Swords for Adventure

Mimic Room

28th Alturiak (February) , The Year of Star Wanderers (1490 DR) DR (Dale Reckoning)

Mimic.jpg

Feanar finished wrapping the bandage on Smee’s arm and he glimpsed Algares still rubbing his neck. Feanar walked to the spot where he had laid out his bedroll in the treasure room. The team had decided after the confrontation as this room appeared to be an extra dimensional space protected from the rest of the cave that they would again attempt to take rest and prepare to push through the caverns and attempt to locate Adrean or learn of his fate, as well as, locate and confront the Hag’s coven with an eye to ending the corruption of the land.

Feanar arranged his bedding and then removed his helm, it felt like part of his skull at times he wore it so often. The defeat of the cursed chest and blade left him quite certain they were as safe as they would likely be anywhere. Feanar jotted a few notes in his journal in regards to the monstrosities they had just recently faced. The frantic pace they had been required to maintain had prevented him from any detailed measurements, but he still had quite a number of observations in regards to behavior and battle details to enter.

While he scribed in his journal he could see Algares staring at him, Feanar spoke without looking up from his journal. “Yes?’ he asked flatly of Algares. Algares replied staring, still looking somewhat in shock. “It was completely severed?” he asked still rubbing his neck. “Yes.” Feanar answered plainly. “You stuck it back on and now I’m alive?” He asked still staring at Feanar. Feanar answered again very dead pan without glancing up from his journal. “The specifics of the incantations and the manner in which the power is channeled is somewhat technical, but in simple terms, yes, I stuck it back on and now you’re alive.” Algares stared still and spoke without changing his expression. “Thanks” he said before moving off to his bedroll. “Not at all.” Feanar responded.

Erza jumped and spun around the room swinging his enchanted blade. He was still giddy from the fight. Feanar had lie back to attempt some rest. Erza spoke. “I felled a cursed blade in midair, didya see Feanar?” he asked while flipping and spinning about. “I did, you should rest.” Feanar answered with his eyes closed. “I knocked it right from the air, after it had felled Algares and Thalmar!” He spoke to the air very pleased with himself. “Indeed you did, you should rest.” Feanar answered without moving. “Ah, you’re probably right.” Erza answered and flopped onto his bedroll.

Smee spoke to Erza. “So it be that easy, he say jump and ye say how high?” he asked laughing. Erza sat up and looked at the portly companion they had freed. “He stuck Algares’ head back on and brought him back to life, he might know a couple things about rest and being ready.” Then he stuck his tongue out at Smee before burying himself in his blanket. Smee’s face warped into a quizzical guise as Feanar sighed and drifted off to sleep.

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