Chapter 3: Stabbin' Westward

Thokk's cheeks go slightly pink as he furtively looks around and quickly folds the note, stuffing it into his pocket. He can feel that he was too quick and didn't fold it right. He takes up the package and opens it up. "I hope it's a sword of some kind, I could use something other than this standard issue hunk of steel I've been lugging around."

Thokk, you peel back the brown wrapping paper, and you expose a sterling silver pommel and black threaded grip... Your wish has been seemingly granted; as you pull back more wrapper you expose a brown scabbard with metallic accents. Along the edge of the scabbard you see the Common word "Beheader” etched out.

Slowly, you withdraw the longsword from its scabbard and raise it to the sunlight, exposing a bright, silvery blade. Its heft and balance are uncanny, far superior to your existing sword. Free of tarnish, freshly sharpened, this weapon looks ready to slay.

As the wrapper falls to the ground, a small piece of parchment drops out. You pick it up to see a sales receipt—that Kayti in all likelihood wrapped up with the sword by accident—and take note of the items listed in this transaction:

- quiver, 25 iron arrows
- iron pole arm
- vorpal longsword, ”Jess the Beheader” edition
- set of female Kap'n Kobold nightwear

Thokk, on a lark you hold your new longsword up to your ear, but you do not hear any voices.

"Seems all roads lead to Krusk, to me..." Ezythyr mutters. He looks around at the scattered group, Eledriar seemingly lost in thought and Thokk swinging an impressive new sword around. The dwarf looks back at Mar'i. "Thank ye for the trainin' exercise but I think it best we be on our way. As for yer offer of help..." He looks back at Cordial. "Perhaps some phantom steeds?" He suggests. He looks back to the archmage. "I haven't yet figured out how to summon me clan's steed, Rampart." He admits with a shrug.

Cordial looks back down at Ezythyr, "I'm not sure I can help with any mounts at this moment."

Turning to Mar'i, "anything you can do to help us in our travel to Candlekeep, and suggestions for making the most of our interactions with Krusk, will be helpful."

"Sweet!" Thokk swings the sword around, practicing his "moves" and grinning from ear to ear. He sheathes it and begins to head back to his comrades, but remembers the receipt and stuffs it in to his pocket. He heads to where Cordial and Ezythyr are standing.

"Hey! I got a gift from someone at an inn and I'm eager to give it a try, what do you say we get on the road?"

"I was just askin' our friend here for some help in that department." He looks back to Mar'i. "Whatdya say, friend? Some phantom steeds would surely save us a good amount o' time."

Mar'i: "Waste not your time with phantom steeds, I can get you wherever you need to go faster than any galloping beast!"

With a wave of his hands over the open field, you see a black smoke billow across the space, slowly taking form. It curves slowly in and out of a spiral, before flattening out into a tall, rectangular shape. As the smoke clears from the center of the shape, you see a scene within it, depicting a quiet shoreline, waves gently moving up and down sandy banks. A distance away, you see a cliffside, and atop it a large, looming stone fortress.

"When you are ready, walk through my gate here, and your journey to Candlekeep will be but the blink of a child's weeping eye!"

[Level up impending; finish any unresolved business, and when everyone crosses the portal, the final-ish chapter of our adventure begins! - DM]

Cordial walks toward the portal hesitantly, then circles it quizzically. She raises her staff and slowly passes it through the portal's opening to see what she will observe, then taps it on the ground directly in front of her, and then on the other side of the portal.

(OOC - child's weeping eye - nice touch. Is there sand on the other side of the portal? Can she knock some onto the grass in front of her?)

Thokk sheathes his sword and steps gently into the portal

Ezythyr nods to the archmage. "Thank ye, friend. This is indeed much better!" He shakes the archmage's hand, and steps through the portal. But just before he disappears, you can hear him muttering. "Do ye distrust all magic that ain't green?"

Cordial, you are able to dust up some sand from the beach on the other side of the portal, and manage to unearth a tiny shell, that begins to shuffle away.

Thokk and Ezythyr, on passage through the portal, you find yourselves standing on the shores of a rather quiet beach. Looking to the south, you see a range of mountains, casting their shadow over grassland and forested areas beneath. To the north, the looming stone fortress comes into clearer view, sitting ominously on a protruding cliff. Perhaps it is the mix of sunlight and cloud coverage causing Candlekeep to appear so darkly.

As your eyes look further along the shoreline, you see a group of human children, seemingly happy and playful, tossing stones into the ocean.

(OOC: I gotta fix my notifications for this... keep falling behind, I'm so sorry! Ok if we assume that the below was happening in parallel with everyone else's interactions so Ele's not super behind? If not, dw I get it!)

Eledriar crouches and reaches out her hand to Jeremy's grip. "You don't know how you feel about me? Haven't we danced some excellent dances together?" She can't seem to take her eyes off of the pulsing glow of the sword.

Jeremy, the Dancing Sword: "I think that's what I'm getting at. You've got the moves and the talent... in what little remains of my memories, I know that only comes from a dark place."

Eledriar, you feel an aura, almost a slight nausea, but very briefly. When it passes, your magical blade continues its parley with you.

"You've known loss, and that gives you drive. It is inspiring, and gives me such excitement about all the lives we can take together! I don't know how I became this... weapon... but I do know I wasn't always like this. So I'm asking for your promise: as Mordai once left your life before, we may be forced apart someday, and when that time comes...

"Promise me on that one day, you will let me go."

Eledriar, her hand on the grip, stiffens. "How... did you know about Mordai?" she whispers out loud. "Who... are you, if this was not always what you were?"

Cordial flips Ezythyr the bird in a manner that betrays her inexperience in making this gesture; her fingers are stiff and while the middle finger is straight, the thumb and index seem to be forming the "ok" shape, and her pinky finger stands straight, parallel to the middle. She snears at him as well, for good measure, behind his back.

Feeling defiant, she crouches down and scoops up a handful of sand and the small creature and casts Speak to Animals, burning a spell slot heedlessly. "Hello, friend," she says quietly, "you were about to scoot into an area you wouldn't have known. I'm going to set you back in your homeland, ok?"

Jeremy: "Well, we are very much connected, and I can feel my real power returning, so I can see inside your head... Sort of. As for who I am, or was, well, that's all hazy and blurry. For now, I'm feeling like Jeremy again, the cuttingest, dancingest weapon in all of magical creation! With your permission--and promise--let us slice our way into fame and fortune!"

[By intention or otherwise, Eledriar, your attunement with your Dancing Blade, Jeremy, is complete. You will have full command of this weapon and its abilities, which are as follows:

On Bonus Action you can toss Jeremy into the air and speak the Command Word (your pick). When you do so, the sword begins to hover, flies up to 30 feet, and attacks one creature of your choice within 5 feet of it, using your Attack roll and ability score modifier to Damage Rolls. While hovering you can use a following Bonus Action to cause it to fly up to 30 feet to another spot within 30 feet of you, and as part of the same Bonus Action, you can cause Jeremy to Attack one creature within 5 feet of it. After Jeremy attacks for the fourth time, it flies up to 30 feet and tries to return to your hand. If you have no hand free, it falls to the ground at your feet. It also ceases to hover if you grasp it or move more than 30 feet away from it.

Character sheets and item descriptions to be updated. - DM]

Cordial, from beneath the shell, a tiny voice responds to you, soft and somewhat caustic:

"I was sleeping, if you must know. So yes, it'd be great to be returned to my quiet spot, to the point just prior to when your stick exposed me to the sun. Okay, thanks, bye!"

Based on your experience with seaborne creatures, this is on par with hermit crab behavior.

Still feeling sour from her ongoing low-key feud with Ezythyr, Cordial considers tossing this miserable creature into the sea, or, even better, tossing it aside where she is and leaving it behind as the portal closes. Resisting the urge, she rolls it unceremoniously out of her open palm into the sand, where its momentum causes it to roll several feet, passing perilously close to several large rocks along the way before it comes to a rest in a mucky puddle.

Cordial straightens up and passed through the portal, hoping to look casual, but holding her Python staff at the ready, just in case.

Eledriar's grip tightens again around the handle. "I promise. I can do this." Slowly, she stands to her full height, brushing the dust gently off her knees. She turns and sees her party walking into the portal, and almost in a daze, goes to follow them... still thinking about Mordai.

Cordial, you hear the hermit crab cursing, as it lands belly up in the saltwater puddle, very much against its wishes.

"Curse you, fiendish woman, the seaborne will all know of this!"

Monty takes this opportunity to briefly speak to you.


Monty: "I sssserved a pirate captain once, on boat protection duty. Hermit crabs were always the worsssst... but the tastiest. You shoulda kept it for a sssnack."

Eledriar, as you are the last to cross through the portal from the Wood of Sharp Teeth into the beaches south of Candlekeep, you hear Mar'i Olopiz call out.


Mar'i: "Give my regards to my dear friend! Tell him I'm dying for a visit!"

The portal crackles and snaps closed behind you, leaving you standing a few yards away from the rest of the party. Standing on the sand, you look out to the ocean and see the playing children down the shore. This scene does not do much to bring you relief from your thoughts, but the odd plinking sound that you hear in the distance--from the children tossing stones into the ocean--has a distracting tonal quality. Almost worthy of a song.