Lia's Perspective

[||]
When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 1101 hours F.C.T.
Where: Morinrayne Village.
Who: Lia Lenore, half-orc member of the Morinrayne Guard.

Lia adjusted the strap of her worn leather armor, feeling the familiar weight of her sword at her hip. Her life had been shaped by loss and rescue, the early memories of her parents barely more than fleeting images. Orphaned at a young age, Lia was captured by slavers, her future seemingly bleak until the queen’s royal guard intervened. They rescued her and took her to a royal orphanage run by the queen’s sister. It was there, under the watchful eye of her mentors, that Lia was trained and eventually recruited as a spy.

Two years ago, Lia was sent to Morinrayne with a specific mission: to blend in as a member of the local guard and gather intelligence for the queen. Her cover allowed her to observe and report back any significant developments. The queen had experienced a vision, predicting that something momentous would occur in this village, and Lia was to be the queen’s eyes and ears, ensuring that any threats were identified and neutralized. Additionally, she was tasked with identifying worldwalkers—those newly arrived from other realms—and recruiting them to the queen’s service. At least three had been confirmed to have arrived in the area in the last century, so the odds were good there might be more that would arrive in the area, at least that was the reasoning the queen had given her when she'd assigned her this task.

Leaving magejosh at the gate of Lady Walpole’s manor, Lia promised to return soon. Today’s mission was crucial. She needed to acquire a magical messaging animal spell scroll to send her latest report. It was a more secure means than a courier or messenger spell. She'd run out of the small supply she'd started with when she arrived in town thanks to the odd behaviors of the knight commander Aliester Fordham. She was closing in on having the information she needed to find proof he was connected to the increased slaver and bandit activity on the roads in the region. 'Well, I think I'm close at least. Just need to find my informant when I get more time free from this new worldwalker.'

Her destination was Cyclop’s Prophet, a well-known shop in Morinrayne, owned by the enigmatic tiefling, Vassago Madness, who had started the business with an endowment from his father Belanos Madness the minor human noble from the county capital, Greenhaven. Vassago is known in some circles for his arcane expertise and discretion, making his shop the perfect place for Lia to procure the scroll.

The market was alive with the cacophony of vendors and buyers, a tapestry of colors and sounds. Lia moved through the bustling crowd with practiced ease, her eyes constantly scanning for threats. She slipped between stalls and ducked under canopies, her movements fluid and precise. The Cyclop’s Prophet was a small, nondescript shop nestled in a quiet corner of the market, known only to a select few.

Inside, the shop was dimly lit, filled with the scent of aged parchment and arcane ingredients. Shelves lined with mysterious artifacts and scrolls created a labyrinthine space that seemed designed to disorient. Vassago Madness, the tiefling shopkeeper, looked up from behind the counter as Lia entered, his sharp eyes recognizing her as a member of the local guard.

“Good day, Lia,” he greeted with a nod. “What can I help you with today?”

“I need a magical messaging animal scroll,” Lia replied quietly, glancing around the shop. “And it needs to be safe and reliable.”

Vassago nodded, pointing towards a large bin on a back shelf. “You’ll find what you’re looking for in there, among the lesser scrolls. Take your time.”

Lia made her way towards the bin, her senses alert. As she rounded the aisle, she caught sight of Lord Aliester Fordham entering the shop. The wizard was notorious for his ruthless dealings and dark magic. Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively crouched down behind the aisle, ensuring she remained unseen by activating the magical ring given to her when she completed her training. The magic of the ring silently altered her appearance and gave her an aura of unimportance that subtly influences the senses. She continued to search through the scrolls quietly, her ears straining to catch the conversation between Fordham and Vassago.

“What do you mean, you only have a single vial of mermaid's tears?” Fordham’s voice was a harsh whisper, filled with irritation.

“I’m working on it,” Vassago replied, his tone calm and measured. “But there's a new group out in the swamp and lakeside village of Golden Glade. They’ve disrupted the hunting of the mermaids in the lake.”

“This is the first I’m hearing of this,” Fordham snapped, anger flashing in his eyes. “Why haven’t I been informed about this new group? My people should have reported it.”

“They only recently made their presence known,” Vassago said, his voice soothing. “It's been challenging to gather more mermaid’s tears with them interfering. They seem determined and well-equipped.”

“I don’t care about your excuses,” Fordham growled. “I need those tears for my experiments. Make it happen, or there will be consequences. I’ll deal with this new group personally and ensure my operations continue smoothly.”

Lia’s mind raced. The mention of mermaid’s tears was both intriguing and worrying. She knew that such a powerful reagent in the hands of someone like Fordham could spell disaster. She continued to listen, piecing together the information that could be crucial for her report.

---

After a tense few minutes, Fordham finally left the shop, his dark cloak billowing behind him. Lia waited a few moments to ensure Fordham was gone, then resumed her search for the scrolls. She found the one she needed and decided to purchase a second one for backup, knowing the importance of her communications.

She approached Vassago, placing the scrolls on the counter. He wrapped them carefully and handed them over without further questions, his expression neutral and professional. Lia paid for the scrolls and nodded her thanks before slipping out of the shop.

Back in the bustling market, every step away from the Cyclop’s Prophet felt like a victory, her pulse quickening as she navigated the winding streets. The noise and chaos provided cover, but Lia remained vigilant, her senses heightened. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, every shadow a potential threat.

She took a loop around another street at a measured pace, turning a corner and jogging ahead to an alleyway that would allow her to cut back to the direction she actually wanted to go. But as she turned onto the street back to Lady Walpole's Manor, she bumped into a stout human in a plain cotton tunic and pants. He smiled at her, "Trying to lose a tail, Lea? I thought you had the day off." The bassy rumble of her partner in the guard, Roscoe Jenkins, said with a bit of humor in his tone and written clearly on his face.

"What are you doing here following me around the market and giving me the spooks?" Lia replied with one of those sibling like looks one gives when they wish their sibling would drop dead in front of them.

He laughed harder at the look she was making and said, "I was heading to grab something for Sirin, when I saw you coming out of that smuggler's shop after Sir Aliester had, and I couldn't help but mess with you." And as he finished that he grabbed for the scrolls he'd seen her stuffing into her armor and started to unravel them.

"Hey, not for you!" She snapped and grabbed them back from him.

"No problem, just messing with you partner, no need to get mean. Have you not eaten yet today?" He asked her as they stepped out of the way of a merchant with a cart loaded and drawn by a large horse. The horse dropped a particularly odiferous supply of natural fertilizer and the both of them turned their noses at it and stepped back into the alleyway.

After moving back far enough their eyes weren't watering anymore Lia said, "I had a couple box burgers in fact. But, I was just flustered and trying to catch back up with our new friend from yesterday."

Roscoe raised an eyebrow, "Really, I hope Tomas doesn't get jealous."

Lia sighed, "You and me both, I like him but he doesn't own me. I've got to get going anyways, it was good to see you though partner, I'll see you tomorrow at morning inspection."

Roscoe smiled and said, "Yes, I need to finish my task as well, see you then friend." And with that they parted ways.

Lia made her way back towards Lady Walpole’s manor, where she had left magejosh. The weight of her discoveries pressed heavily on her, but she knew she had done her duty. Her next step was to resume her cover as a loyal town guard, waiting for magejosh to return from the dungeon beneath the manor.

When Lia reached the manor, she was greeted by one of the servants and after enquiring as to the whereabouts of magejosh she is escorted to a sitting room where Lady Walpole was already waiting.

The room was grand, filled with elegant furniture and the subtle scent of fresh flowers. Lady Walpole sat gracefully in an armchair, her expression calm but her eyes sharp with curiosity. She waved to a chair nearby in a sit down here kind of motion.

"Ah, Lia," Lady Walpole said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I trust your errands were successful?"

Lia expertly hid her surprise, barely. "Yes, my lady," Lia replied, taking a seat across from her. She felt the weight of Lady Walpole's gaze, as if the noblewoman could see right through her. She straightened her posture, thinking, 'She makes me uneasy with that gaze,' but she maintained her composure.

Lady Walpole asked a series of polite but probing questions about Lia's duties and life in Morinrayne. The noblewoman's interest seemed genuine, but Lia couldn't shake the feeling that every word she said was being carefully analyzed. Despite the discomfort, she answered each question with the practiced ease of someone well-versed in maintaining their cover.

As the minutes ticked by, Lia's thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation she had overheard between Fordham and Vassago. The implications of Fordham's plans and the mysterious new group in Golden Glade weighed heavily on her mind. She wondered what magejosh was uncovering in the dungeon and whether his findings would intersect with her own discoveries.

Lady Walpole's questions eventually turned more personal, touching on Lia's background and how she had come to serve in the village guard. Lia answered as truthfully as her cover allowed, mentioning her dedication to her duty and the sense of purpose it gave her.

"Morinrayne is fortunate to have such a dedicated guard," Lady Walpole said, her tone approving. "I trust you will continue to serve with the same diligence."

Lia nodded, feeling a mix of relief and continued tension. The conversation had been taxing, but it was a necessary part of maintaining her cover.

As they waited for magejosh's return, Lady Walpole leaned forward in her chair, her eyes glinting with an otherworldly intensity. "I must admit, Lia, I am curious about the new group you've been investigating," she said, her voice low and husky. "What do you know of them?"

Lia hesitated for a moment before answering, choosing her words carefully. "They are a group of travelers who have arrived in Morinrayne recently," she replied. "I don't know much about them beyond their intentions."

Lady Walpole nodded thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving Lia's face. "I see," she said. "Well, I hope you will continue to learn more about them as you investigate further."

As the minutes ticked by, Lady Walpole's gaze seemed to bore into Lia's very soul, as if searching for something hidden deep within her. Lia felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized that Lady Walpole was not just a noblewoman seeking information - she was also a witch, and her true intentions were far from pure.

For now, Lia would play along, pretending to be unaware of the subtle manipulations at play around her. But deep down, she knew that Lady Walpole's words held more truth than she could ever have imagined.

Lia's expression remained neutral, a carefully crafted mask to conceal the turmoil brewing beneath. She had always been one to observe and learn, never once rebelling against the expectations placed upon her.

magejosh in the Dungeon

[|*|]
When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 1151 hours F.C.T.
Where: In a dungeon below a strange undercity deep below Lady Walpole's Manor in Morinrayne Village.
Who: Our lovable protagonist magejosh.

---

The air grew colder as magejosh descended deeper into the dungeon beneath Lady Walpole’s manor. The chill was not just physical but seemed to seep into his very bones, an oppressive weight that pressed down with each step. He could see his breath in the air, faint wisps of vapor swirling and dissipating in the dim light. The narrow stone corridors felt like a labyrinth, the walls closing in, their surfaces slick with condensation and something darker, an ancient grime that spoke of years of neglect and hidden secrets.

Each footfall was an echo, a lonely sound that reverberated off the damp stone, amplifying the silence that enveloped him. The silence was occasionally broken by the distant drip of water, a rhythmic reminder of the subterranean world he was now part of. The flickering torchlight cast long, eerie shadows, making the grotesque carvings on the walls seem to come alive. These carvings depicted scenes of ancient rituals, battles, and figures long forgotten by time, their eyes seemingly following magejosh as he moved past them.

magejosh paused to catch his breath, his senses heightened. His eyes scanned the dimly lit passage ahead, every shadow a potential threat, every sound a possible warning. The further he ventured, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. It was as if the dungeon itself was a living entity, aware of his presence, watching and waiting. He could sense the presence of traps, the air tinged with a faint magical aura that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He activated his sling sparks cantrip, a simple yet effective spell that sent a small, controlled burst of sparks ahead of him. The corridor lit up momentarily, revealing a thin tripwire stretched across the floor, almost invisible in the dim light. The sparks danced off the stone walls, casting brief, bright reflections off the wire before fading back into darkness. The sight of the tripwire confirmed his suspicions about the dangers that lay ahead.

Carefully, magejosh approached the trap. He knelt down, examining the mechanism with a practiced eye. The tripwire was connected to a series of small, delicate gears and pulleys, designed to trigger something deadly. He reached into his pouch, pulling out a set of finely crafted tools. With steady hands, he began to disarm the trap, his fingers moving with precision and care. Each movement was deliberate, every touch calculated to avoid setting off the mechanism.

As he worked, he could feel the dungeon's silence pressing in on him, the weight of the stone above and around a constant reminder of the dangers of his environment. The musty air carried the faint, almost imperceptible scent of decay, a grim hint of what might await those who failed to navigate its hazards. Finally, with a soft click, he cut the wire, releasing the tension without triggering the trap. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his trousers.

He moved forward cautiously, every sense on high alert. The next section of the corridor presented a different challenge: a pressure plate embedded in the floor. The plate was almost flush with the surrounding stones, its edges barely visible. magejosh paused, studying it carefully. He had encountered such traps before and knew that triggering it could release anything from poisoned darts to collapsing ceilings.

He retrieved a small bag of sand from his pouch, sprinkling a thin layer over the pressure plate. The grains settled, revealing the plate’s true dimensions. He stepped gingerly around it, placing his feet with the utmost care. As he moved, his foot brushed against the edge, triggering the mechanism. He heard a faint whirring sound, the prelude to something deadly.

In an instant, a rapid-fire dart shooter concealed in the walls activated, a series of small, deadly projectiles launching towards him. magejosh reacted on instinct, throwing himself to the ground and rolling to the side. He felt the rush of air as the darts flew past, narrowly missing him. One dart, however, nicked his leg, leaving a shallow cut. The pain was immediate, a sharp reminder of the dungeon's lethal defenses.

Grimacing, magejosh quickly cast Cure Wounds, feeling the magical energy flow through him. The wound closed, the pain receding as the flesh knitted back together. He couldn't afford to be reckless with his healing spells, knowing he needed to conserve his magical energy for the challenges that lay ahead.

Deeper into the dungeon, he encountered a room filled with ancient, rotting furniture and shelves lined with dusty tomes and peculiar artifacts. The room had an air of abandonment, as if it had been untouched for centuries. He stepped carefully, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger. As he inspected one of the books, a hidden mechanism activated, and a swarm of arrows shot out from the walls.

magejosh reacted swiftly, using his batons to deflect some of the arrows. Despite his efforts, one arrow grazed his arm, leaving a shallow cut. He hissed in pain but pressed on, knowing he couldn't afford to stop. The books and artifacts in the room were fascinating, each one potentially holding secrets or traps. He moved with caution, his curiosity tempered by the need for survival.

The air grew thicker with the scent of mildew and something more sinister, a dark magic that seemed to seep from the very stones. magejosh’s senses were on high alert as he navigated through the oppressive atmosphere. The corridors twisted and turned, each corner hiding potential threats. He moved slowly, his every sense focused on detecting traps and enemies.

After what felt like hours, magejosh reached a set of massive, ornately carved doors. They were covered in intricate symbols that glowed faintly in the torchlight. He knew instinctively that this was the entrance to the dungeon boss’s chamber. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the confrontation ahead. He checked his equipment one last time, ensuring his magical supplies were ready, his two collapsible steel batons were secure, and his 9mm pistol was loaded. With a final moment of preparation, he pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the chamber.

The sight that greeted him was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. At the center of the room stood a kobold shaman, his eyes glowing with dark power. The shaman’s troll-blood enhanced his strength and magical abilities, making him a formidable opponent. Surrounding him were a band of fierce kobold warriors, each one more menacing than the last. magejosh could feel the weight of their malevolent presence, a dark aura that filled the chamber.

The shaman began to chant, summoning ancestral spirits to aid him in the battle. The air crackled with energy as ghostly figures materialized, their hollow eyes fixed on magejosh. The shaman’s voice echoed through the chamber, a low, guttural sound that sent chills down magejosh’s spine.

The battle commenced with a fury that took magejosh by surprise. The kobold warriors charged at him, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. magejosh moved swiftly, his magic and combat skills allowing him to stay one step ahead of his foes. He cast spells to deflect their attacks, his fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air. His pistol barked loudly, the shots echoing off the stone walls as he aimed for the kobold warriors. Each shot was precise, taking down one enemy after another, but he was acutely aware of his limited ammunition.

In the heat of the battle, magejosh felt the sting of a kobold’s arrow piercing his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he used his baton to fend off another attacker while casting Cure Wounds on himself, the magical energy numbing the pain and sealing the wound. He couldn’t afford to be reckless with his healing spells, knowing he needed to conserve his magical energy for the fierce battle ahead.

magejosh’s tactical thinking came into play as he utilized his martial arts training. He spun his batons, deflecting attacks and landing precise blows that incapacitated his enemies. He combined his physical prowess with his sling sparks cantrip, disorienting the kobolds with bursts of light and heat.

But the shaman’s power was formidable. He used his blood to heal his warriors and enhance their strength, making them even more dangerous. The ancestral spirits circled magejosh, their ghostly hands reaching out to drain his energy. magejosh felt a moment of despair, the weight of the battle pressing down on him.

Then he remembered the cat that had inexplicably followed him into the dungeon. It darted around the chamber, dodging attacks with an agility that seemed almost supernatural. magejosh drew strength from the cat’s resilience, using it as a reminder of what he was fighting for.

With renewed determination, magejosh focused his attacks on the shaman. He disrupted the shaman’s spells with counter-magic, his eyes fixed on the glowing symbols that indicated weak points. He moved with precision, dodging the ancestral spirits and cutting down the remaining warriors. The shaman’s chants grew more frantic as magejosh closed in, the dark energy crackling around them.

With a final, decisive strike, magejosh defeated the shaman. The dark energy dissipated, and the ancestral spirits faded into nothingness. The chamber fell silent, the oppressive atmosphere lifting as magejosh stood victorious. He took a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

After ensuring the room was safe, magejosh noticed a hidden door behind the shaman’s altar. Pushing it open, he discovered the treasure room, filled with gold, jewels, and magical artifacts. The treasures sparkled in the dim light, a stark contrast to the dark chamber he had just left. He carefully selected the most useful items, knowing they would be crucial for the challenges that lay ahead. Among the treasures, he found enchanted scrolls and a peculiar amulet that pulsed with magical energy.

With the treasures secured and the cat safely in his arms, magejosh retraced his steps through the dungeon. The journey back felt longer and more perilous than it had before, as he remained vigilant for any lingering traps or ambushes. He emerged into the familiar basements of Lady Walpole’s manor, feeling a surge of relief.

After a short bit of time getting turned around and lost navigating back out of the basements, he gratefully rung the silver bell hanging from the door into the basements. Gerrald was along momentarily and raised an eyebrow at the sight of magejosh holding the cat close to his chest.

---

[|*|]
When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 1251 hours F.C.T.
Where: In Lady Walpole's Manor in Morinrayne Village.
Who: Our lovable protagonist magejosh.

---

magejosh found Lady Walpole and Lia waiting in the sitting room, their faces a mix of relief and curiosity. He laid out one of the treasures he'd found on the table, recounting the harrowing events of the dungeon. His voice was steady, but the gravity of his discoveries was clear.

“There’s something dark and dangerous beneath this manor,” he warned, his eyes meeting Lady Walpole’s. “I'd wager you need to be prepared for whatever comes next. I can't even begin to describe the heebie-jeebie to the max-level vibes that strange undercity with its eerie green flickering lights and uncanny architectures gave me. I only followed your cat into that one doorway. There could be more dungeons full of monsters down there.”

Lady Walpole nodded, her expression serious. “We will do whatever is necessary to protect Morinrayne. Your bravery and skill are commendable, magejosh. I shall make sure the guild gives you a bonus for your efforts above and beyond the call of the job given to you.”

Lia sat with Lady Walpole, her gaze steady and resolute, embodying an unwavering strength amid the encroaching shadows that seemed to breathe with a life of their own. The room, dimly lit by flickering candles, was steeped in an air of antiquity, the heavy scent of old books and polished wood lending a sense of gravitas to the moment. magejosh's account of his journey through the dungeon below the manor was received in a profound silence, each word hanging in the air, laden with the weight of ancient secrets and the promise of impending action.

"magejosh," Lia spoke, her voice a harmonious blend of gravitas and urgency, "this discovery changes everything. We must report to the guild immediately. Your findings need to be sworn upon in a zone of truth spell to ensure their veracity and significance." Her words resonated with the combined wisdom of countless battles faced and truths uncovered, a reflection of her duty to both her queen and the village of Morinrayne.

Lady Walpole, her expression serious and contemplative, nodded in agreement. "The depths of this manor have harbored secrets long as the walls have stood here, and many of them must be kept. But I know nothing of the undercity, or dungeons in it. The guild must be informed, and preparations must be made to confront whatever malevolent forces lie beneath."

The atmosphere in the room grew more intense, each character's determination clear in their eyes. magejosh felt the weight of their expectations, but also their trust. He knew the significance of his role and the dangers that awaited them all.

As they rose to leave, the shadows seemed to shift, a subtle reminder of the lurking threats. The manor, with its storied past and hidden depths, was now at the center of a brewing storm that demanded courage, wisdom, and unyielding resolve.

---

Outside, the midday sun shone brightly, casting long shadows on the cobbled streets of Morinrayne. The village, bathed in the warm light, seemed at odds with the dark revelations of the dungeon below. Lia led the way, her steps purposeful and confident, cutting through the bustling streets like a beacon of resolve. magejosh followed closely, his mind racing with thoughts of the dungeon's secrets and the tasks ahead. Lady Walpole, bringing up the rear, moved with a quiet dignity, her presence a steadying force. Gerrald moved silently at her side, watching the surroundings as they moved down the street, ready to throw himself between his Lady and any danger he sees.

As they approached the guildhall of the Morinrayne Adventurer's Guild for the second time today, (well, two of them), the ancient structure loomed large, its stone walls and towering spires standing resolute under the clear sky. The building, a testament to the village's enduring spirit and resilience, stood as a silent guardian of its people.

Within the guildhall, the atmosphere was tense but focused. The members, seasoned warriors, mages, and scholars, gathered quickly upon their arrival, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. Lia's report was brief but thorough, each detail meticulously relayed to ensure that no aspect of magejosh's discovery was overlooked.

The guildmaster, a figure of authority and wisdom, listened intently, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "magejosh," he said finally, "you will swear upon your findings in the zone of truth. We must understand the full extent of the danger we face and prepare accordingly."

magejosh stepped forward, his resolve unwavering. As the spell was cast, a shimmering circle of light enveloped him, its ethereal glow a stark contrast to the dark realities of the dungeon below. He recounted his journey once more, his words now bound by the unbreakable chains of truth. He pulled out his phone to show them a short video he took of the strange undercity and the outside of the dungeon, "Take a look at this, made sure to take a video when before I came back upstairs so I could show it."

When he finished, the guildhall was silent, the weight of his revelations settling over them like a heavy fog. The guildmaster spoke again, his voice steady but charged with urgency. "We have much to prepare for. The darkness beneath Lady Walpole's manor is but a part of a greater threat. We must act swiftly and decisively."

---

Lia and magejosh exited the guildhall, each lost in their thoughts. Although their paths aligned for the moment, their minds already diverged towards separate destinations.

For Lia, the road led directly to Morinrayne. A village steeped in history and shrouded in secrets, it had always been a beacon of strength and defiance. Now, darkness gathered at its edges, and its protectors were needed more than ever.

magejosh's thoughts, however, remained firmly rooted in the present. Having unburdened himself of the guild's problems, his own priorities resurfaced. He still required a crafter or mage for a specific task—or perhaps a simple scroll or wand to duplicate items would suffice.

As they walked side by side under the afternoon sun, each lost in their own thoughts, their sense of purpose deepened. Each step they took was a step towards unveiling the secrets lurking in the darkness, a step closer to confronting the evil that threatened their world. Yet, beneath the outward unity, two distinct paths emerged, each leading to its own unique challenges and revelations. In the heart of Morinrayne, amid its twisting alleys and ancient stones, a new chapter was beginning—one of bravery, discovery, and unyielding resolve.