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  #121  
Old 11-17-2018, 07:45 PM
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Silly People
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Grumveldt was just happy to be alive. As he sat with his friends, he took in the praise from the Captain with a blank stare. Even the jabs of Garrus seemed inconsequential. Bone-Dirth spoke up in his mind, These men are but flea specks, wizard. The literal scat of a flea. Your power will dwarf them like a boot heel dwarfs a single ant. Be ready. When Garrus continued to deride them, the flame started to rise from behind Grum's left eye, Thank the gods no the right! but Grumveldt pushed it back an removed the presence of his would be patron.

The wizard listened carefully to the fool Garrus, like a child given a crossbow or a firebrand. He was a bully and sad. Dangerous, to be sure, but sad in his own way. One day Grumveldt would return to destroy him, or perhaps he would help his warrior champion and colleague Trilla do it for them. Time would tell.

Before they set out, Grumvledt went to Lorcan and Pat. "You two are rangers, and trappers as I recall. Would you take the skin of one of the dire wolves I helped defeat? It would make for a fine cloak with he wolf head on top?" Grum was not vain, but the cloak might intimidate the weak willed.

On the RoadThe next night after they rested, Grum gathered more herbs and roots for their meal. He cleaned the two wolf skins and offered to sew another lining for a second dire wolf cloak for Trilla, Pat or Lorcan if they liked. By evening, Grum prepared his tale and after they ate some sweet tubers and mushrooms he'd found, he spoke to the group.

"I was born in a small hut in the Hendley Bog near Maryanneville, the capitol of Boglia. My father was a kind man, but otherwise bit of a do nothing. My mother was homely, but kind. She grew herbs and a garden that barely kept us fed. She would sing songs of the fey and the fiends of the Bog, and I thought she was telling me amusing tales to entertain a child.

We had a small village of sorts, more like a central bonfire. We were really a small tribe more than anything. When I was young, to be honest I know not how old I am...when I was young maybe seven or eight? My mother got ill with a pox. My father was rather worthless you see, though he did his best. He caught the pox as well, but for him it left his left leg and left arm lame."
Grum paused for a moment, and by now his new friends saw how much he really despised his father. They could see a twinge of hatred on his face.

"So we began to starve. Slowly as the roots and dried goods ran out. Slowly as a child of eight could not keep up with the needs of three people. Mother died then, she died of the pox and not enough food to male it through." Grumveldt laughed. "A simple poultice I know how to make now. Simple. But not then. I did learn a LOT about herbs and roots though. I found a small book of my mothers, and I experimented. Don't eat weed skim, Lorcan. Bad wrenching, unfortunately."

"In my mothers small book,(how I could read another time), I found mention of a man, Fist-of-Lear. A man who lived deep in the Hendley Bog and could teach you to use the weave. Well, I was a skinny starving lad of eight. My imagination caught onto that and I decided I would give it a go! I'd go find this Fist-of-Lear.

The next day I packed what scraps were left and I left my father, possibly to die. It took a while, days I think. I was sick with starvation and weakness. It's all...a haze. But I met Fist. He was there. an old elfish appearing fellow. Shriveled and green in places. He wore rags and lived in a hut made of sticks and moss."
Grum paused and his eyes went wide.

" Yes, I know this sounds like pure ********. But Fist-of-Lear knew magic! He taught me how to read and write magic. He taught me how to cast a cantrip and make paper from bark. He taught me to scribe and he helped me write my first spell book." Grum reached into his coat and pulled forth a hodge-podge of papers, parchment and bark in a leather folio. "And the Wizard of Hendley Bog was born."

Grumveldt sighed and looked to his friends. "And there is more, much more. I was able to save my father. I knew magic! It saved me and my father..." Grum's face looked into the fire, "for a time. I was a child. I didn't understand the price. And what Fist was preparing me for: preparing me for Bone-Dirth."

"But Bone-Dirth is a tale for another telling. I've taken too much of the story telling time.". Grumveldt smiled at his friends. "I stopped two of those damn dire wolves with my spells, by the way. And I have many attributes. Modesty is not one of them. I am Grumveldt the Wizard and I am your ally. If we practice, I might even be able to teach you how to use the weave."




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Action: Arcane Recovery to regain a slot. Healer's Kit x2 to bind wounds.
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OOC SoI think I am going to take Druid next level or bard so we can have healing spells as a group. If I take druid then we can access the ranger type spells as a group effort. That seems to suit this world well. Just a thought. Losing out on wizard school next level would be sucky, but I'd do it for survival's sake. We don't want to rely on NPCs to heal us every encounter.


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  #122  
Old 11-18-2018, 01:31 PM
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Pardriech Hardburn (Pat) – Moving on
Aftermath
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The camps were celebrating the return of the troops bearing the body of the last dire wolf. Now they were save, all seemed in good song. The Lady Elayne approached Pat and the others, saying "Good work not getting dead, and my apologies that this even happened. We had no intel that any rival houses might be prowling the lanes looking to impact our business. Rest assured, this transgression will be dealt with, once the aggressor has been identified...". Pat struggled to his feet out of respect, wincing.
”M’Lady” he said ”And thank you for your intervention. Had it not been for the prompt arrival of your troops and the ministrations of your good captain I do not believe I would be here to thank you now.”

The Lady stepped away to turn to her duties with her men, but Pat caught sight of Sir Garrus heading to his men. The knight caught sight of Pat with a look of distain. Well he saved my life, I owe him respect as least. He bowed towards the passing knight, saying ”Sir Garrus, my true thanks for slaying that creature. Without your strength and trueness of blow I believe I would not have survived the night.”. He bowed more deeply, taking care to not turn his back on the departing knight.

Back at the campfire Lorcan had recovered some of this spirits and was rehearsing their old grudge about the knight. Pat kept quiet my sworn enemy saves my life … hell, I’m too wounded to stand properly. I’ll worry about that later. Then Grum spoke up

"You two are rangers, and trappers as I recall. Would you take the skin of one of the dire wolves I helped defeat? It would make for a fine cloak with he wolf head on top?"

”For sure” answered Pat ”It’s my trade after all. The one Garrus slew will make a poor trophy, its head is split, but its body will make a fine cloak. And the one yonder looks complete save a couple of arrow holes. That will serve your purpose well.”

Pat first passed his nemesis, picking up the halved head and looking it in the ruined eyes you’ve taught me a lesson beast and he levered out the remaining of its teeth, stowing them in a pouch. Then he tried to haul the other creature’s body to where he could set to work on it, but his wounds had sapped his strength.

”Hoy! Trilla! Any chance you can help me lug these things?”


Telling tales
Pat slept more soundly than he had for many nights that night, and was surprised by Lorcan shaking him awake in the morning. The caravan was packed and starting to move. He groaned from pain from head to toe and his abdomen still felt on fire. He walked slowly alongside the caravan for the morning before one of the drivers felt pity for him and let him ride the afternoon on the back.

That evening as Grum told his story while working diligently on the two beasts pelts, Pat found his mind drifting to his visions of last night. As the group fell quiet he broke the silence …

”I too have been thinking of the past …” he paused ”… and the future … not so much thinking, but having thoughts visited upon me. Last night I mean. When I lay at death’s portal.”

He stopped wondering whether to continue, but seeing the interest in his companions faces he did.

”I’ve not lived a life to be proud of, you see.” he said ”And when I was nearing death my past came to haunt me. I can blame my father, sure. I can blame the whole family and those around me that made me do it. But it was this hand.” he held it up with accusation in his eyes ”Aye this hand steered by me that did it.”.

He saw the confusion in his companions eyes. ”You see I come from a hard place. Hard, nasty and violent. And I was part of it – hard, nasty and violent. You had to be to survive … to thrive. And I was good at it gods damn it. Very good.”. His head hung ”you know last night they visited me. All those I have ended, they visited me. Shouting their fear and despair back in my face. As my life ebbed, they yelled their anger at me ending them.” he looked up, tears were staining his face.

”That’s why I left. That’s why I’m here. Get away from that ‘I want what’s yours’ mindless violence, that lack of purpose, that kill or die world…

…But they’re there! Waiting for me when I die. Waiting to hold me to account.”
he sniffed back the emotion. ”I need to make amends, I need to put this” he held forward his arm again ”to a use with meaning …”

His friends made to speak, but he held up his hand to stop them ”But that’s not all I saw.” he said pausing, hesitating to continue. ”I saw you all … not now … the future maybe. We were strong. All of us. You Grum, Trilla, you were the people’s champion. Lorcan, captain of the guard. And the Lady Elayne, she was with us, part of us, too. Like you said Grum, we can act together, create something great.” Pat stopped, looked around, cautious not to say anything that, overheard, would lead to trouble.

”It could be our fate. That might be why I was sent from death. Back to help you all, us all. To achieve something that was worthy of the cheers from the crowds I heard, … I saw … “ Pat realised he was racing ahead in his mind, his audience were staring at him ”or maybe its just nonsense, near death illusions … but I need something. I need a reason …” he trailed off.


The way of the weave
The next morning Pat encouraged Grum to join him in a quick scout around the camp, to see if they might net some morning game. While they walked, he spoke quietly …

”Grum, this magic of yours. You talk about how you were taught in shaping the forces around us in some way …” he went quiet at the rustling of leave and loosed an arrow that fell short of its target ”Do you think it can be taught? By you to others I mean.” he picked up the arrow and continued ”You see when I am out here, amongst nature, I feel something. More than the physical, more that what I see, smell and taste; there is more driving and keeping it all together. Sometimes I use that feeling to … “ he stopped again, this time taking a bird with his shot ”… anticipate where the creatures are. I sometimes fancy I can influence them …”. He looked the wizard in the eye ”Do you think this is anything to do with what you do? Might you somehow be able to help me explore this, see if I can use it further to help us …”



 


 


Last edited by Jon; 11-18-2018 at 01:33 PM. Reason: Fixing format and adding stat block
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  #123  
Old 11-18-2018, 03:53 PM
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Trilla
Where are my damn axes?
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As the battle died down and the last of the wolf corpses were hauled into camp, Trilla found herself retracing her steps looking for her thrown handaxes. It was a silly gesture really as they were very easily replaced for but a pittance, but the walking helped her burn out some of her ever present frustration...the silence...her silence... was deafening.

And so Trilla walked, kicking her way noisily through the clinging brush and undergrowth. With time she found both axes and she noticed the gleam of fresh blood on one of them. Ha...I did get the big bastard! she thought as she wiped the blades down and replaced them on their loop holsters on her hips. It felt good to stretch her legs but nonetheless the half-orc returned to her companions just as Lady Elayne approached. "Good work not getting dead, and my apologies that this even happened. We had no intel that any rival houses might be prowling the lanes looking to impact our business. Rest assured, this transgression will be dealt with, once the aggressor has been identified...".

Trilla nodded her head...slightly respectful but not overtly so. The warrior pointed to Pat and Lorcan and raised both hands into the air above her head. Trilla then bowed her head down even lower in thanks for the captain, someone in the noblewoman's employ, saving her friends. When Elayne turned and left, Trilla happily helped Grum and Pat collect the wolf corpses. A dire wolf cloak sounded marvelous indeed, thought Trilla as she easily lifted the heavy animal onto her shoulder.



The pain of the pastThe next night the half-orc sat and listened wide-eyed as a child at Grum's tale of bog wizards and worthless fathers. We all have our stories, she thought sadly as she tried to picture her mother dying in the dirt of the arena, her throat viciously slashed and staining the ground red with her blood. Trilla had been born at the same moment that her mother died and the more she listened to Grum’s tale, the more agitated that she became. Pat chimed in and spoke of his own rough upbringing. Trilla felt, in that moment, a keen connection to the man. She had been forced to kill as well...it was not only expected of her but necessary for her own survival. She had never had to kill out of anger… it was only business… not personal… and that made it much harder to forgive herself.

As Pat spoke, Trilla moved nearer to him and placed her arm around his shoulder. Even with a tongue there would have been no words. She knew the pain of guilt...regret. It was a hateful fire that burned perpetually deep in Trilla’s soul. The trials of the last few days had only stoked the flames further. The warrior knew that eventually her mounting rage would erupt. Pat and Grum had their ways of dealing with their pain...Trilla was now finding hers...rage...pure blind rage. It called to her.



OocI plan on going barbarian next level...thoughts?

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  #124  
Old 11-19-2018, 02:47 PM
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Fancy Coats and Good Company
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Lady Elayne keeps her standard smile on as the captain makes sure that her fallen new employees do not succumb to their wounds. She curtsies at the praise from Pat and Trillia, speaking with happiness, but also some strain at the loss of some of her men; "Of course Master Hardburn, think nothing of it, we take care of our own in house Charybdis, and never leave a man behind. Our soldiers are well trained and hand picked by one of the captains at arms from ample numbers of people looking to join the ranks of our regulars. You wont see them breaking and running from some mangy dogs." She then gives another curtsy to the group; "Thank you Master Grumveldt, for your timely mystical interventions, it is entirely possible that you saved at least one life this day. But I must cut our conversation short and see to the men, and pay the ones who returned with the dire wolf. A leader must always keep her word after-all, lest she risk losing the respect of those that follow!"

With that she saunters over to the returning group, and holds her arms out in congratulations, speaking loudly to be heard over the cheering of her men; "Outstanding work gentlemen! You soldiers, you brave kraken-born have all three well earned this reward and claimed vengeance for those who fell from these dogs!" With that she dolls out five gold to each of the three who fought the beast and brought it back together.

In the Morning:

Once the fuss has died down, and the first rays of the sun begin to peak over the horizon, Lady Elayne begins to personally works with the other soldiers to get three boxes prepared for their fallen men. Once they are placed in the boxes, they are set to the side of the road, stacked high and with wolf skulls on spikes around them in honor of their sacrifice. The Symbol of the house is burned into the side and top of every box before Elayne gives a short speech in their honor as the caravan gathers to listen before heading out; "I cannot say that I knew these men well, but I do know that they were brave men, each and every one. When the great Maw came for them, they stood their ground without fear or cowardice, only courage and valor. They held the line with us, and died for us, ensuring that we will be able to go home to our families when this run is done." She raises and lowers her tone as the mood required, emphasizing heroism and valor and reducing her voice to a loud whisper carrying across the crowd when sadness need be displayed.

She then sheds a single tear in their honor before continuing; "Shed a tear for our brothers, and carry on, for they are in the hands of the great mother now, preparing for the end times when we will all stand together once more. Their bodies will be sent out to sea to rejoin the mother and feed her children as has always been done, and always will be done. So to you brave Kraken-Born, I salute thee!" She then slams her fist into her breast in salute, looking at the brave men before her, that would all give their lives for the house, beaming with pride.

With the burial ceremonies done, the Captain and Elayne perform a ceremonial ritual to ward off the scavengers and any who would desecrate the dead, so that they might sit unbothered until the next return caravan comes through and takes them back to be sent out at sea.

A Young Teacher:

As the group travels onward, Elayne continues her lessons with Trillia. Inevitably they butt heads from time to time, and Elayne occasionally becomes frustrated with that and the slowness in which Trillia learns, even storming out of her own tent from time to time to blow off steam in fits of childish rage, showing evidence that even beneath her facade of nobility, she was still a young girl doing her best to be a woman.

Should Trillia look around in her absence, she finds a large number of astrological charts and equipment to track and chart the stars, along with many ledgers and mathematical devices for calculations. There are also a number of fictional books about knights and heroes, and a scroll case filled with fliers listing the results and summaries of every gladiatorial fight in the major arenas of Trillia's homeland.

The only other thing of note is a small portrait painted of a tall, blocky man in a fine captain's silk, with a fantastic Tri-hat on. He carries a rapier and sword-breaker. Beside that man is a tall Elf, standing in full plate armor designed after a Charybdis with soulless eyes looking at the painter, a scowl on his face and one hand on his falchion. Elayne is young in the painting, maybe ten years old, and the man with the Tri-hat has a hand on her shoulder.

The Journey Onward:

As the group continues onward, Elayne will stop back from time to time, and invites all of them to dine with herself and the captain about three quarters of the way through the the trip. The meal is set out nicely, with slightly better rations than what is standard in the caravan, and a small bundle of fruit available from their last stop. The food is exceptional compared to the standard, and Elayne has a plate made and reserved for the cook in reward for his exquisite work on the meal.

During the meal, Elayne keeps conversation moving, talking about her family and the history of her house, relating stories of monsters of the deep, and fondly going on about the wonders of astrology and explaining the intricacies of charting stars. When the night is over, Elayne bids them farewell and is quite satisfied with the joint dinner; "Thank you all for joining me and the Captain here for a shared meal, I do hope you enjoyed my rambling stories, the histories of our house, and of course, my favorite hobby, charting stars. I hope the night is pleasant for you all and that the mother smiles upon you this night."

With renewed vigor, after what she viewed as a successful team building experience, Elayne goes on to work on her star charts until the wee hours of the morning, still having a bit of insomnia, even after a month of travelling on the open trail...


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Last edited by Unforgiven; 11-28-2018 at 02:50 PM.
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  #125  
Old 11-22-2018, 06:37 PM
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Pardriech Hardburn (Pat) – On the road
Walking and talking
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Pat and Grum emerged from the forest from their hunt and conversation, birds in hand, just as the caravan was readying the leave. Pat felt stronger that morning, less stiff, so he declined the offer of a ride on the wagon, instead passing the time with Trilla and Lorcan as they walked behind the train.

”So did you see anything?” Pat asked of Lorcan. ”When you were unconscious?”. He’d been haunted by the dreams again that night.

As the broke for a rest at midday the Lady Elayne dropped back to enquire after their health. She cares for her people at least thought Pat and the ceremony she performed for her fallen soldiers, that was no fake, she did not have to do that.

”Repairing well M’Lady called Pat” with a smile and a nod. He kept one eye on Trilla is she softening towards the girl?

That evening Pat sought out the group’s carpenter and borrowed his drill. He spent the evening carefully drilling the base of the teeth he’d liberated from the wolf’s mouth. ”you may look fine in the pelt Trilla” he said slotting the teeth one by one onto a leather string ”But I’m keeping these close beneath my shirt” he put the strung teeth round his neck and dropped them beneath his underclothes ”to remind me”


A proper dinner
As the days passed, Pat was able to resume light guarding duties. Each day the Lady Elayne made a habit of dropping back to chat. Pat begun to drop his guard. Since the event with Sir Garrus, he’d been too cautious to be too familiar with the lady lest the knight unleash his ire. But the Lady appeared to be making a genuine effort to get to know them. Even so he was surprised with she invited them to dine one evening.

Pat took care to detour to a stream to wash some of the grime from his face and arms, and changed into his freshest clothes. He scraped his hair into the semblance or order before turning to Lorcan ”How do I look? Fit for a noble’s company?

The food was delicious and the Lady Elayne showed great skill as a hostess. She made them all feel welcome, entertaining with stories of sea monsters … it took Pat’s mind back to the innocent night hiding from the storm in the tavern … just days ago … but another life ….

He didn’t show his scepticism for the Lady’s enthusiasm for astrology. He’d learned the turns of the stars in the sky and could appreciate the skill in reducing their movements in the charts that decorated her tent … but predicting the future, or explaining people, no … he did not buy that.

When it came to his turn to talk Pat gave a sanitised version of his home life, stressing the difficulty of living on the borders, without straying into the violence he had shared with his companions a few nights before don’t want to embarrass myself in this company

Later, as Grum and the Lady were intense conversation, Pat turned to the Captain, asking

”I’ve been meaning to ask you captain … your healing … is that the same kind of thing that Grum does, his magic? Its just … well I wondered if there was any way it could be taught? It strikes me that it is a valuable skill in our line of work and if …”he paused for a moment trying to find the right words ”Or are you born with the skill?. He speared a piece of meat from his plate and chewing said ”Do you think I could learn? If I could learn it I might be able to share the load with you if it came to that again… gods forbid.”


A delicate conversation
The next morning, the Lady Elayne dropped back again with a light air about her greeting him again as Mr Hardburn. Pat liked that. He felt respected.
”The best of the morning to you too my Lady.” he said ”And my thanks once again for your kind entertainment last night. I’ve not dined so well in weeks.”

Pat hesitated for a moment come on Pat, she won’t bite …

”M’Lady … “ he paused ” … I err … I …” her eyes seemed to invite him to continue ”you know your astrology? You know how you said the stars can advise us about our future? Well do you believe we can get glimpses of the future?

I don’t mean to be forward … its just … well I think I may have had a sign.”
. He fingered his wolf-tooth necklace as he spoke.

”As I lay there … near dead I mean, before your captain saved me … as I lay there, I think I had visions. Well I saw things for sure, but I can’t help but think they were visions. Perhaps sent to me to guide me.”.

He paced a little, worrying that he was presuming too much familiarity. He looked for displeasure in her face, but could not find it. So he continued ”Some of it held me to account, but I shall not trouble you with that my Lady, it is not … er … not something I am proud of. But some of it seemed to be about us. All of us that shared company in the inn a few days ago. I saw us in celebration. Exalted by crowds. You were there receiving the praise .. Grum was with you and Trilla too. Lorcan, yes him to. But I was being torn away. I am sure it was death, pulling me from this future. But when the captain healed me I was sent back..

courage Pat, courage

”So its set me to wondering what will happen when we reach Kyre. Do you think you will be wedded in the life you described to us a few days ago. That life would seem to lend a lie to my visions …”

have I overstepped?.

”Please forgive me if this is prying … its not my place to ask such questions of a lady like you … it’s just … it’s just these dreams have unsettled me … I’m not myself …” he trailed off, awaiting a stinging rebuke.


OOC
So Pat’s got a couple of feelers out to see if how he can start to learn magic in prep for levelling up

Also a few hooks that others may want to respond to in RP … alternatively we can see where next DM post takes us

Also – in this time will we have healed? I recall that Trilla took more than a “long rest” to heal



 


 

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  #126  
Old 11-22-2018, 10:36 PM
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A Delicate Conversation
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Lady Elayne beams at his thanks and gives a curtsy, "Of course Mr. Hardburn, it was my pleasure. It was good to have some people to talk to besides the captain and Sir Garrus. Garrus is as interesting to talk to as you would imagine unless you are discussing military strategy and tactics, and then the order's ways are always best... But I am sure you don't want to hear about the drawl going on's with Garrus's flowery personality..."

She holds an amused smirk as Pat goes into his next line of questioning, which turns more to a deep thinking of the questions asked and story related; "As for visions, yes, I do believe that mortals can receive visions from a higher power, to the stars, they only offer glimpses into what is to come, very rarely so much information as what you have. I would imagine your vision stems from the trauma of nearly being killed by a giant wolf, but I am not infallible, keep an eye out for signs of your visions coming true!" She then winks at him, her smirk returning as he posits his next question.

"As to what will happen when we reach Kyre Mr. Hardburn, that is up to you all. Trillia will stay in my service until she repays her life debt, the rest of you have no contractual obligations to stay with my house after our arrival." She sways, then heads into a swirling curtsy, in a most childlike and innocent manner, her face showing the mock innocence that she wished to convey; "As for myself Mr. Hardburn, I may not like my destiny, but duty is lighter than a feather, while being heavier than a mountain. I will do my duty to my house and try to make the most of the life I have."


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  #127  
Old 11-24-2018, 07:52 PM
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Trilla
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Trilla is tired of her lessons... tired of this pretentious noblewoman, regardless of her possible good intentions. All the sumptuous meals in the world can not wash the charcoal taste of servitude from the half-orcs mouth. So when the chance to tweak Elayne presents itself, Trilla never hesitates. The warrior gets a perverse sense of pleasure from frustrating her tutor to the point of outbursts and displays of immaturity. Trilla knows that the noblewoman thinks her to be slow but at the same time, the ex-gladiator has noticed Elayne's scroll of bout results. If she is so interested in the games then this foolish girl should know how I would respond to chains... real or otherwise!

There was only one thing that seemed to stick with Trilla whenever she left Elayne's tent and it was the creepy portrait. A young Elayne surrounded by two men… one with his hands on the poor girl. Most likely predators… especially the one with the weird hat. Trilla had met her share of these type of men but luckily she was protected by her trainer, Grexer. After he split the head of the first man who touched her… the rest stayed away. Who protected poor Elayne?

**********************

When Elayne pays the peasants a visit after yet another fancy dinner, Trilla just rolls her eyes and tries to ignore her prattling. The half-orc understands Pat’s need to converse with the girl but she wishes he would do it elsewhere. Trilla sits impassively until she hears the noblewoman yet again mention the warrior’s life debt. Trilla snaps her gaze towards Elayne and knowing that she would probably do something rash in the next few moments, Trilla turns and stomps quickly away. Trilla can feel an overwhelming surge of anger wash over her. The anger has been building nonstop since the Inn and the half-orc is finding it harder and harder to control. As the angry heat builds throughout her very being, Trilla finds her armor to feel almost suffocating. She hastily strips off her chainmail, trying to find the air to cool her emotions. The anger, still billowing red hot, Trilla finds the nearest tree and begins to bury her axe deep into the trunk, over and over and over again.




Ooc
 

 

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  #128  
Old 11-25-2018, 06:54 AM
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Pardriech Hardburn (Pat) – Trouble’s brewing
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Well she’s never going to be committal thought Pat as the Lady Elayne trotted up to the main body of the caravan. ”I’m going off track a while … see if I can find something for us to eat this evening.” he called. He noticed that Trilla seemed a little perturbed. She always was when the Lady came to visit, but thought nothing more of it as he ducked into the bushes and out of sight of the road.

Nothing … its really quiet today. There was really nothing … not a twitch since he’d startled the grouse that had been sheltering in a hollow as he set out. Pat made for a nearby ridge to gain a better vantage over the environment. Nothing… nothing …. Pat stopped half-way up the ridge, paused, listened Something’s amiss he thought. There were no birds, not even the persistent click of insects in the grass you hear if you are really quiet. He looked up. No … that’s not right …

He sprinted to the crest of the ridge, looking around, taking in the sweep of the sky. Below, he could make out the caravan, making slow progress and lagging behind his comrades. It seemed like Trilla was chopping wood, while others were gathered around her. Further ahead he could see smoke rising from the wood maybe a camp or house of some kind But he could not tear his eyes from the sky. As he watched the clouds move crosswise above it woke a childhood memory - Seidriech had told his grandfather’s story of the devastation of their village to the gathered family, Pat had sat there entranced by the vivid description of the gathering clouds that heralded the storm. He could feel the boards of Seiddriech’s house beneath his behind, he could smell the wood burning in the hearth …

Pat shook himself from his reverie. Down to the southwest he saw the finger ... faintly at first, then distinctly. Twisting cloud reaching down to the ground. While it was distant he could make out flecks of trees being torn by their roots and thrown up. It looked like it was heading their way. If I’m right, this is serious he thought starting a leg-jolting run down the ridge Caravan first, friends next he thought, reflecting on the time is will take to secure the baggage and their animals. As the ground levelled, he broke into a sprint toward’s the Lady Elayne’s position. She seemed in conference with her men.

As he broke through the bushes into the road the startled guards first drew their weapons, then relaxed as they saw who it was.

”Lady Elayne, Lady Elayne!” he called as he neared her … then taking a moment to recover his breath he began

”Evil weather’s coming … “ he said ”from those clouds I’d say we need to take shelter - urgently.” he pointed up ”see how they move? Its not the gathering blackness of the storms we’ve suffered these past few days, no … its something worse than that.” the words were spilling over themselves ”You see how they go one way and the other at once” referring to the fast scudding clouds above ”and that tinge in the sky?” his eyes were communicating urgent attention ”it was skies like this that preceded the destruction of our village in my great-grandfather’s time. We still talk about it. If I’m right, these winds will gather into a great finger that will reach down to the ground and pick up and shatter all that it touches.

I saw the finger forming, to our south ... it looked like it was heading our way. We’ve got to act now. First we’ve got to get some shelter from these trees – if the finger sweeps past here it will rip them up and hurl themselves at us … then we’ve got to secure the caravan and take shelter!

I think I saw a sign of something ahead. Just smoke. Maybe its a house, maybe just some travellers setting up camp. I suggest you lend me a horse or send your fastest riders to find out. Either way we have to act now!”



“OOC"
So I see this happening in parallel to the group reacting to Trilla’s rage. Depending on Elayne and the main caravan’s response, Pat’s next action will be to run back and warn his friends.


 


 


Last edited by Jon; 11-25-2018 at 11:49 AM.
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  #129  
Old 11-26-2018, 07:27 PM
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Silly People
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Grumveldt sat with Pat and Lorcan after a days foraging. He had been quiet for a time considering all their questions concerning magic. He wanted to be honest with his friends, but the fact remained, they needed answers. The hedge wizard tore into a bit of fowl the rangers had caught, then spoke after swallowing the savory bird.

"Gentlemen, magic is a fickle thing. I may have been overly ambitious and prideful when I said I could teach you." Grum shook his head and frowned, "I've been taught by what the members of the college would call a hedge wizard, or a sorcerer. So technically I'm a sorcerer, a self taught mage."

"Though rare, men may connect with nature, or..." Grum snorted derisively, "the gods. So your connections with nature may be fostering a link to the weave. Such knowledge might be best taught in Kyre. Or by a skilled teacher." Grumveldt began to have angst as he thought about both Fist and Bone-Dirth. He would never be able to benefit the same way these men might. The last thing he needed was for some scholarly wizard poking into his soul and finding Bone-Dirth. He wasn't sure the others would be so understanding.

"I will do my best to guide you along magical pathways, but control of my magic is not exactly my strong suit. I'd say I go with the tide, so to speak. " The wizard shrugged his shoulders, and then nodded at the wonderful squab. Their cooking skills had improved by collaboration immensely.


TrillaLater on the journey, Grumveldt heard the chopping of wood and went o find Trilla, viciously cutting at a tree with her axe.
The sorcerer walked over to the half-orc staying just out of reach of her blows. He saw her armor lying nearby in the underbrush, and had to wondered what the hell she was doing until she saw the sheer frustration on her face. The sorcerer removed his bag and placed it behind him in the underbrush next to the warrior's.

Then he removed his wolf cloak and his tunic. Contrasted to the nearby Trilla, Grum was fit and frankly miniscule compared to the half-orc.
He traced over his tattoos and felt the suppression of Bone-Dirth. He reached ever so slightly for the wild weave and felt the exhilaration of the unpredictable magic. Then he chanted to Trilla as she chopped away. His left eye glowed red. Thank the gods not his right.

"Use it, Trilla. Frustration, anger, a dark growl in the back of your throat. Use it to destroy your enemies." Grumveldt pushed the weave away, but used the Dark Lion Dance Fist had taught him like a physical mantra. "Just as I use the wild weave. USE IT!!" Grumveldt yelled to the sky. His left eye glowed red like a demon's flame.

"People will fear your might! People will fear your rage!" Grumveldt started laughing maniacally. The wizard was sorely tempted to grab the weave and cast a spell, just for a short moment, but his discipline held him in check. He stopped laughing and dared to moved forward to place a hand on Trilla's shoulder.

"Use it, Trilla. The wild gladiator. But don't let it use you."


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Last edited by Bluejack; 11-27-2018 at 08:18 AM.
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  #130  
Old 11-28-2018, 04:38 AM
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Lorcan Rood


”So did you see anything?” Pat asked of Lorcan. ”When you were unconscious?”.

Lorcan shook his head. "It is kind of hard to remember. It seemed like a cold dark place was trying to draw me in, but I kept looking back. I had a feeling that something was left unfinished. Something I had to do. And by Goodness and Grace, it looks like I am back to do it."

A few days later, they had scouted out a stream and had a chance to clean both themselves and their clothes. Pat took a moment to preen. ”How do I look? Fit for a noble’s company?

It wasn't until then that Lorcan remembered that they had been invited to dine with Lady Elayne. It made him glad that they were able to get a proper grooming. Feeling better than he had in days, Lorcan took the opportunity to joke with Pat.

"You look sharp enough to get in trouble with the daughter of some backwoods noble! Lucky for you, it isn't a harvest ball that we have been invited to attend."

When time for the dinner came, Lorcan was glad to see the Captain who had helped bring him back from the brink of darkness by adding to Grum's healing. Lorcan quietly thanked the Captain, but did not press the matter lest he make the man feel uncomfortable.

Otherwise, Lorcan mainly remained quiet during the dinner and listened as the others spoke. He did take the opportunity during a lull in the conversation to make a statement in an almost offhanded manner, although it seemed to be aimed in the direction of Lady Elayne.

"One thing I have learned, it is best to be surrounded by people that you can trust no matter what arises. People who will keep you safe. A few close friends can be as effective as a small army."

And just as nonchalant as he had spoken, Lorcan returned to his meal, intently biting into a piece of meat that he was fairly sure was fried leg of lizard.

A few days later, the topic of magic once again came up among the small company. Lorcan listened closely to what Grumveldt had to say on the matter.

"There has been some usage of the arts among my mother's side of the family. So maybe, I might have a bit of the spark that allows it. If you are so inclined Grum, you can continue to inform us about the intricacies that you know as we continue toward the capital. If by the time we reach Kyre and you think it is worth our pursuing further, then we will look for a formal teacher. And my promise from earlier to aid you in your own endeavors still stands."

Lorcan turned to Trilla and gave her a wink. "And we'll get you patched up and acting as a free agent again. Maybe by that time, our little band will find a business venture that interests us all. Anyone ever think about becoming a courier?"



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  #131  
Old 11-28-2018, 05:34 PM
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A Storm a Brewing
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Lady Elayne nods slowly as Mr. Hardburn rambled, she was watching the black clouds rumbling in the distance with a morbid curiosity. "Indeed you are correct Mr. Hardburn. It appears one of the Mother's Tentacles is forming above the land here. I must confess that I am curious as to what this will do, I have only ever seen them over water."

She then turns to the captain, and yells over the wind; "Captain, I do believe we should send out a few scouts to look for a shelter, else we should begin strapping the caravan down in the woods?"

She then turns back to Mr. Hardburn and gives him a reassuring smile; "Don't worry Mr. Hardburn, the Mother looks after her children. Lets get into some cover while we await the scouts." With that she begins to move her horse down towards the woods slowly, so that she can speak to Hardburn as she goes; "Mr. Hardburn, what is the difference with these Tentacles on land? Do they go out of their way do devour the walkers of the land?"


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  #132  
Old 11-30-2018, 03:59 AM
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Pardriech Hardburn (Pat) – Trouble’s brewing – part 2
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”Their results are evil, m’Lady, but I don’t believe they have evil intent. More the fickle hand of nature than a malign intelligence. said Pat. He saw with relief the riders setting off to check the road ahead. ”But you’ve seen these fingers, tentacles for yourself? Mine is a story passed down.

Indeed it did strike in-land. My village was devastated. Those that took shelter in the baron’s stone halls weathered the event with no harm – save the creation of the crooked tower in his manor. But it was those that sheltered in their homes - where the finger touched the homes they were shattered like a bundle of sticks. Since the finger cut a swathe through our village dozens perished that night.

The strange thing is the nearby villages suffered nothing but a windy night. Seems that the effect of the finger is very local. If if passes over us, then we are in great danger … if it passes north or south a little we may be safe. How goes it on the sea? How do they move? Do they move straight or weave around?”
.

Pat looked back at the men strapping down the caravans Good sense, they’ll not be hall big enough to shelter those wagons … who knows what will happen if the wind takes their baggage, they’ll be not profit in the journey for House Charybdis. He turned back to the Lady Elayne

”I’m going to head back to my companions. Last I saw they had lagged behind to fell some wood. I’d hate for this storm to come to them unawares. Would you care to join me? or does your duty keep you with your men and their wagons?”

OOC
I’ll hold fire on actually reaching everyone else in case there is a response from Trilla before Pat get’s there. Left it open for Elayne to be with Pat or not as he arrives



 


 

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  #133  
Old 11-30-2018, 03:10 PM
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Trilla
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Trilla tore into the trees scattered about her, an axe bearing tornado wreaking havoc on everything in her path. The half-orc’s heart pounded in her chest and she felt the blood throbbing in her veins. Trilla was angry… angry beyond any and all comprehension. Angry at a world that had deprived her of even a moment’s peace since the moment of her birth. Angry that for one brief second the gladiator had thought that she might have found her place… with new friends… a new beginning.

But Trilla was also scared… no… terrified. That one brief moment… the one time that the Half-Orc felt accepted for who she was… flickered and died, ended by Garrus’ muddy boot grinding into her throat in the dark of the night. Now Trilla faced the prospect of entering a city of strangers, strangers all too willinging to put an orc in its place. In Gormia, Trilla had notoriety… notoriety she had earned through struggle and skill, to help her navigate her place in the world. Now she was nothing but an orc… a brute… a monster.

Trilla continued to vent her rage as she heard movement behind her, "Use it, Trilla. Frustration, anger, a dark growl in the back of your throat. Use it to destroy your enemies. Just as I use the wild weave. USE IT!!" she heard Grum yell. The gladiator turned, her yellow eyes narrowed and her breath hard and fast. Her fingers shifted on the heft of her axe as she glared threateningly at Grum. The steadfast mage did not falter. "People will fear your might! People will fear your rage!" he continued as he dared to step closer to the towering orc.

Trilla abruptly dropped her axe to the forest floor as Grum laid his small hand on her shoulder. "Use it, Trilla. The wild gladiator. But don't let it use you,” Grum whispered. Trilla looked at her true friend and placed her hand on his shoulder as she began to assert control over her emotions. Reaching into her belt, Trilla produced a sharp dagger and stepping back from Grum, she began to cut the flowing blonde locks from her head. As her hair fell and was whipped away by a sudden howling wind, Trilla smiled… if they want a monster… a monster they will get.




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Last edited by Begon Ugo; 11-30-2018 at 08:13 PM.
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  #134  
Old 12-01-2018, 10:24 AM
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Pardriech Hardburn (Pat) – Trouble’s brewing – part 3
Clash of storms
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Pat saw the clearing where he’d left his companions ahead. He looked up anxiously, seeing the clouds continuing their cross-wise movement. He craned to see over tree-tops afraid to see the finger pointing towards them. It’ll take a while yet he thought it did not appear to be rushing across the land .

”Hoy!” He called as he approached … there’s trouble afoot!”. Trilla and Grum were in conference towards the back of the clearing by the wood she’d been splitting. They seemed to hold Lorcan’s attention. ”There’s a mighty storm heading!” he called ”No, more than a storm, a whirling cloud that can pick you up and dash you … “

He was cut short as Grum stepped back to reveal Trilla, standing in her new, terrible, glory. Her armour had been set aside and her limbs showed nicks and cuts from the wood that had been hewn; but it was her face, her head that caught him short. She was shorn of her hair, those long locks were gone and her skull too had been nicked in her makeshift shearing … the knife still held in her hand.

”Trilla? …” Pat said, crossing towards her ”What? What’s happened?”. He looked to Grum and Lorcan, then back to Trilla.

Pat was torn, the coming storm, or the welling rage he could see in Trilla’s eyes.
OOC
Wanted to get the group together before Creed’s post

I’ve left it open whether Elayne will have followed Pat to the others.



 


 

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