Adventures in Everlund
Chapter 5 - Daring, Darian and Disappearances
16th of Mirtul, 1492 DR
As Valeria takes her leave from the private dining room, she throws a wink at Darian, squares her shoulders, and steps out into the crisp evening air. She walks along the uneven cobbles lit by the glow of the street lamps until she reaches the Knightsbridge. Her exhalations cause little frosty puffs of air and she chuckles.
With the bridge in sight, she keeps a sharp eye out for any signs of a slender man with slicked-back dark hair and a small neck tattoo of a snake. The bridge itself is not heavily trafficked at this hour. Valeria blends into the sparse crowd, her eyes scanning each person she passes. She notices a figure matching Bran “The Snake” Harlow’s description, leaning casually against the railing of the bridge, quietly engaged in a conversation with another person. The second man is of average height and build, wearing a dark hooded cloak that obscures most of his face. A thin scar runs across his right cheek. His hand rubs the top of a dagger hilt sticking out from his belt. His posture keeps changing, eyes seeking out any prying eyes or ears.
Valeria walks past the pair, pausing about twenty feet away to gaze out over the glistening River Rauvin.
The man Valeria assumes to be Bran exudes an air of confidence. He stands casual, yet alert, subtly scanning his surroundings. As he speaks, the other man nods, moving his hands erratically. There is a moment of silence before the second man growls a word of acquiescence and walks away, passing Valeria. Sizing him up, Valeria feels moderately confident she could handle Bran. She also recognizes that, if he lives up to his reputation, he could prove a significant challenge alone.
Valeria pushes herself off the bridge railing, heading toward the Moonlit Market to see about getting a late night snack. “Right.” She mutters to herself, “A meat pie would be just what I need.” She follows her nose, the vegetable stew not having quite hit the spot. There are a scattered selection of vendors selling their wares. A young woman catches her eye, surrounded by jars, bowls and assorted items artfully arranged on tables and shelves around her. As Valeria approaches, the woman smiles. “Care for a bit of rabbit stew, stag pie, a bit of pickled herring or a turkey leg? Those are my treasures that I wish to part with this evening.”
Valeria ponders, thinking the stag pie feels a bit wrong, given the quest she is on. “I’ll take a bit of the herring.”
“Fantastic, three coppers please!” The merchant smiles and hands over a wax wrapped package of pickled herring.
Snack in hand, Valeria decides to head back to the inn. She pops bits of herring into her mouth and thinks about jumping Darian’s bones before grabbing a few winks, then heading to the temple in the morning with the others. She smirks, thinking about the quest the stag has sent her on, and lets out a frosty breath, “Damn, it feels good to be a badass!”
She arrives back at the inn, which has quieted down as the night has progressed. Without the lovely tunes from Lirael, most patrons have abandoned the common room altogether. Valeria grins, striding over to Darian with a hungry look on her face. She leans her elbows on the counter, looking up at him from beneath heavy lashes. “Care to help me see how sturdy my bed is?”
Darian’s gaze rakes over her face and down to the shiny metal of her breastplate. With a snap of his fingers and a muttered word, he uses Telekinesis. One of the buckles on Valeria’s armor comes undone. “My bed is closer.” Darian moves around the bar, holding his hand out to the knight. She takes it and they walk down the hallway. They enter the room and he quietly closes the door, leaving their figures dimly lit in the flicker of soft candlelight.
Valeria glances around, taking in Darian’s style. The far side of the room has a large four poster bed with sturdy polished oak columns. A desk sits along one wall; the top is neatly kept, with short stacks of paper in lines across the far edge. There is a simple ink pot and several quills laid out beside it. A fresh brown apron hangs on a peg next to an oversized stuffed chair in the corner. Within easy reach of the chair is a small table with a tea tray and a shelf overflowing with books and manuscripts.
Darian’s hand slides beneath Valeria’s loose tendrils of hair to rest on the back of her neck. He pulls, leaning in close and pressing his lips to hers. Their eyes close and the jovial tension of the afternoon leaves them, with expectations of passion filling the space between. Breaking the kiss with a soft bite to her lip, he moves around Valeria, undoing straps and buckles as he goes.
As her boots and the pieces of her plate armor are set to the side, Valeria stands in a thin white blouse and tight brown trousers. Locking eyes on Darian, she removes her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it toward her armor. Soft brown nipples stand pert in the cool air of his chamber, demanding attention. “I didn’t lose the armor just for you to stand there...”
Darian laughs, obligingly running his calloused hands up her soft stomach, over her ribs and cupping her breasts in both palms. He massages them, thumbs caressing their tips as he leans in to capture her mouth. Valeria moans as Darian’s hands sweep down her body, undoing the clasp of her trousers and sliding them off her hips. He kneels down, pulling them the rest of the way off, revealing long muscled legs. Her thatch of blond curls glistens, wet with the need for more of his touch.
Valeria smirks, placing her palms on Darian’s chest and pushing him back against the bed. He falls back with an oomph. She points and snaps her fingers. “Shirt. Off. Now.” She kneels down, pulling his boots off as he tosses his shirt with abandon beside the bed. She crooks a finger for him to stand. Looking up, she slides his breaches slowly down his hips. A satisfied smile cracks across her lips as he springs free, hard and eager.
As Valeria stands, running her hands up Darian’s thighs and caressing the velvety hardness between, Darian snaps his fingers and she suddenly finds herself unable to move. “Now, lass, it is my turn.” Valeria remains paralyzed from Hold Person as Darian walks out of her view. She feels his lips, close behind her ear, “You will not sleep much tonight.”
Valeria feels his hands roughly grip her hips, pulling them back as he pushes her breasts forward onto the bed. Inwardly she groans, outwardly unable to utter a word as he sheathes himself deep inside her. Only allowing her one stroke, he pulls himself out, standing her back up and sitting before her on the bed. He twists both palms face up and casts Prestidigitation, and she feels hot hands all over her body. He releases the Hold Person spell and she maintains her balance; with soft words Darian casts Entangle, causing tendril-like vines to begin licking their way up her thighs, building in tempo and sensation and reach until the spell embraces her fully.
Though Valeria does get some rest, it doesn’t account for much of her night. The bed does stay intact, hinting that it may be magically reinforced. She drifts off to sleep, feeling empowered by this night and all the experiences of the last few days. She remains conflicted on where she wants to invest that new-found power. In the right moment, she will attain level four.
Nimly leaves the private dining room with a desire to determine the properties of the darkwood wand in his possession. He finds an empty table in the bar, and settles in to enjoy the atmosphere saturated in Lirael’s cittern music. The wand is carved with a swirling pattern and the more he studies it, he is sure that the wand projects some kind of whispering sensation to its user.
Glancing up, he watches Lirael play; her joy and mastery come through in her music, her hands moving quickly and decisively on the stringed instrument. She looks around as she plays, never missing a beat in her performance as she acknowledges an exuberant patron. Yávië is over at the bar, in conversation with Darian. Near those two, Nimly’s eyes alight on a little horned figure on her hands and knees. She’s quite taken with Darian’s quilldog companion. Nimly concludes (insight:20) that the little horned figure is a harmless and curious newcomer, not familiar with this place and not at all a threat to it. Nimly feels an instinctual desire to trust her, sensing that her intentions are pure and childlike.
Nimly stands and stretches, intending to head for his room. As he walks by Lirael, he flips 2gp into her cittern case. “My lady, you have made a fine evening … all the more beautiful.” Thorn makes a perky squeak and wiggles his ears.
Lirael turns her attention to Nimly with a fierce grin. "Thank you for the contribution. That will cover my room for a couple of days! Nimly, was it? I enjoyed playing for your group. There is a hurdy gurdy player here at the inn, and I've asked her to take my spot for a spell. Do you have time to have a drink with me?" She glances at her cittern case. "The drinks will be on me."
“I’d like nothing more! I have a table against the wall. There. And … it mostly isn’t sticky.”
"Mostly isn't sticky…" She laughs. “Sounds like my kind of table. I'll play another song and will be there shortly. Could you please order me a Honey Pine Dew, if they have one? I'm going to spend a bit of the coin you gave me on something delicious."
“It will be waiting. Darian served me one earlier and it was a rich journey to the bottom of that mug.” Nimly sighs, enjoying the memory of the drinking, and the heavy pangs of loss now that it is empty and gone. “See you soon.” He returns to his seat and opens a page of his notebook to create a reimbursement ledger for Captain Anara. He begins adding up the tab, deciding which items should be reimbursable. With the tally complete, he plans to have the Captain reimburse him for roughly 10 gold so far for drinks, food and lodging.
He watches as the satyr goes over and takes Lirael’s place. She carefully unslings her hurdy gurdy, holds it lovingly, and then begins a joyous tune. A childlike happiness radiates from her as she closes her eyes and gets lost in the music, as the inn and everything around her disappears for a while, as she channels herself through the complicated instrument.
Lirael makes her way over to Nimly’s table. She sits down and takes an appreciative sip from her drink. "Mmm, that is delicious!" She grins at Nimly. "Your companions are interesting. That Valeria is... not sure where she'll land tonight." She giggles. "It was nice playing music with Yávië. How did you make the stars over us? That created quite the atmosphere. I think the woodland creatures in particular enjoyed it."
The hurdy gurdy music is lively, moving into a fast paced jig. Looking around Nimly sees a few patrons rising to dance, a few of the roudier ones up on their tables.
“Oh, good. You saw the woodland creatures too. I didn’t see anyone acknowledge them and was a bit worried.” Nimly giggles. “Was that your doing? I began the illusion to wash out the tavern ceiling into something non distinct. As the animals began to appear, it felt right to shift it to a forest scene at night. I know a few spells, and that one is one of my favorites… durathir ithildrin.” He quietly speaks the verbal component of Silent Image and a cat hops up on the table, staring at Lirael with large unblinking eyes. Thorn, off to the side, rolls his eyes. He’s grown bored by conjured animals, which rarely have any smell at all.
Lirael reaches out to pet the fluffy orange cat. Her long fingers pass straight through it. The cat is unconcerned by this, and starts licking a paw as if the minstrel were the illusion. Lirael pulls her hand back, glancing over at Nimly.
Lirael chuckles softly. "I believe the woodland creatures were thanks to your friend. Though I wasn't sure if that was part of the same magic that made the night sky." She claps as one of the hurdy gurdy songs ends. "She is quite good! If she plays another jig, I may ask you to dance." She winks. "What brings you to Everlund?"
“I would love to! She makes it look so effortless.” Nimly wiggles his toes to the music. “I’m here due to an errand for my patron, though those goals have shifted since I arrived. The bandits have been reason enough to stay since then. How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve made a home for myself here in Everlund… though I don’t enjoy staying in one location for too long. I play here most nights. I like passing the time with Darian. He’s a font of information and good with… discretion, shall we say.” Her eyes are intent on yours as she sips her drink. "I agree with your assessment of the bandits. Their influence has been negatively impacting the city for a few months now." She grins a twinkling in her eye, “Patron, you say, what sort of chap are you?”
Nimly glances toward the bar, noticing Darian is absent. A few moments later, one of the bar staff arrives with Nimly’s Good Hearth’s Brew. The server sets it down on the table, wiping up an obvious sticky spot before leaving.
Nimly takes a careful sip of the hot drink, feeling the warmth travel down along his arms and torso. He leans against the wall, relishing the immediate effect of relaxation. “Oh, that’s nice… Darian is a great host. I’ve not spent much time in Everlund over the years, but visiting him and the inn has been a feature each time. I can see why you like it here. My patron is an earth elemental. I made a pact with him decades ago and have been a warlock ever since.”
“I specialize in geomancy.” Nimly reaches down and forms a small pickaxe and a faceted gem the size of a potato from the sawdust on the floor. He sets them on the table. “A few weeks ago, my patron bestowed on me a friend and traveling companion, Thorn. He says he likes your music.” Thorn raises his head and meets Lirael’s eyes, clicking his claws on the bar floor.
"Hmm" she says thoughtfully, tracing her finger along the rim of her mug. She looks at Thorn. "Thank you, Thorn." She pulls a berry out of her pockets and tosses it to him. He deftly nabs it out of the air and gives her a toothy grin.
The music shifts into another jig. Nimly wiggles his toes in his boots, looking over to Lirael with a grin. “A dance, you said? My grandma Mossberry taught me every dance she could, while I was living with her for about ten years. I barely escaped with my life. The satyr is starting a bouncy jig, it seems. Shall we?” Nimly stands and offers his hand.
"You are an enchanting fellow, Nimly. This is going to be the end of my break, so yes! Let's dance a jig!" She takes his proffered hand and they step into an open space of the floor. Dancing with an expert partner is thrilling. She keeps in time with Nimly, twirling and stomping her way along the floor.
Close to her ear, Nimly whispers, “Mystery will help both our reputations, I think. At the end of this dance, when our hands last meet, I will turn you Invisible. A bit of fog will appear where you were. I mean it as a gift that your talents deserve. Please take this gem.”
She listens to the offer and a wide smile spreads across her lips. "I love a bit of mystery and I accept your token graciously. I'm sure we will see each other again, Mr. Sparkleshine.
“Once you get in position, toss it into your case.” He squeezes her hand as a smoke cloud illusion pops up around where they stand. He winks and speaks the words of the Invisibility spell, and they vanish as they spin away to their tasks.
Nimly moves back to his table quickly and carefully. He watches for the gem and sees it sail through a sparkling arc into the cittern case. Seeing the cue, he releases his concentration on Invisibility while conjuring a Silent Image ring of smoke around the cittern. The smoke dissipates in a second and reveals Lirael standing there, taking a bow to the hearty applause. She gives Nimly a warm, knowing smile before returning to her musical endeavors.
Nimly heads off to bed with thoughts of rescue on his mind. The hold over Corporal Thorne had been effective. The plan being hatched with his teammates would get those people to safety. A good plan would be the key. He drifts off to sleep.
Intrepid adventurers and DMs, I hope you enjoyed this tale!
May your rolls be critically high or dramatically low, adding flavor and excitement to your campaigns!
Ooooo spicyyyy!!! 🌶️🌶️