Gado Folklo's page

Let’s check in at the beginning…

The room is dark, and the smoke from the burning incense drifts lazily up to the ceiling, highlighted by the flickering of the candle hanging from a sconce on the wall. A figure sits in a simple wooden chair, tucked up to a desk, staring at a flattened piece of parchment. The writing on the parchment is sloppy, and barely visible under the dim light of the candle.

"...been chosen for this daring expedition. Compensation is as previously discussed. Get your affairs in order, correspondence will follow with timing and directions to meet the other members of the team. Do not dissapoi..."

The parchment is crumpled quickly, followed by a fist slamming the table.

Do I really have a choice?

A scrawny man walks out of a building into a sunlit, dirty street. He takes a deep breath, as if breathing in the sunshine, and promptly sneezes absurdly loud, doubling over from the suddeness of the violent action.

He wipes his watering eyes and nose on the inside of his tunic and turns to the stable attached to the building he just exited. A small boy offers the end of a rope from inside the shadow of the building, to which the man nods curtly, without offering a word.

Clucking his tounge twice, he turns to walk down the street. After a few steps, the rope pulls taught, jerking the man backwards as though he expected whatever was on the other end of the rope to move with him.

Annoyed, he turns back around, and clucks his tounge again. When nothing happens, he snaps the rope, clucking again, paying no attention to the snickers around him. Finally a brown colored mule saunters from the shadows on the other end of the rope. With a satisfied huff, the man resumes his walk with the mule at his side.

Neatly packed and arranged on the back of the mule are several full bags, a bedroll, tent, and a whole array of scroll cases that dangle down beside the beast as they walk. The man looks forlornly at his nearly empty belt pouch for a moment, but dismisses it just as quickly and continues his stroll.

Stubborn animal. Hopefully there is some civilization where we are going. Though I should get a proper spell to carry my belongings wherever I travel. This mule will have to do for now.

A black raven circles out of the sky, diving towards the frail man pulling the stubborn donkey, pulling up with a flap of his wings to land on the man's head. The weight tilts the foppish hat he wears enough to knock it off kilter, forcing the raven to hop from the precarious perch onto the man's shoulder.

"**Caaaw** Arth wyneb yn syth ymlaen ! Mae'n chwilio am rywun ..." A shrill caw comes from the beak of the raven, followed by an odd flow of sounds that one wouldn't expect to hear come from a bird, or any animal for that matter.

Draconic: "bear face straight ahead! He's looking for someone..."

"Alright! I get it. You don't like my hat." the man says, tossing the fop hat into a nearby gutter.

With a grimace, he tugs on the rope to turn down a side street, hoping the mule will follow, looking over his shoulder to make sure "bear-face" hasn't noticed him yet.

Pulling the stubborn mule down the side alley, Gado happens to come close enough to the square to hear the herald make his announcement. He chuckles at the sight of the seagull, but is quickly lost in the implications of the news.

An Exhibit? This is more than I have been told so far. If I can get this mule back home anytime soon I must go... What treasures could be there to chronicle and study? Oh... yes... I suppose that is why I am going on the next expedition... I'll be sure to put the five silver on my expense report.

” Ynys torri i ffwrdd oddi wrth y byd am ganrifoedd . Mae'n ddiddorol , onid yw Koney ? Hyd yn oed os ydym yn cael eu gorfodi gan ein cysuron yn erbyn ein hewyllys . Efallai y byddant wedi esblygu y tu hwnt i ni , dilyffethair o squabblings gwleidyddol a rhyfeloedd gludiog . Allech chi ddychmygu yr hyn y gallai cymdeithas gyflawni heb y toriad o anhrefn a gwrthdaro ? Tybed beth darganfyddiadau hudol y gallent ei wneud . A ydynt yn torri i ffwrdd hyd yn oed o'r awyrennau ? Neu dim ond y gweddill ein byd ?” *

The frail man continues his trek down the streets, losing himself in thought as he speaks to what seems like no one around him. In his self made distraction, he fails to notice the pace of the mule picking up, and he no longer is straining to drag the beast behind him.

Draconic: "An island cut off from the world for centuries. It is intriguing, is it not Koney? Even if we are being forced from our comforts against our will. Perhaps they will have evolved beyond us, unfettered from political squabblings and viscous wars. Could you imagine what a society could accomplish without the interruption of chaos and conflict? I wonder what magical discoveries they could make. Are they cut off even from the planes? Or just the rest of our world?“

”Yr wyf yn meddwl ein bod dwlu am hyn?“ The crow caws from his new perch on the head of the mule

Draconic: ”I thought we were mad about this?“

” Rydym yn dal yn cael eu. Byddaf yn dod o hyd i ffordd i ad-dalu'r ffafr i hen wyneb arth da. Dyw hi ddim yn hoffi gennym lawer o ddewis . Ond o leiaf bydd rhywbeth diddorol pan fyddwn yn cyrraedd yno.”

Draconic: ” We still are. I will find a way to repay the favor to good old bear face. It's not like we have much choice. But at least there will be something interesting when we get there. “

A begger looks up from his rags as the odd procession passes him, face screwed up in confusion as the man and raven non-chalantly continue their conversation in the flowing, archaic language.

No, that doesn’t help. Perhaps we should be going back even further…

An eerie hush falls instantly over a once raucous bar room. All eyes have turned to a hairy hulk of a man who stands next to an overturned table. Those people who are alive and near him cower in fear, shrinking away from him. On the wall, about ten feet in front of him, hundreds of red lines streak down the wall marking the pull of gravity on the globules of blood that have spattered on it. The hush holds over the crowd of nearly 100 patrons and barmaids alike for seconds that feel like hours, no one daring to move, or say anything for that matter.

Another man, greasy haired and decidedly less bulky slides slowly to the floor off of the end of the longsword still grasped by the first man. The thud as his lifeless body hits the ground seems to echo in the uncomfortably silent room.

”The next one who calls me bear face gets the same thing. But I do it slower, and with a spoon.” growls the hairy man as he spits on the corpse. Eyebrows that have seemed to morph into his hairline, and a wild beard that would make a dwarf jealous appear almost like a muzzle when the man speaks. The massive, flat nose completes the look that coined the apparently un-popular nickname. With a sneer he steps over the body, rolls the table to the side, and scoops the bloody pile of silver and gold coins that once graced the center. His prize in hand, he pulls a card from inside his sleeve with an all-to-familiar spade shape on one side, and stuffs it in the dead man’s mouth.

”And don’t call me no F&%#in cheater neither!”

No one dares point out the obvious.

With a glare he walks out of the taproom, slamming the door open and shut as he walks out into the darkened street.

Heh. The legend grows. he smirks to himself after putting a few blocks between himself and the Jester’s Drinking Buddy. Now what else did I have to do tonight? He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket. On it are scrawled three words. Gado. Arcane Library

Oh yea. I can’t wait to collect from this weasel.

Bear face chuckles as he makes a turn down a Magnimar alleyway, a sudden spring in his step as he begins to fantasize about how easy it will be to break the knees of the little academic.

…

”I can pay, I can pay! I just need another week!” cries a frail looking man with a foppish hat severely off kilter on his head as he scrambles backwards, knocking over chairs and tripping in the process, landing unceremoniously on his rump. Legs and arms flail as he attempts to scramble backwards and put more distance between himself and the giant, hairy man, who appears to have no respect for the quiet sanctity of a library.

”Hahaha!” the large man erupts into a full on belly laugh, throwing his head back as he does. ”What makes you think boss wants money now? You coming with me. Don’t you try none of that magiky s%& or I gut you right here. Maybe now you learn not to borrow money from people like boss without a plan to pay them back. Don’t you know? Pay back on time, they like you and take care of you. Don’t pay back? I like you and take care of you.” A perfectly evil smile spreads across the hairy man’s face, clearly indicating that his version of “taking care” and “like” does not fit the generally accepted definition.

”Caw!” The shrill call of a raven again pierces the silence of the library rooms. The bird sits in an open window, silhouetted by a bright, starlit sky.

”That your birdy pet? Maybe boss let me eat him to teach you a lesson.” the hairy man continues to chuckle, mocking the physically helpless man on the floor. ”Get up. Follow me.”

A brief moment passes while the frail man contemplates the sweet release of death by jumping out of the window before he finally stands up.

I couldn’t crawl up that high anyways. he thinks forlornly, staring up at the window several feet out of his reach. probably couldn’t even pull the table over to the wall to get close enough…

With a resigned sigh he waves the raven off into the night sky, hoping the stubborn creature listens as he could not bear the thought of his friend becoming lunch for the raving madman. He follows along, internally trying to convince himself that days of torture followed by a knife to the throat might not really be that bad.

…

After what felt like hours of walking, but in reality was only a few minutes, the diametrically opposed men walk into a ramshackle hut. The large man snags a rat from a shabby looking pit which appears to have been a fire pit for cooking. Squealing its displeasure, the rat is promptly tossed against a nearby wall where it falls dead to the dirt floor. Unphased, the hairy man hefts an oversized brick, which produces a dull thud from the earth beneath the men just before a secret trap door in the floor swings open on unseen hinges.

”Down.” is all the large man offers, and the frail man is smart enough to take the hint. Leaving the filth of the hut, the two men enter a well-lit, extravagantly decorated underground room, with gold filigree decorating every square inch of the walls of the expansive space. Lush silk pillows and drapes are abundant throughout the room, nearly every one graced with a scantily clad, tantalizingly beautiful woman. The low din of conversation continues unabated as the two walk through the haze of smoke that drifts from the pipes and hookas scattered throughout this den of hedonism.

”Welcome, Gado. So glad you could join me in my home finally.” a smooth, charming and intoxicating voice comes from a figure seated at the far end of the room. The figure stands and walks forward into the light, revealing a freckled faced red headed woman, clad in thick but tight leathers. Blades of every sort are strapped to every part of the custom made black leather armor she wears. ”Thank you for bringing him here Pote. You can be dismissed.” she says with a purr. With that, the giant, hairy man smiles and walks back out of the room.

”*Ahem* Where… is my cut?” the sweet voice of the red-head sings just before Pote walks out the door.

With a grunt, he pulls a pouch off his belt and tosses it across the room. The string comes undone just enough for a handful of bloody coins to spill out on the floor.

”Ohhh… Very nice. Take your pick!” she says with gleam in her eye.

With another grunt that sounds more like a laugh, he points at one of the women on the pillows who promptly gets up and follows him into another room.

Turning back to Gado, the alluring red head smiles. ”Well my dear, precious Gado, it seems we have a small problem. My investment has not turned a profit. I don’t like it when my investments fail to turn a profit, and so I am a very unhappy woman. Just what do you think a girl like me is supposed to do when she places faith in a boy like you, and he lets her down?” her bottom lip sticks out and quivers in a mocking pout.

”I… uh. I can still pay. It’s going to work, I just need a little more time. Mi’lady. I’m sorry.” Gado’s knees tremble and his voice shakes, though he isn’t sure if it is from the overpowering seductive allure of the woman, or the fear of inevitable death by torture.

”Oh sweetie, see, I don’t have any more time to wait, and so you don’t have any more time to pay. I’ve got bigger things to invest in.” Her eyes light up, playfully accenting the word ‘bigger’. ”I’m reinvesting you to a new business venture I have found. It looks like I am going to own that big brain of yours for a bit longer. You should receive word soon. I suggest you go wherever they tell you. The alternative is… well…” Approaching the skinny man as she speaks, she presses her body against his, biting on his ear as she whispers, ”Just don’t say no, nobody tells Lanvi, high priestess of Calistra, no. Say yes. Didn’t Pote tell you I would take care of you if I liked you? Well I think I like you…”

Shackled by his debt to the infamous loan shark and crime syndicate queen known as Lanvi, Gado is forced to join an expedition to the fabled “Isle of Dread”. Though he loaths the idea of parting from his library and studies in Mangnimar, Gado figures that his extensive background in the study of the planes and extra-planar beings, as well as a deep study of the arcane mysteries is what directed him to this fate, instead of a much more sinister and painfully direct one.

His childhood environment was normal, at least for a privileged child of the upper class. Enthralled by books and learning from the moment he could read, Gado dove into the fascinating world of the arcane. Eventually this study lead him to the mysteries of other planes. He was a natural at picking up languages, having an uncanny knack at gleaning meaning and understanding from text even if he didn’t understand the language it was written in. The crossing of his obsessions with the planes and his natural talent resulted in one of the area’s foremost experts in planar languages, and the summoning of extra-planar creatures.

Spending the majority of his time at the library and local university, he taught and studied, but mostly studied different ways of summoning and controlling creatures from the other planes. After a decade or more, Gado came across a text that led him to believe there was a yet undiscovered connection between every plane of existence, one that could be traveled by those with the proper knowledge as easily as walking down a hall and opening a doorway without a massive expense of magical energy.

Not having the money to fund the necessary research, he went to everyone he could find, begging for the chance to dig into this discovery. After being rebuked at every turn, he was despondent and ready to give up until a lithe, enchanting red-headed woman found him in an alley one day, and offered to loan him some money. Gado leapt at the opportunity, not questioning the source after having been told no so many times.

Months of failure after failure lead to this most recent turn of events. He continues to struggle with his acceptance of this change, though he realizes he doesn’t have much of a choice. Especially with the convincing way in which he was asked…