wildestlogs | HOME SWEET HOME

HOME SWEET HOME

Elrond let the gang decide when to leave, providing hospitality and medical care until they're ready. When the quest calls to them and they know it'll tug them along soon, he makes sure each is fully supplied and armed with weapons of their choosing, some custom made. They each have a pack, food supplies, and extra clothing. All of them get offered sturdy boots, even those who have stranger body types like Filbo.

He gives the group four copies of a book transcribed with the prophecies that had been brought to Rivendell, to be studied and interpreted on their journey.

Those who mentioned knowledge of the One Ring are briefly pulled aside away from the guests at Elrond's Council. They're implored to keep it secret, for the knowledge of Frodo's task could lead to people trying to steal the Ring when he's on a journey to destroy it.

Crowley is also released from the dungeon, with Elrond apologizing for the Elves' caution. It's at least clear he's been shown some of the same hospitality. He's healed up, well fed, and clothed in replacement clothes just like they all are.

Elrond's final goodbye to the whole group is warm and genuine.

"Namárië. It is a word we use for greetings and goodbyes. It means 'be well.' Whether you seek to help this world or try to find a way home, it is our hope that whatever paths you tread fly beneath your feet, and whatever obstacles you face are quickly overcome."

A pause.

"It would be easy to try to make you feel that the hopes of those in this new world go with you; but such burdens should only be carried by those who choose it. The Green will not admit it, but they have done you a great wrong. If you try to only find your way home, it's justified, and I hope you do find it."

Yes, there are prophecies, but making people do something by force is wrong, and all weary travelers deserve to find their way home. After a brief time of saying any goodbyes, they get to make their way to the other side of the valley. On the other side of the pass is the castle the Green spoke about.

The castle is a Frankenstein monstrosity that seems cobbled together from many buildings and machines. The second the last of the gang piles inside, it starts moving, massive legs clanking along. But where it's going is unknown. At least that means they have time to explore, rest, and get settled.

There are many mystical objects and mysteries within. One half of the castle seems to be a strange frozen realm of faerie, with strange sights to explore. But even the warmer side of the castle has its oddities. Magic waterfalls that show memories, and a scrying pool that shows frozen images of home, locked to the times each member of the squad left theirs. There are magical doors that lead to sights beyond the imagination, strange collections and even entire small realms, some beautiful, some dangerous.

The three magical creatures, Jonald, Ronald, and Rolkien constantly get underfoot trying to get the group settled, but refuse to talk about their former master, seemingly hurt at his leaving the castle.

The castle also seems to like assigning roommates for some of the group, making it so doors only open to their assigned room anytime they try to go to a place to sleep, even teleporting to them to the room if they fall asleep elsewhere.

It's a strange place, sometimes dangerous, sometimes annoying, but at least they have even more time to rest, train, plan, and prepare. They will have a few weeks to adjust to their new normal.

Then...who knows where the road will take them.
OOC DETAILS
❧ Prompts. The mods aren't doing prompts, but players can check out the page on the Moving castle for inspiration. The castle has many mysteries and oddities and absolutely anything can be behind the magical doors.

❧ Food and water. The castle seems to have an internal pressurized water supply and food is plentiful...for now. The food supply will not last forever but some food was left behind by the castle's previous occupants. There there's enough for a long break without hunting. There is some fresh food that's rotten and needs to be thrown away but whoever lived here clearly knew how to keep food prepared. There are cooking oils, flour, and sugar for bread and baked goods. There is jerky of various types of meats, dried fruit, sun-dried tomatoes, stores of nuts, jars of preserved fruit and jams (and empty jars to make more), and hard cheeses that need only a little mold cut off them to still be edible. Some of the jars have confit, meat cooked and preserved in lard, or garlic preserved in oil. A small root cellar has a few barrels of potatoes, parsnips, and onions.

It also has some barrels of beer and bottles of wine.

There are also dried herbs hanging in bundles from the kitchen ceiling, jarred pickled vegetables, and vinegar for pickling more. There are also fresh veggies the group can harvest together. The gardens will not be infinite in supplying the group but luck has it that many vegetables are ripe for harvest right now. The squad can pick juicy tomatoes, green beans, peppers, carrots, radishes, blackberries from a small thicket, squash, and plenty of zucchini. The garden does need tending to stay healthy. Aside from harvesting from it, weeds need to be pulled, beans and tomatoes need to be trellised, spoiled veggies on the ground need to be tossed away.

❧ Bathing. There is no soap other than what the Elves may have given them but there are hot baths. The water has to be heated on a fire down the hall and carried to the tubs.

❧ Weather/Atmosphere: The air outside and inside is on the warmer side. Even though the stone is cool, the cooking fires warm the air to something comfortable. The air outside in the gardens is warm and sunny, with the occasional cool breeze due to the altitude.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a deep urge to sweep past her without saying anything further, to slap away the hand extended for no reason other than that it's technically entering his personal space. But there's one rule that's stood Raistlin in good stead since he was eighteen, and it applies now: don't make enemies for no reason.

"I am uncertain," he says, ignoring her offer. "I've been unable to summon anything past the last moment I remember. Perhaps you'll have more luck."

Has he seen this one before? He wracks his brain, trying to remember if he's been told her name.

"I guess I'll be able to tell if everyone has the same haircut as I remember," Stacia says with a shrug. She'll snag his sleeve if he still tries to leave, but otherwise she'll stick to words and bodily proximity. "Here, tell me how this thing works, the closest thing to scrying I know about is how to track people and I can't even do that right now unless I've given them a good sniff."

Bodily proximity is alarming enough, frankly. He takes a subtle step backwards to put her on the absolute edge of polite distance as he nods towards the scrying pool.

"Stand at the edge and concentrate on what you wish to see," he tells her. "In my experience with such devices in my own home world, verbalizing your intent can help."

"Yeah, we're not big on verbalizing intent," Stacia says, peering into the pool. "I've got some fun tricks that do involve talking, but definitely not me telling people what I want."

Never the less, she straightens her shoulders and adjusts her mindset, from friendly refusal to let someone politely slip away to one of willing something into reality.

"Show me my sister Mila," she says levelly, and the scrying pool obliges. The woman reflected in the pool indeed looks similar to Stacia, but in her late twenties rather than Stacia's late teens. Her brown hair is twisted up in a clip, off her face and the back of her neck, and she's staring at a small rectangular object in one of her hands, with the fingers of the other resting on its surface. Stacia sighs.

"I forgot, she always wears her hair wadded up like that unless it's a special occasion. Ugh, so much for figuring it out through hair styles."

Raistlin was going to make his exit, but the device in the woman's hand grabs his attention.

"What is that?" He points with the butt of his staff. "Does it help decipher when the image is taking place?"

His own vision of Caramon was the last time he remembers seeing Caramon. He had said something, sharply, and his brother had turned, laughing, accepting fault - and then Raistlin had blinked, and been suddenly elsewhere, his brother nowhere in sight.

"That's her phone," Stacia says. "It's a portable tool that allows people to communicate over long distances, and access information that they might not otherwise have on hand."

She's accustomed to explaining things like phones to people who have no concept of them. She taught a Red Talon how to text once, and they're wolf-born werewolves that hate all things human. Bares-His-Fangs had taken delight in sending her strings of poop emoji to indicate his opinion of his new skill.

She squints at it through the pool, wishing she could move the view point around to get a better look.

"The case looks like the one she had when I was home, but that doesn't narrow it down much. She doesn't tend to upgrade her phone unless she has to."

"Phone." Raistlin repeats the peculiar word, disliking the soft abruptness of it. "A magical device, then? Is your sister a mage?" He peers more closely at the scene. The woman is dressed strangely - the tight trousers, such as might be worn under armor, would mark her as a warrior woman like his own sister, except that her shirt is loose and thin and would provide no protection at all from the chafe of a breastplate. He thinks, anyway. The needs of fighters aren't exactly his area of expertise, though it was a common enough topic among his siblings and their friends for Raistlin to have gotten the gist of things.

"What do you mean, case? Upgrade?"

HOME SWEET HOME

Re: Open To All

Re: Open To All

Re: Open To All

Re: Open To All

Re: Open To All

Re: Open To All

no subject