As Zerif stomps his way from the table and toward his room, there is a flick of gloomy shadow. Dyer stands in front of him, having simply rearranged himself and the very laws of the Eberon by force of will.

His voice is silly, almost jovial. "If I get killed you little..." the next sounds seems to burn and choke the ear, as it if not meant to be spoken so clearly by mortal mouths. Small flecks of blood come spitting out with it. Even as it seems to hurt Dyer to speak the word, it does not for a moment effect his cadence. "...it will be acting as I see fit."

"There is an old saying." Dyer continues, then again begins using sounds that almost spark in the air. A murky florescence seems up from the dragon mark resting just below his collar, allowing him to speak the phrose with an impeccableness made even more unnatural due to the very horrid origins of language he is drawing on to convey his ideas. The words come out as a burst of hisses and croaks. "The best you might understand that to mean is, Never draw blood less you intend to take the heart."

Dyer then steps aside, "That is a bit of counsel I suggest you learn from, or it might be best if you and I part company."


(by the way, I liked the journal. I have also always enjoyed games that require role playing and thinking things out rather than just rolling and set combat. That can sometimes mean starting a fight unexpectedly, or avoiding the voilence all around the characters. This last game worked out really well. Let me know if we need to switch the next game to this coming weekend. I actually think that might work better for me than the 27th)

As Aaron plays Breven and well....the law, I think it might be up to him if Zerif is allowed to leave. Especially after that commotion

I think with being released there would not be much he could hold me on no proof and an alibi about where I was when the boat was stolen ( to the best of most everyone’s knowledge I was have a fling with Jax)

Zerif looks at Dyer with a cold stair utilizing all his stage training the keep the unease out of his voice.
“Dyer if I wanted to kill you I would slit your throat in the dead of night and you would never see it coming, but seeing as I seen you as a friend and college a right hook will do. However if you ever pull another stunt like that again without considering what the repercussion on the others might be I might not be so kind”
Zerif looks dead into Dyer’s eyes and offers him a hand in truce.

Quickly goes around the room killing everyone and bathing in the blood lol jk

Dyer just remains unmoving. Letting Zerif speak.

Then there is a pause, and without any inflection.

"You do not learn."

Then silence.

Keyleth being confused as ever I though we were to meet at this place like he requested?! Oh well.. this drink isn't going to drink it self!!

(Not to knock things off the RP side of things, but I wanted to make it clear that August 27th is a non-play day and therefore, we are shooting for August 20th. Hopefully everyone can be there.)

Dyer looks down at Fang after Zerif departs.

"He really does not seem to understand...though, I wonder if you might. There seems an increasingly able nature about you that I had not previously accredited. Might you be some fey species of canine? A spirit form animal of sorts?" He gives a little sigh."Or just be it from some fortune of breeding?"

Dyer pulls a nearby chair forward, sits, and address Fang in a quiet conversational manner. Largely though, as he speaks it is apparent that he may just be muttering aloud rather than being concerned about if he is being attended to by an audience.

"I do not desire him harmed. Nor do I find a contest with him of any interest. Magic? Strength? Power? They have nothing to do with this debate."

Dyer gives a tired laugh. Clears his throat and continues.

"And Souls? They are routinely sold, but few seem to notice it. Many trade them for skills with blades. That is much more the case than being purchased by any Old Ones, given in barter for arcane lore. Zerif himself seems eager to purchase his way through life in currency of blood, where ever it comes from. How much soul does one have, when they title someone friend while speaking of killing them in their bed?"

"But even that alone is of no matter. It is all part of a choice we each must make."

Coming back to himself, Dyer for a moment looks more intently down at Fang.

"That is what he should learn. The substance of making choices. And once made, all the actions that they necessitate."

"He must learn the importance of making the choice to draw blood."

Finally smudging away the bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, Dyer stands as his thoughts seem to wind to a conclusion.

"I may find his little temper tantrum amusing, but others will not. And they will smile. They will take his hand. But they will put a dagger in his spine once he turns his back. I might have offered a lesson, others will not give him a chance to learn. That, and his thinking that he is entitled to enforce his judgments on others, is the peril. It will in time claim him. Or us all. And I will have had nothing to do with it."

Sounds good

Fang watches Dyer while he speaks and maintains eye contact. She listens not only to his questions about her heritage but also about his thoughts on the mortal soul. She does not know how to answer. She does not know what she is. And the concepts Dyer speaks of are to complex for her. So she just listens and when Dyer is done talking, sighs and rests her head on his feet.

Dyer grins down at the warm, if a bit wet, muzzle resting on his boots.

"Then again, maybe the only choice you worry about is where to lay your head."

"Yet, I suppose I owe my attentive audience something after that lecture. At very least you have done me the favor of preventing the complete appearance of maddeness as I have sat here."

He looks over at Tiss and Keyleth a few tables over.

"If I heard that accurately, I'll take you up on that drink sir. But I think after this round I am best served by honeyed tal. For now, another mead."

Looking back down at his feet while absentmindly patting the fur he finds there, "And you Fang, what is it you would like? Perhaps the kitchen has some fresh rabbit or mutton. Maybe you just have a thirst, and would go for a bowl of thickened broth?"

A bit puzzled by Fang's lack of interest in food, Dyer shrugs "Next time perhaps?"

He slowly partakes of his mead while listening to Keyleth recite again her rant about Scarlet Jax's presence on the air ship. It seem like a sort of race, can she finish the story or the round first? After another pair of these sprints, with the beverage winning each time, he excuses himself from the table.

Dropping a few coins on the bar as he goes, Dyer really does not notice Fang following him toward the private back rooms he charters from time to time. The small solemn chambers provide an ideal place to spread out and study the his few journals and texts he currently has on him. He can even mediate there whenever it suits him. Dyer has been avoiding the trek back to the flat in Everbright more often of late, trying to avoid spending too much time on the streets and in easy view. His odd schedule and the little hours he spends at rest work out nicely with the off hour rates Tiss charges for tables in these private dinning rooms. He picks one at random, and nearly bumps Fang's nose when he tries to shut the door behind him.

He shrugs and holds the door for a moment longer, then begins unpacking his things out onto the table.

Great session today guys. I hope you guys enjoyed seeing the new terrain. Also, hope you are excited for the level up.

We need to figure out scheduling. I would love it if everyone could fill the following out with their best efforts at their schedules:

Aug 27th - No Game
Sept 3rd -
Sept 10th -
Sept 17 -
Sept 24 -

Thanks guys!

September 3- My little sister's birthday on the 1st so we may miss for a get together might be late enough though like mine so it maybe all good.

September 10-I suppose to host a "Going Away Party " for one of my dearest friends so I'm pretty positive this is a no go!!

As for the rest of the month (17 and 24) were all good that I know of.

After making a list of potion ingredients for Zerif, should he continue in his plan to acquire them rather than parting with any coins, Dyer finishes parceling out the gold into four neat piles and then collects his things. He shakes the remaining rain off his cloak. Dyer pauses to salt and wrap the section of flesh bearing the aberrant dragonmark he stripped from Daask gangleader, securing it for now in and oiled cloth. Making sure he is at least presentable to walk the streets, Dyer turns to leave.

"You will all excuse me," he says as he looks over at Fang "I have some things to look into. I will endeavor to return around nightfall. "

He steps back out into the rain, knowing it will be a few more hours before he can access the Mograve Univesity library but waiting to both make a few stops along the way and prepare himself for the return to campus. It has been little time for an Eladrin since he last traveled among those stacks, but it was in many ways a much different Dyer who existed those years ago. Yet there are books there he recalls seeing, including titles like The Codex of Flesh Altering Curses, A Catalog of Fey Beasts , and A Historical Account of the Gatekeepers-Daelkyr War.

But first, he must stop back at his flat to clean up, store the unusual sample he has acquired, and pen a few letters.

(Right now I think I'm good for whatever on dates, but my schedule is often only predictable about 2-3 weeks ahead.)