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The Fellowship of the Sword
August 1st, open thread
Emberverse-Main

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Katie

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#1
Luthien sat in a private room at the Wandering Moon, waiting for her comrades to arrive. She'd been here in the Hub for a month, and in that time, she'd seen many wonderful and amazing things, and met people from a hundred different worlds.
She'd also met many people-heroes, rogues, and outright villains. Always with an eye to finding people who'd join her Fellowship, or rather the Sword's fellowship. Not knowing what it was she was to do, or when, but knowing that she'd need good and true Companions by her side, because the Quest, whatever it was, would be dangerous.

She still didn't know what the Quest was. All she knew was that three nights ago, she'd had a Vision, and in that Vision, she and her Companions had been standing around the Stone at Lost Lake, their hands clasped on The Sword. Then, Luthien had heard her own voice saying "NOW". There was a flash of light, and then the Lady was standing in front of her, and saying "Leave in two days time." That had been the whole of the vision, and if there had been less information that she'd have liked, it was more than she'd known earlier.

More to the point, it had given her a timetable, so she had summoned n her Companions and tell them to say their good-byes and pack their gear.
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Dungeons and Dragons-Forgotten Realms

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Mike

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#2
Arjay wasn’t sure what the next few days would show him. He’d pledged himself to this cause, had gone so far as to suggest what friends he had in this place, but in reality, he knew very little of what they had in store. This could be a battle against an army, it could be a mission of diplomacy. They could be walking into near certain death, they could be on their way to a much more relaxing time. He didn’t think, however, that whatever the objective of this quest was would be easy. Nor did he think that her showing up at his doorstep to initiate it narrowed down the possibilities. In a way, he embodied all of the important aspects of his people. He was a poet, a sorcerer, a musician, and a warrior… in no particular order.

He’d finished his preparations, securing his possessions in his room, magically locking it. His sword hung at his side, his lute at his back, and his traveling cloak hung around his shoulders. It had been some time since he’d been off on a journey, on a quest, but here he was again. Apparently, he wasn’t past his prime yet, no matter how he often felt.

Smiling at Luthien as he entered the room, Arjay bowed, then took a seat at the table. “Should I have some wine brought in? I had a friend once who said that no good, possibly dangerous quest should be embarked upon completely sober. Of course, he was a dwarf, and I doubt he’d ever really been sober in his life, but we always did try to indulge the sentiment a bit.”
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

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Moon

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#3
Queth rolled her shoulder awkwardly- frowning at the sensation. Having heard about this quest- and knowing that it would be in a lesser tech world- the elf had had her friend inscribe some minor protective wards on her cybertech. Regardless of whether she had been informed that her important tech would still function- she had some nerves about the expedition.

But she figured if she was ever going to venture into a low tech world- it would be best to do so when there were a number of people around her so that someone would throw her back through if she started gasping for air.

Queth quietly took a seat in the gathering, not bothering to announce her presence past a nod at the leader of the quest, before she started unpacking all of her compartments. It had been strange for her to find the things she might need for this quest, considering how rarely she actually needed a full night's sleep or proper food.

Still she had a sack with some soybased food that wouldn't go bad and a canteen of clean water. The cyborg figured she'd have to wait until she knew for certain where they were going before she stopped to grab some not anachronistic clothing for the world. She started laying out her knives in front of her to make a proper mental tally (with a short note to herself to return the pistols and other things to her car before they began this quest).

She did favour short and pointy but she had picked up a wicked sharp katana recently and was looking forward to playing with it.
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DC-DCTVU

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Raven

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#4
Thea had originally moved to Gotham in an attempt to find her purpose, make a difference, get away from the spoiled rich girl aura that seemed to cling to her in Starling City. In a perverse way, moving to Gotham had been a kind of vacation. But in her months there she’d never realized how much she needed a vacation from the vacation. Until she’d come to the Hub and had her sense of what was possible blown up to a whole new level. This place seemed to guide her toward what she needed.

When she’d first walked into The Wandering Moon she’d chuckled, “I guess I need a drink.” But despite the bartender being excellent - she knew, she used to own a club - it wasn’t the beverages that were the highlight of the Middle Earth styled establishment. It was the people, with their stories and adventures that astounded even a resident of Gotham.

“Man, I come from a place where using a sword and bow to help people makes me an oddball… what I’d give to be someplace where people wouldn’t look at me funny when I challenged some jerk at swordpoint,” she’d said at one point to a table of people who looked like they came from a LARP except their clothing and weapons were very very real. “Luthien,” one of them had said, and nodded toward a woman with fantastically braided blond hair.

Which brought her to tonight, walking into a room of strangers all dressed for adventure. She’d thought of wearing her beloved Speedy costume, but red didn’t exactly blend in, so she was dressed in Artemis green, her twin swords sheathed across her back, her bow slung over one shoulder. Her bloodlust was kept at bay, yet there was a glimmer in her eye that spoke of hoping there was a fight in her near future.
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Supernatural-N/A

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Jasmine

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#5
As weird-ass portal dimensions went, Dean had concluded, the Hub really wasn't that bad. It had a couple bars, and a good amount of strippers, and so far as he could tell, no demons or ghosts or ghouls or angels or anything else that needed hunting. All in all, not a bad place to have fallen into. Back home, Sam and Cas were probably worried, but Dean figured there was a good chance that between Cas's angelic senses and all the nerd gadgets in the bunker, at least one of them had figured out that a portal had been open and would figure out how to open it again. Or hell, maybe Sam hit another dog and wasn't even looking. Whatever the case, with no exit from the Hub obvious, Dean had settled into an easy routine of driving into town--the city that popped out of nowhere--and passing the days at any of the Hub's establishments talking to the residents.

Problem was, he was getting bored. He hadn't taken more than a week off in... well, a long time. Not since before Purgatory, at least. So when he heard rumors that someone was in need of warm bodies to go on some sort of "quest," he'd been, well, interested. A chance to stretch his legs, get in a little action, and hopefully do some good while he was at it. And after Purgatory, he could deal with no technology. Hell, it might even be fun.

So he'd collected his best knives and his two favorite machetes and an angel blade and stowed them in a duffel along with whatever else seemed like it might come in handy (a length of chain, a few snacks, bottle of whiskey). Then he'd left a note for Sam on the off chance he was looking this time, parked the Impala, and made his way to the Wandering Moon Inn.

He found the group sitting around a table and sauntered over. Two Nordic-looking types dressed like they were on their way to a Renaissance Fair, and one chick with an impressive collection of knives laid out on the table and another with two swords and a bow slung over her back. Seemed like a good sign.

Dean slung his bag onto the table with a loud clank. "Hope I'm not late to the party here," he said. "I'm Dean. Where are we going?"
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DC- DC-TV-1

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Kel

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#6
Belle wiggled her nose tightening the straps of her pack; she'd gone back home long enough to file for all her vacation in one go, pay up her apartment for two months-(that had taken more or less all her savings)- call her mama, get her blessing for new life plan and-

Watch it half blow up.

Well done and fine.

Belle had marched home, collected her old camping gear, made up a pack stuffed full of food and books. She might not have a photographic memory but she had a damn good one! No novels, but printouts and slim survival guides, handy herbalism and plant volumes.

Flannel, canvas, refined sugar Belle figured that on a world where technology had died treats like chocolate where damn scarce. All went into her pack.

She'd done a few small trades of her own in the time she'd been in Hub and managed to get a bag that was bigger on the inside, allowing her to pack everything her unprepared and paranoid little heart could imagine.

Powder milk and- Belle nodded firmly slipping several tins of baby formula, you never knew, in just in case.

If there was any kinda economy Belle could should be able to trade her manufactured goods for simple times like fresh food. She still filled a bottomless pocket with good hearty things like bacon, potatoes, eggs, and lots of vitamins.

She wasn't a medic, but Belle filled a side of the backpack with kits from Walmart, bug spray, netting, fishing hooks.

As long as she kept ahold of the pack Belle thought she was safe.

And considering the make up of the group she encountered once she'd gathered her courage to go...Belle was pretty sure of two things, 1) she didn't need to worry about fighting and 2)...they needed someone like her.

Old well worn hikiking boots didn't squeak as she made her way to one of the tables, Belle looked more like a woman about to go camping with her jeans, flannel shirt(that struggled mightily to stay closed over her chest) and hair neatly pinned back in a French braid. Oh and of course the gigantic pack strapped to her back.
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Marvel-MCU

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Nyte

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#7
“Language!”

Steve had returned to his own world on his birthday. Finding his portal had been easier than he’d thought it would be, once he actually started looking for it. Still, going back had been a hard thing to do; his life there was in pieces, as many as it was here, and the situation worse there. Here in Hub, at least he wasn’t a criminal. That couldn’t be said for him back home.

Here, however, that lack of being a criminal meant that he could still do some good, still help some people. And Arjay had introduced him to Luthien, who needed the sort of help he could, perhaps, provide.

His time in Hub had done him well. He was more together now than he had been, at least about what he had done and that he’d been wrong. And while he was, he would admit, a ‘hot mess’ when it came to the relationship he had with Tony; both or either of them, but aside from that glaring situation, Steve was on the mend.

Steve had hated leaving his phone with Tadashi on his bed, plugged in. He’d told Tad what he was doing, and why, and then headed to Arjay’s tavern. He liked the Wandering Moon; it had good food and good company. And he’d liked Luthien enough to want to come and help her. So he had told Tony that he was heading off on a quest, and that he would check in when he could, but he had to leave his phone (and Tad) behind. Entering into the tavern, Steve moved to take a place at the table with the sizeable group, amongst whom he saw both Luthien and Arjay and moved to sit as near to them as he could, carrying his weapons, a shield, the clothes on his back, and his belt with so many pockets, all of which were full. “Luthien,” he nodded to the ranger, and then offered his friend a wider smile, ”Arjay.”

“That’s not going away anytime soon.”
*
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Emberverse-Main

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Katie

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#8
Luthien looked around the room. She knew some of her Companions better than others, but she was confident in their abilities, and all of them seemed ready and eager to set forth. Part of her wished that she'd managed to recruit the canonical Nine, but she comforted herself with the reminder that seven was a lucky number as well. There were seven stars in the arms of Gondor, which the Rangers had taken as their device, for a start. Not to mention the fact that she had more Elves, and fewer Hobbits than the Fellowship of the Ring had boasted.

Technically she didn't have any Hobbits, but after five minutes conversation, Luthien had realized that Belle was cut from the same cloth as Samwise, even if, in this case, the cloth had been sewn into the shape of a deliciously curved human woman. This had been welcome news to Luthien, she'd been on expeditions where there was a competent person to run the camp and ones where there weren't and she much preferred the former.

The rest of her Companions were equally reassuring, all of them had the look of seasoned warriors, ready to face any sort of danger. "Yes, I think so." Luthien said, smiling at her Elven lover (and that was a strange and wonderful thing, all in itself) "Just enough for a glass each, but we should toast our Quest and our Companions before we set out for Lost Lake."

She glanced over at Dean-he and Queth were the ones she knew the least, and said "Not late at all. We are bound for Lost Lake, and the portal, and after that I do not know, save that the Sword of the Lady will guide us." she smiled, looking around the room at her Companions "I see that all of you are ready for a long journey, and a dangerous one, and I am glad to see that." she opened up the map, and spread it on the table before her. It was one produced by the Geography Department of the great University of Corvallis, printed onto thin silk imported from New Singapore at great expense, and printed with bright, colorfast inks that were almost as expensive as the silk. It was one of a set that Beren had given her as a marriage gift, its mates were stowed in her pack.

Lutien pointed at the map, which clearly showed western North America, although the political divisions were wildly different than any of the ones her Companions might have seen. "The portal will let us out here, at Lost Lake." she pointed at a spot near what was labeled Mount Hood on the map. "I do not know where the Sword of the Lady will send us after that. But most likely we will travel from there to the Ranger Steading at Stath Lavassir, and then continue from there to Portland. The first day we will be on foot, and it will be a hard day's walk, but the Rangers will guest us, and give us horses or bicycles to travel on to Portland." as she spoke, Luthien realized that she had no idea how many of her Companions could ride a horse, but they could cross that bridge when they came to it. "I do not think we will have any trouble the first day or two, not in the heart of Montival, but we must still be on our guard."

A server had brought a carafe of wine as Luthien was speaking, along with seven glasses. She filled them and passed them around to her Companions.
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Dungeons and Dragons-Forgotten Realms

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Mike

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#9
Arjay hadn’t known that Quethadia was going to be coming along, but that was all well and good with him. He was, admittedly, still curious about the other elf, and this would give him a chance to learn more about her. There were few things that one couldn’t learn about a person by seeing them in combat, and this quest would probably provide them with ample opportunity for that.

The presence of so many archers that he had come across had made Arjay feel somewhat smug about his own world’s weapons of choice, as compared to these other worlds and their pistols. Apparently, some people still saw the benefit of the more traditional weapons, did they not? If nothing else, this would give him some people he could practice his trade with… there was no sense in making enchanted swords and arrows if there was no one to appreciate them, now, was there? He’d have to watch this one, he decided, nodding a greeting to Thea as he continued to check his gear.

Dean, he admittedly knew nothing about, except that there was something about the man that spoke of competence. He wasn’t an obvious warrior, he didn’t appear to be a mage or even one of the ‘scientists’ from the Earth-worlds that were apparently so plentiful, but there was something about him that told him that the man was dangerous. The way his bag hit the table told Arjay that he was probably right in this assessment. Yet another person to keep an eye on, if only for pure curiosity involved.

The next woman to arrive, of course, was someone else worth keeping his eye on, but this time for purely aesthetic reasons. This one, Arjay was sure wasn’t a dangerous person. Oh, she seemed to be competent, of course, and anyone could be dangerous in a pinch, but that didn’t strike him as her nature. No, the reason his eyes lingered on her had purely to do with the empathic hum of approval from the goddess-blessed sword at his hip, which he knew could be rather accurately be translated as a metaphor. What, exactly did that woman look like when she wasn’t dressed for function rather than fashion? Perhaps, if the goddess was willing, he’d have a chance to find out.

Steve arrived last, leaving Arjay feeling a bit relieved. Life had been… difficult, of late, for Steve, and Arjay wouldn’t have been able to complain much if the man hadn’t been able to make the journey they were about to undertake, but here he was, and he was glad to see him. He smiled at his friend, nodding toward the empty chair he’d kept for him, closing the last of his packs and setting it on the table.

Luthien’s explanation for the start of their journey was, of course, satisfactory, and more of a plan than he’d had at the start of several journeys he’d undertaken. “What is the hunting like?” he asked, his gaze sliding over the map, trying to get a sense of the distances involved and slowly gaining that perspective. “If we’ll be in an area where the hunting and foraging is going to be on the leaner side, I have food ready that we can take, though we’ll need to split it among us.” He certainly wasn’t going to carry all of it, and carrying food in bags of holding tended to give… mixed results. “If we’re going to be able to purchase food from settlements along the way… I assume gold still passes as acceptable currency?” It was usually the case, he’d found, though not universally so, which was why he wanted to make sure before they left.
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

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Moon

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#10
Queth watched with vague interest as the room started filling up. A girl with a bow? Interesting. Queth could only hope that she got on better with this archer than the last one she had met- that had been a train wreck from start to finish. The next person was someone who seemed more her speed. Heavily armed, functional clothing, a seemingly no nonsense attitude- Queth's attention peaked as she noticed him checking out people's swords. She'd have to see about getting him one.

Another cutie who Queth had no idea who has- aces. Queth was used to meeting with people she didn't know for quests but she was admittedly unfamiliar with the fixer coming with- or being familiar with any of them on a personal level. (Not that the elf would be against being on a personal level with the lovely woman leading them.) The last question entered the room while Queth was in the middle of an internal rant. This one was recognizable at least. She was pretty certain there had been some movies about him in the earlier 2000s. Captain America- Queth suddenly wondered how he would feel about the fact that the U.S.A. had dissolved in her world- or at least become the United States of Canada and America. She resolved to ask him at some point- though after the Quest. No point in bringing up something potentially divisive until then.

When Luthien spoke up again, Queth took that as a sign that all of the people running this quest had gathered. Queth leaned forward in her chair to look at the map as it was spread out- amused to see a North America at least as fractured as her own. Perhaps there would be no point in bringing up the decay of his country to Captain America after all. She listened calmly, though her eyes shot up to meet the lady with the sword when Queth's home was mentioned. Mercy could she still call it her home when she hadn't more than dipped through Tir Tairngire in a decade?

Presumably since it was inhabited by long lived folks like herself. When Arjay commented- the smuggler took that as an opening to ask questions. "And for those of us who either choose not to or find meat hard to digest- What's the edible plantlife like?" She added seriously- eating meat would just be a really good way to knock her out of the quest with overwhelming indigestion. She hummed at arjay's offer of food. "I too have a selection of food- though for some reason a number of your worlds have something against soy based products so I understand if none of you have any interest." She added with a smirk- more for her, and soy was almost indistinguishable from the actual food it was made to resemble in her world.

She took the glass of wine thankfully, though she set it down and didnt touch the drink itself. She would toast with the rest of them- but she wasn't certain what the proper etiquette was. She shook her head to clear that thought before realizing a number of them would not know her. "I'm Quethadia though you can call me Queth." Queth said to the other quest goers. "Can you tell me what kind of clothing we should be wearing for this?" She asked blandly.

[Ooc: so sorry for the delay won't happen again.]
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Emberverse-Main

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#11
"It would be best to bring enough food for a two days." Luthien replied "Lost Lake, and the land around it, for half a day's journey is Crown Land, and peace holy, and its geasa-forbidden-to hunt there, or to gather plants, unless in case of dire need. The foresters who watch over the Lodge, and the land around the lake know their business, and take it seriously. We wouldn't have any trouble-I have a letre de cachet from the Crown that gives us permission to do whatever we need, but I'd as soon not draw attention to us, or our errand."

Looking at Queth she said "There are plenty of edible plants, and no one will look at you askance if you do not eat meat-many in Montival abstain from flesh-food, at least at times." either for religious reasons, or because they couldn't afford it, although it had been a boast since the days of King Artros I that in Montival even the poorest peasant ate meat once a week, and most did a bit better than that.

"So, let us toast our Quest, and then begin our journey."


(This thread is now closed for posting. Action will continue in another thread. Please note that the thread has been re-dated to August 1st)
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