The First Meeting

Ceri’s Journal - Written to be sent in batches whenever practical to Alwyn Gailwood, The Platinum Sanctuary, Vasselheim. To be opened in chronological order. Mid afternoon, 6th Quen’pillar 835PD
Today I arrived in Drynna after an uneventful journey of around a week.

The past few days I have had the pleasure of a couple of travelling companions on the road - Arin Verus, a priest of the Cobalt Soul, and Raphael Neverwood, a hedge knight in the service of the Moonweaver. Their conversation certainly made the miles seem shorter, and they both had some powerful tales to tell (if you have never heard of the ceremony of the Moonweaver Ribbons, do look it up, it’s well worth the trouble).

As I mentioned in my previous letter, I had a feeling about going to Drynna - one of the most powerful that I have ever experienced, and the only thing I knew about the town was that it was the home town to that rather strange young woman who I ran into in Emon soon after I arrived here (her name was Wind, if you recall). I am sure, by the way, that you all had a good laugh at my expense when you read that letter, I must confess that I am somewhat shamefaced recalling the details myself. Even looking back only a year, my past self seems now very green when it comes to the ways of the road. Anyway, I made what I considered at the time to be a very shrewd guess that I was needed in connection somehow with her, but coming into town it seemed like a fairly sleepy little place, no great stage for a drama of the sort that Mistress Wind prefers.

We arrived at an Inn on the outskirts of town, and almost as soon as I walked into the door I had another very strong sense that this was somehow exactly where I needed to be. Two such experiences in the space of a week, so strongly, certainly got my full attention. I didn’t have much time to ponder it though, we hadn’t even had a chance to sit down when who should walk in but Wind herself. As is her way, she breezed up to the bar, quite purposefully drawing all eyes with both her outfit and her smile, and helped herself to a drink without so much as a by-your-leave. I was surprised how pleased I was to see her again, even as I worried about what sort of trouble she might be in. She seemed glad to see me too, to say the least, and once she had finished welcoming me in her own indomitable style, I was rather embarrassed to see how much of the travelling dust from my mail had now transferred itself to her silks.

However, good as it was to see Wind again, she was about to be completely upstaged. You might find it hard to believe what I am about to tell you next, but the door to the Inn opened once again to admit our very own Orlando Boom! Yes, Orlando is here in Tal Dorei. On guild business apparently, although I have yet to get to the bottom of that. Honestly, I was so glad to see him that I could have cried then and there. You know how homesick I have been at times this year, and just the sound of his broad gnomish drawl hit me pretty hard. That faint, or not so faint, smell of powder that always clings to him wafted through the inn and it was enough to take me straight back to his little workshop.

Delighted as I was to see him, and eager to hear all the news from home, his showing up within twenty minutes of my own arrival, and Wind’s, was far too much of a coincidence, and I began at this point to be seriously concerned about what might be going on in this quiet little port. Over the next hour or so, the cast of characters at the Inn became more and more unlikely - the Inn’s chef it turned out, is some sort of minor, or still training, wizard, and as well as that, she also seemed to be the long lost and newly reunited sister (although clearly not by blood) of one of the patrons, a large Tabaxi. Not an hour later, what looked like a Drow ranger stumbled through the door, making eight of us in total (the barkeep having retreated to the kitchen at this point to prepare more food for the growing crowd). At that moment, as the drow woman crossed the threshold, I had the most powerful flash of divine intuition that I have ever experienced. It is almost impossible to describe that sort of thing without resorting to cliche, but suffice to say that in that moment I knew for certain that this group of people belonged together and that there was some significant purpose behind our meeting.

I was not the only one that thought so either. Just as we were finally settling to our meal, the proprietor of the Inn returned unexpectedly. He is a flamboyant character, to say the least, but he seemed to have something of the same sense that I did about the import of what was happening. You will tell me that I am seeing meanings and portents in every corner, I know, but honestly, you had to be there - and even the innkeep could feel it too, which just goes to show how powerful a sense it was. Something whole had been made from disparate elements and the sense of a new beginning was almost ringing in the air.

This publican, Rebur, his name was, accompanied us (herded us might be a better term) into town and introduced us (as the next Vox Machina, would you believe it, absolutely mortifying) to a local bigwig by the name of Councilman Marten Louriette. The Councilman told us of an apothecary to the north of the city who has not been heard of in some little time, and about whom concerns were beginning to be raised. There is some sort of sickness in town which affects the children particularly severely, and this apothecary manufactures a medication which may be helpful. Loriette’s own daughter is suffering from this malady, and the poor man was clearly very stressed about the whole situation. He offered us a fair sum of gold to investigate the situation, and hopefully bring back some of these potions.

To cut a slightly long story short (I will tell you more about that later perhaps, if there is time), everyone agreed to this mission and we headed out north, led by the hunter, Enessa. We encountered a small pack of wolves in the woodland to the north, but dealt with them without too many issues. Knowing that Orlando had my back in the fight felt just like old times of course, but all of my new companions acquitted themselves well. We were a surprisingly well balanced group for a bunch of strangers thrown together by happenstance, and everyone agreed that it was very good luck that it should be so. Perhaps.

To that end (and so that you can mock me roundly when none of this portentous rambling comes to pass), I enclose a brief word on my first impressions of each of my companions.

Familiar Faces:

Orlando Boom - needs no introduction, of course. He is his own idiosyncratic self (if slightly troubled by whatever business brings him west), and a sight for sore eyes.

Wind - I have spoken to you of her before, and if anything her flame burns even more brightly out here in the sticks than it did in Emon. I have no doubt she is up to her old tricks, and it’s hard to know what the locals make of her, but she seems thriving enough. I won’t lie, she still makes me nervous as hell, but I’ve never met anyone quite like her. I tried to warn Orlando to watch his purse around her, but he just gave me a rather odd smile as if I were stating the blindingly obvious.


Companions on the Road:

Arin Verus - a priest of Ioun, and a brother of the Cobalt Soul. Rather tight-lipped about his own business, but certainly quick and sharp with questions. No surprises there I suppose, we’ve drilled with enough Cobalt Soul troops in Vasselheim to know their ways. He was very handy with his mace when we faced the wolves, and even managed a little healing magic as needed. If he also sensed a divine hand in our meeting then he gave no sign at all, but if anyone is alert to coincidences and probabilities, it is Ioun’s folk. A useful man to have by one’s side by any measure, but hard to read.

Raphael Neverwood - a noble half elven lord, from somewhere up in the north of Tal Dorei. Now, as you know, being a lord doesn’t mean the same thing here as it does at home - many of the lords and ladies here are lazy, even completely idle, if you can credit that - but Neverwood is not typical. He serves the Priestess of Sehanine, and declares himself sworn to good works in her honour. He certainly embraces the poverty of a true servant of the divine (and is more than generous with what little he has), and yet he retains a good portion of the arrogance of a Tal Dorei nobleman. He wears his ring openly, uses his title freely, and then demurs when people defer to the status he has claimed. The Councilman at one point said that he felt shamed by Neverwood’s honour, and I know what he meant. Still, you cannot blame a man for his little vanities, and I suspect that at times it is an effective tactic in getting to the heart of matters.


New Acquaintances (please bear in mind that I have known these people scarcely half a day when I write this):

Zenirith the Wizard Chef - a Tiefling, like Wind, but very different in appearance. She was working in the Eagle’s Landing as some sort of cook / barkeep, but seems to have a significant magical talent. They think about this sort of arcane magic very differently here than in Vasselheim, and no-one batted much of an eyelid at her carrying what I can only assume was a spellbook quite openly in town. In the battle she threw some vicious fire magic at the wolves, and although it didn’t often connect, I could see how much power it might have once she has more control over it. She has some sort of close connection with Sabali from their mutual past.

Sabali - this gentleman is a Tabaxi, the first I have ever had the honour of meeting properly. He has the colouring of a snow leopard, such as you might see occasionally in the mountains at home, as well as the imposing physical presence of that great feline. In combat he seems to fight as often with his fists as with his sword, and I have heard that this is common among monks, which is what he appears to be. He speaks common with a strong accent which I could not place, and much of what he said made little sense to me. My knowledge of the local customs and idiom here still leaves much to be desired - I am sure that he made perfect sense to everyone else.

Last, but not least, Enessa, the huntress - this woman appears to be a drow elf, unlikely as that seems in a mostly human town. She arrived at the Inn bearing a huge boar on her back, and as I write she is preparing some sort of sling to carry with us one of the carcasses of the wolves which we have just killed (somewhat to the irritation of Raphael, who does not seem inclined to linger). She guided us expertly through the woods, and warned us of the approach of the wolves in good time - clearly she knows these forests well. However, she seems a bit of a prickly character. I could see that Raphael was wary of her from the first, but I don’t know the reason for that. The innkeep seemed to know and like her well enough, but then again, he obviously is the sort who gets along well enough with everyone.