RP:Why Is It Always Venturil?

Part of the Saurian Onslaught Arc

Part of the What You Leave Behind Arc

Minor note: Wanting to make it clear the rp was completed prior to transition of characters in the arc, ie: Scandal being replaced with Aetherclaw.
Summary: Khitti, Scandal, and Locke discuss dealing with a way to enchant the Adventurer's Guild's headquarters to keep people from stealing and causing a ruckus. Khitti and Scandal also find out that in order to help Penelope, and others, an herb must be sought out in Venturil... even though Venturil is now being blockaded by those meddlesome Razurath.

Adventurer's Guild Meeting Room, Kelay

Tenbatsu Kaji was left at the door as usual, the same stern look given to the guard that watched over it by the sword’s owner. The katana was sentient, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t try to take it, whether they be your everyday thief or someone more sinister. Khitti was glad for this decision to use magic on the Adventurer’s Guild building--she’d get to keep her sword with her then, after all. It would hover beside the doorguard as it usually did when left behind there, the weapon giving off its golden-hued aura. Instructions had been given to anyone in the path towards the guild’s meeting room to usher Locke and Scandal on into where Khitti was. It was only a precaution, of course. Khitti didn’t have the time to wander around the guildhall looking for the two of them, if neither of them had had much time to scout around the place.

The meeting room itself screamed ‘Lanara’. From the lavender, to the champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, to the desk with the enchanted pens and neverending supply of notebooks… it was all a reminder. Khitti would wait for the other two. She’d wait and she’d stare at all of these small touches the guild’s former leader had added to the room in order to make it more comfortable. It didn’t make Khitti feel comfortable anymore. Instead, it brought only memories back from the recent past--more memories to add to the pile that Khitti wish she could just get rid of. It was funny that she’d gone back to this way of thinking. It’d only been a year or so ago since she was begging to have any memory at all back, once she’d come back from the dead. But now? Now she kept a list, a list that constantly rattled off in her head, one that she wished to purge from this world, one that she sometimes found herself repeating out loud, albeit in a whisper. “Amarrah. Dhavislaav. Vailkrin. Dominic. Facilier. Onyx. Venturil. Gabriel. Lanara.” There were more, so many more, but these were unfortunate ones she fixated on, usually when alone.

Locke Abigail prided himself on being early to everything he ever attended, which was precisely why it stung so much when he got held up along the byroads. A large caravan had stalled in Xalious, held up for reasons Locke didn't wish to waste time learning but learned anyway when he heard voices too loud to ignore. A man over half as big as his wagon complained between chokes of smoke that everything had gone to hell out Venturil way. His name was Larry -- a peculiar name as far as Locke was concerned -- and it seemed like everyone surrounding him had chosen to blame Larry for their misfortunes. "You're a damnable lout, Larry, and now look at the trouble we're in." The golden-skinned woman who said this smacked poor Larry with a wooden spatula she then used to flip several poultry wings on a makeshift grill within the caravan. Clearly, these dozens upon dozens of people had been waiting here a long time. But Venturil was far away. Why would a caravan be held up all the way in Xalious? "Excuse me," Locke ventured, "but what exactly is going on here?" He was at the back of the line and a wagon full of elderly folk peered down at him suspiciously. "Brigands calling themselves toll-takers up the road," a bald man snapped. "Think now that them razurath are doing it they can do it too. Time was, this realm had gallant, white-clad knights armed and at the ready. None of this would have happened when Donovan Keane ruled." Locke squinted. But from what I've heard, there are greater threats in Lithrydel now, threats that supersede common thieves. Still, this isn't fair to anyone. Had I more time, I would speak with these thieves and explain to them their misdoings. But he didn't have the time. And he needed to make up for all the time he had already lost. "I see," Locke replied. "I am very sorry for your trouble." The wagon full of elderly stared in confusion when the half-elf then disappeared into the shrubbery.

"I am terribly sorry," Locke told Khitti, despite the fact that he had arrived precisely at the agreed-upon moment. Thin beads of sweat dripped down from his cheek. He dried himself off with a plain green cloth and took in the busy meeting room. "I was held up," he said slowly, distracted now by all the pomp. "This is... lively." He tried to sound pleasant about it but it was all terribly distracting for a lad of such simple sensibilities."Well, but if I might, I would like to take one of these pens and one of these notebooks and transcribe our conversation for posterity. I see our friend Scandal has yet to arrive. I'd query that he's been held up by that caravan also if it weren't for the fact that dragons tend to be above such matters." He chuckled at his own weak joke.

Scandal would have been caught up by the blockade had not been for his not even being in Venturil at the start of the blockade. Nay that happened shortly after he and his girlfriend had gone to cenril to enjoy the beaches and now the both of them were sharing an apartment in the city, while Scandal would attempt to plan an alternative route into venturil. Having come up from Cenril, Scandal's walk up the trail to the Guild Museum, had been both a slow thoughtful journey and also bit of grieving one. While the weeks had passed since the initial grief of his sister Lanara leaving the lands permanently, the dragon still found this often traveled road, a bit to much ongoing to memory lane. When he arrived at the museum, he took a slow stroll about the place. Lost in his thoughts, both of trying to find an alternative path into the venturil that didn't involve flying directly over the xailous mountains, the beastial ice dragons that flew about those mountains were quite the unpleasing folk, hungry for the first thing seen, and quite aggressive. Suddenly the door bursting open just in time for Scandal to watch the half elf locke dart passed and down to the guild meeting room. Heaving a small sigh, the figure of Scandal mere seven feet tall, closed his wings tightly to his back and slipped down the stairs,

Arriving in the guild meeting room, he found himself clenching his jaw as the place practically flooded with the style of now left sister, which left him a little worse for wear. "We.... we need to redecorate, at some point." He struggled to say. "Sorry, I have been distracted. The museum, my thoughts, and Venturil's current predicament, and trying to find an alternative way past the blockade, since none of the magic stones work anymore. Khitti you called the meeting, whats up?"

A faint laugh was offered to Locke in response to his attempt at a joke. “Perhaps he is tied up, yes. He’s still got plenty of time to show though,” she said, a dismissive wave of her hand given to indicate that Locke could indeed take a pen and notebook. Scandal did show not too long after, a nod offered to the dragon once he appeared, “I’m inclined to agree. I’ll speak to Meri about it, as I’m likely to be the one to help her, though it could already be on her list of things to do.” Khitti and Meri -were- the artists in the guild, after all. Once both of them were settled, Khitti sighed and opened her own notebook. The weight of the room was stifling, and the subjects that needed broaching moreso.

“There’s a couple things. The first is that, as I’m sure you both know, Meri wants the three of us to come up with a plan to fix the situation at the door, which is the fact that the previous guild leaders required those with weapons to leave their weapons with the guards. It’s pretty unnecessary and only hinders our chances at defending against an attack of any sort.” Khitti flipped through her own notebook, eyeing the things she’d jotted down. “My own guild hall has similar magics to what Meri would like to be used here, but they weren’t written by me, nor is the enchantment exactly what she wants, as mine pertains to protection from evil and not theft. Locke, since you and I don’t exactly know one another, I don’t know what your abilities are. Do you know much when it comes to spell writing or casting? I thought we could pool our efforts there.” Her attention shifted from Locke to Scandal, “You, on the other hand, I know what you can do… and despite how I acted before, on our way to that island, my magic isn’t infinite. Nor is it strong enough to enchant an entire building, both here and in Vailkrin--especially if I end up being the only one to cast it. You’ve said before that you’re a magic font and I’ve seen it in action. I’m certain it’ll be needed to take care of this, if you’re up to it.”

Khitti paused, allowing the two to take in the things she’d said and suggested before she continued on to item number two on her list, in an attempt to allow for all conversation to be had once it was voiced. “The second is this plague that’s been going around. Meri’s been trying to help out with it, and it also falls under the jurisdiction of the Devout’s Guild as I’ve been made aware that dark magic is involved and likely the cause of it. This isn’t just a Cenril thing, unfortunately. These rats have made their way into all parts of Lithrydel. How are things doing in Venturil, Chartsend, and Xalious? Cenril is pretty bad, considering all of the people that live there and commute from there to other places and vice versa; Kelay-Sage isn’t doing so hot either, since it’s the main road through Lithrydel; Larket, I’m assuming isn’t the greatest either considering how close it is to Ferminville. I’ve yet to make my way to Frostmaw or Gualon and Rynvale doesn’t seem to be -as bad- yet, but it could very well get worse.” The redhead closed her notebook and sighed again, using her right hand to rub her eyes, “The Sanctum is doing the best it can to aid the sick that have been piling through out doors, but… it’s just too much. We’re all spread too thin, trying to put a bandage on things for as long as we can because not even holy magic is permanently curing it, but at some point the bandage is going to fall off and this realm is going to bleed out unless we figure something out.”

Locke placed his index fingers over his forehead contemplatively. “Of myself, I can only say that I have always had a certain… affinity with animals. That won’t be of aid with our security problem unless a decision is made to guard these hallowed halls with leopards. And leopards are temperamental.” He began scribbling down notes in an elegant font. “However, I am familiar with numerous spells and cantrips which can be of use in this predicament and thus I may be able to guide you,” he gestured to Scandal, “through the procedure. Hello, by the way, my friend! It’s good to see you again. Now as for these spells. We will need the services of someone proficient in holy magic.” Little did Locke realize he was presently standing beside someone who fit that bill to a tee. “In the Regalian Frontier, thousands of thieves have established guilds across barren wastes. They plot and they scheme, and they have developed a sort of codex all their own which is designed to inform their unscrupulous guildmates when easy pickings abound — from as far away as ten kilometers. Yet history shows us that no deed goes countered, good or evil. The scholars of the Frontier’s lush riverlands have devised a spell which directly inverts the thieves’ creation. It is, in essence, an anti-thievery divination.” Locke nodded, pleased with his knowledge. “I can’t guarantee its success. I only spent a matter of months with the scholars. But I can try. And if Scandal can act as a manna fount of sorts, we may have a solution.”

Like Khitti before him, Locke waited what he deemed a suitable amount of time for discourse before proceeding to the other matter. In fact, he felt as though he may have waited overlong. The plague had become a personal problem for the lad and he had far less to offer. Nothing in Locke’s travels had prepared him for this. “My friend Penelope withers by the day,” he said. Conviction was deep in his voice. “I cannot allow this to continue. Nor can Meri. My primary ambition on this subject is to seek out an antidote — even a temporary one — deep within the Venturil wilds. I know of a place which may harbor an herb to stymie Penelope’s sickness. I foresee no trouble procuring a large supply of this herb for a greater number of patients. Assuming of course that we survive the rigors of such a journey.” Locke peered at Scandal. “I would be honored if either of you were willing to accompany us.”

Having said that, it now fell upon the young half-elf to address Khitti’s more specific questions. “Regrettably, I cannot speak for many of the lands you’ve mentioned, Khitti. I have not ventured so far as Chartsend, not Frostmaw, nor Rynvale, nor most of Cenril. Nor even much of Xalious. And certainly not Larket.” Locke made a disgusted face. “A merchant informed me the Queen of Larket is a hagraven. A hagraven! Such eldritch abominations, they. Now I am pleased to know that such a support group as the Sanctum exists to do all it can but I have seen enough of this plague’s carnage to understand it is far from enough. We must seek out this dark magic and purify it. Could this be in relation to that warlord I have heard mentioned so frequently since my arrival? Kahran, I believe it was?”

Taking a seat, Scandal listened to the predicaments at hand. As he listened to the proposal concerning the door, he agreed. "Yes, that can work. I can provide whatever you need in that regards." He listened further when the plague was brought up. "In the time that I have been in Venturil, I have noticed rats popping up here and there, for the most part though, those who fall ill as far as I am aware, have been settlers and traveling animals only. I have observed it takes a special kind of tenacity to live in Venturil, so I am assuming that what is born there, seems to have a high tolerance for disease, though, with what is occurring recently and by what has been observed by the door, that blocks the pass. I would venture to wonder if the Razurath might have something to do with the disease resistance, provided of course it can be confirmed as magic, if it isn't, I am out of ideas on the possible cause." He said. "Locke, if you want to keep looking in Venturil for that herb, we will need an alternative way into venturil. And I am not flying!" He said that with a firmness. "Its mating season with ice Dragons between the range of Xalious and venturil, and I will have no business in the sky if i can't help it, especially with people on my back." Scandal said, but then add mumbled to himself, "The last time I took someone they only made it there because they were inside of me, not outside." But this mumbling was hopefully not heard. Hopefully. "I would hesitate to use that name Locke, you never know whether it's going to invoke something, I am told there was something in Cenril regarding Mr. K. But I was unfortunately, well maybe not unfortunately, but tied up at the time." The dragons said with a smirk in the curve of his snout.

Before all else was commented on, Khitti shook her head at Scandal, “No. Say his name. To not say Kahran’s name only furthers the fear and chaos he wants. Do -not- give him that power.” Her words were stern, almost angry-sounding, but the anger wasn’t for Scandal. “I know you’ve mainly resided in Venturil, Scandal, so I understand if you don’t truly know the extent of things--but Kahran has killed a lot of people and has been doing so in Lithrydel before he even officially showed his face to us. Even more will die before this is over, so please… don’t add to the madness. Say his name; don’t let people forget who this monster is.” The subject of Kahran was, unfortunately, a bit of a sore spot for Khitti--she’d been basically on the front lines since this whole war started, after all.

“I don’t suggest going to Larket, Locke, if you can help it. Josleen may not literally be a hagraven, but she might as well be and that husband of hers isn’t any better.” Moving on, she sighed, shaking her head, “I can’t say much about the Razurath, to be honest. The fact that they even still exist after the Warrior’s Guild dealt with them is aggravating considering I almost died horribly.” When doesn’t she? “But, I don’t think it’s Kahran. Starting a plague isn’t his way of things. He wants people to die immediately and in large groups. Plus, there’s always a smaller fish. With people like Kahran about, the smaller evils can go about as they please and everyone just assume it’s Kahran.” She paused, considering their options for getting into Venturil. Unfortunately for Khitti, there wasn’t many. “So, I’m going to be real honest with you--and Scandal already knows this--but I detest Venturil, for reasons I’d rather not go into right now. But, because of those reasons, I know my way around there pretty frakking well at this point. A ship could be taken to the south side of Venturil, provided that this blockade only affects the way in to the north. There’s a byrg down there that I’ve dealt with before and it sits right next to the ocean. Or we can try coming through from Chartsend. Other that that…” Another sigh. “There’s the Shadow Plane.” She frowned at the thought of bringing more Lithrydelians to that other world and made her opinion of it known, “The Shadow Plane is a last resort only. I’ve brought far too many people from here over there. And I’ve since found out that others have been finding ways over there without my knowing. But with it being temporary, I’d be inclined to do it, if only because it’d be a short cut around this Razurath thing.”

“As for the guild’s enchantment, we’ll take care of it as soon as this mission to Venturil is done because Locke’s not the only one that knows about Penelope. There’s more than just her besides that could use even a temporary cure, but with her being a healer hell bent of helping the issue, she needs to be taken care of too. And if the herb isn’t enough, I can add my holy magic along with it.” Khitti closed her notebook, seemingly done with what she had to say.

Not for the first time recently, Locke realized that there was so much more to Lithrydel’s goings-on than he had imagined. Those first days and nights helping newfound friends to deal with a shady businessman were otherwise spent within the serenities of the local forests. From what he was hearing now, it may have been a minor miracle that these forces of Kahran, or this plague, or these razurath, or this not-literal-hagraven queen, or who knows what else hadn’t shivved the lad under cover of darkness out there. Before he knew it, Locke felt truly lightheaded. He found himself leaning on the edge of the table when he came to. “Apologies,” he said when he had collected himself. “I’m quite physically fine. This is simply a lot to take in at once.” He straightened himself. “The onus is on me for paying too much attention to plants and ancient tablets and not enough to… genocide,” he finished slowly.

“Pray forgive my ignorance. But you’re right, of course, Khitti. We must focus on this trek to Venturil first and foremost. And I would rather a friend did not require premature landing over what I can only surmise are deeply lustful giants of the sky so that is indeed out of the question. Once again, I trust your input. If Scandal believes a boat could bypass this blockade then a boat shall be our boon. I am sorry that Venturil does not sit well with you. Would that there were somewhere else I believed this antidote can be found.” He frowned.

Scandal nodded and gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Sorry I corrected, I need to remember he's not a Kyber." He said with nod. "I wouldn't want to impose using the shadow plane, I know from what you and nasada have told me, its not a good place to go. For that reason and one other." He said taking a breath, "Larket's king and Queen, are not my choice rulers, but they are rulers nonetheless. If it is their policy to displace witches then that is there place, however, it is not what I would have done if I were in their place, My sisters and most of my friends are witches," He closed his eyes for a moment, and then said sheepishly, "Even after two months of practice and i still find myself rambling on." He rose from his seat, and put a claw to the front of his snout as he pried open a board in the wall, where he removed a dark bottle with a sloshing liquid, "I never told my sister Lana this, but I managed to stash a few bottles in this wall, in case we ever needed a good drink to calm the nerves, or simply break the ice. 48% dry, anyone?" He asked as he would then grab glasses and set them down on the table for those who asked. "Traveling by boat into Venturil, is the second safest option, and third being by using eyrie transport. At one point, well Locke you would remember the time I fell into that lake, the Razurath do have a way to strike at flying creatures, and while accurate, they do have a slow reload, at least they did when i and a feral dragon got used as target practice, granted by now they probably have many such more than just the three i originally had to deal with. Sailing is the safest option, for nondragons, and well those who don't want use the unorthodox measure of transportation, which I won't be accomodating and certainly not unless the greatest of need.Much like the way Khitti you want to avoid using the shadow plane." He paused, listening to whatever feedback, before adding, "Venturil, is a wild place, its full of chaos, and lack of order, even since King Eboric left, if not especially so, however, if the threat of these Razurath pose is geared toward the magic users, I think we will need to find away to speak to an expert, especially if it comes to having to disguise, or enter without being seen. If the case being compromised. I know a settler from Venturil who has taken to living in the city of Cenril by the wharf, and he will likely be able to help with some details, the other is in the byrg southernmost of venturil and linked to the ocean, Chartsend is the best bet, and the southern byrg is the plan B. What do you think?"

Khitti looked at Locke with concern as he took in all of her unfortunate words and looked like he was about to pass out. Were she still amnesia-Khitti from a year ago, she’d might have a bit more sympathy than what’s currently being mustered by the redhead now--lately, it was something she was in short supply of. Once he composed himself however, she merely nodded at his agreement that the trip to Venturil needed to be dealt with soon. It was Scandal, however, that earned her words now, unpainted lips pressed into a thin line before the templar finally spoke, “Josleen and Macon are evil, manipulative bastards that shouldn’t have an ounce of power, Scandal. I understand where you’re coming from; it’s basically a means to keep yourself from harm. I get it, but do see that they’re the whole reason why Lanara isn’t even here with us anymore. -They’re- the ones that fueled this witch-hating fire and incited these witch-hunters. They burned Valrae at the stake and they would’ve did it to Lanara and Talyara too if they would’ve found them in Larket.” Her thoughts on the matter were made known, and while she did her best to resist the oncoming storm that was a tension headache, she failed in her fight against it, and it happened upon her all the same. “I can argue politics all day with anyone--and perhaps in the future, we will. I’m unfortunately cursed with the ability to understand all sides of the situation, having seen and lived with evil like them before. But, today is not the day that I’ll continue this conversation.”

The redhead stood from her chair and shook her head at the offer of alcohol, “No. I’m going home to drink, since it would seem business is concluded. And as for worrying about the Razurath, I’m not concerned. I have fought them before and it would seem that I may have to do so again in the future. We’ll figure out the details soon for the trip.” And with that, Khitti stormed out of the meeting room, as well as out of the headquarters all together, one hand keeping hold on her notebook while the other nursed her left temple, attempting to get rid of the pain.