Balbeck Morann's page

"Far as I know, nothing, unless you count Drezen. It used to be tribal lands, who knows what it's like these days. I haven't met anyone whose went up that way and come back. The hordes of demons generally discourage that sort of thing," Balbeck replies to Abigail.

”Sorry, I don’t have anything like that. Just more general stuff. Any maps of the mines would have been kept sefret by the owners. The town itself never got big enough to need mapping far as I know.”

Morann looks to finally be feeling a bit of effect from the whiskey. He smiles relaxedly.

“I’ve got some. What are you looking for?”

Balbeck empties the glass before harumpfing over the map for a few seconds. "The only thing I know of out that way is the old mining town of Varriksberg. It was founded by Ulfen immigrants shortly before the First Crusade to exploit a large vein of mithril they'd discovered there. The town never got very big before the Wound opened, but the caves system and mine there were deep. If that whole area is a desert now, that's where I'd look for someone. There was an underground lake in the caves there, fed by deep streams. That's what made the Ulfen stop there in the first place to notice the mithral. I mean, there's no guarantee what it's like now after all this time and abyssal influence..." Morann trails off, drinking the rest of the flat warm ale in his tankard. He struggles to focus on Tiknesr, probably wondering if any more whiskey would be forthcoming.

Morann is dozing light in his chair as Tiknesr approaches, his hand gripped loosely onto a mostly empty tankard. As the rat man sits down, Morann awakes with a start, spilling some of his drink onto his hand.

"Hmmpf...yes..what? Drink you say?" his breath is heavy with the fumes of ale, and his cheeks are covered in rosy broken veins. He gulps the whiskey greedily. "Desert giants you say?....How intriguing...Can you show me where you encountered them on a map? Ah, and more whiskey please."

There is a drunk guy who hangs out in The Watchful Blade who is a scholar of Sarkoris. He might be able to help you. I am him.

I believe Viorel also had some unfinished business with me.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"I'll tell you what, I'll do it for 250. Along with a promise of all the maps you make on future expeditions and of first claim to buy any artifacts from one of the Sarkoran settlements."

"What are you offering in trade? I need information on old Sarkoris, in the form of relics. Unless you have something spectacular for me three hundred it is." Balbeck says to Viorel. "Most of that money would go to bribes, I think it's perfectly reasonable price for people of your stature. Take it or leave it."

"You seem to be under the impression that I am destitute. Hah! While I enjoy a free drink, I am in the business of buying and selling information. You will pay me 300 gold and I will bestir myself to see if my contacts can find a copy of the blueprints with the mason's guild in Kenabres. Deal?"

"Not that I know of. I mean a company of Nail knights came through here a while back, but they were defeated by some kind of undead from what I heard. I might be able to turn up a floorplan or something if you give me a few days and make it worth my while."

He smiles and sips down the bit she gave him, smacking his lips. "Mmm. Tasty. Well lets see, the Fort of the Nail." He pulls a map out of a leather case that was set on the chair next to him. "It's here." He says, pointing to the Fort's location. Already marked with a red dot on your Travel Map. "It was built during the early decades of the 47th century AR, just after the first crusade. During the second crusade it was lost and hasn't been retaken since. The Order had in mind what they always do, namely 'civilizing' the 'savage' Sarkoran natives. Now, if you please?" He says holding out the mug for more wine.

The bearded old man is snoring when Rosa addresses him. He stutters awake "Huh, wha? Free drinks?" He looks around, and sees his flagon is empty. "Put your money where your mouth is. Then I'll have a think." He says, staring up at Rosa's giant form.

"Huh!? Wha!?" Morann says, sputtering awake and nearly falling out of his chair. "Oh...history. Well, alls I can tell ye is that over a hunnerd years ago there were Sarkorian towns and forts at those red spots." he says, pointing to the map on the wall. "Damn Wound's got the land like putty though, who knows what horrible hells they've been molded into since then." He pauses to scratch at his beard. "I have heard that Iz is under the rulership of a Balor named Khorramzadeh, and that's there's a ruthless Marilith ruling out Drezen called Zuhra Aponavicius. I would steer clear of anywhere near them until you've got some serious power under your belt." He takes a long drag from his mug, "You could also call the gold I'd pay for relics from Sarkoris significant." He stares at Jin drunkenly, his eye twitching.

Moraan has slipped back into a drunken sleep, his head nodding down and up continually as his unconscious mind fights to keep him in his chair.

You all notice Sir Brensen go over to a table where an old white haired man is dozing drunkenly, his hand still tightly fastened to the handle of his mug. He's wearing plain undyed linen robes, his hair and beard are unkempt. Brensen shakes him gently by the shoulder and then leans down to whisper something to him, before pointing over in the direction of the table full of new crusaders. The old man nods, wipes the drool from his mouth and hurriedly finger combs his hair and beard into some manner of order.

Standing, he's surprisingly tall and thin. His robes hang off him like clothes on a drying rack as he makes his way over. "Greetings! I am Balbeck Morann, historian and sage of the Worldwound. My friend Brensen tells me you'll be heading into the wastes soon." he pauses to sip from his mug. "If you make it as far as any of the old villages or towns, keep your eyes peeled. I'll pay handsomely for any information or artifacts dating to the time before the Worldwound. Anything at all that might tell me something about who lived there and how will do. I've put a map up on the bulletin board over there." he says pointing across the room. "It has the locations of all the old settlements I know about marked on it." He sort of stares blankly for a moment before snapping back to reality and says, "Well, good luck!" Before making his way over to the nearest table to plop back down and finish off his drink.