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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 7508083" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>INTERLUDE: MEMORIES OF INGEBOLD</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster:</p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Finoula Cloudshadow, elf ranger 15</p><p></p><p>Game Session Date: 13 October 2018</p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>The Kordovians had scattered their separate ways the next morning, to pick up various goods. Binkadink went to a magic shop to commission the creation of a magical saddle for his jackalope riding mount, Obvious, after having purchased a set of magical bracers he'd been guaranteed would work as well on a quadruped as it would on the gnome himself. Gilbert Fung picked up some replacement scrolls for those he'd recently used. Hagan wanted to pick up a few healing potions; after all, it was always best to be able to heal oneself rather than rely upon the availability of someone capable of casting healing spells - and this was especially true as they now relied upon Malrin, who was much less experienced than had been Ingebold, and MARCI, a strange construct who generally waited on Gilbert Fung's orders to heal anybody else but the portly mage.</p><p></p><p>Finoula, however, never did get around to her own purchases, for out of the corner of her eye in the busy marketplace she saw someone who seemed exceedingly familiar. Turning to face the stranger, the elf suppressed a gasp of astonishment - for there, across the busy marketplace crowd, she could swear she saw Ingebold Battershield.</p><p></p><p>Ingebold turned and walked away; Finoula, intrigued at the sudden appearance of her slain Battle-Sister, hurried through the crowd to try to catch her. "Ingebold!" she cried out, but the dwarven woman ignored her, pushing her way past clumps of people. Finoula followed as best she could but never seemed to gain upon the dwarf.</p><p></p><p>Finally, Ingebold turned a corner and by the time Finoula caught up to where she'd last been, Ingebold was nowhere in sight. Frustrated, Finoula looked this way and that, down three different streets veering away from the corner intersection, but there was no sign of the dwarf.</p><p></p><p>Finoula sighed heavily. And then a door in the building before her opened up, and an elderly dwarf in dark robes stood there, gazing at her. It was only then that Finoula realized the woman who looked like Ingebold had led her directly to the Greyhawk City Temple of Moradin.</p><p></p><p>"I know ye not, havin' ne'er set eyes upon ye in me life," said the elderly dwarf. "But I know this: ye be Finoula Cloudshadow, who once slew a good dwarf woman by th' name've Ingebold Battershield, who were then returned to life only t'be lost agin f'revermore. Be this true?"</p><p></p><p>Finoula swallowed before answering. "It--it is true," she admitted.</p><p></p><p>"Me name be <strong>Ulik Ironbeard</strong>," the dwarf said by way of introduction. "I'm a cleric in this temple, an' I've had me a vision this very mornin', about ye, and about this Ingebold. Will ye come in?" Finoula entered the building and Ulik closed the door behind her. He ushered her into the worship hall, at the back of which stood the holy symbol of the Dwarflord: a metal anvil the size of a kitchen table.</p><p></p><p>"Ingebold, alas, be lost t' th' world forever," Ulik explained. "But there be a way t' bring a part of her - a wee part, mind ye - back t' th' world of th' living. If ye'd see such a thing be, then hop ye up onto yon anvil, and pass me yer sword."</p><p></p><p>Finoula hesitated but a moment, then unbuckled her sword-belt and passed it to Ulik. She then scooted up onto the anvil, which was as hard and unforgiving as it looked.</p><p></p><p>"Lie ye back," Ulik advised, drawing <em>Tahlmalaera</em> from its scabbard. Finoula did as instructed, lying upon her back with her hands at her sides. A part of her wanted to race out of the otherwise empty temple, fearing this might be some sort of retribution for the slaying of her Battle-Sister, but another part of her was willing to take whatever chance might be necessary to help bring a part of Ingebold back. For how could she ever again face Aerik and Helga, Ingebold's parents, if she didn't take this opportunity? With a deep breath, Finoula closed her eyes and awaited what would happen next.</p><p></p><p>"Think ye back upon yer Battle-Sister," advised Ulik. "Remember the happy times, the times spent together." As the elf's lips curled into a smile at the thoughts of her time spent adventuring with the dwarven cleric, Ulik raised the longsword above the prone ranger - and plunged the tip of the blade directly into Finoula's forehead.</p><p></p><p><em>Tahlmalaera</em> stabbed deep through Finoula's skull, coming out the other end and sinking deep into the anvil below. But there was no blood and no pain - Finoula, with her eyes closed, didn't even feel the passing of the blade through her head.</p><p></p><p>"This be a <em>variable energy blade</em>," Ulik said, "an' one o' fine craftsmanship. I seen th' type before – ye can channel spells into th' blade and alter its abilities. Upon th' direction o' me god this mornin', I've channeled a <em>miracle</em> spell through yer blade. Now lie ye there quietly an' reminisce on yer Battle-Sister."</p><p></p><p>Finoula did so, oblivious of all but her memories of her friend. After several minutes, Ulik pulled <em>Tahlmalaera</em> from the ranger's forehead. "It be done," he said, helping Finoula sit back up on the anvil. He sheathed the longsword and handed the belt and scabbard back to the elf, who hopped down from the Anvil of Moradin and strapped her sword-belt back around her hips.</p><p></p><p>"Go now, an' continue t' do good works in th' world," Ulik commanded, placing a hand upon Finoula's silvery locks in benediction. "An' know ye that yer Battle-Sister will always be with ye, in spirit if naught else." He led Finoula back to the front doors of the temple, where he bid her farewell.</p><p></p><p>Finoula would not have felt right drawing her blade inside the temple of Moradin, but now that she stood outside on the street she did so. <em>Tahlmalaera</em> felt no different in her hand, but the elf immediately felt a presence in her mind, as the sword telepathically spoke to her - in quite the same manner as Malaterminus had, these years ago, Finoula thought with a shudder.</p><p></p><p>But the voice inside her head was not that of the incubus she'd since slain in his own den of vice. This voice was warm, welcoming - and quite familiar. <Hello, me Battle-Sister!> said the mental construct now resident inside Finoula's magical blade. <I've missed ye!></p><p></p><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>As a result of this <em>miracle</em> spell, <em>Tahlmalaera</em> now has the following additional properties:</p><ul> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><em>Tahlmalaera</em> now has a rudimentary intelligence, based on the memories of Ingebold Battershield. The sword can communicate telepathically to Finoula (and to her only). The intelligence knows it is an artificial construct of Ingebold's intellect and thus has no desires (or hopes) of ever being "restored" to life.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">Once per day, the sword's wielder can cast a <em>heal</em> spell through the blade.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">When being actively wielded (not just carried), the sword gives the wielder a second Will save against magical effects if the first one fails.</li> </ul><p>- - -</p><p></p><p>T-Shirt Worn: My Einstein shirt, as it tied into the adventure that followed this quick interlude.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 7508083, member: 508"] [B]INTERLUDE: MEMORIES OF INGEBOLD[/B] PC Roster: [INDENT]Finoula Cloudshadow, elf ranger 15[/INDENT] Game Session Date: 13 October 2018 - - - The Kordovians had scattered their separate ways the next morning, to pick up various goods. Binkadink went to a magic shop to commission the creation of a magical saddle for his jackalope riding mount, Obvious, after having purchased a set of magical bracers he'd been guaranteed would work as well on a quadruped as it would on the gnome himself. Gilbert Fung picked up some replacement scrolls for those he'd recently used. Hagan wanted to pick up a few healing potions; after all, it was always best to be able to heal oneself rather than rely upon the availability of someone capable of casting healing spells - and this was especially true as they now relied upon Malrin, who was much less experienced than had been Ingebold, and MARCI, a strange construct who generally waited on Gilbert Fung's orders to heal anybody else but the portly mage. Finoula, however, never did get around to her own purchases, for out of the corner of her eye in the busy marketplace she saw someone who seemed exceedingly familiar. Turning to face the stranger, the elf suppressed a gasp of astonishment - for there, across the busy marketplace crowd, she could swear she saw Ingebold Battershield. Ingebold turned and walked away; Finoula, intrigued at the sudden appearance of her slain Battle-Sister, hurried through the crowd to try to catch her. "Ingebold!" she cried out, but the dwarven woman ignored her, pushing her way past clumps of people. Finoula followed as best she could but never seemed to gain upon the dwarf. Finally, Ingebold turned a corner and by the time Finoula caught up to where she'd last been, Ingebold was nowhere in sight. Frustrated, Finoula looked this way and that, down three different streets veering away from the corner intersection, but there was no sign of the dwarf. Finoula sighed heavily. And then a door in the building before her opened up, and an elderly dwarf in dark robes stood there, gazing at her. It was only then that Finoula realized the woman who looked like Ingebold had led her directly to the Greyhawk City Temple of Moradin. "I know ye not, havin' ne'er set eyes upon ye in me life," said the elderly dwarf. "But I know this: ye be Finoula Cloudshadow, who once slew a good dwarf woman by th' name've Ingebold Battershield, who were then returned to life only t'be lost agin f'revermore. Be this true?" Finoula swallowed before answering. "It--it is true," she admitted. "Me name be [B]Ulik Ironbeard[/B]," the dwarf said by way of introduction. "I'm a cleric in this temple, an' I've had me a vision this very mornin', about ye, and about this Ingebold. Will ye come in?" Finoula entered the building and Ulik closed the door behind her. He ushered her into the worship hall, at the back of which stood the holy symbol of the Dwarflord: a metal anvil the size of a kitchen table. "Ingebold, alas, be lost t' th' world forever," Ulik explained. "But there be a way t' bring a part of her - a wee part, mind ye - back t' th' world of th' living. If ye'd see such a thing be, then hop ye up onto yon anvil, and pass me yer sword." Finoula hesitated but a moment, then unbuckled her sword-belt and passed it to Ulik. She then scooted up onto the anvil, which was as hard and unforgiving as it looked. "Lie ye back," Ulik advised, drawing [I]Tahlmalaera[/I] from its scabbard. Finoula did as instructed, lying upon her back with her hands at her sides. A part of her wanted to race out of the otherwise empty temple, fearing this might be some sort of retribution for the slaying of her Battle-Sister, but another part of her was willing to take whatever chance might be necessary to help bring a part of Ingebold back. For how could she ever again face Aerik and Helga, Ingebold's parents, if she didn't take this opportunity? With a deep breath, Finoula closed her eyes and awaited what would happen next. "Think ye back upon yer Battle-Sister," advised Ulik. "Remember the happy times, the times spent together." As the elf's lips curled into a smile at the thoughts of her time spent adventuring with the dwarven cleric, Ulik raised the longsword above the prone ranger - and plunged the tip of the blade directly into Finoula's forehead. [I]Tahlmalaera[/I] stabbed deep through Finoula's skull, coming out the other end and sinking deep into the anvil below. But there was no blood and no pain - Finoula, with her eyes closed, didn't even feel the passing of the blade through her head. "This be a [I]variable energy blade[/I]," Ulik said, "an' one o' fine craftsmanship. I seen th' type before – ye can channel spells into th' blade and alter its abilities. Upon th' direction o' me god this mornin', I've channeled a [I]miracle[/I] spell through yer blade. Now lie ye there quietly an' reminisce on yer Battle-Sister." Finoula did so, oblivious of all but her memories of her friend. After several minutes, Ulik pulled [I]Tahlmalaera[/I] from the ranger's forehead. "It be done," he said, helping Finoula sit back up on the anvil. He sheathed the longsword and handed the belt and scabbard back to the elf, who hopped down from the Anvil of Moradin and strapped her sword-belt back around her hips. "Go now, an' continue t' do good works in th' world," Ulik commanded, placing a hand upon Finoula's silvery locks in benediction. "An' know ye that yer Battle-Sister will always be with ye, in spirit if naught else." He led Finoula back to the front doors of the temple, where he bid her farewell. Finoula would not have felt right drawing her blade inside the temple of Moradin, but now that she stood outside on the street she did so. [I]Tahlmalaera[/I] felt no different in her hand, but the elf immediately felt a presence in her mind, as the sword telepathically spoke to her - in quite the same manner as Malaterminus had, these years ago, Finoula thought with a shudder. But the voice inside her head was not that of the incubus she'd since slain in his own den of vice. This voice was warm, welcoming - and quite familiar. <Hello, me Battle-Sister!> said the mental construct now resident inside Finoula's magical blade. <I've missed ye!> - - - As a result of this [I]miracle[/I] spell, [I]Tahlmalaera[/I] now has the following additional properties: [LIST] [*][I]Tahlmalaera[/I] now has a rudimentary intelligence, based on the memories of Ingebold Battershield. The sword can communicate telepathically to Finoula (and to her only). The intelligence knows it is an artificial construct of Ingebold's intellect and thus has no desires (or hopes) of ever being "restored" to life. [*]Once per day, the sword's wielder can cast a [I]heal[/I] spell through the blade. [*]When being actively wielded (not just carried), the sword gives the wielder a second Will save against magical effects if the first one fails. [/LIST] - - - T-Shirt Worn: My Einstein shirt, as it tied into the adventure that followed this quick interlude. [/QUOTE]
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