West Marches - Gilded Cage

West Marches - Gilded Cage

There is a sharp rap on the door outside what used to be Quiz's closed Arcane Laboratory. Most of the contents long since transported down to the Forks. Sedriks waits outside, idly toying with a reed flute.

West Marches - The Search for Ioleth

West Marches - The Search for Ioleth

The three riders sat at a darkened table in a nearby tavern hardly touching their now warm ales; Azais monitoring the stable hand and his master down yet another round of whiskey.
Sedriks has a notebook out, ostensibly working on new music pieces, but Quiz and Azais could see the bard was scrawling notations between the notes, keeping track of the exact wording the travelers used and charting in rest beats for how long a distance they had traveled.

West Marches - Beneath the Surface, Quiz's Counterpoint

West Marches - Beneath the Surface, Quiz's Counterpoint

There was no indication of time in the Estate House of Moray, but somehow, the Dwarves all seemed to have some internal clock to their rhythms. Celebratory drinking and song eventually gave way to sombre storytelling and the dull clink of passing coin and card. Over time, the dwarves came to a drunken state of rest, emaciated from their predicament as they were, their constitutions yielded to strong drink. Around him, Sedriks idly plucked at the Viola like a guitar, watching and nodding as handfuls of small brass and silver coins were deposited on the table before him.

West Marches - Gilham Magic

West Marches - Gilham Magic

There is a sub-basement room in Gilham Manor, the Whiskey Riders' new outpost in Sou'Brook, that most of the Riders don't know about yet. When they were clearing out the years of junk and making it livable, Quiz found the servants door to the underground cellar and decided to not mention it to the group.

Quiz now stands in the room, manipulating a ball of glowing light in his tiny hands. It fills the space with orange-red shadows and beams. He tosses the ball to the figure near him. "Catch it."

Sedriks' reflexes are instant and fingers snap upwards, but the ball shifts harmlessly through, ghostlike and insubstantial.

Azais playfully laughs from the stairwell. Quiz shakes his head, snaps his fingers, and the ball of light flies back to his palm. "It's not so much grabbing it as it is... you need to grab the space around it."

Sedriks focuses, thinking and hooking his thumbs into his armor, steadying his breathing.
"Hold it without holding it," Quiz continues. "Your hand isn't carrying weight; it's carrying a map for the light." He throws the ball again.

West Marches - Whiskey and Plots

West Marches - Whiskey and Plots

Sedriks walks up, a young boar slung over his shoulders still twitching. Azais is sitting on a cleared stump, the wood part of the palisade somewhere already.

"Hey, if ye kill this, will yer dagger work?" Azais is still silent, staring at the sooty embers dusting the fresh grass. He sits down opposite and flicks shards of glass out of her hair. “That were a right good explosion.”

Finally she finds her voice. “It was certainly a shock...”

“Where’d Quiz make his way off ta?”