren laughed with delight, "I'm sure he is rich with wisdom." "That's about all he has left," Raven mumbled.

"It is good to meet you," Ethalndo nodded to Erevin, "I had heard from some of the elves of Correllion's court that you had done him a great service recently." "Ah," Erevin nodded, "We managed to blacken the eye of Grumish for him." "Yes, the high mage nodded, "Tales have spread among The People, even here... Part of the reason that Corellion's forces were so thin in the first place is that they were here, helping in the War of the Heavens." Erevin nodded, "That is good to hear." "And there are some here who perform some purpose, I'm sure." Ethlando glanced toward Raven while speaking to Erevin, "but I could not help but feel the rather familiar magic coming from you, young prince." Erevin glanced back, calling Shri over to join him.

As the young drow sauntered toward his table, the high mage tilted his head quizzically as he felt the presence of the moonblade magic around her, "Well that isn't right... Forgive me, she's quite lovely... but what have you done to my moonblade?" Erevin gently swept the drow in beside him, telling the story of how she had perished and their goddess had saved her by attaching her to the blade. "Ugh, meddlesome goddess!" Ethlando grumbled. Shri gasped with offense, touching her holy symbol of Eilistraee. "I mean no offense... she's quite lovely, but she understands little of my work," Ethlando explained, "That binding is so... inelegant. It's not what I had intended." He grumbled with frustration.

"Can you fix it?" Erevin asked. "Yes, I could remove her from the blade and separate them... it would take some time," he answered. "Would it kill her?" Erevin inquired further. "No, it will probably hurt... but it would not kill her," Ethlando shook his head. Erevin frowned, still uncertain, "It would not diminish her in any way?" "Her spirit would be separated from the blade. If she were to perish... her soul would pass on to Arvandor like normal rather than to the blade," the high mage explained. Erevin nodded, "As eloquent as the story is of having my bride-to-be as my sword... I'm sure she would appreciate not being the sword." He slipped an arm around the drow woman, "Is this so?" Shri nodded. "Would we need a body to put her into?" the elven prince asked. "No, I will simply pull the blade out of her," Ethlando answered. Erevin looked at him with concern, "What?"

"The blade is inside her currently... I will pull it out," the high mage explained with little tolerance. "So you're just going to reach into her chest, grasp the blade, and pull it out," Mali nodded. "Your little..." Ethlando nodded approvingly, stopping in mid-sentence as he looked over the young druidess with interest, "What are you?" "She's a halfling," Wren answered. "A halfling," Ethlando nodded, but before he could go on... Azarius  added, "She's a unicorn slayer." "Unicorn sl ... Why would you kill such lovely creatures?!" Ethlando looked shocked. "People are confused about who I am... it's okay," Mali shrugged. Ethlando shrugged and nodded, "Well she has the right of it. I will just reach right in and pull it out. It may cause some discomfort..." Mali laughed, fully imagining that it would likely be a lot more painful than 'discomfort'.

"It would take some time, but I could certainly do that for you," Ethlando nodded to Erevin, "It would make //me// feel a lot better. Certainly someone should not be bound to the blade unless they chose that." "Shri?" Erevin turned to the young drow, "What do you think?" "Certainly at the time... it saved my life, but I think I would rather be separate so that I could be with you more often," she answered. Erevin nodded, turning back to the mage, "What do we need to do?" "We will wait until after the feast. I'll make some preparations then and the two of you should come and see me," Ethlando answered, "But please, tell me about The People... I know only what the spirits of our people have told me when they pass on. I have heard that Cormanth has broken apart, come back together again, and broken apart again sometimes... part of the city disappeared and reappeared in a different place where you formed Myth Coramanth? The People who have passed on from your city have spoke glowingly of your mother." Erevin began to tell him more of the current goings on of the elven people.

He told him about the demon fae in the Cormanthor forest, how Myth Coramanth was flourishing, and how Myth Drannor was rebuilding. "What is the name of the leader of this rebuilding city?" Ethlando asked. "Illsevele Miritar, a fine elven woman who led the battle to retake the city from the demons," Erevin answered. Ethlando nodded approvingly, "And what of my Elf Blades? Does your mother or this Illsevele wield the ruling blade?" "Queen Miritar does," Erevin nodded, "She bears the Kingsword I believe it is called." The high mage nodded, inquiring further, "And what of the Warblade and the Artblade?" "They are lost to time," Erevin answered, shaking his head. "That is depressing," Ethlando sighed, "I worked so hard on them." "Believe me, there are those who seek them," Erevin assured him, "There are rumors that the Ashblade has resurfaced." Ethlando seemed pleased as he nodded, "And what of the Moonblades? I see that yours is a Starim blade... not a Lionspaw." "My mother wields the Lionspawn blade," Erevin nodded, "The Starim lineage died out without a proper heir. I happened upon it when I stopped some grave robbers. The baelnorn who guarded over it found me fitting." "It is good then that it carries on," the mage nodded. "It has served me well," Erevin smiled. Erevin introduced the high mage to the rest of his companions. Ethlando snorted derisively toward Wren, obviously associating the young witch with Raven.

Posy was enjoying multiple plates heaped with a little bit of everything since she had heard from her companions about how the flavor of food changes when they returned to the mortal world. A crowd of barbarians were slowly gathering around her, Uther, Ursus , and Uthgart ... pulling tables closer to join them. A roar of "A toast to Posy, the Littlest Bear, Hero of the Red Bear Clan!" came washing out from their growing more rowdy gathering. Giant mugs, some of them made from skulls, were tipped back as several chanted on! "Are you sure you can handle that?!" a couple of barbarians teased Uther, gesturing toward the young gnome heroin. Another came up to tug open his loincloth, cheering out to the crowd in approval! "You fit all of that in there?!" the barbarian cheered in surprise, "She is indeed mighty!" More drinks were had until a giant of a man came over to join them, carrying an enormous barrel over his shoulder.

He dropped the barrel on the ground and sat upon it, wearing a headdress that looked like a massive red bear, "I heard that there was a drinking contest going on over here? I'll suck Tempus's teat before I let any daughter of mine out drink me." Posy raised her mug, accepting his challenge. "I am Bjorn, the Red Bear," he introduced himself, "Let us drink, Littlest Bear." "I'll try to keep up," she nodded with a wink. He tapped the barrel to pour out a reddish gold liquid. "That might be good," Erevin looked on with interest, "I might need a mug." Mali's ear twitched toward him, "I brought a spare." She pulled out an extra mug from her pack, filling it up for her companion. Bjorn's flesh looked like a roadmap of scars and Uther, Ursus, and Uthgarte looked on with awe as they recognized the man from many legendary tales among their clan. Posy happily introduced them as her husband, brother-in-law, and father-in-law. "It is good to meet my children, all of you!" Bjorn welcomed them with joint popping embraces of warmth and strength, "You should join our drinking contest. Your friends too!"

Posy waved over her companions. "You and Mali would cheat," Wren nudged the quiet elven warrior next to her. "Only dragons cheat," Bjorn called out over the roar of the crowd. Thorn and Mali agreed heartily. "Hey! Not all dragons cheat!" Wren called back. "Oh to ride that," Raven purred as she looked on at the enormous man sitting atop the barrel. Mali downed a mug happily as she walked a mug of the spicy mead over to Erevin. He set down his glass of ambrosia, and nodded his thanks to the red-haired halfling as he took a gulp and cheered on the barbarians. Bjorn was impressed as Posy held her own despite her small size.

A man dressed in robes and wearing a golden mask approached their table to sit beside Azarius, "I see you are not partaking in any of the ale... and you seem fairly quiet." He removed his mask, setting it down. Azarius nodded to him in greeting, "I don't really need to eat or drink... and I've been to enough of these celebrations to know that something almost always go awry... so I prefer to be vigilant." "Probably a good call. After the barbarians down a few dozen of those, things do tend to get violent," the newcomer nodded in agreement. "i can teleport myself from here with due haste, along with innocent bystanders if needs be," Azarius replied confidently. The man seemed very familiar to the mage, but Azarius just couldn't place him. "You are a sorcerer then?" the newcomer nodded approvingly to the young nobleman. "Indeed," Azarius nodded. "I see that you are wearing the Chaat family crest," the newcomer gestured to the emblem worn as a clasp at Azarius's throat, "How is the family?" The charismatic nobleman nodded, "I've been working to put things right." "Still in the shipping business?" the inquiring gentleman asked. "Yes, and doing well," Azarius assured him. "Excellent! Still dealing with the curse?" he asked. Azarius raised an eyebrow, "Resolving it... a piece at a time. The servants of Ghandahaur are relentless in their pursuits... but thus far we have handled all that has been thrown at us." "That is good to hear. I can never forgive myself for bringing that curse down upon our family," he nodded. Paintings of people that hung in the wall of his family's estate flipped through Azarius's mind, coming to rest upon a similar face to the one in front of him... this was the man who had found the temple beneath the sea... Ambrozias Chaat. Azarius sat quiet for a moment, and nodded, "It has been a trial... but we are persevering."

"I hope that my folly has given wisdom to you and the rest of our family... All that glitters.. even though it may be gold... isn't necessarily good," Ambrozias encouraged him. "Many lessons have been learned," Azarius nodded, "And I'm sure there are many more to come." "Gold is very tempting for some," his ancestral uncle glanced over to where Thorn was still counting and sorting gold and gems, "Is that your servant?" "In a manner of speaking," Azarius smiled. "You pay him very well," Ambrozias nodded, "Generosity is a good way to work against the curse." The young mage considered the wise advice... he couldn't remember the last time he gave some of his wealth away. The latest his ancestor had heard was somewhere during Azarius's grandparents time when the last of his family members had passed on. Azarius nodded, telling him the tale of the family members he had met in the depths of the sea... long ago fallen to be servants of the tentacled god of evil. "There have been very few who have escaped his influence," Ambrozias nodded, "So I know very little of how our family is. I am glad that you have put them to rest." Azarius went on to tell him several stories of his family and his sister. Ambrozias seemed disappointed that neither of them were married or had any children yet, "You are a handsome man... Surely you must be beating women off of your door. What are you waiting for?" "Well currently there are parts of my anatomy that prevent me from creating," Azarius answered. "There are some fine healers in this camp. Surely they could fix anything that doesn't work," his ancestral uncle assured him. "It's not so much damaged as it is... rearranged," the young mage tried to explain. "Ah... so the curse of Ghandahaur has effected you more strongly," Ambrozias nodded with a sigh. One of the dark black and purple tentacles came out from the mage's robes in demonstration. "Whoa!" Thorn exclaimed as the tentacle coiled past some of the gold before Azarius tucked it back in. No matter how many times he had seen it... the young halfling still found it a little unsettling. He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed this time.

"Well that has possibilities," Raven looked over, more interested in the charismatic nobleman. Wren laughed, "You would love my sister... I prefer the half green dragon myself." She caressed Kale's back. "This one does have your smell on him," Raven nodded toward Kale, "Is he the father then?" "There wouldn't be any other," Wren assured her. The young witch's companions glanced over taking note of their conversation. It wasn't exactly how she hoped her friends would find out... but there was no denying it now. The clink of gold paused as Thorn stared with surprise. Had he heard what he thought he had heard? "Yay! Have a drink for Wren!" Posy cheered, breaking the silence and continuing to clink mugs with the barbarians and gulp down the spicy mead. "More little Kales in the world... just what the world needs," Thorn grumbled to himself as he went back to counting and sorting, "Of course maybe it'll be more like Kale's sister..."

Erevin walked over with two glasses of the best elven wine to share with Kale in congratulations. The strong elven warrior looked a little sheepish, but accepted the glass with thanks. Noticing that Kale wasn't paying him any attention, Thorn pulled out the sack he had kept from the race he had participated in with Kale's sister. The young halfling scoundrel held it to his face and breathed in deeply. Wren laughed, but sat back, not bothering to step between the two this time. If Thorn wanted to poke the dragon, he was on his own. Kale was about to break a mug over Thorn's head when everyone turned to the sound of rushing feet along the ground! Arms wrapped around Wren as the woman to the running feet slammed into the young witch! A familiar feminine voice exclaimed with glee, "Wren! You're with child?! That's wonderful!" The young witch turned to see who was grabbing her, only to recognize Yuki with large pink feathered wings. Her smile softened at the sight of her old friend, a mixture of happiness and sadness soaking into her, "Yuki... I didn't think I would ever see you again." It hadn't been more than a year that their priestess of Sune had been called to the Heavens, but Wren, herself, had grown and changed much in that short time.

A gentleman who seemed like a peculiar mixture of Axton and Harbinger moved up to join them, having followed Yuki at a slower pace. He had six wings... the three on the right were white, and the three on the left were black. Wren looked him over curiously for a moment before turning back to the pink-winged priestess, "Yuki... you put your two boyfriends together." "I know! Isn't it great?!" Yuki exclaimed happily. "I... didn't know you could do that... how fascinating," Wren nodded. "He was really always the same person... so it wasn't that hard to put him together," Yuki explained, "I guess Shar and Sune had a pow-wow and decided that they could help the war better if the two were restored together." "Really?" Wren turned back to look over the Axton Harbinger figure once again, "What do you call him now? Axtinger? Harbington?" "I still call him Axton... he's more Axton than Harbinger," Yuki answered. "Only when I want to be," Axton added, making a kissing gesture toward Wren when Yuki wasn't looking. One that spoke of a time when Harbinger had stolen a kiss and her memory from her. "Nice to see you again... Axton," Wren's gold eyes darkened slightly as she grumbed, "The Plane of War... I'm sure accidents happen here all the time." "We have to celebrate your impending family," Yuki said excitedly. Wren laid a soft hand over her own abdomen, "They're not here yet." "They're!" Posy echoed, taking note of more than one, as she clinked her mug for a second round. "That's why I said impending," Yuki insisted.

Yuki and Axton sat down among them, asking for tales of the party's adventures since they last seen them. She told them how Sune and the other Faerunian gods and goddesses had contributed to the war. Originally there was a conflict in the majority of the Heavens, but they had managed to funnel most of the fighting here on the Plane of War. "Oh I'm sure Tempus hates that," Erevin commented with sarcasm. "No, actually he seems to like it," Yuki replied cheerfully. Erevin smiled and nodded, "I'm sure it gives him more power." Their once priestess pressed her lips together and then spoke a little quieter, "The other gods are a little worried about that." Wren and Erevin nodded, the young witch adding, "He has been influencing the world all over. Wars have broke out all over the place." Yuki frowned, "Unfortunately my lady Sune has suffered, there is not nearly as much room for peace and love in the world right now." "There is plenty of love still in the world, Yuki. Posy and Uther got married," Wren nodded toward the barbarian pair. "They did?!" Yuki got up and ran to hug the young gnome woman, her pink wings bouncing, "Oh you smell like ale!" Posy offered her a mug of the reddish golden liquid. Yuki took one sip of the mug, her cheeks becoming instantly pink, "Whew! Too hot!"

She passed the mug to Axton as she sat back down with the group, "But ever since then, even the demons and the devils have contributed." Erevin nodded, gesturing down a couple of tables where the hell dwelling races were eating and doing celebrating of their own. "Yes, they're ugly and they stink," the pink winged once priestess replied matter of factly before continuing, "We're doing our best. We've been fighting a long time... I'm not really privy to the war plans of Tempus or the other gods, but more and more of Ghandahaur's creatures are slipping by into the mortal realm." "Well that wont do," Erevin shook his head. "What can we do about that?" Azarius asked. "Well you are close to fulfilling your destiny," Yuki answered, "You must take the fight to him. Then hopefully you will deal him a great blow or at least distract him until his sphere passes us by and his influence wanes. I know you guys can do it!" "We appreciate your vote of confidence. We certainly intend to win," Wren nodded. "I just wish that I could be there to help," the pink winged daughter of Sune sighed. "You are serving a higher purpose now," Erevin assured her. Yuki nodded, "I have spoken to my mother, Sune, and she has said that I could offer you a boon on her behalf." "A boon from Sune," Erevin chuckled, amused. "Yes! Will you accept it?" Yuki asked. "A boon from the goddess of love? Of course!" Wren nodded. "There needs to be more love in the world," Erevin agreed.

Yuki approached each of the companions, placing a light kiss on each of their foreheads. A brush of power lit fire on their flesh for but a moment before it faded. She came to Thorn and washed off his forehead before she kissed him. Thorn laughed, "I am a dirty boy..." "All done!" Yuki smiled happily. (Boon of Sune = One time your character may fully heal him or herself as a swift action.) "Thank you. It is good to see that you seem happy," Wren embraced her warmly. The others thanked her as well. "Hopefully that will help you in your battle against Ghandahaur. I know it is difficult without a dedicated healer," Yuki sighed. "Shri has been very dedicated. She looks after Erevin and keeps him safe," Wren assured her.

The group went on to have an enjoyable evening, hours passing. "I had intended for the moonblades to passed down family lines. It is interesting that the Starim blade has accepted you. I'm not sure if your soul will be able to pass into it, but it should be very interesting. There are four men and two women in it currently... you may have lost a couple since the blade laid dormant for so long," Ethlando continued to chat with Erevin.

Ambrozias told Azarius the story of when he took the gold from the sunken temple, bestowing the curse on his family. He told him of the bidding war between rival families in Sarchel. He was the one who had selected the towering rock island where Azarius's family estate still stood. He was pleased to hear how the estate had grown over the years as well as how much the city itself had grown.

Mali was still trying to challenge people to a drinking contest, but they noticed that the little druid was unaffected by the effects of the alcohol. One of the barbarians declared loudly, "Cheater!" before punching her heavily in the face! Ursus leapt over people to slam the barbarian to the ground as Mali kicked him right in the nuts! It managed to send the barbarians into a drunken brawling pile, an occasional tooth flying out. Posy continued to drink, staying carefully beneath Bjorn, stepping easily to the left or right to avoid a slamming body.

Thorn was lounging near the counted piles of gold and gems, tossing a few into his bags that no one else really needed to know about as he watched the writhing pile of barbarians wrestling on the ground. He frowned, "Don't they have any women barbarians?"

Once the piles of barbarians seemed to still, Raven approached Wren, "Well I think the celebration is winding down. Shall we retire, Wren?" "What did you have in mind?" Wren smiled. "I would like to see how well you have been trained in the arcane arts," the elder sultry woman answered. "Certainly," the young witch agreed. "Then follow me," Raven turned herself into a large black raven and flew off. Wren transformed herself into a white dragon, and turned to Kale, "Are you coming? Or would you like to stay here?" "Well I'm certainly not leaving you to get into any trouble," he answered. She grinned, her long slender neck swinging back so she could wink at him, "Then climb on." Kale laughed, easily using her scales to climb onto her back. "I think he's already done that," Thorn laughed. Erevin agreed, "That's what got you in this trouble."

Ethlando glanced over, interested, "Oh... a magical combat between witches, that should be fascinating." "Do you think they would mind if we watched?" Ambrozias asked. "If I know Raven... the more the merrier," the high mage answered. Thorn nodded, clearly more interested in watching the two women fight over the barbarians wrestling. Ethlando and Ambrozias whispered words of magic and followed after to the edge of the camp where the two witches had gone. Azarius, Erevin, Shri, and Thorn also moved to join the audience. The earth was dark and baked near the enormous rusty iron wall.

Raven fluttered her wings, transforming back into her elven form. Wren set down, letting Kale move off to safety, as she transformed back into her elven form. "I thought I sensed something odd about you. You have draconic blood in you, don't you?" Raven admired the younger witch. Wren smiled, "Indeed. From my father's side. His grandmother was a full blood." "Interesting. One of my descendants had relations with one of dragon blood. I suppose as long as they had two legs," Raven nodded. "My great grandmother still lives. She is quite the woman as well." Wren replied.

Raven nodded, "Do they still do dueling in the nest?" "Not that I've been a part of," the younger witch shook her head. "Well then... in tradition, during the contest we can not use any other external aids," the elder elven woman instructed, "No items of magic. Typically to verify that, we strip ourselves bare." Wren shrugged, "Alright." She instructed Cirdan to remain with Kale as she did a full strip, and handed her haversack of items to Inali to take to the elven warrior. Raven raised an eyebrow, "Well I was just going to say down to our unmentionables, but..." "Well the Nest is very free with our skin, and I wouldn't want to be accused of cheating," Wren winked at her.

"We usually have a fire and dance naked instead of duel... but this will be just fine." Perfectly concealed, her pregnancy did nothing to distort her sultry elven form.

Thorn was clapping from the audience, this duel was becoming better than the barbarian brawl all the time. "Why am I not surprised," Ethlando sighed and rolled his eyes. "Now, now, now," Ambrozias patted him, looking on with interest at the fine two elven women, "We shouldn't put down other people's customs. That's terribly racist." Erevin and Shri arrived next to Thorn to see Wren fully undressed. The young woodsman raised an eyebrow, "I've seen this before." Thorn grinned at him, "But it's still nice." Erevin chuckled, nodding his agreement. "Why are they taking their clothes off to duel?" Azarius asked with an eyebrow raised. He certainly wouldn't want to expose the tentacles he kept hidden at a full public viewing. Erevin shrugged, "Give a witch a reason to take her clothes off and she's all over it." "Okay then," Azarius nodded with a shrug, and continued to watch.

A true witch's duel. The fight was strange and disturbing as the two slung horrible hexes at each other. Lightning bolts cracked across the sky to collide into the other's. Carpets of spiders spewed from other side to form their own battle at the center. "Blech! Do they always have to spew spiders?" Thorn grimaced. "I know, right? I swear Wren saves that just for when I'm around," Erevin agreed. The two ripped and clawed at each other's minds. They threw an unnatural lust at each other, both trying desperately to resist. "That's the price of admission right there... worth all the spiders," Erevin nodded. Thorn was nodding in agreement, whispering out loud, "Don't resist... just let it happen." Wren threw out waves of ecstasy at the elder that mildly washed over their audience. Raven was impressed. Clearly she thought she was going to put this young witch in her place. Wren was both impressed with Raven's mastery as well as proud that she was able to keep up with her. A powerful light show of high level magic until Raven finally called an end to it, "Enough, enough. That's enough. I am so happy to see that the Nest has prospered with strong casters in the many years since I have passed on. Your mother has taught you well." Wren bowed gracefully with respect, "Your skill is great. I am proud to be one of your descendants." The two embraced warmly in a moment Thorn had been waiting for, their bare skin pressed together.

Ethlando glanced at the others, "I think your halfling is a pervert." "True that," Erevin nodded in agreement. "I'm a mythic pervert, thank you," Thorn corrected him with pride. "That can be dangerous... should a mythic immortal consort with a non-mythic mortal, it always produces a child. You know the stories of the gods," Ethlando warned. "Fortunately that's never happened," Kale spoke loudly, glancing at Thorn, and thinking of his sister back home. Wren laughed softly as she gathered her things back from her warrior lover. "Not that I know of..." Thorn shrugged, mumbling more to himself, "Not that I'd know... I mean I left right afterward."

"Eh it was mildly entertaining," Ethlando shrugged, unimpressed. "Oh, come on," Ambrozias nudged him, "Certainly you had to get at least a little rise out of that." "I don't know what you mean," the high mage shook his head. The sorcerous nobleman sighed. Wren tilted her head, looking over the uppity high mage thoughtfully, "I think he's only into other men..." "Now that the... 'show'... is over, shall we proceed to pull the blade from your paramore?" Ethlando turned to Erevin, "I can show you some... real magic." The others could feel the ice from the stares from both witches. Ethlando glanced back at Raven, "You can put your clothes back on... any time now." Wren blinked in surprise, "Is the female form somehow offensive to you?" "Yes, but only a tart displays it so freely and openly," he answered. "Is that so?" Wren raised an eyebrow, her voice far too calm. Thinking to herself that only a fool would see her confident nudity as an open invitation. "Yes that's so," he answered matter-of-factly. "You didn't have to watch," Wren replied, a soft grown curled into her calm tone. "The magics were interesting," he shrugged. "Well I'm glad that you found it fascinating," Wren held her ground. "Yes, we're both glad," Raven stood beside her.

The fact that the two women were angry seemed to roll right off of the ancient elven sorcerer... he either failed to notice or didn't care as he motioned for Erevin and Shri to join him at a table where the drow priestess lied down. "You may feel a bit of a pinch when I pull the blade," the high mage warned her. Using his staff, he cut into the stone around her, forming a circle.The audience continued to watch. Ethlando asked Ambrozias and Azarius to assist him as he made three points of light equally distanced apart in the circle. Each of the three stood at a point in the circle as Ethlando explained, "The magic of old is ritualistic and requires a group of elven mages. The mythals, that I am sure you are familiar with, were not created by one man. As a substitute for a full circle, I will draw upon the power of my friend, Ambrozias, and his descendant, Azarius, who are both fonts brimming with arcane power."

Wren, Mali, and Azarius watched with interest... it was high magic that they had not seen before... remnants of how the Netherese once casted, drawing upon the powers of the gods. Azarius could feel the magic being pulled from his body as it coursed into the circle. A long process of ritualistic chanting of magic as Ethlando carefully pulled threads of magic, weaving them slowly and deliberately.

Very delicately, he moved his hands over Shri as though weaving a hole into threads that the others could not see. In a swift single motion, he plunged his hand through the magic to dive into Shri's body. The young drow shrieked with a fiery anger brought on by sharp pain, "Pinch, ussta et'zarreth!" The moonblade shimmered, draped in gossamer filaments, as Ethlando pulled it out of her body. With a wave of his hand, he snipped away the tendrils that filled back into the priestess, leaving the two fully separated as Shri continued to curse in drow under her breath, "Phraktos xsa dos, dos nasket yith'ez dalharuk d'natha ssindossa!" The runes came alive along the moonblade as Ethlando stepped back from her. Ghostly figures of the Starim lineage... a half dozen elves who took a knee to salute to the maker of the blade. They turned and nodded their approval to the young elven prince who bowed with respect. Ethlando nodded to them, "Your sacrifice for The People will not go forgotten. There will come a time when all of those within the moonblade will be freed and returned to Corellion." The six nodded before slowly being absorbed back into their runes. He formally presented the moonblade to Erevin who very humbly and formally accepted. The light around the circle dimmed out, leaving Ambrozias and Azarius feeling fully drained and worn out. Raven sighed, "Show off..." "Yes, but it wasn't all his magic... He had to drain the power of two others to do it," Wren nodded to her, "Most interesting." Erevin moved to Shri's side to help her off of the table as she adjusted her her diaphanous robes around her. "I feel free... I don't hear the voices anymore and that will take some getting used to," she told him. "I am glad that you are well. Welcome back," he smiled and the two embraced. "I am glad to be alone once more, but I will miss some of them," she nodded. He nodded, "Good. You can tell me about them. I will get to meet them soon enough." "Hopefully not! Let's not rush that," she shook her head, "We should find somewhere to be alone together. It would be pleasant not to have 6 extra spectators." He nodded, keeping an arm around her as he pondered the ghostly images of 4 men and 2 women from the blade... realizing they had been with her since she became a part of the blade. The companions slept for the evening, recovering from the celebration. In the morning, horns sounded across the courtyard... angelic, demonic, and other types carried the call of war and battle. Posy woke up, lying over Uther, and wearing a bent up and dented crown from winning the drinking contest. She wore it proudly to meet her companions, pulling a tooth out from between two of the tines and tossing it away. Onimaru came to greet them, "We are starting another round of war... it appears we are entering a new phase. Ghaundahaur is most displeased with your recent victory over his prize." -They had obtained the magic orb that prevented against extra dimensional creatures from getting within its border. He led them to the top of the impossibly tall iron wall that smelled of rust and metal. Looking out over the plains in front of them, they could see an army of tentacled creatures... and lumbering behind them were gigantic forms, a hundred feet in height, stepping on the smaller tentacled creatures as if they didn't matter. The giants all seemed to look different... A human in armor, a woman in robes, an almost handsome elf... but they all had tentacles wriggling outward from their bodies. Erevin turned to Onimaru, "What sorcery is this?" Before the handsome demon blood could answer him, a great booming voice came from behind them... Tempus came out of his fortress, looming over the great towering wall, "Ghaundahaur has sent the dead gods from the worlds that he has claimed to fight us. Today is a day for all to show their metal. We must come together as representatives of our gods, and I shall lead!" He turned to Posy, "It is time for you to return to your world." "But we have to... we can't just..." the young gnome gestures out at the approaching army, not wanting to abandon those here to fight it alone, "Can't we at least help for a little bit?" "Some of you have mythic power within you, I know... but these are Gods... and you are too valuable to risk," he shook his head. Posy's shoulders melted as she sulked, "Okay..." Massive dragons flew out over the crowd, breathing fire over several before they were shot from the sky to spiral into the hard rock terrain. "I had better go rouse the Company," Onimaru nodded to the companions, "Perhaps someday we will meet again." The others nodded their farewell. "You should go help your brethren," Thorn nodded to Kale, glancing out at the downed dragons. The elven warrior said nothing, but glared at the young halfling. Azarius wove a planar travel magic spell, taking himself and his companions back to Rawlingswood and Myth Coramanth. The harsh tang of rust and blood faded to the green lush forest outside of the elven city. Elven horns called in their arrival as rangers went to greet them.