[DnD 5e] Playthings in an Interplanar Dollhouse- A Path of the Planebreaker Adventure

[purepolarpanzer]

Velein, At the Foot of Mount Velein, The Capital of Wissimvale, Plane of Viridor

The Day of Union had arrived after weeks of preparation in the castle city of Velein. Merchants filled the market, guests of all shapes and sizes filled the normally human-dominated taverns and businesses of the city, and the celebrations had begun early and lasted well into the night for a half-week already. After more than a human generation's worth of war (and war-time taxes) the entire kingdom gave a sigh of relief at the prospect of peace with Everarbor. Even Elvish guests were welcomed, and despite mutters of "knife-ear" and "tree-hugger", incidents of aggression were minimal (and dealt with swiftly and thoroughly by the local guard). Tables, stages, and stalls were being set up for the entire city to feast and party in the streets along with the hundreds of visitors from afar that came to celebrate and trade here. Even a magic mirror was being set up to allow watchers all over the kingdom, maybe even the world to watch the festivities as two nations that had been at each other's throats for three decades made peace with the power of bloodlines mingled and, according to the romantically inclined, love shared.

It was a time when most of Viridor paid attention to a small mountain kingdom. Some hoped for success, peace, and prosperity. Some bitterly hoped for failure, folly, and a continued war. All who had read omens assumed the nuptials were the monumentous event that would shape the fate of all of Viridor. But no one expected what would come next.

Spoiler: Prince Doredan Reydalise

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Velein Castle is arranged in a series of descending terraces and structures built into the natural incline of the mountain. The higher you go in the structure, the stricter the security and the more prestigious the status of the people you find. Today the entire castle is abuzz with last minute wedding preparations- the priest of Damh, god of celebration, must be located in the city below and brought back for his duties, the royal chamberlain and his small army of butlers is rolling barrels of ale, wine, and spirits from the cellar and bringing them into the Hall of the Grandfathers, the Prince and Princess are under attack by wave after wave of courtiers, wellwishers, make up artists, tailors, and every other type of support staff imaginable, and somewhere a baby's howls fill the halls with a cacophony that only adds to the madness of the most memorable day since the previous King and Queen met their end at the hands of elvish alchemy.

Seeking respite, your instructor, Corinne, led you stealthily to one of the lower, less important garden terraces on the east side of the mountain, directly facing the morning sun. Snagging a low hanging apple, she tossed it to Doredan with an impish smile. "A moment of peace in a maelstrom of chaos, oui?" the regional tongue of Wissimvale shared a similar language structure with the trade tongue that had been adopted as the main language, but many of the older members of the populace still spoke with pronounced accents. How a woman who appeared in her mid thirties held such a strong accent was a mystery coming from a woman whose business was mysteries, hence, no one knew. She grabbed another apple and took a large bite, finishing it completely before continuing.

"There is a tradition amongst the elves of Everarbor. One that the visiting queen has INSISTED be honored. On the day of a marriage between two great houses, all who would attend the wedding must purchase an "unexpected" gift. How a gift is unexpected when this tradition outdates humans speaking eludes me, but no matter. It must also be purchased personally. A servant and a squad of guards is leading your younger brother to the market as we speak. It need not be expensive, or even useful, but in the words of the elvish Queen it should be "memorable and meaningful". I trust that you, unlike your baby brother, have not spent all your royal allowance on sweets and can make the trip to the market yourself?" She chuckles, and, as you have seen her do a hundred times in your lifetime, Corinne leaps over the balcony, skidding on her heels down the rocky slope of the mountain to reach the lowest terrace at hair-raising speed.

Spoiler: DC 14 Acrobatics or Athletics to Follow

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To take Corinne's favored path, or you can take the long way around through the castle and the chaos. Is Doredan a daring, dashing rogue?

Spoiler: DC 14 Investigation, With Advantage

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There is a note cunningly twisted to look like the stem of the apple. If you read it, you recognize a special ink used by Corinne that will disappear and render the note blank within the hour. It reads- "The High Priest of Damh is missing. Your Father and Mother are keeping it quiet so we do not look like fools to the Elvish Royal Party. I am heading into the city to tap my sources and try to locate him, but another set of eyes, eyes I trained to be sharp, would be more than welcome. Your target is a half-elf named Meriand Voskolm, wearing a prominant holy symbol of a spilling cup. If you find him and return him to his duties before the rehearsal, I'll tell you a hellacious, scandalous secret that will make your toes curl with how venomous it is."

Spoiler: OOC

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You may roll a Religion Roll against the DC's listed in Bill's spoiler as well.

Spoiler: Maker Kunnian the Gleeful

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The royal chamberlain, upon the prestigious Maker arriving, had led Kunnian to a guest's room in the lower part of the castle. The chamberlain seemed to be in a terrible rush, not bothering to give a tour, introduce to any of the plethora of exciting and daringly dressed people passing by, or even ask much of the Maker. "Good good. You are expected. Follow me, and I will lead you to your quarters, where you may wait until we have further instructions for you, Master Maker." A whirlwind trip through the castle later, and Kunnian was led to a section of smaller rooms meant for smaller dignitaries and diplomats.

The room was nice, if a bit cold and musty, as though it hadn't been used (or even thought of) in some time. An ample bed, large enough for even a tall dwarf, let alone a small gnome, a well made dresser with a mirror and a basin, a bell on a string for summoning servants, and... a note. The envelope was tucked into the top drawer of the dresser, under the sight line of the leaving chamberlain, but easily seen by the cunning and perceptive eyes of the gnomish guest. Written in flowing, loopy letters that seemed inefficient and exotic to regular gnomish script, the envelope bore Kunnian's name and title in full, along with a symbol for the Wyrdos.

"Elvish tradition dictates that all esteemed guests who are welcomed to a wedding of nobility bring an unexpected gift for the couple to be married. Do not feel the need to bankrupt yourself, Honored Maker, but we would be humbled if you would follow our rituals and bless our nuptials with a gift of meaning and memory. Though I recognize that it is likely you could craft such a gift with your abilties if rumors of your people are true, I would prefer a gift from the local market, if I had my choice. Delightfully yours, Princess Deidrenei Vallen'tal of Everarbor, Servant of the Great Forest and Master of Five Orbs."

Spoiler: Arcana DC 12

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Among the elves, it is customary to carry an arcane orb tuned to a specific school of magic. A master of five orbs has knowledge and proficiency of a magic user of considerable power.

Spoiler: Arcana DC 16

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It is customary for elves to only include titles detailing magic proficiency to peers in the art. For such a title to be used denotes exceeding amounts of respect.

Spoiler: Tramunbil Mabovoh

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Upon arriving in the city of Velein, Bill would be astounded to see the hustle and bustle of such a large settlement. It was almost as though an entire hive of humans and other humanoids was broken open. There were merchant caravans from afar come to fill the market with exotic trade goods, every tavern was packed to the common room floor with guests from near and far, and the castle itself was overrun with activity. Upon being announced at the gate, an under butler met Bill and sternly guided him to a quieter part of the castle.

"We have a problem. It is... not customary... but we may need you to be an understudy for the High Priest of Damh. He arrived early and went into the city to "oversee the holy celebration" and make sure it was... FESTIVE... enough. We haven't seen him since. He's a half-elven man bearing a holy symbol showing a spilling cup. We can't spare help right now, so we would ask two things of you, priest. Either find the High Priest and return him here in time for the rehearsal, or prepare to do the ceremony yourself. If it does come to that, you will need to secure some sort of special "unexpected" elvish gift for the royal couple. Some silly knife ea... I mean, some important elvish rite of some sort for noble weddings. We've been reassured that it needn't be expensive, but it should be memorable or show..." He sighs. "Personal meaning? Whatever that means... either way, we hope that you can find the High Priest, but if you can't... get yourself ready, master harrengon, because the Kingdom needs you." He points back towards the main gate, mutters a few basic directions to get to the market, and ushers you back out towards your new mission before splitting off for some other task. He does not even ASK you. Quite rude.

Spoiler: Religion DC 10

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The nearest High Priest of Damh is Meriand Voskolm, a half-elvish cleric who maintains a cathedral near the border of Wissimvale and Everarbor in the Pass of Falling Arrows.

Spoiler: DC 15

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Meriand, being born of an unsanctioned union between deserters of both militaries in the War of the Clipped Coin, has been an avid supporter of peace between Wissimvale and Everarbor for the last thirty years or so. He maintains a cathedral cut into the contested Pass between the two nations, preaching peace and encouraging desertion. Both nations frown on his efforts, but neither will risk the wrath of Damh by striking his temple.

Spoiler: DC 20

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It is possible that no one has worked harder for this peace than Meriand, and it is very suspicious that he is not lending a direct hand in supervising the union that will secure peace for generations.

Spoiler: The Magus, Hylusi Quaternaros

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While the humans of the castle rushed about like ants in a kicked nest, the Elvish contingent, filling a full wing of the Castle high on the mountain, was quiet. Not that people weren't busy preparing for the union, but most of the preparations for Princess Deidrenei's wedding had been completed while her husband-to-be was in diapers. Back then it was assumed that the third-daughter would be married off to some High Elvish noble to secure an alliance, or a Wood Elf Viridian Lord of the Deep Forests as part of the Rite of Grafted Branches. Hells, theree was even rumor that Queen Vallen'tal would marry her third daughter off to one of the Sorcerer-Kings of the far east in an attempt to produce offspring who were even more magically inclined. But the husband mattered little to the preparations of a daughter of Everarbor nobility. What mattered is what could be gained through the union.

Princess Deidrenei stood in the center of her chamber while seamstresses did final checks on her dress. Radiant white moonstones dotted the silk lattice that made up a dress that was simultaneously revealing and demure, radiant and simple, intricate and beautiful, depending on the angle one viewed it from. "Lower in the bosom, I should think." The Princess said. "I want to see Prince Monsinar flush through his dark skin when he sees me in this." Holding entirely still, Princess Deidre flicked her eyes, causing an ethereal hand to turn the page of a book on a stand in front of her. "Magus..." Again, she did not move, but Hylusi felt the attention of her lady turn to her even as he head remained entirely still. "We have informed the humans of the expectations of the Unexpected Gifts. I know, and old ritual, but one that is called for when dealing with a wedding of this gravity. My mother may not consider this wedding befitting of the greatest of rites, but I do. And, as my lady, my magician, and my servant, I wish you to be present for both the rehearsal and the vows. You will be my curled bicep, a show of my strength that the humans cannot fully understand that will keep them from considering my own magical prowess as a Master of Five Orbs. And, as you will be included in the wedding party, it is necessary that you also participate in the Rite of Unexpected Gifts." She twitches her eyes again, and the hand goes to a nearby table and picks up a purse that has been prepared, gently tossing it to her Magus. "Fifty golden Everarbor acorns. Let their merchants fret and worry about whose coins are worth more and whether or not they can afford to make a fuss. You know the old ways as well as I- it need not be lavish, but it should bear the weight of meaning and memory." For the first time in nearly an hour of this fitting, one side of the Princess' mouth turns up into a smile. "If you chance by it... find something exotic, but practical from one of the foreign merchants. I want to see if my husband-to-be can puzzle the purpose of whatever it is you find. I'll owe you a bottle of fractal ink if you manage to stump me as well."

Spoiler: DC 0 Arcana

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Fractal Ink is one of the ways magic users craft spellbooks and scrolls.

Spoiler: DC 5

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Magic supplies used for crafting are often traded between practitioners of the art at a higher value that mere coins. Some mages even consider coins an insult.

Spoiler: Hylusi Knows

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As a Master of Five Orbs and a member of the royal family, Deidre has a special account with the most esteemed magic shop in the bows of the Great Oak back home. Her fractal ink is of the utmost quality and resonates with magic more strongly than what most mages have access to. A bottle of it is no big deal for her, but a great boon to less wealthy and connected mages. It is a generous gift between friends, and not one that she would give freely to someone she didn't trust and value.

Spoiler: Felicity Fourhooves

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When Felicity first arrived at the castle, the popular opinion was that she would have an honored place- in the lower stable. However, Prince Monsinar himself had insisted that, as a servant of the Crown, she be given a room in the castle meriting a foreign dignitary. The humans tended to look upon Felicity with mixed confusion and uncertainty, but the Crown Prince had never treated her strangely or differently. In fact, ever since the centaur had saved the life of his younger cousin Monsinar had treated Felicity as a friend and perhaps even a confidant of sorts. More than most, she knew he bore a great weight with the burden of royalty on his shoulders like a yolk, he was anxious as could be about marrying a woman he'd met less times than can be counted on one hand, but he was determined to do his duty, protect his people, and do right by the oaths he'd sworn to his parents.

He also realized that he would have less and less time to meet with his friends after the marriage, and had begun sending notes to those closest and most loyal to him. Sometimes they were as innocuous as a silly joke, other times they were of dread seriousness, with true insight into his thoughts and feelings and instructions to burn them after reading them. They were often in unexpected places, and it was rumored that the Prince had been given a secret map of Velein Castle with secret passages that led everywhere. And so it was unexpected, but only moderately so, when Felicity found a hand addressed note from the Crown Prince in her closet as she chose her nicest clothing for the festivities.

"Felicity- I feel like a prisoner in my own home! Bound in chains of tradition and ritual, dressed in a uniform of silk and royal dyes, but a prisoner nonetheless. Now my wife-to-be is informing us of some ancient Rite of her people to bind the marriage in the eyes of her ancestors or something. Either way, I have a task that I must unfortunately ask of you. Ever since you pledged yourself as my sword, I've felt uncomfortable asking you for favors, as though instead of friend to friend I was ordering you as liege to servant, and that has never been how I've felt around you. But despite this, I must allow some of my "royal authority" to slip into this request.

I must ask you three tasks-

First task- as a member of my esteemed wedding party, I need you to buy an "Unexpected Gift" for me and my bride-to-be, and it must be purchased before the rehearsal this afternoon. I wish I had more notice for you, but trust me, it was a last minute order from the Queen of Everarbor. It doesn't have to be expensive, but it does have to come from the heart apparently. I've never known someone so honest and forthright as you, so I know you'll have no issue finding something meaningful. Perhaps something that reminds you of home? My second brother might just be spreading rumors, but Doredan said that there was a centaur merchant in the market pulling a cart. If you require funds you may ask the chamberlain. I'm sure he will pinch every copper, but he knows you serve me and will not deny you.

Secondly- the High Priest of Damh who is supposed to do the ceremony hasn't been seen since yesterday. Father and Mother don't want the Elves to know we've got issues, so they're trying to keep only our most trusted agents informed of the situation. As my sworn sword, I'm asking you- Meriand Voskolm, High Priest of the God of Festivities is missing somewhere in the city, and we need HIM back before the rehearsal as well.

Third- Have some fun today! I'm buried in obligations in anxiety, but that doesn't mean that one of us can't have a good time! I've given special order to the staff to make sure there is room for someone of your size and shape in the dancing that will go on this evening. I told you I'd see those hooves do a two-step, and I won't take no for an answer!"