WOT Adv 284

Returning to the thriving coastal city of Falme brought back the many memories of their last visit. As they walked through the city streets, evading hawkers and merchants and the evening crowds that thronged the city, Eliesanna and Fiznak filled Vaid in on the details of the recent events they had struggled through: the search and rescue of Megda Sedai from the Seanchan; the sacrifice of Thenlir; the arrival of the Whitecloaks; the battle between Seanchin and the Whitecloaks; and heroes of legend driving the invaders back into the sea. But most vividly etched in their minds, was the terrible battle between two men in a sky atop roiling clouds, wreathed with shafts of incandescent lightning. As they made their way about Falme, rumor begat rumor. Some said it was a battle between the Dark One and the Dragon. Others that it was the final battle. And yet other still that it was just a precursor to a final battle that was yet to come.

The city was in a gradual state of repair following the damages it suffered in the recent fighting just some days past now. Scaffolding surrounded some of the larger buildings and recent stone and woodwork repairs were visible on several buildings. Other sections had been burned and ruined beyond repair.

The Wind Song Inn, unfortunately, was one of those. It had been completely gutted, and was a burned out husk. Black soot still clung to the cobbled paving stones around the building. After some asking about for an alternative place to stay, Maeslyn took the companions to the Inn of the Silver Chalice and paid for private rooms for everyone. Sailors from the White Swan followed at a respectful distance and also took up residence. The building was a sprawling two story establishment of relatively recent build. Following the demise of the Wind Song Inn, it now found itself in the enviable position as one of the premier inns in the city.

The companions spent the remainder of the evening in the cheery common room listening to gossip and tales told in high chant from three very skilled gleeman.

That evening prior to turning in for the night, while the others were either asleep or in the common room listening to a retelling of tales of old, Maeslyn spoke in private to Fiznak in her room. She sat at a small, but ornate desk, and pulled out a small chest about two hand-spans long and a hand span high and set it atop the desk. It was cunningly carved of oak and stained and polished until it gleamed in the lamplight.

She rested her hand on the lid and spoke, looking up into his face, her eyes holding his. “We are trailing after darkfriends and who knows what else. I want to ensure that we, and especially you, my heart, are provided with the best of equipment for any future encounters.”

She inserted a small silver key and the latch clicked. She raised the lid. Fiznak's eyes widened when he found the chest filled to the brim with hundreds of gleaming gold crowns. A score or two of these crowns could buy a man a finely wrought blade or a fine horse. Four or five score could procure a blade of exquisite workmanship. There must be hundreds of coins.

“Maeslyn, this is a lot of money, surely--”

“I trust you,” was all she said.

“How did you keep it from the whitecloaks? Surely when they captured you they--”

Her eyes hardened at the mention of whitecloaks and her mouth pulled down into a thin line. After a moment's struggle she regained her composure. “Do you forget that I am tower trained? I do have certain...skills.” she replied with a mysterious smile and a twinkle of green eyes.

“Now as my warder,” she smiled teasingly at the term; for he and she both knew he would not hold that term in truth until they were bonded by the One Power, a weave of power she did not yet know nor was permitted to perform until she was raised as a full sister at the White Tower, “one of your duties will be to see to supplies and logistics, lodging and the like.”

The sum staggered him, and the responsibility doubly so, but he took the chest and nodded solemnly.

She rose gracefully and her eyes grew serious. She padded toward him. Her hair has down and framed her face and green eyes in its luxurious waves. "My heart," she spoke softly and placed her right hand on his chest. "Purchase well. I have no skill for fine swordwork, armor, and other artifice of war. Yet I sense a storm is coming. Not one of rain and wind but one of power and conflict. And I fear that we--that you--" her eyes dropped for a minute and then came up glistening, and he saw the fear. "--that you will be at the heart of it."

He clasped his hand in hers and nodded. She placed a light kiss on his cheek, so light that it was as if a butterfly had graced his skin. "Now my borderlander," she whispered in his ear as she pulled away, "I must sleep." Without another word, she ushered him outside and shut the door.

He stood outside in the hallway staring at the door as if willing it to open, and he had half raised his hand to knock. Then shook his head, and with the chest tucked under his cloak retired to his own room.

GM Note: Fizzy hope you didn't mind me typing your conversation. I only did it to speed things along. She gave you 500 gold crowns. That's 5000 silver marks. Also, it's late fall and so the weather is quite cold and will be winter soon. This means you may want to make sure the party has adequate winter clothing. It also means that there are not any gardens graced with greenery--so no nice dinner spot for you and your woman.
Masterwork weapons - Give +1 to attack. They are not power wrought blades so can break in combat etc, but are likely stronger than normal blades. Normally, they cost 300 silver marks plus the cost of the weapon, but procuring them on short notice will cost 50% extra.
Superior weapons - As above but they Give +2 to attack and normally cost 600 marks plus the cost of the weapon. Again 50% extra to obtain now.
This is party fund, so everyone chime in on what they want/need.