FinalHavenLarp.com

Stop! Read the "Action is the sole..." thread or the "Down the Elevator" thread first! They will tell you when to come here.

From the mine entrance emerges the elevator group in the company of three wood elves, one of them rather tall and carrying a staff. They seem to be amicable, for now. They are holding the “hostages,” restraining them as they struggle.

Outside, the rest of the PCs, including Grymthor and his men, are surrounded by the signs of a recent golem attack, though all that remains now are large piles of mud, gold slowly turning to grey. There is a group of seven wood elves with them, having freshly discarded their disguises, and some sort of temporary truce has been established, for no one is attacking anyone else. The only one missing seems to be Lhaewan.

Bregolon, distraught, sees his sister and rushes towards her. “Sylvia!” She is released, and the two embrace, though she seems unusually nervous for some reason.

One of the hostages, a man in his thirties, suddenly breaks free from his captor and runs headlong towards the body of Ademon the elf, still lying on the ground. The man pulls back the cloth covering the body, and feverishly reaches into his pockets to find something to give it. Finding nothing but lint, he tears off pieces of his own clothing, stuffing them into the dead elf’s pockets. “For you. Take it. Take It!” He screams, frustrated, then scratches his arms. “What more? All I have left is what’s inside.”

His fingers draw blood, but you are able to restrain him again before he does anything rash.

“The madness comes and goes,” explains the wood elf with the staff. He has a small weasel perched on his shoulder that chitters. He identifies himself as Immeral, and he embraces an elf girl at the entrance, named Zinni: his daughter.

You all share information. Everyone is aware of the nature of the coins by now, and the wood elves' true intentions. You discover both groups were attacked by gold golems, just in different places. Several wood elves were killed deep inside the mine by them.

“It was Master Lhawean,” says Bregolon to the group just emerging, protectively holding his sister. “He betrayed us. He sent the golems after us, then fled.
He made those coins, and intends to trade them at the Merchant’s Council meeting tonight. It’ll possess any merchant who touches one, as it did me all these years, and I was only half-human… Anyone who is not part elf is in much worse danger. We must stop him.” His sister in his arms suddenly struggles, pleading, her eyes wild. Bregolon holds her back from the dead elf. “Sylvia? Sylvia!" She ignores him. "Oh, first we must help my sister.”

Under the guidance of Galadhorn and Alinar you quickly build a pyre to burn the body, holding to elven customs as best can be. Bregolon whispers a few reverent words. As soon as the flames arise, there is visible relief on the hostages’ faces. “It’s working,” whispers Sylvia, no longer fighting her brother, but hugging him in earnest.
You do not stay, however. “We’ve spent too long here, “says Grymthor. “That Merchants' Council meeting should start any moment now. My men and I will take these hostages home. You go.” He detains the wood elf leader, Atakin, for questioning, but lets the others go. A few stay here to study the coins and look into cures (and we’ll assume that any PCS who haven’t posted in a while are back here with them), leaving 5 wood elves to join you, if you wish to let them (you may discuss this amongst yourselves). Plus Bregolon and Galadhorn.

Your party, regardless of size, heads back to the grounds where you first encountered the tents. But even from far away, you notice something different. One giant tent seems to loom over the grounds that wasn’t there before. It’s the size of a football field, and easily three stories tall. It could only remain standing by magic.

“That’s the Council Hall,” says Galadhorn, “where the meeting’s taking place. Elven magic mixed with dwarven ingenuity.” He seems repulsed by the idea of the two intermingling. “A temporary thing, to be sure. Looks like the meeting is already underway.”

When you reach it, you notice that several guards are outside, of many different races: human, dwarf, elf, and valkyn’vi.

Galadhorn sneers and pushes past them, muttering at the large entrance flap, but when he tries to enter, the fabric does not budge as it should. “What’s the meaning of this? I have given the password. It should let me in. I demand entrance!”

You put a hand experimentally on the tent wall; it feels as hard as steel. Even a sword blade cannot pierce it.

“The tent’s enchanted. All attendees have to give a password, to keep the riff-raff out,” says Galadhorn. “Lhawean must have changed it on me!”

None of the guards know the password. When you tell them of Lhawean’s scheme, several turn pale, but there is nothing they can do. They can confirm that Lhawean entered not long ago, and that the meeting is underway, however, with all the various foreign merchants present inside, except one:

A Valkyn’Vi woman suddenly staggers out of the shadows towards you, having overheard your conversation. She holds a pipe in one hand which trails green smoke. Her speech is slurred, and she has trouble focusing her eyes. A distant smile graces her lips. Those of you who have met her before recognize the merchant Meteora. Her twin is nowhere to be found.

“So…returned at last? Or laaaast to return? I just couldn’t enter. Had a baaad feeling about the whole thing.” She holds her stomach like she’s about to throw up. “But, my sister just didn’t believe me….Guess I was-“ she pauses, waiting for someone to finish her sentence. When no one does, she continues: “Right. I was right. If you want in, my darlings, there are two ways.” She takes a puff, then offers the pipe. “If you take eleven puffs of this pipe, without stopping for breath, it will turn your bodies to smoke, temporarily. Then you can slip through the seams. It’s a lovely blend from my grandfather’s ashes. There is a very small chance your body will not return to normal, however. Or you may dig under the tent. Five feet or so from the outside the bottom surface becomes cloth again. It’s safer, but it will take time, and you will most certainly be heard, losing any element of surprise.”

“There may be yet a third way,” says one of the dwarf guards. “I have this teleportation stone. It was attuned to our tent, but Ondya Diamondsmith re-attuned it to himself. It should teleport someone directly to him, and he’s inside. But only one person. ” (If a PC is in possession of a stone from the dwarf tent, it will also work the same). “In theory, the door should open from the inside out, and that person could let everyone else in. There’s just one problem. I used it not long ago, and all I saw was darkness. I felt a deathly constriction, then some magic quickly bounced me back. Perhaps someone with the sagely arts could tell what the heck it was if they tried it themselves…”

"Speed is of the essence. If this structure is teleport-warded and it's warding spells are resilient enough to survive disenchantment, then the Valkin-VI's smoke transformation spell would appear our best option. While only one may be necessary to open the entrance, sending within two would be prudent should they be met with immediate resistance within, or should one fail to again solidify."

"I will take the pipe." Abaddon says to the Valkyn'vi woman.

"I have one of the stones you speak of. I'm no sage or whatever you said. But, I'll try it all the same."

Faust pulls a runed stone from his coat pocket and mutters into it.

He disappears.

He reappears within a moment. He grunts as he hold his shoulder tightly, "I think I sprained it...dark space, gruff voice, said I shouldn't be there. Hurt like hell...that's the gist."

He steps back for some moments. Janus goes behind him and helps him reset his shoulder. Faust's hand glows faintly as he heals the strained ligaments.

"The person who goes in should have enough ability to make it to the doors, but also the stealth and guile to not get caught, as well as a certain LACK of dramatic flare. As I'm sure a large entrance would do no one good. I would suggest myself, but I'm also incredibly egotistical. Perhaps Cirrus?"

The Valkin'Vi watches and listens as the old Valkin'Vi twin speaks and those who speak after. She looks to Abaddon for his answer. When he announces he will be taking the pipe, a look of concern weighs upon her brow. She pays no mind to Faust as he hastily teleports away and back again.

*When Meteora approaches, Kaylan nods and smiles lightly. When she shows signs she is unwell, Kaylan steps closer to speak to her.*

"Our thanks for your aid Meteora, but where is Memee?"

*Kaylan listens as Meteora explains the situation with the tent and the entry options, and watches as Faust tries his stone. The dwarf ponders a moment while Abaddon tries the pipe, and leans in to whisper to Meteora.*

That look of concern for Abaddon shifts to Kaylan and the old Valkin'Vi woman as Kaylan leans in close enough for whispers..

Her eyes shift between Kaylan's weapon, the placement of his hands and any reaction from the elderly Valkin'Vi.

*Kaylan finishes with Meteora and turns back to the other, and almost reacts as if punched when he sees the expression on Kami's face and notices her eyes flicking from his hands to his hammer.*

"Kami, what's that look for?"

*The burly dwarf watches her a moment, then slowly turns to watch Faust test out the teleport stone. When Faust re appears and shows signs of having been injured, Kaylan shakes his head in frustration.*


" I have to agree with Faust and Alinar, we need to be quick and if Cirrus were here I would send her. Alinar, have you checked to see if the tent is disenchant resistant? If it is we will have to use the smoke, as Abaddon has stated he would, or tunnel. I have a weapon that will shorten the time to tunnel, but since its not what its intended fore it would still take about 10 minutes with the help here. If it is, I will use the pipe and go with Abaddon incase he faces anyone his magic isn't fully effective against."

*Kaylan walks over to Abaddon and waits for him to finish with the pipe.*

"If, and once we are no longer wispy, I will stand guard while Abaddon opens the tent from inside."

"The precise method of determining whether or not the tend wards may be disenchanted is to try it - at task that, among our current count, I understand only Abaddon may perform. Should the simple approach prove inadequate, infiltration in smoke form appears our best recourse. I would suggest Faust accompany Abaddon as stealth in this initial stage may indeed provide advantage. Also finesse accompanied by mystical lore may be required to actually open the door should further unknown defenses be applied within."

"A fair statement Alinar, we should see if Abaddon has tried disenchanting the tent. I think he should be the one to chose who goes with him, since it seems to be the consensus that his skill are needed there for sure. It should be his decision what skill set he desires as back up."

*Kaylan turns to Abaddon, and waits for a reply*

"Disenchant does nothing to the tent. What ever magic they have it is significant. Kaylin, Why don't you come. I'd rather have a wall to stand behind." The old Man said. "I assume Kami will be coming with us."


"11 puff puff pass."

"Do refrain from any heavy lifting with this," he slaps Faust's shoulder. Under his breath, the mage mutters, "Not that you would..."

With a sigh, Janus steps back and closes his eyes. He drops to one knee first - the left - then the other, and settles back, feet tucked under him. After another deep breath, he extends both hands forward and begins the lengthy process of analyzing the magical energies at work in the tent's walls. [Greater Sense Magic]

His voice flat, Janus intones "I will join you once I better understand the arcane forces at play herein."

*Kaylan nods to Abaddon and walks over to take the pipe after the wizard is done.*

"Are you sure your not asking in hope I don't reform?"

*Kaylan smiles at the jest as he takes the pipe and uses it as instructed by Meteora*

Meteora smiles at Kaylan. "So now you take the pipe, dwarf? Now you trust me?" She signs, then holds her head, dizzy. "My sister and I were rude to you earlier, forgive us...as for where is Memee? She is inside. She did not believe my foretellings of misfortune about this event." She hesitates, ashamed to admit a secret. "Our predictions do not always agree...so I sought the pipe for guidance. I was right: doom. Though who knows, maybe she will be right, in the end, since you are here. Predictions are..." She waits for someone to complete her thought in lieu of her absent sister. Again, she does it herself with a grimace: "Funny...So, funny."

If you take the pipe and use it as instructed, your bodies turn to smoke, and you may indeed enter through the seams in the tent. Roll two dice (http://www.random.org/dice/), and go ahead and post here what you get (or PM me).
I'll post more tomorrow of what happens as a result.