Dotting in!
"I am Grok."
I am Zavier Vitoly. Giant of Port Ice
Nilus, Trunauan born and bred, let the damn greenskins come!
|
It is a fine early-spring day in southern Belkzen. The air is clear overhead, the skies are blue, and there is still a bit of a nip in the air on this day in the month of Pharast.
Zavier Vitoly, a newcomer to town, has barely arrived. Looking for a place where people had the heart of warriors, and where fighting might actually present a challenge and mean something, he can't help but feal heartened by the look of a town that's ready at any moment for a seige. The walls around the town proper are close-packed tree trunks shaved to a spike, with a stone base. Inside, there are several watchtowers, and several places where signal fires can be built. The town has two levels, with a path up the side of a plateau leading to the upper town; that path itself is walled and defensible. This is a town of mostly humans, in the middle of a land overrun by warring tribes of orcs, and it looks it.
Nilus Romerus, the mountain druid, is a native of Truneau. He carries his own hopeknife, and has taken a vow to defend the city. He knows its people, he knows its geography. And, he knows the importance of the ceremony today.
Ratchet and Grok both look a little out of place. Humans are common in Trunau, as are halflings, half-orcs, and dwarves. Dwarves recognize the oread Grok, and have heard of the stone-born, but very few know what to make of the diminutive Ratchet. Not as fresh into Trunau as Zavier, these two are also relative newcomers. Former bounty hunters for orcs, they have faced some suspicion in town, but they have offered no offense, and although insular, Trunau is welcoming of any who might help defend it.
Jubilation fills the evening air in the normally staid town of Trunau, for it is the twelfth birthday of the Chief Defender's youngest daughter, Ruby, and the townsfolk have been preparing all day for the ceremony and festivities to follow. A throng of spectators has amassed at the town Commons; the buzz of the crowd subsides as the weathered town leader, Halgra of the Blackened Blades, takes the stage and begins to speak.
"Thank you all for joining us this night. I take immense pride in my responsibility as Chief Defender, especially when it comes to the honor of the hopeknife ceremony. It is always a great privilege to bequeath Trunauan youths their hopeknives as they come of age." Halgra stops speaking long enough to open an ornamental case and retrieve a slender, ornately decorated dagger hanging from a silver chain. "But tonight is a special occasion, for the recipient of this hopeknife is none other than my youngest daughter." Once again, Halgra pauses, but this time she turns to talk to the child beside her.
Nilus waits with anticipation. He has known the adolescent girl, the youngest child of the town's Chief Defender, all of his life. Indeed, she has shown some interest in his acute sense for nature, and Nilus has come to respect the girl. He may even feel some pride in seeing her come of age and officially become an adult in Trunau.
"Ruby, by the traditions of our town, you have come of age. This hopeknife represents your responsibilities as an adult and defender of Trunau. You must be willing to use it on yourself, your fellow Trunauans, and your family--even me, should it come to that. It will be a far quicker death than that which the orcs will offer, and providing it is your duty. Do you swear to guard Trunau from all comers, and to use your hopeknife only for its intended purpose?" Ruby--dusky skinned, black haired, and painfully shy--nods her head in response to her mother's question.
"If the orcs come, and there is no other option, this is where you cut--here, here, and here." Halgra demonstrates which arteries to sever while Ruby watches. When she is finished, Halgra sheathes the hopeknife and places the necklace around Ruby's neck before turning back to address the crowd.
"Tonight, Ruby becomes a full member of our community! Let us welcome her, and celebrate her passage into adulthood! Trunau forever!" The crowd echoes Halgra's last words in unison, signaling the end of the ceremony.
-----
The ceremony over, more light-hearted festivities begin. This, of course, includes much food, as well as some other entertainment and performances, and games featuring Ruby.
At this point, if you wish, you can mingle with other folks in the crowd, or with each other. I'm assuming that other than Ratchet and Grok, none of you know each other. Nilus is probably aware of Ratchet and Grok, as I'm assuming they've been in town for a little while, but he may not have interacted with them yet. Zavier is fresh into town just now, and is staying at Ramblehouse (the inn that is at #8 on the map in the Players Guide).
I'll give you a chance to roleplay some here, before the next thing happens.
Nilus watches it all with an immense sense of pride. This is his home, the place he was raised, another adult means another chance it will survive. His constant companion Brawd, Brother in the Druidic tongue, lopes along at his side his eyes reflecting the firelight.
Come on Ruby, lets dance. Nilus calls after the youth
Ewch eistedd Brawd he tells the Wolf who moves close to the fire and lays down, head in paws.
Racket watches the festivities from Grok's shoulder having climbed up and perched there at the beginning of the ceremony. Several times during the ceremony he audibly scoffs a bit, but is mostly quiet.
When the girl is handed the knife, he whispers in Grok's ear Ha! These humans and their rituals. That knife will likely come no closer to orc flesh than my male parts will come to a mermaid. And if she wants to learn how to cut up orcs, she should take a lesson from me! Am I right, my rocky friend?"
"I AM GROK", Grok says, in the closest thing to a whisper he can make, which is really a gutteral, monotone proclamation. Everyone within twenty feet can hear him clearly.
-------------------
After the ceremony, Racket steers his earthy companion over toward the food and scarfs down a bit of salted pork. When games are played, he carefully watches for any tests of skill that he might be inclined to partake in, such as archery or knife work. He will also take a moment to greet the young girl, for despite his disdain for the ceremony, he wishes to be at least not hated by the residents of Truneau.
Zavier also made a beeline for the food which is simple and hearty fare. Perfect for the big human's tastes.
Where I am from we do not get much red meat. It is all fish and squid and whale. Zavier says to the people around him as he takes a big bite of the haunch of some animal. This. This is good. Maybe I set up trading route from Trunau to Port Ice. Exchange Meat for Fish. Make Big Money. HA!
|
|
Ruby laughs gleefully as Nilus takes her out dancing amongst the crowd. The fiddlers playing a tune pick it up a notch to accompany the druid and the honoree of the ceremony.
Near Grok and Ratchet, Agrit Staginsdar, a dwarven wizard (and proprietor of the "House of Wondors"), and one of the few who seemed welcoming to the large Oread, reacts in surprise to hearing what Ratchet says under his breath. (Evidently, she was able to overhear.) She looks up at the wayang sitting atop the Oread, and says, "I know you're new in town, but... you don't know what the hopeknife is for? It's not for orc flesh. It's for your own! We all carry one. If orcs ever do come, you do not want to be taken prisoner. It's each citizen's duty to be ready with a hopeknife, to use on yourself, or your friend, in order to stop that from happening if it's your last option."
She says this as she wanders over towards one of the buffet tables with them.
There, Gorkis Meeson, a human male who is the town's apothecary, takes Zavier more seriously than Zavier probably intended to be taken. "Why, if you do that, I am sure I could find some interesting uses for exotic squid oils, the likes of which one cannot get in this part of the world!"
The festivities continue.
"And a suicide knife is any better? You should be teaching your citizens to fight, not to snuff out their own lives at the first sign of trouble! But, I do not wish to offend. I'm Racket. This here's Grok. We're available for hire if you need anyone beaten up or scared away."
|
|
Agrit gives Racket a sideways smile. "Oh, everybody learns to fight, you can be sure of it! But when you live in the middle of the Hold of Belkzen, you had better be sure you have a backup plan. You're new in town, yes? I've seen you around."
She nods to Grok. "I've heard of your folk, but I've never known one to be so tall! My name is Agrit Staginsdar."
Zavier laughs I get you two, no three, jars of oil for every one of these haunches. What animal is this?
To Agrit he says in a bit of a disappointed tone. Oh, I think before knife have great org slaying magic
Thank you for the dance Ruby. Nilus says as they finish and the music stops for a moment.
Brawd yn dod he calls after the wolf as he moves toward the food.
Hearing the large man speak of orc killing magic, he interjects
There's no magic to killing the greenskins. The magic of the hopeknife is the meaning of it...the acceptance of that meaning. The meaning is that we would die or kill our own kin, rather than surrender or accept defeat.
Brawd moves over to Nilus' side, nuzzling him in hope of something to eat.
Zavier looks despondant for a moment before brightening up. I need no knife anyway. Next orc I see. I will crush his throat with bare hands! Ha! Orc skulls would fetch a better price than even this meat.
|
|
A half-orc, half-Shoanti woman walks up next to the dwarf Agrit; Nilus recognizes the half-orc as Sara Morninghawk, the blacksmith who runs the shop known to those in the town as Clamor, and the wife of Agrit.
"Orc skulls are a copper a dozen," the half-orc woman says. "Around here, anyway. Meat, though-- have you ever been in a town that's under siege, where the farmlands around have been burned, and there are no trade routes into town? Meat is something you learn to appreciate."
She nods at the sword that the large oread (Grok) is carrying. "That's a big sword there. Do you know how to use it?"
Nilus knows that Sara, as an accomplished blacksmith, knows her weapons.
Grok looks at the half-orc woman and says "I AM GROK."
Racket chuckles from atop Grok's shoulder. "He don't like to chat much unless he has to. He can swing that sword just fine, trust me. He's taken off plenty an orc head, both when we were forced to work for the orcs and since then. I'm Racket. This chunk of granite is Grok. And you are?"
My name is Zavier. Zavier Vitoly. I am not from here
|
|
The half-orc woman chuckles. "I am Sara Morningstar. You've probably heard me at work-- I run Morninghawk's Fine Steel, the blacksmith shop in the lower half of town, but most people know it as Clamor, for obvious reasons."
Just then, a couple of young men standing at the center of the commons, both standing next to Ruby, call out for everybody's attention. Nilus recognizes the two men as Kurst and Rodrick Grath; they are the two sons of councilman Jagrin Grath, the patrol leader of the town. Rachet and Grok also recognize Roderck by face, as they've seen him at Ramblehouse, the inn where they are staying.
"It's time for the Tug-o-war!" Kurst calls out. "You all know what this is!" Roderick follows up. "Ruby gets to pick her team, and then that team will pull with Ruby against me, my brother Kurst here, and two other fine young folk with strong arms that we'll pick once Ruby is done making her selections!"
Kurst claps Ruby on the back, who looks a little bit startled at the gesture. "Go ahead, Ruby, make your picks!" he says.
Ruby, who's 12 years old and a little big awkward looks nervous. Her eyes search the crowd and very quickly fall to Nilus. He can see the pleading in them even before she points to him and says, "I want Nilus on my team."
Seeing the others near him, her eyes very quickly go to two other very large men present. You can see a smile start to crack her face as she realizes that she may be in good shape. She points first at Zavier. "I want the giant!" she says. And then she points at Grok. "And the stone giant! And the... little... man on his shoulders."
The four of you have been picked to be on Ruby's tug-of-war team. Do you agree to this honor....?
"Ha! Tug-o-war, eh? I'd be honored, little lady, though I'm not the strong one of this team!"
"I AM GROK!" Grok exclaims with a seemingly excited tone. He lumbers over toward the young woman and picks her up, placing her on his other shoulder next to Racket. "I... AM GROK." he swings his hand from left to right, obviously asking where to go for the tug-of-war competition.
Nilus smiles at the youngster OF course Ruby, lets go pull the rope..
Hah test of Strength! Zavier will do little girl proud! Zavier slaps Grok and Nilus on the shoulders almost dislodging Racket from his seat.
|
|
The four of you line up behind Ruby. Kurst and Roderick call a couple of other strong-looking townsfolk over, including a burly ulfen woman and a half-orc man. They line up opposite you. Ruby grabs the front of the rope, with Nilus behind her, then Ratchet and Grok, and Zavier holding up the back.
Your team gives the rope a powerful pull... and the entire tug of war is over in seconds! Ruby almost trips and falls as your team pulls the rope back with such strength, but Nilus is able to steady her, and she giggles with glee as she sees the wide eyes and comical exaggerated expression on Roderick's face as the powerful arms on your side pull him across the center line, and he falls forward, the rest of his team losing their balance and falling over on top of him.
A cheer rises from the crowd as Roderick and Kurst stand up. "Well done, Ruby! That may be the fastest win of a hopeknife ceremony tug of war yet!"
The two brothers lift Ruby up on her shoulders and hold her up for the cheering crowd.
(That was quite an opposed strength check there! Two 18s and a 16 on one side really helped out with that one, it turns out... together with a +2 from winning initiative, and good luck on the rolls. (And Ratchet's +1 from his 12 strength offset Ruby's -1....))
The festivities continue. You may continue to talk amongst yourselves, or mingle with the others.
Well done! Well done! Nilus says, slapping the big man on the back.
He doesn't really know how to approach the strange little shadow man and his rocky friend so he just gives them a friendly nod.
brawd , yn gadael i fynd yn dod o hyd i rywbeth i'w yfed. He calls to the Wolf, which looks bored.
Let's find something to drink yeah? he says to the other three.
Hearing Nilus mention drinks, Racket exclaims "Yes, drinks! Guide us to the drinks, my good man!"
"I AM GROK." Grok says. It will take a significant amount of alcohol for the big rock to feel the effects, but he's up to the challenge.
Haha. Little girl Victorious! Zavier picks Ruby up and tosses her high in the air; catching her and setting her safely down before the two brothers hoist her up. Then Zavier puts his arms around Nilus and Grok. Yes let us go drink and celebrate!
Nilus shows the three non natives the Truneauan Stout beer. This is some good brew!
|
|
Ruby's victorious tug-o-war team heads over to a keg of the famous Truneauan Stout Beer, only brewed in small quantities with water entirely from the Hopespring. The thick brew has a tang to it as it goes down.
You celebrate. Before long, Rodrick Grath and his brother Kurst come over to talk to you. Nilus, a native of Truneau, knows something about the brothers. Both are the sons of the patrol leader Jagrin Grath. Jagrin's getting old, but there is some scuttlebutt around town that even though both of his sons are generally admired, they may not quite yet be ready to taking over for him. Roderick in particular is famous not only as one of the town guards, but as a local poet and playwright. One poem he wrote several years ago, "Ballad of the Bloodmarch", in honor of the holding off of an orc siege, has been declared the official anthem of Truneau. He's also famous for the play Hommel and Brekka, a love story between a Shoanti warrior and a Chelish conqueror. Most recently, though, there has been some controversy about his poem "The Other Side of Contempt", about a young half-orc whose orcish mother died when human raiders attacked their settlement. Generally a flop, it made a lot of people angry; others admired him for being willing to be edgy and push the limits.
The two brothers walk up to you, Kurst standing a step behind Roderick. Roderick congratulates you. "That was nicely done. Ruby chose her team well! Nilus, I did't know you had it in you, although you did have some rather large men on your side."
He holds out his hand to Grok, Zavier, and Racket. "I'm Roderick Grath; this is my brother Kurst."
Kurst, smiles and nods.
"Nilus, you should really consider joining the town's milita!"
He turns to those newer in Trunau. "Of course, you will be all familiar with our town's situation. We're a civilized outpost, in the middle of a land overrun by orcs. Some of the orcs will trade with us, but there's always the danger that a small warleader will get it in his head that he's the one who will be able to sack Truneau. Stout and capable folk such as yourselves are always welcome in the militia. Tell me, where are you from? What brings you to Truneau?"
Nilus nods in thanks You know I'm not one to march around. I'd rather do my part out in the wilds with Grungir by my side.
"We're here for he same reason we go anywhere... we're good at dealing with orcs, and the pay's good for doing so. If your militia needs some paid mercs, we're your guys, but joining up permanently isn't our style. As for where we're from, we both used to work for an orcish tribe... not by choice, mind you. Not much that civilized folks do when it comes to orcs is by choice. We're familiar with the way they fight, and can handle ourselves well against them."
"I AM GROK." Grok nods his head in agreement.
|
|
Roderick smiles back at Racket. "You saw our ceremony today. You know that we here in Trunau take the defence of our town pretty seriously. And, indeed, it's become a bit of a way of life; living where we do, we have little choice. But, yes, we are not above hiring mercenaries if we think it will help us."
When Racket mentions that they used to look work for an orcish tribe, Kurst, standing a step behind Roderick looks briefly shocked, but you can see him try to smooth over his features quickly. (At least, if you have a bit of Sense Motive, you can see this.)
Roderick says, "Not much that civilized folks do when it comes to orcs is by choice, no. But, orcs themselves do have a culture, of sorts, and they aren't all exactly the same. One good thing about Trunau is that half-orcs fit in a bit better here than they do many places."
He turns and looks at Nilus. "Your part out in the wilds is what makes the most sense, of course. And, as always, you know we need scouts and the like."
In Port Ice I just use my strength to bet on myself and win fighting matches. I come here to find worthier challenge. Militia work seems like way to get paid at same time. It is worth a try Zavier says as he downs a mug. Hah. You make strong drink
Nilus grins at the idea of Zavier marching around with the militia.
I think I'd like to see that.
Grok takes a sip of the beer, shakes his head vigorously, then downs the rest of his beer in one gulp.
"THIS BEER GOOD. GROK BETTER NOW. BEER MAKE GROK BETTER."
Grok looks to Racket when he offers their services, and nods slowly but vigorously.
"GROK KILL ORCS FOR TOWN"
Hah. Stone man seems as strong as Zavier. This seems like a good start for certain. Zavier says slapping Grok on the back again.
|
|
Roderick makes sure that all of you know that the Trunau militia would be interested in having your contributions, and tells you to speak with him, his brother, or their father (who is the leader of the milita).
The festivities continue on into the evening, and eventually wind down. Nilus, presumably, has a residence in town. Grok and Ratchet have been staying at Ramblehouse, an inn in the lower part of town. Zavier has been staying there as well, unless this is his first night in town. If it is, Cham Larringfass, a halfling woman with a long hair tied black in a single hanging braid, will approach Zavier and make sure he knows that there are rooms at her inn. (She's the proprietor of Ramblehouse, and as such Grok and Ratchet already know her.) Indeed, it turns out that at the moment, Roderick is also renting a room in the Inn.
Let me know if you guys want to do anything else this evening, or I will fast-forward to the next morning.
Zavier will ask for a tour of the town before taking Cham's offer of a room at the Ramblehouse.
Spend some time getting to know new home, yes?
Nilus returns to his very small home after a fun night of revelry.
Racket directs a slightly drunken Grok to their room at the inn, ready to search out a contract in the morning.
"GROK TIRED. GOOD NIGHT."
Grok nods to each of his new acquaintances, then heads upstairs.
|
|
You wake the next morning, and there's quite a ruckus in town.
Zavier, Racket, and Grok wake up because they hear the hubub of a crowd gathering outside the Inn. They go downstairs through the common room to find a crowd gathered out front, spilling into the common room of the Ramblehouse. They see the proprietor, the halfling Cham Larringfass, standing off to the side, looking distraught. Kurst Grath is also standing there, looking quite shaken.
Nilus, meanwhile, wakes up in his own home, and heading out, quickly detects a buzz in town that something is going on over at the Ramblehouse. He makes his way there.
None of you need to be there very long before you find out what has happened, for everybody is talking about it: Roderick Grath was found dead in his room this morning! Cham Larringfass found him, his wrists fatally lacerated, and a bloody hopeknife in his hand.
The town militia has sealed off the area, including Roderick's room. The hustle the three who are staying at the Ramblehouse outside to join the throng there, and try to get the rest of the townsfolk who were in the inn to get outside.
(I'll pause here in case you want to react, talk to each other, or talk to the townsfolk. You can assume that many/most of the folk you met last night are present, although the 12-year-old (Ruby) who was the focus of the festivities is not, nor is her mother.
"His wrists? Is that the normal way these hopeknives are used? That doesn't sound very... efficient. You found him, mister Larringfass? I'm not really familiar with you. Who are you? What do you do? What were you doing going into his room? And WHERE'S MY BREAKFAST???"
He gives a sharp look over at the proprietor of the inn.
Nilus gasps in horror That's Roderick! We saw him just last night! he gives the goblinlike creature an angry look Obviously he didn't do this himself, we don't Surrender like that in Trunau.
"You might not surrender, but it sure looks like he did. I know we saw him last night, he was trying to recruit us to NOT get paid to kill things." Racket looks relatively unimpressed, very familiar with death and not at all in horror at the scene in front of him.
I have met some who have wished to kill themselves. Zavier says doubtfully This man did not seem like one of those last night. Seems like he was well liked here also
"MIGHT BE TRICK. SOMEONE ELSE CUT WRISTS? HEALER SHOULD CHECK."
|
|
Most of the onlookers react in shock to Racket's rude response. Cham Larringfass (who is a halfling woman) says in a both haughty and distraught tone of voice, "I was taking him his breakfast. I am the proprietor of this Inn, and as soon as the town militia is finished with their investigation, you are to remove your personal effects from your room, for you are no longer welcome to stay here."
The mood of the people present indicate that they're likely to support Larringfass in the face of this odd-looking outsider who seems more concerned about his own breakfast than the death of a respected member of the town.
A half-elf woman with curly brown hair is standing near Nilus and Zavier. Nilus recognizes her as Jess Meeson, the proprietor of "That 'n' Such", the closest thing Truneau has to a general store. She nods to both Zaiver. She also sounds somewhat distraught. "Roderick would never kill himself. He was too full of life. His plays and poems where thoughtful and sometimes dark, but they weren't grim. This can't be a suicide."
Cham Larringfass, still steaming, moves closer to Nilus and Zavier. "Nilus is right. Roderick was a resident of Truneau. We don't surrender like that here. The hopeknife is only used in dire circumstances. There was no attack at the inn last night."
A few folks nearby murmur assent to what Grok says, agreeing that there ought to be an investigation.
The few members of the militia present seem to be trying to get people to move on and get on with their day. It sounds like there's one stationed outside the room where Roderick was staying. Kurst Grath, the brother of Roderick (whom you also met last night), seems to be taking control of the guards present, but he also looks extremely shaken.
Let me know how you proceed.
Kurst, do you have any ideas about what happened here? How can I or Grungir help? I can have him check for scents...