Valkur's Roar, After the Great Flood

[Ascension]

After the great wave, which hit the city of Valkur's Roar, a elven cleric of Corellon could be found in the temple of Hoar healing those injured and speaking of the towns people of the fact that Valkur had in-fact aided there city and despite damages, there losses would be far worse, and promoting to a minor degree the human's worship of the god Valkur and other goodie faiths. After the first day of this the elf would return to his responsibilities, returning to his place in the slums of teaching and healing those within it, and trying to aid the city in repairs.

[Dimitri]

Dimitri, clothed in his usual purple attire would be found with Eldarel for some of the day. Going from building to building and offering his assistance with manual labor anything he could assist with magically. Magical wards to people who need them, whether elemental resistances, strength or constitution blessings to people in need of assistance when there's heavy work to be done.

[Defunct Fiddlesticks]

Upon word of the flood reaching the rest of Cormyr, a white-robed healer suddenly appears in he city accompanied by two men bearing the uniform of the Triadic Order, the healer offers support to the ongoing efforts and his colleague working out of Talbot's inn.

He also seeks out the elven cleric to offer his help if it is required.

When no longer needed, the healer and his escort move on.

[Deleted]

A foul smelling woman in dark leathers arrives, offering her aid in whatever needs doing at the time. She'd prove to have some skill and knowledge in medical matters and herbalism. During this, she'd try and avoid conversation and working in teams as much as is reasonable.

[Defunct Fiddlesticks]

A Valkuran Captain in deep blue clothing studies the shrine of his god, helping out and titheing a large sum to help in its recovery.

After, he strolls the waterfront talking to sailors and offering to bring his god's blessing to any vessel that wants it.

[ladyphoenix]

Soon after the flood, a priestess of Mystra is seen in the city doing all that she can to tend the wounded. She lacks the ability to raise the dead but most of those alive she works her best to tend.

[Savoie Faire]

The great roaring wave which passed up the River Tun, destroying the Corsair Fleet in its passing, did little harm to the city itself. Other than wooden fences and sheds, the stone city withstood the floods which washed over the banks. Though some city folk were injured, most were inside stone walled buildings at the time, and the majority of the city guard was involved in defending the city from atop walls.

The vast majority of those injured or killed were pirates, though some adventurers were swept away in the wave's passing. Though some city folk were injured or killed, the primary consequence of the wave's passing is the debris and mud left behind.

If there can be any good news from all of this: six Corsair ships were captured or recovered intact after the wave, and are now being outfitted in Valkur's Roar harbor for the defense of Valkur's Roar. It is uncertain if they will be under Blue Dragon command and crewed by the Cormyte Navy or if they will be commanded by Valkur's Roar and crewed by the VR Guard.

[Alizarin Spion - Sleeper Agent]

The gentleman, scholar and merchant known by some as Eishur can be sighted at the scene. With Arcane aid, using minor cantrips, the man sweeps the streets off mud and in-between the sweeping the same gentleman can be seen searching the dead pirates for any remaining loot or paper documents that hasn't been completely ruined by water.

[ren]

Elon wanders the poorer sections of Valkur's Roar....healing with herb remedies and healing kits to those who cannot afford such supplies themselves.

[Hackmaster]

DM Savoie Faire
FRC DM Team
*****
FRC DM

With contributions to the story from the player perspective of Phelzaron




Phelzaron wasn't used to being helpless. When he had been taken from his family by the Red Wizards he had been proud. When his classmates failed tests, or were taken for experiments which left them dead or worse he had been confident. When he renounced his ties to Thay he had been defiant, a burning tower in his backdrop, a befriended childhood slave his unlikely rescuer and in turn, helped his slave friend of the North, escape with him.

When Phelzaron became a War Wizard of Cormyr after the war with Devils and Demons he had been arrogant. Elevated to Lord Protector of Skullcrag and moved into a tower he realized he was Cormyr's adopted son despite his background and walked with a far more nobler air then he had ever before. Knowing the tower's wards would fail, with Mystras Celestials help, he resealed the prison underneath and abandoned the tower after getting grudging and slightly bitter permission from the Crown to leave the War Wizards service. With all that he has seen, all that he had done, he arrogantly believed he could not be touched. Not by Thay, not by Cormyr, not by corruption of his own power. He is a Lord, he is a Arch Necromancer, he is an leader. I will not be touched! But in all his years he did not have much belief in the idea of feeling completely helpless.

This was more and more a forgotten sensation, not one he had felt in ages. Not since the days he danced with a Shadow dragon and made poetry on the fly for her pleasure at the threat of being eaten because she....liked...him. Not since a powerful female Drow wizardess captured him and tortured him for her pleasure leaving him naked and blind in a the Regal Griffon cave for the town to find him. Not since the Archduke of the ninth attempted to seduce him to his side and repeatedly made Phelzaron's rejection be paid for by doing devastating things to Phelzaron's loved ones. So many things tried to tax him over the years, but this? How do you stop the power of a god? You don't...not directly so Phelzaron looked at the oncoming wave and a dark glow came to his face as he accepted his fate. He turned to stare into the wave and stepped in as it came...

The Corsair attack had been easy enough to turn back while he was in Suzail. Many adventurers were on the dock's, ready to face the pirate threat. Another day in their eyes....this too shall pass. Lord Phelzaron was in no different a mind set as he approached the scene. I will not be denied. Gareth greeted him on the dock. Well...we cannot lose now he mentioned to Lord Phelzaron. Lord Phelzaron acknowledged the compliment with a don't thank me yet response and noted the arrogance of Gareth, an up and coming master of the art in his own right a similar flaw of Phelzaron's. Arrogant like myself Phelzaron smiled and thought to himself, a real we got to help the people type like I once was all in all...a good but too idealistic man. Despite Phelzaron's attempt to dismiss their similarities, both renegade red wizards, both were for a time hunted by Thay, both completely unintimidated by threats anymore. A wizard will not be denied his mastery no matter who they are a common flaw in wizards and Gareth seemed no different. Gareth came into this battle with confidence and with Phelzaron approaching, Gareth seemed to already be figuring in his head who would have the highest body count and if the pirates would even get away.

The issue here was not the two wizard's power or even the considerable fighting skills of the adventurers fighting hard on the docks. True to Phelzaron's laziness with his magic, he did not even bother to cast offensive spells for this dock threat was no real threat....something is wrong he thought to himself. So Phelzaron waded into the numbers with other adventurers using his martial skills alone deciding the threat did not warrant magic. The combined strength of the adventurers was just too much for the raiding party but surely this cannot be it? Phelzaron scanned the harbor and soon realized....the pirates had no intentions on directly raiding the city. They are here to steal the slow and lumbering fat merchant ships. Worse...the Few navy ships springing into action in the harbor soon found themselves set upon as 12 Corsair ships sprung their trap. Everyone watched...unable to leave the docks, not able to help...looking out at the action...the merchants and the navy ships were doomed, it was just a matter of time....

In desperation, one adventurer dived into the water...her anguish and clear determination set to do something...anything to help the doomed sailors. Another exclaimed...can we not do anything? Gareth looked at Phelzaron and says....you're a Lord...commandeer a ship in the harbor...save them. Lord Phelzaron looked down at the dock and quietly spoke...Gareth...there is no crew and I am no sailor....I don't know how to command sailors on a ship, I know nothing about sailing even if I did commandeer one. Besides...look at what's left over....these ships are not outfitted for war or speed. I'm sorry but I would just be wasting more lives. Gareth stands defeated a moment then exclaims; what if we turn into dragons...we might turn the tide of battle!

Gareth...that is the stupidest idea you ever had, it's a wild stab in the dark, you're grasping at straws here....in the world of stupid, Ogres laugh at you because you got to wear the dunce cap today! Lord Phelzaron says sternly scolding him; I am only mad because you thought of it first though really, let's try it.

Gareth then exclaims OK! Can you uhh....can you uhh hold them off a while...I need some time to make this happen. Lord Phelzaron looks at him with a Are you kidding me look and groans. Phelzaron internalizes his thoughts once again trying to justify him leaving; This is Suzail...not Skullcrag damnit...Cormyr has not put a call out for me to defend her...Oh sure...the army and navy is strained from the recent war with Sembia...yeah yeah yeah....cry me a river from the Roar all the way to the Gorge!...Phelzaron would not know just how hard Cormyr would cry that river until later on. I'm not even supposed to be here today...he says as he transforms into a dragon. Lord Phelzaron runs toward the dock end and leaps into the air taking to flight. Thinking the whole time on the way to the battle....they better not shoot Ballista bolts at me...

Twelve Corsair ships coming closer to their targets, with a mighty roar, Phelzaron strafes the first three ships with a blast of fire aimed at their sails...one more pass he thinks to himself. He makes a second strafing run aimed at the sails just to make sure they were thoroughly inconvenienced. Well....that ought to slow this battle down a bit, with his final belched blast of fire, he commits to a full top deck blast on the first Corsair ship to send it's crew into chaos. The lead ship on fire Gareth comes into the battle and begins his own strafing runs. Indeed the tide of battle was changing in favor of the Cormyrian navy now and the Corsairs turned tail and ran. The merchant ships were then able to be recaptured by the Suzail navy ships.

Returning to the docks, Phelzaron lands and transforms back to himself along with Gareth. Gareth showing the wizard confidence everyone loves to hate celebrates a bit in a all in a days work. Lord Phelzaron remained reserved his usual paranoia in such matters kicking in he looks at the others knowing they likely neither cared for his help or wanted it. Not moments after, news arrived that Valkur's Roar was under attack by a very large pirate fleet. Gareth in his usual enthusiastic but clearly annoyed they dared to do a two prong attack said; lets go get the bastards! and took off with his daughter for Valkur's roar. Lord Phelzaron turns away thinking...I done my good deed for the day....he begins to walk away to go about his business. He pauses. Thinks of his duty to Cormyr and fights his long time nature since his retirement from the War wizards not to get involved unless the Crown orders him to. He looks up to the sky a moment and offers a sort of prayer to the Gods; Don't anyone take this the wrong way for good or bad in what I am about to do and as an aside Cormyr, don't think I am softening in my ways....but I got a code after all...I have no desire to see Redmist fall a third damn time. He turns and looks in the direction of the Roar...

Lord Phelzaron arrives in Valkur's Roar and looks around....What are you doing here...just walk out the damn gates he says to himself as he keeps walking towards the battle.

The pirate numbers were a problem, but not an insurmountable one. But the pirates were wearing down the defenses when more than twenty sails appeared on the horizon. That meant over two thousand more pirates. It was about to get messy...

In a lull between battle pulses, when each side stood to catch its breath, Phelzaron looked out to sea.

It was immense. Not the wave; that had not yet had time to form. The pulse of magic that caused the wave: it was enormous. There was little doubt that the hand of a god had stirred. Hells archduke...Phelzaron says as a curse to himself while looking out...

It was conjuration magic. Water elementals could be seen cavorting; their insane joy in the potential destruction was unnerving. Phelzaron was about to shout a retreat when the pirates, their backs to the onrushing wave, attacked again.

As the wave hit the Corsair ships it rolled them over, splintering masts and driving hulls into the muddy bottom of the river delta. The wave rolled on to strike the quays, smashing the ships there to splinters against the stone.

Phelzaron, the harbor defenders, and the pirates, were lifted up on or crushed beneath the wave, the last he heard was Gareth's desperate shouting his daughter, who chose a life of adventure had gone missing. Struggling against his heavy robes, the Necromancer fought for breath. The churning wave grew taller as it raced up the river channel.

By the time he had his first gulps of air the wave had passed the west gates, rolling upriver at a ferocious pace, constrained by the river bluffs.

Phelzaron noticed others on the wave with him. He couldn't help them. He couldn't even help himself. He was a captive of the wave forged by a god. He didn't like being helpless. He began to experiment.

Holding his body certain ways allowed him to control his endless fall down the wave's face. Another position allowed him to ride up toward its foaming crest. That was a mistake: there was debris in that, enough to churn a hapless pirate to pink foam before he was lost to sight. Phelzaron was certainly no stranger to violence or the horrors of war and natural disasters but still...right now he was but a stone's toss away from also becoming a pink foam mess despite his powers.

Side to side movement was easier, once he figured out how, but being slammed into the rocky bluff seemed like a poor choice. Not that that fellow appeared to have a choice. His scream was short and virtually silent compared to the roar of the wave as Phelzaron rode past.

One by one his companions fell away. Smashed into trees, rocks, scoured against mud banks: there seemed to be no pleasant way to get off the wave. It roared past the familiar hills he had walked among for so long. He had never seen them from this angle.

Ahead he saw disaster. The river shot out of the rocky chasm south of Greatgaunt and turned east. Phelzaron was headed west, right into the bluff wall of the gorge! Balls....he thought to himself in a this is not my day moment.

Now would be a good time to get off. He figured the south bank would be the safer side, and used his palms to steer that way. Too slowly. Or the wave was too fast.

As it slammed into the cliff face, the wave rose higher, and Phelzaron slid north at an amazing speed. Right back into the center of the river channel, headed north between the twisting stone walls of the canyon.

By now the wave had diminished, but it had not lost speed. Through a gap in the rocks he saw The Bridge Of Fallen men. Appropriate....he thought to himself as he approached. If he was at just the right height when he passed he might make it!

With concentration developed to a key pitch, he gauged his progress. Up, up. Here came the bridge...

At the apex of the wave, he began to slide down its back face and his waterlogged and weary body slammed into the deck of the bridge. The roaring wave rolled on without him. Built to withstand spring floods, the bridge stood, as solid as ever, but Phelzaron lay exhausted for a time the slam against the bridge and his complete exhaustion knocking him out cold.

Then as he awoke, with the pragmatism which had always guided him, he stood up on shaky legs where he promptly hurled a seawater and freshwater mix onto the bridge. He looked in the direction of the Thayan enclave...and so I have come full circle....ya sure you don't want to carry me just a little further wave!?! A little further and you could have left me in a Thayan cell to stand trial for being a renegade! He yells at the water.

Seeing a little puddle on the bridge and wishing to regain some sort of control he stumbles over to it and tries to kick the puddle in his own little form of overwhelming destruction on the much smaller puddle. His muscles tired and weak he manages a devastating blow as the water is kicked off the bridge and little remains. With what little remains he gives it a wild eyed look and says HUH!?! You SEE what you get!?! You see what you get when you mess with an ARCH NECROMANCER!?! For good measure he bends down near the remaining puddle and shakes his fist mightily the extremely diminished puddle.

Regaining his composure, he stands tall and noble once again now that the water understands it's place and attempts to straighten his eccentric and expensive robes still a bit delirious. With his robes new decorations of seawater, seaweed, and muck he is too exhausted and sick from swallowing so much sea water to notice to cast a simple cantrip to clean himself up. Attempting to regain his dignity he made his weary way to Greatgaunt. After a few more hurling sessions he finally gets to the point he realizes he need not suffer the stench of the sea any longer, casting a drying cantrip and then a clean cantrip, he walks away...barely...with another story under his belt.

[Alizarin Spion - Sleeper Agent]

After tireless efforts of sweeping and searching, Eishur finally finds a water-damaged book on one of the pirates, priest or mage he did not know. Although the book is damaged and likely beyond repair Eishur gently wraps the book with dry cloth before he puts it into his backpack. After his search had finally yielded a result he could not help but to speculate the content of the book, could it be of arcane or divine nature? Or could it simply be just a piece of literature, like a cookbook or something along those lines. Eitherway it would take a long time before those pages to dry out completely and Eishur could not help but to think of methods to quicken the process but rice did come to mind.


After spending his whole day sweeping Eishur never returned the following day, had he done enough or was he simply content with his findings? One could only speculate at this point.