Hi All,
Hopefully we'll soon be meeting up for the second instalment of 'Catch that Pigeon!'.
Could you all do me a favour and let me know the following:
1) Arrows/Bolts/Stones: How many do each of you have left?
2) Magic: Who's got what? (Including Potions and Scrolls)
3) Spells: Unless told otherwise, what spells do you remember.
4) Can I have Wer's character sheet?
Every thing's ready my end.
You've got some knowledge of what's coming so you should be a little better prepared this time.
If possible can we start a bit earlier?
Say 7pm?
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The dead cleric speaks
Eolar chants the words of the scroll over the remains of the dead cleric.
After a few moments the pile of ruined flesh shudders and rolls back, it's dead eyes staring upwards at the half elf standing over it.
"What do you want, tool of St. Cuthbert?"
Eolar commands in disgust: "Tell us of your group, fiend."
It's voice is broken and rasping.
"Why not? I care not what happens to them. My name was Chaplin, but I am dead now.
Bailey and I have adventured together many times. I wouldn't have called us friends but we had an 'understanding'. He'd do the fighting and I'd do the plotting. Mortimer and Reeves joined us later. They were just a couple of thieves but they worked well together and soon proved their value to us when stealth was required. The Raven haired, half-breed Ranger, Ancona and Izzard the spineless Gnome Magician were hired to help us track down the gambler. They might have become useful to me over time had I lived.
The cowards ran after the Owl bear killed me. I doubt they'd have given up, though. They probably just skirted the valley. They could afford to take their time, as Ancona shot the gambler with a poisoned arrow. He'll probably be dead like me within a few days."
Eolar is about to ask another question when the eerie light fades from the dead clerics eyes.
At least you know who you're are up against now!
After a few moments the pile of ruined flesh shudders and rolls back, it's dead eyes staring upwards at the half elf standing over it.
"What do you want, tool of St. Cuthbert?"
Eolar commands in disgust: "Tell us of your group, fiend."
It's voice is broken and rasping.
"Why not? I care not what happens to them. My name was Chaplin, but I am dead now.
Bailey and I have adventured together many times. I wouldn't have called us friends but we had an 'understanding'. He'd do the fighting and I'd do the plotting. Mortimer and Reeves joined us later. They were just a couple of thieves but they worked well together and soon proved their value to us when stealth was required. The Raven haired, half-breed Ranger, Ancona and Izzard the spineless Gnome Magician were hired to help us track down the gambler. They might have become useful to me over time had I lived.
The cowards ran after the Owl bear killed me. I doubt they'd have given up, though. They probably just skirted the valley. They could afford to take their time, as Ancona shot the gambler with a poisoned arrow. He'll probably be dead like me within a few days."
Eolar is about to ask another question when the eerie light fades from the dead clerics eyes.
At least you know who you're are up against now!
Monday, October 15, 2007
The Goblin War Party
A grimy group of Goblins step carefully into the foul smelling camp. Anger flares in the lead Goblin’s eyes. They were just meant to be reinforcements, but someone has come into the camp and slaughtered the remaining three warriors.
He looks at the dead Worg and spits. Originally there had been three of them. Fierce but loyal the ‘Python’ clan. Their loss is difficult to accept.
He sniffs the air; “Humansss!”
His eyes are pulled by the sight of the fenced off tree. The corpses seem undisturbed and the crop of mushrooms left unmolested. “Goodly, we shalls be needing them soons.”
A barked command causes a few of his underlings to gather up the skins and furs left outside in the wet. A few will stay to guard the camp, but the others will make the interlopers pay. “Gets selves readly, we leaves at mornin' light!”
He looks at the dead Worg and spits. Originally there had been three of them. Fierce but loyal the ‘Python’ clan. Their loss is difficult to accept.
He sniffs the air; “Humansss!”
His eyes are pulled by the sight of the fenced off tree. The corpses seem undisturbed and the crop of mushrooms left unmolested. “Goodly, we shalls be needing them soons.”
A barked command causes a few of his underlings to gather up the skins and furs left outside in the wet. A few will stay to guard the camp, but the others will make the interlopers pay. “Gets selves readly, we leaves at mornin' light!”
A Time to Reflect
The rag-tag group of adventurers gather themselves together in the cavernous den of the dead Owl bear. Wer as usual takes herself away from the group and keeps watch while astride her loyal mount.
The equipment in the clerics backpack was mostly destroyed. Only the very hard or very soft goods survived the assault. An incomplete set of ‘Half-plate’ armour, an ornate silver holy symbol of ‘Hexor’, a Morningstar of Masterworks quality, a couple of food rations and a blanket and bedroll. Those and a couple of well protected potions. Telfis also discovered a scroll case few feet away containing three spells: Glyph of Warding, Meld into Stone and Speak to the Dead. The blanket and bedroll is grabbed greedily by Thesis.
The stench inside the cave is truly awful but despite the dark, they manage to find the missing parts of the evil cleric.
Still tethered to the dismembered wrist is a small bag of gems and on a pallid finger, a ring of some value.
More importantly though is the rest of the armour. Though scuffed and torn apart at the straps, it could be fairly easily repaired.
The cleric was a large man. The armour might fit Thesis.
As he looks however, he finds another scroll hidden in the wrist section of the armour. Eolar steps forward to look. Two more Devine spells are displayed: Raise the Dead and Neutralise Poison.
Somehow this makes Eolar more afraid than before. Who exactly are the group chasing the thief?
Outside they go back to the area where the Cleric was killed. The tracks ‘seem’ to double back. The other party appear to have fled from the Owl bear and either headed back to Seawell or gone the long way around the valley. A good chance to catch up to them or possibly overtake?
Bodush checks their supplies. Including the found rations and Eolar and Wer gathering food for themselves, they are down to one day’s supplies plus Wer’s dubious mushrooms. A stretch to two days if they’re prudent.
Should they go on? They were lucky that Eolar and Thesis survived the last encounter.
The equipment in the clerics backpack was mostly destroyed. Only the very hard or very soft goods survived the assault. An incomplete set of ‘Half-plate’ armour, an ornate silver holy symbol of ‘Hexor’, a Morningstar of Masterworks quality, a couple of food rations and a blanket and bedroll. Those and a couple of well protected potions. Telfis also discovered a scroll case few feet away containing three spells: Glyph of Warding, Meld into Stone and Speak to the Dead. The blanket and bedroll is grabbed greedily by Thesis.
The stench inside the cave is truly awful but despite the dark, they manage to find the missing parts of the evil cleric.
Still tethered to the dismembered wrist is a small bag of gems and on a pallid finger, a ring of some value.
More importantly though is the rest of the armour. Though scuffed and torn apart at the straps, it could be fairly easily repaired.
The cleric was a large man. The armour might fit Thesis.
As he looks however, he finds another scroll hidden in the wrist section of the armour. Eolar steps forward to look. Two more Devine spells are displayed: Raise the Dead and Neutralise Poison.
Somehow this makes Eolar more afraid than before. Who exactly are the group chasing the thief?
Outside they go back to the area where the Cleric was killed. The tracks ‘seem’ to double back. The other party appear to have fled from the Owl bear and either headed back to Seawell or gone the long way around the valley. A good chance to catch up to them or possibly overtake?
Bodush checks their supplies. Including the found rations and Eolar and Wer gathering food for themselves, they are down to one day’s supplies plus Wer’s dubious mushrooms. A stretch to two days if they’re prudent.
Should they go on? They were lucky that Eolar and Thesis survived the last encounter.
New Kid on the Block
Wrapped tightly in the protective mantle of darkness Telfis stands motionlessly crouched behind the chimney of a house near the still busy waterfront of Seawell. Since the last twilight of dawn he has been carefully watching the proceedings below. He has never been to Seawell before and he is not overly happy with what he sees. Until a moment ago he had been excited by the apparent plethora of opportunities. All this traveling folk and the gullible young adventurers only waiting for man of his talents and maybe part with some of their funds in the exchange. However, observing yet another relatively ugly mugging down a dark alley to his left, the second one today, Tel's mood has turned more sombre. Silren help, he thinks, for every ingenuous and hopeful would-be adventurer around, there are already two unscrupulous and desperate have-been adventurers lurking around the corner, sharpening their daggers. No good business if a man has to fear for his own safety at his workplace.
Brooding in the dark, Tel has to admit that the competition in this city is somewhat on the stiff side. With the obvious surplus of hardened, ruthless criminals he doubts that this city is a good place to start a career for a young man with quick fingers and nothing else to do. And of course, there is also the excessive violence he has observed. Nothing wrong with violence as such, Tel muses, as long as it happens to other people. Tel himself is not the violent type. Of course he carries a dagger and he might have used it to threaten at one point or another, but he prefers the silent and stealthy way of doing business. After all, he thinks, every oafish idiot can hit someone over the head with a stick. No elegance in that, no skill, and sure enough no honour neither.
Early the next day Telfis decides that this is not a place to stay. He has better plans for his life than having his throat cut in a smelly side alley over a couple of worthless coins. Instead, he resolves, he will try his luck in the adventuring business. Not a bad life after all, he reflects, traveling the world, finding hidden treasures, and who knows, fate may even throw in a pretty princess in need of rescue once in a while. Must find a party of some sort though, Telfis thinks, that's how it works. No good adventuring alone. Telfis is quite excited by the prospect. Campfires, excitement, new places, and, of course, with a group of hardened adventurers he could stop worrying about those thugs following him.
Tel wanders around the market. Already there is quite a crowd gathering at the big space where the stall keepers shout and haggle and praise their various goods. Telfis scans the area for any likely candidates. He doesn't really know what he is looking for when his eyes fall on some sort of priestly looking fellow. He has seen this man before. Someone told him that he was part of a group of adventurers who accomplished some mildly spectacular feat or another recently. Probably not heroes but decent, hard working, well, whatever you called that. This is as good a starting point as any other, thinks Tel, getting closer to the stall were the priest stands looking somewhat piqued at a dwarven marketeer.
"So what is it, then? You surely must know what you are selling, good man?", the priest says as Telfis arrives within hearing distance.
"It is a book of ancient secrets, sire, very, uh, spiritual too.", says the dwarf in slightly broken common. They are both looking at a rather unremarkable brown book with a faint golden lining. The dwarf looks solemn, the priest intrigued but unconvinced. Tel risks a glance at the thing. "The week long menu; cookery for wedding feasts revisited", Tel reads aloud and adds, in fluent Dwarfen, directed at the shopkeeper: "That's a rather broad definition of ancient secrets and spirituality you got there mister." Both men turn to him, the dwarf looking slightly angry.
"Interesting. And who might you be, boy?", the priest is the first to speak. "Telfis, guv'nor, at your service. It appears master dwarf here is having a little fun at your expense.", Tel says, grinning broadly and feeling rather clever. The priest looks reflective for a moment. "A cookbook you say.", he says noncommittal. Then, managing to look threatening and friendly at the same time, adds: "And how would you know that? Are you telling me you can read this?". "Aye, it's the brother, sir. Taught me Gnome. And Dwarven. I speak Halfling too.", Tel says, radiating pride. "How curious. What is your profession?", the priest asks, seemingly having forgotten the dwarf merchant for a minute. "I want to be an adventurer, sir!". "So you have no profession.", the priest says rather disapprovingly. Telfis, feeling the moment slip away, hazards: "I can be very helpful, sir, if you would take me on your next adventure. I have sharp eyes, nimble fingers and I can read and write!", realizing that this might not be overly impressive qualifications for adventuring, he adds, "I can shoot a crossbow too." The priest is obviously not too impressed. And just as Tel is sure he will turn him down, the priest expression turns strangely unreadable for Telfis. "Alright, boy. Come to the inn down the street at eight in the evening. If my companions agree you shall have a chance to prove yourself useful."
Two days later Telfis is already on the road again. The meeting with the rest of the group had turned out not to be much of a problem. There was a tiny halfling with a dog, a somewhat bedraggled looking fellow who was apparently some sort of sorcerer, and a huge warrior with tattoos all over his body. Neither of them had any real objections that Tel joins the group, neither of them seemed very interested either. However, Tel thinks happily as he walks along the road out of the city, that may change, at least there was something to do now.
Brooding in the dark, Tel has to admit that the competition in this city is somewhat on the stiff side. With the obvious surplus of hardened, ruthless criminals he doubts that this city is a good place to start a career for a young man with quick fingers and nothing else to do. And of course, there is also the excessive violence he has observed. Nothing wrong with violence as such, Tel muses, as long as it happens to other people. Tel himself is not the violent type. Of course he carries a dagger and he might have used it to threaten at one point or another, but he prefers the silent and stealthy way of doing business. After all, he thinks, every oafish idiot can hit someone over the head with a stick. No elegance in that, no skill, and sure enough no honour neither.
Early the next day Telfis decides that this is not a place to stay. He has better plans for his life than having his throat cut in a smelly side alley over a couple of worthless coins. Instead, he resolves, he will try his luck in the adventuring business. Not a bad life after all, he reflects, traveling the world, finding hidden treasures, and who knows, fate may even throw in a pretty princess in need of rescue once in a while. Must find a party of some sort though, Telfis thinks, that's how it works. No good adventuring alone. Telfis is quite excited by the prospect. Campfires, excitement, new places, and, of course, with a group of hardened adventurers he could stop worrying about those thugs following him.
Tel wanders around the market. Already there is quite a crowd gathering at the big space where the stall keepers shout and haggle and praise their various goods. Telfis scans the area for any likely candidates. He doesn't really know what he is looking for when his eyes fall on some sort of priestly looking fellow. He has seen this man before. Someone told him that he was part of a group of adventurers who accomplished some mildly spectacular feat or another recently. Probably not heroes but decent, hard working, well, whatever you called that. This is as good a starting point as any other, thinks Tel, getting closer to the stall were the priest stands looking somewhat piqued at a dwarven marketeer.
"So what is it, then? You surely must know what you are selling, good man?", the priest says as Telfis arrives within hearing distance.
"It is a book of ancient secrets, sire, very, uh, spiritual too.", says the dwarf in slightly broken common. They are both looking at a rather unremarkable brown book with a faint golden lining. The dwarf looks solemn, the priest intrigued but unconvinced. Tel risks a glance at the thing. "The week long menu; cookery for wedding feasts revisited", Tel reads aloud and adds, in fluent Dwarfen, directed at the shopkeeper: "That's a rather broad definition of ancient secrets and spirituality you got there mister." Both men turn to him, the dwarf looking slightly angry.
"Interesting. And who might you be, boy?", the priest is the first to speak. "Telfis, guv'nor, at your service. It appears master dwarf here is having a little fun at your expense.", Tel says, grinning broadly and feeling rather clever. The priest looks reflective for a moment. "A cookbook you say.", he says noncommittal. Then, managing to look threatening and friendly at the same time, adds: "And how would you know that? Are you telling me you can read this?". "Aye, it's the brother, sir. Taught me Gnome. And Dwarven. I speak Halfling too.", Tel says, radiating pride. "How curious. What is your profession?", the priest asks, seemingly having forgotten the dwarf merchant for a minute. "I want to be an adventurer, sir!". "So you have no profession.", the priest says rather disapprovingly. Telfis, feeling the moment slip away, hazards: "I can be very helpful, sir, if you would take me on your next adventure. I have sharp eyes, nimble fingers and I can read and write!", realizing that this might not be overly impressive qualifications for adventuring, he adds, "I can shoot a crossbow too." The priest is obviously not too impressed. And just as Tel is sure he will turn him down, the priest expression turns strangely unreadable for Telfis. "Alright, boy. Come to the inn down the street at eight in the evening. If my companions agree you shall have a chance to prove yourself useful."
Two days later Telfis is already on the road again. The meeting with the rest of the group had turned out not to be much of a problem. There was a tiny halfling with a dog, a somewhat bedraggled looking fellow who was apparently some sort of sorcerer, and a huge warrior with tattoos all over his body. Neither of them had any real objections that Tel joins the group, neither of them seemed very interested either. However, Tel thinks happily as he walks along the road out of the city, that may change, at least there was something to do now.
Friday, October 12, 2007
A Shining Light and a Welcome End
Thesis sees his father, uncle and brothers beckoning him from the Warriors Eternal Castle. It is a truly beautiful place of exquisite legend. But, he is cruely dragged back to firm earth and knows now that his road to eternity in legend still has many miles to travel.Next time, he will attack first and talk later.
Secret Diary of Bodush - Translated from the original Infernal text
Day 1: Left Seawell. Mendez is doing something and is not coming. Luckily we have two replacements, a shifty looking kid from the next town over and what is hopefully a brave and strong warrior who will stand between me and any nasties we meet on the way. Walked most of the day. Halfling stayed out of the way.
Day 2: Slept well. Gajarpan ate a beetle in the morning and spent the rest of the day sleeping and digesting food. Was bored without him. Walked some more.
Day 3: Slept well. Some idiot decided on running for most of the day. I hate running, reminds me of my slave days. Orcs get worgs to ride on, slaves run. Met some pleasant goblins and a worg. Goblins very friendly, and a delight to bargain with, I like goblins. Thesis complicated matters. Big fight. I fulfilled a childhood dream and killed a worg and ate it. Got hurt. Note to self: Never, ever let Thesis talk to anyone again.
Day 4: Would have slept well, if it wasn't for the fact that every muscle in my body ached and that I pulled open the bandages on the wound that ferocious goblin warrior gave me. Note to self: This is all Thesis' fault, never bring him to a parley again. Ran into a river. Crossed river. Swore a lot. Got mule across river. What in the name of Wee Jas is this mule doing here? All it seems to do is carry a stupid shield and some smelly animal hides. Did a brief overview of my financial situation. I have enough to live comfortably in Seawell for 6 months, what am I doing here?
Day 5: Slept well. Found a valley. Annoying halfling found pieces of warrior, then ran away. Attacked by very, very, very big owlbear. Annoying halfling turned suicidal, must be some halfling deathcult they keep hidden from us 'big people'. Note to self: Study halfling theology to see if they have a Valhalla. Killed owlbear. Sanctimonious cleric badly hurt. Perhaps if he would carry his own thrice-damned shield, these things wouldn't happen to him. Note to self: Poison the mule at the earliest opportunity. Found some worthless magical baubles. Hopefully I will get to sleep soon.
Day 2: Slept well. Gajarpan ate a beetle in the morning and spent the rest of the day sleeping and digesting food. Was bored without him. Walked some more.
Day 3: Slept well. Some idiot decided on running for most of the day. I hate running, reminds me of my slave days. Orcs get worgs to ride on, slaves run. Met some pleasant goblins and a worg. Goblins very friendly, and a delight to bargain with, I like goblins. Thesis complicated matters. Big fight. I fulfilled a childhood dream and killed a worg and ate it. Got hurt. Note to self: Never, ever let Thesis talk to anyone again.
Day 4: Would have slept well, if it wasn't for the fact that every muscle in my body ached and that I pulled open the bandages on the wound that ferocious goblin warrior gave me. Note to self: This is all Thesis' fault, never bring him to a parley again. Ran into a river. Crossed river. Swore a lot. Got mule across river. What in the name of Wee Jas is this mule doing here? All it seems to do is carry a stupid shield and some smelly animal hides. Did a brief overview of my financial situation. I have enough to live comfortably in Seawell for 6 months, what am I doing here?
Day 5: Slept well. Found a valley. Annoying halfling found pieces of warrior, then ran away. Attacked by very, very, very big owlbear. Annoying halfling turned suicidal, must be some halfling deathcult they keep hidden from us 'big people'. Note to self: Study halfling theology to see if they have a Valhalla. Killed owlbear. Sanctimonious cleric badly hurt. Perhaps if he would carry his own thrice-damned shield, these things wouldn't happen to him. Note to self: Poison the mule at the earliest opportunity. Found some worthless magical baubles. Hopefully I will get to sleep soon.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Church Announcement
Brethren and Sistren!
The church of St.Cuthbert in Seawell is happy to announce that a new member joined the chapter of our beloved church. Brother Eolar from Nan-Elmroth was sent to us by St. Cuthbert to help spreading HIS word. Because of his experience and on his own wish, brother Eolar is going to take the position of a traveling cleric. He will make visits to outlying settlements and will act as a messenger between the council and our outposts in the wilderness. In this role, he is a direct subordinate to our Highness, the Bishop of Seawell.
As from now, Brother Eolar is acting as a official member of the chapter with all ecclesiastical privileges and duties. He has full authority to take confessions, administer justice and act as a spokesman of the church of St. Cuthbert.
May St.Cuthbert give him strength!
The Chapter of St.Cuthbert
The church of St.Cuthbert in Seawell is happy to announce that a new member joined the chapter of our beloved church. Brother Eolar from Nan-Elmroth was sent to us by St. Cuthbert to help spreading HIS word. Because of his experience and on his own wish, brother Eolar is going to take the position of a traveling cleric. He will make visits to outlying settlements and will act as a messenger between the council and our outposts in the wilderness. In this role, he is a direct subordinate to our Highness, the Bishop of Seawell.
As from now, Brother Eolar is acting as a official member of the chapter with all ecclesiastical privileges and duties. He has full authority to take confessions, administer justice and act as a spokesman of the church of St. Cuthbert.
May St.Cuthbert give him strength!
The Chapter of St.Cuthbert
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
A warning!
I just wanted to warn you that I'm not as nice as Assif.
Assif feels bad when characters die.
I don't.
Whatever you'll face tomorrow will probably try to kill you.
Play smart and don't assume everyone you'll meet will be weaker than you.
On the positive though, everyone's still low level so starting again won't be that much of an ordeal.
Good luck,
Kirk.
Assif feels bad when characters die.
I don't.
Whatever you'll face tomorrow will probably try to kill you.
Play smart and don't assume everyone you'll meet will be weaker than you.
On the positive though, everyone's still low level so starting again won't be that much of an ordeal.
Good luck,
Kirk.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Escape!
Tel is running along the rooftops of the city silent as a cat, smiling to himself with the overconfidence that is the prerogative of youth. He cannot not help it. Not after tonight's little coup had worked out better than he had even dreamed. And it had been so easy. In his pouch, pressing against his waist, are a golden necklace and a little bag full of shiny coins. "Confident, lazy, cocky, dead", he could hear his brother tell him, like a mantra. He is trying to calm himself, concentrate on his escape. But it is difficult to suppress the exhilaration and even more difficult to imagine that one of those slow-witted thugs is still on his trail. He had been stealthy and swift as a night breeze. Most likely they hadn't even noticed yet that Lady Amanda's prized necklace is missing. As for the coins, he was sure they were mere peanuts for their previous owner who was Lady Amanda's unknown suitor. He definitely looked rich, the bastard, and a bit scary. Though certainly not as scary as his two monstrous bodyguards. Freaking half orcs, if Tel is any judge of these things. Better not be caught, better keep moving, Tel thinks, as he looks down a dark alley and carefully edges his way down a drainpipe. Not far now to the security of his hiding place, not far at all. No one to be seen, nothing to be heard, better trade some stealth for swiftness, Telfis thinks, and starts to jog down the dark alley leading to his safe place.
"Where are you going so fast, young man?", grunts a disembodied voice from Tel's left followed, before he can even react, by a massive hairy paw grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet. Taken completely by surprise, Telfis screams, reflexively: "I didn't do nothing guvnor!". Panic rising, heart already racing, Tel ineffectually wriggles to get free, mind racing to think of a way to escape.
"Now what do we have here?", grumbles the voice, no longer disembodied, but rather unpleasantly embodied in the ugly mass of one of the bodyguard thugs. He rips the pouch from Telfis' belt and weights it in his hand for a moment. No way to bluff your way out of this, Tel knows, no way to play innocent. In a second he will see the necklace and Silren knows what that brute will do to him.
Telfis goes limp, apparently resigned to his fate, as his captor shifts his grip to open the pouch and reveal its telltale contents. Tel slowly and carefully reaches to his side where he hides his small dagger. It is a desperate move, even under different circumstances he probably couldn't even seriously harm this monstrosity. The thug lets out a satisfied grunt, the limp and tiny figure in his grip momentarily forgotten. Tel seizes his moment. A flash of blade, immediately followed by a black streak of blood across the eye and brow of his captor. Not a good hit but freedom. Without waiting for the surprised cry of outrage Tel turns tail and runs. Heart still racing as he zig-zags through the city frantically trying to come up with a plan. He knows he cannot stay. He knows the city is no longer safe for him. Dejectedly he thinks about the night's events. He has lost his loot and his home.
Half an hour later, Telfis finds himself trotting along the road to the neighboring city of Seawell. Self doubt and despondence not among his most predominant traits, Telfis is already whistling a merry tune. He is eager to reach Seawell and already imagining the adventures and riches that await him there.
"Where are you going so fast, young man?", grunts a disembodied voice from Tel's left followed, before he can even react, by a massive hairy paw grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet. Taken completely by surprise, Telfis screams, reflexively: "I didn't do nothing guvnor!". Panic rising, heart already racing, Tel ineffectually wriggles to get free, mind racing to think of a way to escape.
"Now what do we have here?", grumbles the voice, no longer disembodied, but rather unpleasantly embodied in the ugly mass of one of the bodyguard thugs. He rips the pouch from Telfis' belt and weights it in his hand for a moment. No way to bluff your way out of this, Tel knows, no way to play innocent. In a second he will see the necklace and Silren knows what that brute will do to him.
Telfis goes limp, apparently resigned to his fate, as his captor shifts his grip to open the pouch and reveal its telltale contents. Tel slowly and carefully reaches to his side where he hides his small dagger. It is a desperate move, even under different circumstances he probably couldn't even seriously harm this monstrosity. The thug lets out a satisfied grunt, the limp and tiny figure in his grip momentarily forgotten. Tel seizes his moment. A flash of blade, immediately followed by a black streak of blood across the eye and brow of his captor. Not a good hit but freedom. Without waiting for the surprised cry of outrage Tel turns tail and runs. Heart still racing as he zig-zags through the city frantically trying to come up with a plan. He knows he cannot stay. He knows the city is no longer safe for him. Dejectedly he thinks about the night's events. He has lost his loot and his home.
Half an hour later, Telfis finds himself trotting along the road to the neighboring city of Seawell. Self doubt and despondence not among his most predominant traits, Telfis is already whistling a merry tune. He is eager to reach Seawell and already imagining the adventures and riches that await him there.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
A new member. A new mission.
Bodush, Wer, and Eolar spend a pleasant week in Seawell. They enjoy the free lodgings and food. Bodush especially savouring the soft clean bed.
Mendez leaves the others to go carousing and is often gone for days without being seen.
The others exploit their time by spending some of their gold on new equipment and it’s there they encounter a new face in Seawell. People come and go all the time in this border town, but this oddly garbed Human stands out from the others. Though not particularly tall, the breadth of shoulders is almost freakish. Add to that the assortment of tattoos and piercings, you’d think him a young barbarian. His bearing and armour though mark him out as more refined but just as scary.
You all spot a possible job pined to the shop notice board simultaneously:
1000 GP REWARD FOR THIEF CAPTURED OR KILLED!
SEEK OUT SKINNER. OWNER OF THE GAMBLING BAR: THE MULES HAND.
The Warrior tears off the notice and strides from the shop.
The three friends glance at each other and hurry after him.
They get to a relatively unstained looking bar.
The Warrior turns to them and glares. Eolar is a fraction taller but only half the weight. They all step back a little.
Before anything can be said however, a portly man wanders out through the front door. He’s backed by two large and aggressive looking thugs.
“Are you here for the job?”
The group nod in unison.
“I’ve already hired another group. Still, they’ve been gone for over four days now. They’re probably dead.”
The man stares at them for a moment.
“If you want it, feel free to take it. The offer stands to whomever returns with my ring and proof of the oily thief’s death.”
He pauses for breath and pulls a handkerchief from his sleeve.
“Five days ago, an adventurer wagered heavily against me in a game of Poker. He bet so large, the only way I could equal the bet was by offering my magic ring. Impossibly he beat me. He took his winnings and left. It was only then that I discovered he had cheated.
My only son went after him. There was a confrontation and my boy was killed.”
Skinner dabs his eyes before continuing.
“He fled into the forest. I sent some of my men after him, but it was too late; he’d escaped. I hired a group of adventures the next day but they’ve failed to return. Catch him and bring back my ring and I will give you the thousand gold pieces.”
Wer considers the problem for a moment. There’s only one real path through the woods and it eventually leads to an Elven outpost. That’s the only place a lone human would be heading. An easy track, even after five days.
“You’ll need at least four of you to go. Are you together?”
Much to the surprise of the others, the warrior says “Yes, they’re with me.”
After Skinner and his men have gone, the warrior turns of the three friends. “My name is Thesis. Can any of you track?”
Mendez leaves the others to go carousing and is often gone for days without being seen.
The others exploit their time by spending some of their gold on new equipment and it’s there they encounter a new face in Seawell. People come and go all the time in this border town, but this oddly garbed Human stands out from the others. Though not particularly tall, the breadth of shoulders is almost freakish. Add to that the assortment of tattoos and piercings, you’d think him a young barbarian. His bearing and armour though mark him out as more refined but just as scary.
You all spot a possible job pined to the shop notice board simultaneously:
1000 GP REWARD FOR THIEF CAPTURED OR KILLED!
SEEK OUT SKINNER. OWNER OF THE GAMBLING BAR: THE MULES HAND.
The Warrior tears off the notice and strides from the shop.
The three friends glance at each other and hurry after him.
They get to a relatively unstained looking bar.
The Warrior turns to them and glares. Eolar is a fraction taller but only half the weight. They all step back a little.
Before anything can be said however, a portly man wanders out through the front door. He’s backed by two large and aggressive looking thugs.
“Are you here for the job?”
The group nod in unison.
“I’ve already hired another group. Still, they’ve been gone for over four days now. They’re probably dead.”
The man stares at them for a moment.
“If you want it, feel free to take it. The offer stands to whomever returns with my ring and proof of the oily thief’s death.”
He pauses for breath and pulls a handkerchief from his sleeve.
“Five days ago, an adventurer wagered heavily against me in a game of Poker. He bet so large, the only way I could equal the bet was by offering my magic ring. Impossibly he beat me. He took his winnings and left. It was only then that I discovered he had cheated.
My only son went after him. There was a confrontation and my boy was killed.”
Skinner dabs his eyes before continuing.
“He fled into the forest. I sent some of my men after him, but it was too late; he’d escaped. I hired a group of adventures the next day but they’ve failed to return. Catch him and bring back my ring and I will give you the thousand gold pieces.”
Wer considers the problem for a moment. There’s only one real path through the woods and it eventually leads to an Elven outpost. That’s the only place a lone human would be heading. An easy track, even after five days.
“You’ll need at least four of you to go. Are you together?”
Much to the surprise of the others, the warrior says “Yes, they’re with me.”
After Skinner and his men have gone, the warrior turns of the three friends. “My name is Thesis. Can any of you track?”
Thesis the Unproven
Trained for war, educated in combat and schooled in fighting, Thesis is ready - he has always been ready. His father, uncles and brothers all fought in great battles and imparted their knowledge and love of killing deep into Thesis' psyche, and yet Thesis himself was always told to stay at home.
Dark skinned and covered in his family's tribal tattoos with his warrior's-tail hair-knot flowing as he swings his great halberd he is indeed an awesome sight. On his 17th birthday he leaves home seeking great adventure - will he find it?
Dark skinned and covered in his family's tribal tattoos with his warrior's-tail hair-knot flowing as he swings his great halberd he is indeed an awesome sight. On his 17th birthday he leaves home seeking great adventure - will he find it?
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