Graterras: A Wind Most Foul [IC/Reroll]

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

It was a bleak and dreary night, it was the dead of Winter. It was the time when snow assaulted Aurora in waves. It was nearly a blizzard tonight, snowflakes battered the world and those that braved the storm. They covered the world in white. Normally the sun would glisten off the new snow, casting a brilliant light and blinding light everywhere. However, the blizzard blocked out the sun almost entirely. Small amounts of light leaked through the assaulting storm, giving it a sort of greyish hue.

8 individuals slowly gathered in the giant temple in the middle of the town of Winter's Bite. Where they came from, and why they were there... well it didn't really matter. Fate had lead them there on this day somehow or another. It didn't matter the specifics of how or why, details like that rarely mattered in the long run. It was the tale of their mighty deeds that stuck, not the tale of how they arrived at their mighty deeds. It didn't matter if they were a peasant, or a knight, a orphan, or whatever else. Deeds where more important than histories.

***

Candlelight was the only thing that lit a small room. And Old man stood at the alter of the temple lighting small sky blue candles around the room. "Ivar, set out the food for our guests, we mustn't be rude. They deserve a bit of hospitality before we ask them on such a dangerous mission." he said in a crackly voice. He was speaking to a young disciple of the temple, one who had lived here in Winter's Bite most his life, Ivar Whistlewind. He would be part of this meeting. This was the grand Temple of Lady Aelia, or the Temple of Howling Winds. It was the second largest temple to Aelia in Aurora. It was the first stop on the Path of Faithful Wind, a pilgrimage many believers of Aelia walked every year to show their faith. As, such it was a busy temple, until recently. But that was what this meeting was about and hopefully the guests would soon arrive.

((now the you can each introduce your character as they arrive at the temple, describe them to the audience etc...etc... at the end of your post have them sit somewhere at the large table set in the middle of the room. The player who is Ivar, you character is already here, so feel free to intro him by following Grand Cleric Ivo Battlehorn's instructions, or whatever you wish. You can include how your character heard of the job, how they got here, etc. But, be creative and give us an idea of who they are. Once all the characters are intro'd I will lay out the plot etc and we can get a move on.))

[Code: PIRULUK]

Roose Brightborn stepped up to the large oaken doors, clutching her plain white robe closer around her to ease her nerves. The large temple before her stood in stark contrast to the otherwise humble surroundings of the town of Winter's Bite, its ornately decorated thoroughfare backlit by rows of blazing torches, casting a gentle shadow on those who sought refuge beyond it.

Roose muttered a silent prayer to Bartimier, imploring his protection, and adjusted her hood, ensuring it concealed her distinctly pointed ears. She took a deep breath and collected herself, then set her eyes and walked through the great doors.

The portal opened into a longer corridor, dotted with doors of various colours and shapes. Of all these, however, only one was lit with the silent sheen of firelight. It was towards this door that she ventured.

As she opened the door, a large table appeared before her. Upon it was set plates of food, small in quantity, similar in quality to what was regularly served in the mess hall at the Order. All in all, not an extravagant meal in any sense, but one she was very familiar with.

At the head of the table, a single human male, clearly older than Roose, sat, alongside an older man. She clenched her fists to prevent them from instinctly cupping her ears, and spoke in as much of a neutral, confident voice as she could:

"Greetings. I am Roose Brightborn, of the Order of Bartimier. I have arrived as a representative of the Order in response to your plea for help."

She reached into a small satchel bag under her cloak and removed a stack of parchments, placing them carefully on the table before her.

"This is the proof of my identity, as well as the record of the Order's favorable response to your request."

She felt a desperate urge to ask permission to take a seat, but she restrained her intuitive reactions in favor of what she was taught - asserting her stance as an independant, autonomous entity from her client. She rolled up the papers and drew a seat along in the middle seat along the left side of the rectangular table - enough to indicate she was not subject to the man sitting at the table's head, but not enough to be seen as a claim or superiority.

Her feet quivered in her warm fur boots as she waited for either of the humans to speak up. Her face, however, remained impassive, a mask created through years of training and practice. She placed her hands firmly on the table, not moving an inch to remove her hood.

[Yash]

Oohagan walked through the snow, moving towards the temple as fast as his old body could move. He could feel the cold seeping in through his shimmering purple robes. In the midst of the blizzard, he moved like a purple blemish on an otherwise pristine, white landscape. Taking a little time to catch his breath and warm himself, he waited in a dark corridor. After a few deep breaths he looked around to see where is the meeting place. A single lit door waited a little further.

He opened the door and found himself looking at a large table with a few plates of food on it. The only occupants were an old man and a rather large younger man, both clerics of the Wind Goddess. There also seemed to be a lady dressed in white sitting on the left side. It seemed that he was one of the early ones to reach the temple. He walked in and sat on the closest seat to the door, on the same side as the lady. He was clearly tired from travelling through the blizzard. It seemed to him that the lady had just finished speaking when he entered. Not wanting to interrupt, he waited for a second to confirm she was through, before introducing himself.

"M'lady, good sirs. I am Oohagan, formerly of the Wizards Guild of the White Rose. An old friend of mine from the Guild informed me of your need for help. I used to be a teacher at the Guild, but felt the urge to travel and learn. I have been travelling for a few months now and have finally come to this little town here. I hoped that an adventure would help me gain a more practical sort of knowledge about magic. This cold however is certainly not conducive to learning. All the protection I have are my robes, which certainly are no match for some furs. I seem to be rambling now. I will keep quite lest my droning puts you youngsters to sleep. It has happened with my novices one too often."

Saying this he looked at the young cleric and the lady. Then with a quick glance at the older man to share the joke, he let out a little laugh and settled down. However he still felt the chill from outside in his bones and so moved closer to the fire and started warming himself, occasionally glancing at the white robed lady. While he initially felt that she too is from the order, he realized that while her robes may be white, they weren't those of the order of the White Rose. He also took out what appeared to be a waterskin and took a drink from it, offering it the others. "It keeps the cold away and before you ask, 'tis just wine, not any sort of potion."

[AuthorReborn]

Forlorn trudged through the snow towards his destination and the meager protection he worn did little to protect his massive form from the white jaws of Mother Nature. In fact, they did so little to keep him warm as to live up to his name quite suitably as he muttered under his breath a wide spectrum of colorful phrases which contrasted the stark enviroment quite nicely. Or at least, that's what Forlorn thought. He wasn't the most intelligent of fellows, more like a brute who, while absurdly strong, hadn't really received the most encompassing of educations.

Forlorn stared at his toes as he walked, which peeked out of his fur boots from wear. When this job was over, he decided, he was going to buy himself some proper clothes. Namely shoes and perhaps a traveling cloak for when he was on the road.

While he appeared completely absorbed in his lower digits, he was actually listening with the hearing of a trained killer, ready to retaliate to any ambush at any given moment. It was in the middle of a gods' forsaken blizzard, but you can never be to careful. If Forlorn were to ambush someone, he would certainly do it in a time such as this just to catch his prey unawares. Few beings were able to fight back past their initial burst of adrenaline in such weather. And adrenaline, Forlorn knew, quickly faded when they were faced with an enraged Half-Orc with a spear.

However, such a dedicated state of hearing and staring at one's toes tends to tune out the other senses. Forlorn didn't even realize there were small footsteps in the snow, nor the buildings he was walking by, until it was far too late. He continually, listening for an ambush when all of a sudden he found himself walking into a wooden wall. He took a half-step backwards and realized he had reached his destination. Cursing himself for being so foolish, he brushed himself off and found that while his clothes had been ruffed up a bit more, he was more of less unharmed. Then the snow fell off the roof onto his head because of the force of his impact. This did little to improve his already poor mood.

Fuming now, Forlorn forced himself to save his rage for latter and for whoever he was supposed to take out. Calming down, he put forth his green/grey hand and pushed through the door.

Inside, there were a few of his soon-to-be fellows gathered, along with an older man. The grumbling of the door and his rumbling footsteps drew the attention of them all.

Forlorn, not wishing to waste his breath when his companions were obviously too occupied examining his figure, merely grunted, "Name's Forlorn." He walked into the ring of chairs and took a seat, which trembled and creaked under his weight. It obviously wasn't designed for a Half-Orc.

Edited January 22, 2015 by AuthorReborn

[anethia]

Evys gently walked through the flurry of snow, heading slowly across to the dark oak doors in front of her. Shivering slightly, she brought her robe closer to her side before gently moving her hand, causing violet sparks to spurt forth from her feet, branching out and forming a perfect circle ending at her head. The flames melted the snow coming near her, evaporated the water that dribbled out of them. Yet she remained unharmed, perfectly warm. She walked slightly faster now, clutching her staff tightly. Approaching the steps, she waved her hand once more, and the violet flames burst out, vanishing in mid air before touching anything.

She walked up the wood, her bare feet touching the cold wood, drawing out a small hiss. Slowly edging forwards, she grasped the ornate door knob tightly, twisting it and pushing forward. She glanced around the room, looking at a mahogany table, taking up the room. Many chairs sat spaced evenly apart, all around the table. Candles dimly lit the room, casting an ominous glow on her surroundings. In a quiet, hoarse whisper, she uttered a simple sentence to the ones she knew were listening, the ones that were there, yet not quite there. The spirits of the elements that guided her here. Her eyes lit up gently.

"I have arrived."

Silently padding over to an empty spot, as far away from the others as she could. Adjusting her robes and her hair to sit behind her ears, she looked up, silently waiting for someone to speak up.

[K_H]

the Cleric known as Ivar nodded, and then spoke.

"It is as good as done, milord."

Then, Ivar went to work, finishing a little before the first guest arrived, and then sat at the Table next to Ivo. the first three guests to arrive introduced themselves as Roose Brightborne, the representative from the order of Bartimis; Oohagan, formerly of the White Rose Guild; and a half-orc named Forlorn. The Fourth Guest, however, didn't introduce herself, only announcing her presence before joining the table at an empty spot. Ivar simply waited for the remaining three to come, although Oohagan's joke did bring a momentary smile to his face.

Edited January 23, 2015 by K_H

[Rosesong]

Clanking and singing could be heard for a few seconds before the Temple doors swung open once more, revealing the one and only Lord Gradun. His ornate jewelry shone in the light, while instruments hung off of him in great piles. He didn't seem to be weighed down by them though, jumping and twirling around as he strummed on his lyre in great happiness.

"Greetings, fellow travelers! It is I, the most famous Lord of Song and Dance, Gradun!" he sang, bouncing around the room in delight and neglecting to mention that he gave himself that title. "I have come from my engagement in the Shattered Hills to attend this quest that our hosts," he took a moment to bow graciously to the humans that were in the room, "have set aside for us!"

Lord Gradun strolled around the table, clearly at ease in his new surroundings, continuing to strum his lyre. "I have traveled the world, learning about different cultures and their histories," he boasted, uncaring of who was paying attention.

[Aurorix]

After the bard made his way to the table, yet another individual came through the door only this one was a greasy looking humanoid rat twisting his curled mustache. "Bonjour, I am Slairk the classiest Kobold Assassin you've ever laid your eyes on." He said with a french accent. His old raggedy clothing looked like they were falling apart from the seams. Far from his self-proclaimed classiest Kobold. "I heard some monsieur here wanted people to hunt a special beast, and I Slairk have come to the call of the hunt. Oh ho ho ho, you'll never find a better trickster for the job!" He then made his way to the table and sat in a chair. He didn't really care for the bard's music though he didn't mind it either.

[Deleted User]

Having not been noticed in the corner of the room, a short man was sitting on the floor shrouded by a hooded trench coat. 'Are you all finished yet? There's work to be done. If any of you falter on this expedition, that's on you. I might help, I might not, but don't count on it. If you're expecting someone to be your friend then don't look to me. How did I get here? Wouldn't you like to know?' The man stood up, he was not of great stature. 'I suppose I can at the very least give you the name I go by. You can call me Mentheim. Now let the old man tell us just why we're here.'

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

((sorry for the long wait folks, really. Being sick on and off made it a pain in the bum fro me to update this but I am back now.))

"Hmm, an interesting group we have gotten ourselves my Boy." Ivo said placing a long oaken smoking pipe into his mouth. He took a hit of it and exhaled a fine stream of smoke from his nose. He folded his arms in his lap and leaned forward. "I am sure all of you have heard snippets of why you were summoned. Probably from some mighty quest that needed skilled hands to complete it. Well, I don;t know about a mighty quest, but I know something is not right in these parts." Ivo sneered, it would seem rather out of place if it weren't for what he said next. "Our village is unsafe, and this is near the time of the Wind's Fate ceremony, something we do once a year. It done to symbolize the journey of Snow Ashforth the greatest champion ever known to Lady Aelia, and as such is the time of year most followers of Aelia walk the Path of Faithful Winds. As I am sure you can imagine, it will be very dangerous with what is going on in the wilderness. I suppose I should tell you what is happening now, eh?" he said scratching his mighty beard. He got up and started to pace back and forth, clearly thinking to himself. Ivar had seen hims do this many times, he was trying to find the best way to word what he was about to say. Ivo was a careful man, and didn't like to say things without carefully considering them first. It was a rather strange quality, though people always thought he was a wise sage.

"We know of a trope of bandits out by the south road of town, they are clearly trouble, however the rumors of what is going on are truly puzzling. They seem to be protecting an area, rather than attacking people for goods or money. Either, they are very stupid and horrible bandits, or they are up to something. My bet is they are up to something." He started to walk towards the table. In this time he drew a small parchment from his robe. He unfurled it on in the middle of the table. On it, was a hastily draw sketch of something unlike the group had ever seen. It appeared to be some sort... of deer, but it was horribly disfigured and bones jutted out everywhere. It was truly a horrifying sight. But, what did it have to do with the situation. "This lovely being was seen nearby the area of the attacks." Ivo added quickly. "And this leads us to believe they are doing something rather undesirable up there. They are playing with some sort of magic or something that could be extremely dangerous, and we ask you investigate it, and put a stop to it on our behalf. I am willing to pay handsomely if you deal with our problem here. I will send with you my boy ((not in the sense of son, they aren't related...)) Ivar here, and a man I have gotten to agree to guiding you up there."

"I am sure you questions, I suggest asking them now so we can get down to business." he finished, folding his arms in front of him. He shifted his weight as he looked out over the table, waiting to answer anything that came at him. He expected mostly questions about how much they would get payed.

[Code: PIRULUK]

Roose bit her lip. The old man's brief was incredibly vague and uninformative. No information on enemy troop strength, appearance, species, quality or even origin. She did not like rushing into battle thusly blinded. Shifting her hood to further shadow her features, she calmed herself and asked a question.

" You say that we will be rewarded. On behalf of the Order, I would like to inquire as to what form of renumeration you are offering. Please understand, while it pains us to see lives in danger, as a knightly order answering to both the king and our own deity, we must extract payment as a means to justify our involvement in situations outside of our inherent jurisdiction. If I deem the payment to be inadequate, I'm afraid I will have to, as acting representative of the Order, withdraw our participation in this campaign."

Under the table, Roose's knuckles whitened from being clenched tight. A part of her hated what she was doing, but it was restrained by the disciplined, professional side of her. Rules were rules and protocol had to be followed, no matter how repugnant.

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

"Hmm, that is what the order thinks no doubt. I wonder what you actually think." Ivo said. "It matters not if you be frank with me, cause you shall be payed all the same." he wandered over to the alter, a large marble one, that stood towards the back of the room. It was upon a raised dais and probably were sermons or lectures were given. Atop it sat a small Ivory warhorn, along with small figures, also of Ivory, in the shape of woman clad in armour. Ivo stooped down behind it and went out of sight for awhile. Until he popped back up with a large burlap sack. It was clearly heavy as it the coins clanked and wished around inside. The man could barely carry it, and that was a good sign it was quite the amount of money. He slammed it down on the table, panting a bit as he caught his breath. "8,000 gold Lumens, or 800 coins each. We are dealing with bandits, I don't expect them to be too troubling even with the strange sightings in the area, espicially not for a lot like this. This should be easy pay for adventurers of your cailbre. I need this dealt with quickly, that is why I pay so much fro a simple job. The Wind's Fate ceremony is of vital importance to the followers of Lady Aelia, and I will not have it ruined by bandits at the gates."

((that amount of money is actually quite insane for what the job at hand is currently. He is actually probably overpaying but is willing to do so because he really really needs this job done.))

[Deleted User]

Mentheim steps forward, "We can worry about the pay later, I trust you wouldn't try to skip out on a deal against a wide group of individuals who COULD likely end your life at any given time. I need info on this creature, the Bandits themselves are of no real concern, they're just petty obstacles. When did this creature first appear? Has it taken any lives yet? Do you know anything of what it is capable of? Anything and everything you know of it, you need to tell us now. It'll help ensure that one, we don't die trying to take down this.... thing, and more importantly to you, two, that you get the results you're actually looking for here. I don't suppose the rest of you would have any idea of what this is, or what it can do? If you do, speak your damn mind, now." Mentheim looks around the room for anyone to speak up.

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

"It matches no known descriptions of any creature the sages((scholars basically, a.k.a no one knows what the hell it is.)) know. Whatever this being is... it is new. We are not exactly sure how it correlates to the bandits, but it certainly is connected somehow." Ivo said taking another hit off his pipe. "It hasn't killed anyone, and has only be sighted once out in the Wilderness near what is called, The Weeping Field. It is the site of an old battleground, in fact one that relates to Snow Ashfield the very subject of the Wind's Fate ceremony. It was the largest battle in the old civil war of Aurora thousands upon thousands of years ago. Both sides clashed head on, the side that wanted to worship the Vagrant Gods, and the side that wished to remain faithful to Lady Aelia and the rest of the Nine Divines. Snow Ashfield, led the force devoted to Aelia, rallying them to arms with the blow of her Warhorn. Thousands upon thousands died on both sides, and it was a bloodbath. However, Snow claimed the day at the end. It is said that many souls wander the fields still to this day, the souls of those that died during the war. Perhaps this... beast is somehow related. The one who saw it, said it looked as if a carcass was walking. That something dead, was no longer dead. But, they also said, it clearly wasn't a zombie, or at least one like they had ever seen. They said it seemed... stitched together. Whatever this thing is... It was created... but we have no idea by whom, or for what purpose."

[Deleted User]

"Stitched together?" Mentheim sits down at the table and interlocks hands. "I mean.... does that mean necromancy could be involved? Or perhaps some sort of technology not yet known to the world? Either way if there's one, I wouldn't call it too far out of the realm of possibility, hell I'd even say it's likely, that there are more than one. Soldiers that follow orders no matter what, no matter how crazy and suicidal they may be, that's dangerous. My next train of thought would be to scout the area and if we can get close enough, their compound. We need to know what we're dealing with first and foremost. Old man, do you have a map of the area where they're located? In either case, I vote we send a scouting party, just don't do anything stupid."

[K_H]

Ivar nodded. "I'm with Mentheim on this matter. Remember that the rule of Groups applies to Artificial Undead when concerning their creators: wherever there's Zombies or re-animated Skeletons, there's usually a Necromancer or group thereof nearby. If we manage to find out how many there are with a scouting party, we can get enough reinforcements for the main group when we launch the attack." Ivar paused, looking like he was doing a little bit of thinking, and then continued speaking. "Did it occur to any of you that either the Bandits might have been hired the creator of the creature, or that one of them is the creator of the creature?"

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

"As I have expressed, I have a man waiting fro you, a scout we shall say. We will be able to lead you to the area. He knows the area well, and should be able to lead the scout mission easily." Ivo said. "However, I am not sure this beast was made by the bandits Ivar. They seem to be the muscle just wandering the area keeping people out. I think it was the one who created the being who hired the bandits, not the other way around."

[K_H]

"Thank you for giving us that bit of information, Ivo, it is quite useful. it can help us determine how to either get around or defeat the Bandits much more easily now that we know how they probably will react to certain situations."

[Yash]

Oohagan sighed thinking that his rest would be short lived. "My lady I doubt your order would refuse an offer as generous as this, so let us get down to work. I agree with the Dwarf Mentheim, we need to send in a scouting party. As for the beast, I believe that our employer is right, bandits would rarely have the brains, let alone skill to create an abomination such as that. We need more information not only about the bandits but also the creator of that beast. I believe I can help with that. Divination is of rather special interest to me. As such it helps me to obtain knowledge easily and is very useful while scouting. I guess, what I am saying is that should we send a party out I volunteer." Saying this he leaned back in his chair and started fumbling in his robe. He pulled out a giant tome and started reading. He noticed a few curious glances his way and said, " Ah, age hasn't been very kind to me and my memory, and as such I find it best to keep re-reading anything I think would help me on my journey lest I forget. Don't worry though, I still remember enough to manage my way around." He gave them all a big cheerful smile, as if talking to a group of children and merely reassuring them of a happy ending to one of his stories.

[Rosesong]

Lord Gradun sang out, "But dear friends, we can't let one go alone." Strumming his lyre, he continued, "I, the Lord of Song and Dance, shall accompany the brave human Oohagan on this most excellent of scouting trips!" Dropping his lyre to hang around his neck, the self-proclaimed Lord rummaged about his person, finally pulling up a shiny bugle dangling from his waist up and giving it a quick toot.

Getting up from the table, the Lord began to sing again, prancing around the table. "There once was a lass, that played mean brass. Through blowing her trombone, she taught me the most excellent technique," pausing to toot on the bugle again for effect. "Ever since, I've wanted to try out this most excellent of techniques, but have never run across unsavory fellows to test it out on!" Lord Gradun waltzed himself over to Oohagan. "So friend," he sang. "When shall we begin our quest?"

[Aurorix]

"Oh ho ho ho ho," Slairk chuckled after hearing the hunt for the strange beast, "If one monsieur should be scout, that monsieur should be me Slairk mastery of all things trickery and sneaky!" He said twisting his stash with his pointer finger and thumb, "Though if this monsieur is going to scout out the camp with some other monsieur or madam then that personne must not be turbulent, or how you say a lot more quite then the Lord of all things loud and obnoxious." He said pointing towards Gradun. Now his songs were getting on his nerves, even more so now that he wants to accompany him on a scouting mission.

[Deleted User]

Mentheim stands up and slams his hands down on the table in exasperation, "Oh so now we're going to send the glorified bard out on recon? What's next are we going to have the lovely little Pixie Evys go in and challenge the creature to an arm wrestling match? Sorry but that ain't happening, not on my watch.' He proceeds to walk over to the corner where he was first sitting, and rubs his temples, "I hope you all aren't like this fool, or I may as well just walk away now...., Slairk on the other hand has a point, he's more likely trained in the art of stealth through his experience. I nominate him, Ivar, and myself to be the scouting party. With Slairk's stealth, Ivar's ability to link with the minds of others, and my knowledge of raising the dead, it seems like the best way to go about it. I don't like making extra work for myself, believe me I really DON'T want to be doing this, but a guy's gotta eat somehow and I'm not missing out on this opportunity."

[AuthorReborn]

Forlorn, who had sat quietly in his chair and had done his best to keep it from groaning under his weight (to little avail), decided it was his turn to throw in something to the discussion.

"That sounds like the best course," he said gruffly. "Frankly, if any of the rest of us went, we'd attract a but too much attention." He certainly didn't look too happy about his words though.It would mean that he'd be penned up with the remaining members of the party in a temple. Specifically one companion who decided that it was required to fit a tune to the majority of his speech.

[Yash]

Oohagan was not amused by Lord Gradun's singing and was glad the others were unhappy by the prospect of having him in the scouting party. He put aside his tome and said, "I agree with Forlorn, Slairk and Mentheim, Gradun will be easily spotted or heard at the least by the enemy, as would many others, probably ruining the chances of the party. However I think Ivar would be most useful working in collaboration with me. Let me explain." He fiddled inside his robes and pulled out an orb which seems to have white mist trapped with, placing it on the tome. "I can gaze into this orb and control it to see the area around up to 100 feet. I can also detect any magical traps and spells being used in an area up to 30 feet. Let me demonstrate how the orb works." Saying this he sets about muttering under his breath and lifted the orb and touched it to his forehead while shutting his eyes. Then he lets go of the orb, which starts floating in front of his. The mist in the orb starts swirling around and then in the centre it seems as if there is a small void, almost black in colour. It then disappeared from everybody's sight. He then says, "With this I can see anything that would normally be visible to my eyes." He then recalls the orb and places it back in his robes. He opens his eyes and says, "It is a useful spell to avoid mechanical traps and ambushes. Ivar could stay here and relay all the sights from my eyes to everybody in the temple. Slairk, Mentheim and I should be able to scout around and return quickly."

[K_H]

Ivar then spoke.

"Well, excuse me, but there's a bit of a problem with that 'Relay' Plan of yours, Oohagan and Mentheim: I'm only able to maintain one Link at a time."

Ivar seemed to think for a short while, and then spoke.

"However, since I am one of the locals, I do know this Terrain somewhat well. If anyone here has skill with the Illusion Magics, I can maintain a Link with them and they can show everyone else what I'm seeing with their magic."