In an inn just outside of the Hold of Belkzen, you speak to the aged dwarf as he throws back another large tankard of ale. Rock Stonecrusher was a battle-scarred dwarf who had seen his share of combat over the years. Rumor had it was getting a party of dwarves together to head to Trunau. His ambitious plan called for a group of dwarves to jump into a town full of half orcs and humans--what could wrong there? As you are ushered to his table in the inn, he is speaking to a few dwarves that came earlier and waves you over.
"I was just finishing up my story!!"
"Aye, the giants slaughtered as many dwarves as they could that day. I blame the Chelaxians, for they surely put the giants up to it, but I could just as easily blame dwarven pride and arrogance. Wrapped up in the power struggles of human nations, we dwarves found out that we were the manipulated and not the ones doing the manipulating."
He laughs as he remembers something funny: "King Noscan thought he was honeydicking the humans, but in the end, it was King Noscan who was honeydicked. And more dwarven blood was spilled in two weeks than I have drank in ale over my lifetime."
He gets a sober look and stares at around the table, eventually fixing you with a firm gaze as his pupils seem to darken. "I will take you to Trunau in Belkzen where you may get into trouble, but it will be a good kind of trouble."
The dwarf continues his history lesson:
"So I hail from the Menador Mountains in Avistan. My clan, The Mountainblood Clan, became ambitious, and rather than be withdrawn and reclusive, they traded with the government of Molthune and became wealthy and powerful. Although many of the clan advised against becoming too tight with the Lords of Molthune, King Noscan became tempted by promises of wealth and glory. He made the mistake of running afoul of powerful foes in Cheliax in his entangling alliance."
He spits on the floor and holds a symbol of Torag tightly as he continues:
"The diabolical Chelaxians sent a pair of rune giants upon the Mountainblood Clan. The wholesale slaughter of the clan took less than three days, and I was the only survivor."
He adds: "A clanless, penniless dwarf, I sought refuge in the court of Molthune. Without prospects, the Lords of Molthune sent me away without acknowledging any culpability in the massacre of my people. It has taken some time, but I have called for those I have seen Torag point out to me in my dreams. That would be you!!"
"A tide of giants is coming!! I need to pull a new clan together with a new purpose. We will remember those who give us succor and those who seek to thwart us!! I seek those to join the Ninth Battalion, and if proven worthy, can visit Earth Axle and behold its glory."
He looks at each of you in turn. "What do you have to offer? I don't need craftsdwarves, they will come later."
Harnar was momentarily saddened by the older dwarf's story. "Sorry for your loss. I had a similar experience but more of my village survived and put an end to the giant-kin. Alas some of us decided to wander a bit to see how best to use our talents."
He lovingly patted his warhammer as he spoke.
His sadness soon gave way to ire, "What can I offer?! I offer my hammer and my blood, I'll gladly give it to put an end to the giant blight."
He came down some and added, "And the stones and rocks. I sing to them and they come to my bidding... to destroy. I offer the destructive power of an avalanche!"
"But the question is what can you offer? Do you have any more information on this giant tide? What about orcs? Can we kill orcs as well?"
Crom finishes sharpening his axe with his whetstone as Rock tells his tale. "Aye, I'll travel to Trunau for you, Rock Stonecrusher. If trouble is killing goblins and orcs, then trouble is what I seek. If trouble is killing giants, then trouble is definitely what I seek. All I can offer you is the promise of cold steel fury at the edge of this fine double bladed war axe. All I ask in return is all the gold I can carry back and ever-lasting glory. We got a deal?"
He turns to the bar maid, "More ale, wench!"
"I can offer my skills in the wild, tracking and searching, my hammers and my hatred of Giants!" Dolgrym slams the base of his longhammer on the ground as he finishes up.
In contrast to the somber attitudes of the dwarfs, the gnome at the table is rather cheerful and upbeat. His graying moustache is waxed and his beard kept neat. He says, "I lived many a year in Lastwall, and I know all too well the pressures of sieges and outside enemy forces. My people have long been friends to dwarf-kind, and I am at your service."
Glorik was watching the rest as they spoke. He kept a watchful eye on his surroundings, and waited to speak until a lull in the conversation.
"My clan is another victim of giants; the cursed beasts. I have many and myriad skills. The thing I can offer best to you is my trapmaking skills. I don't know a dwarf better at breaking traps either. Additionally, I know a little about magic, though I'm not a mage myself. I kin be sneaky, an' when it calls for it, deadly. Those gigantic oxen-brained fools don't know what..."
He paused for a moment, his voice trailing off. He was getting worked up, and visibly calmed himself. After a breath, he continued.
"My maces and I are available to help in this endeavor."
As Rock discovers with further questions that some of you are natives, he nods approvingly. He returns after some deliberation with his list. As he reads off you name, he looks at you and shakes your hand. "Welcome to my crew. Don't screw up!!"
As the others leave with disappointment, he looks at Harnar: "I got chunks of tougher dwarves than you in my stool. I offer the ability to whip any or all of you if you step out of line or ruin my legacy."
Rock nods and says: "It is now time to follow your path. We will leave for Trunau at first light. I have booked rooms for you in the inn, you will be double billeted."
You leave the next morning for Trunau, and upon arriving closer to evening, find the town is all gathered together.
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.
“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.
Halgra nods to his daughter. "Time to pick your team for the feats of strength." Ruby indicates the new arrivals, five dwarves and a gnome. The young woman is motioning you to join her in a game of tug of war with eight burly men in the militia, two of them quite large.
The gnome points at himself and silently mouths, "Me?" His brow furrows, and it's obvious why -- smaller than any dwarf or human, he has no great mass or strength to contribute to such a contest, but he hurries nonetheless to join the group for the tug-of-war.
Dolgrym bows to Ruby, "It will be my honor. I am humble at your request." He then walks toward the rope and takes the first spot.
Crom squints his blood shot eyes at Halgra, "Hope knife, eh? Well, I prefer battle axes or war hammers against orcs myself, but suit yourself."
Crom shrugs and moves to the anchor spot at the end of the rope.
Glorik looks surprised at the group's selection.
'Then again, perhaps this will be a good test for our teamwork?'
He follows Crom, and takes the spot just in front of Crom. He checks his shoes, then wipes the mud off.
He waves to a few people in the crowd, longtime friends, and braces himself on the rope, ready to pull.
Harnar breathed deeply and looked sheepishly about. A test of strength was definitely not his strong suit but he flexed his arms nonetheless.
The young dwarf combed back his red mohawk and spit on his calloused hands. He then clapped vigorously and strutted to take his place on the line.
"C'mon, let's show these tall folks how we dwarves dig in!"
The dwarves get in line, and prepare to show how things are done. The opponents are hardy townsfolk, and are able to get a jump on Ruby's team, pulling as soon as the signal is given. Unused to the quick contest, the dwarves are pulled back and first and try to avoid quickly losing ground.
Harnar grunted as the tall ones got the jump on them and almost pulled them down. But sturdy dwarven legs dug into the ground and muscles strained.
"Woah there lads! Show these people how dwarfs dig in!"
Crom yawns, "This would be more interesting while drinking ale."
Glorik cheers!
"We kin do this lads! Hold fast!"
Str 1
Str 2
Str 3
The gnome comically reaches up over his head to try to hang on to the rope. "Whoa, this is already getting a little nuts!"
The dwarves begin behind, but Crom's might pulls quickly halt the gains of the other team. He quickly pulls and his strength begins to show results. As his muscles bulge, Crom begins to slowly pull the humans over the line. As Ruby and the dwarves win, the town begins to cheer and good natured celebration ensues. Full flasks of ale are brought to the winner, and Ruby grins from ear to ear.
Kurst and Rodrik Grath, the two burliest and popular men, settle down to have a round of drinks with the dwarves. They seem to be sharing a secret as they mention: "It is almost unfair, with your lower frames, it must make it quite easy to pull us off our feet. Well done!!"
Ruby is proud of her performance, and thanks you all for helping her shine in her moment. Chief Defender Halgra gives you all a hearty handshake, and welcomes you to town. After a quick conversation, Rock mentions he has secured lodging at Cham Larringfass' Inn, the Rumblehouse.
As you talk to Rodrik, you find out he is quite important, and a few town ladies have him autograph a copy of some play that appears to be a love story. He is not your typical guardsman.
“The hopeknife is more than a weapon—it’s a
symbol. To Trunauans, earning your hopeknife is
a mark of your place in the community. When you
earn your hopeknife, it means you are wise enough
to make adult decisions, old enough to know what
it means to fear, and strong enough to protect your
neighbors, even if it costs you your own life.”
“Even though she’s the Chief Defender’s daughter,
Ruby has to pledge to uphold the Standing Vow in
order to receive her hopeknife, just like the rest
of us. She must agree to hold Trunau against all
comers and to never forfeit her homeland willingly.
That is the Vow.”
“Rumor has it that Rodrik Grath is next in line for
the position of patrol leader after his old man Jagrin
retires. Jagrin’s a good commander, but he’s getting
old, and it might be time for some new blood in the
militia’s leadership.”
“Shame about the graffiti all over town. The militia’s
got better things to do than clean up youngsters’
messes, but even stranger is how long it lasts. Try
as one might, soap and water don’t do a thing to
those marks.”
“Have you read Rodrik Grath’s latest work, ‘The
Other Side of Contempt’? He’s our own home-grown
writer. It’s a controversial poem, but that’s what
makes Rodrik’s writing so strong—he’s not afraid to
push limits.”
“Rodrik Grath is slated to replace his father as patrol
leader, but from what I hear, he’s more concerned
with his poems and plays than with militia matters.
He’s diligent, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not quite
sure either of the Grath boys is ready to lead the
town’s defense.”
"Well done, my laddies. I think we showed 'em what we can do. I got rooms at Cham's, a local inn that caters mostly to those who visit town. Cham and I go way back."
Rock and Kurst seem to also know each other, and have some words that are not too difficult to overhear.
Harnar congratulated his companions on a war well won, even if it was a tug-of-war.
Harnar respected the 'hope knife' and the vow it carried. It was good that kids learned about the harsh realities of their world at an early age.
Not wanting to overhear the conversation, he still caught words of what Rock and Kurst were discussing. And he liked it. Nothing cheered up Harnar more than the thought of stuffing rocks down an orc's throat.
He asked, "Anyone hear anything about the local orc tribes recently? Apparently they are on the move."
He turned to his companions, "C'mon, I hear there is decent ale at Cham's."
"Well done brothers!" He then walks over to the humans and shakes hands, "Good try! We upheld Ruby's honor against worthy opponents."
He then goes and bows to Ruby, "You honored us by choosing us to represent you. May we honor you by escorting you somewhere?"
"That was a terrific match, boyos! Well done, well done."
He follows Dolgrym over to shake hands with the humans, congratulating them on a great match of strength.
Turning to Harnar, he continued.
"Aye, let's go to Cham's. Not a bad place to relax, to be true."
Crom congratulates the team, "Well done lads. The first round is on me at Cham's"
Crom growls at Harnar,"No surprise. This town is in the middle of stinking orc country. But having more green bloods to kill suits me fine."
The humans seem perplexed at Harnar's comments and Rodrik states: "We have found the orcs to be uncharacteristically quiet."
As the group adjourns to Cham's, they meet the pleasant Halfling with a ready smile and a hug for Rock.
"You have the run of the place. My common room, is of course, open for you to tap the keg any time you need to. As always, your money and cheer are welcome here."
As you drink from the fine ale at the Ramblinghouse--the quaint name for Cham's inn, you find that she is running an establishment for those who feel not quite at home with the Trunau community.
The next morning, you awake to find the inn a buzz of activity. It appears Rodrik, the guardsman from last night, was found with his wrists slashed and his hopeknife in his hand by your host, Cham Larringfass!! You find Rock conferring with his friend Kurst, who wants Rock to look into the suicide of his brother. Kurst says: "I cannot believe my brother committed suicide. I am hoping you can look into his death and find out what really happened!!" Rock turns to your group and looks quite determined. "Laddies, I guess it is time to put you on an investigation while I scout around with Kurst here. Be careful not to make the patrol nervous, but after our great showing with Ruby, we have some goodwill around town. Be careful not to spend it too quickly."
The humans seem perplexed at Harnar's comments and Rodrik states: "We have found the orcs to be uncharacteristically quiet."
As the group adjourns to Cham's, they meet the pleasant Halfling with a ready smile and a hug for Rock. She states with enthusiasm:
"You have the run of the place. My common room, is of course, open for you to tap the keg any time you need to. As always, your money and cheer are welcome here."
As you drink from the fine ale at the Ramblinghouse--the quaint name for Cham's inn, you find that she is running an establishment for those who feel not quite at home with the Trunau community. You adjourn after a few hours of drinking in the common room to pleasant double rooms in the inn for the night, each with twin beds and a desk.
The next morning, you awake to find the inn a buzz of activity. It appears Rodrik, the guardsman from last night, was found with his wrists slashed and his hopeknife in his hand by your host, Cham Larringfass!! You find Rock conferring with his friend Kurst, who wants Rock to look into the suicide of his brother. Kurst says: "I cannot believe my brother committed suicide. I am hoping you can look into his death and find out what really happened!!" Rock turns to your group and looks quite determined. "Laddies, I guess it is time to put you on an investigation while I scout around with Kurst here. Be careful not to make the patrol nervous, but after our great showing with Ruby, we have some goodwill around town. Be careful not to spend it too quickly."
Kurst and Rock look ready to leave you to your own devices. Kurst asks you: "Any questions before Rock and I head out?"
"That's... very unusual. Can we take a look at where this all happened?" asks the gnome, looking quite serious.
Kurst and Rock look ready to leave you to your own devices. Kurst asks you: "Any questions before Rock and I head out?"
Harnar looks at Kurst for answers, "Why don't you think this was a suicide? Did your brother have any financial or other type of trouble like a lover's quarrel?"
He paused for a moment, ran a hand through his red mane, and continued, "Can you point us to your brother's house and can we look inside? Maybe he left a suicide note or something."
Glorik looks concerned.
"Aye, let's examine the place a bit, and fin' out what we can about this poor lad. Examination will uncover the truth, of that I have no doubt."
He stroked his beard absent-mindedly, obviously already deep in thought.
Tamxander twists his moustache idly between the fingers of one hand and addresses Harnar and Glorik, saying, "Please correct me if I'm mistaken, but the hopeknife is supposed to be used only to prevent capture by orcs and giants and such, isn't it? It doesn't fit for a defender of the town to commit suicide by hopeknife in other circumstances, so it's already suspicious."
Tamxander twists his moustache idly between the fingers of one hand and addresses Harnar and Glorik, saying, "Please correct me if I'm mistaken, but the hopeknife is supposed to be used only to prevent capture by orcs and giants and such, isn't it? It doesn't fit for a defender of the town to commit suicide by hopeknife in other circumstances, so it's already suspicious."
Harnar shrugs, "I don't know for certain, lad, but I think you're right. Maybe we can take a look at the blade to make sure this was indeed a suicide and not an assassination."
"Oh, right you are, Master Glenfarrow. That alone warrents investigation. Let us examine the knife thoroughly, in hopes we find something that can aid us in this investigation."
Glorik's intelligent eyes look thoughtful.
Crom nods at the other's helpful suggestions. "Karst, the more you can tell us about your brother, the better we can figure out what happened. Did he have any enemies?"
He then turns to Cham, "Did he have any visitors for the evening? Did you see or hear anything suspicious? We'll need to take a look at the room."
Kurst responds to the question of murder versus suicide:
"I know my brother, and I know he wouldn’t kill himself. By his
own account, he was in love with Brinya and was planning
to marry her, even if our father disapproved. There’s
something fishy about all of this, and I won’t dishonor
Rodrik’s memory by accepting his ‘suicide’ without ruling
out that something else happened.”
"Let's look at his room." say Rock.
Kurst has Cham open his room, which is much like the others....
This sparse room contains only a single cot and a writing desk.
The cot is a cheap affair with a straw-stuffed mattress, now
stained red with blood and stripped of its linens, while the desk
is a slightly nicer piece of furniture that has nonetheless been
chipped and worn by time. A cracked window in the southern
wall is the only exit other than the room’s door.
Cham indicates that nothing out of the ordinary happened after Rodrik checked in. "It was quiet night like any other. I went to check on him in the morning, and found him dead."
The hopeknife, like any other hopeknife, is a finely made blade with a small maker's mark.
Harnar carefully went through the room trying to find anything that may help solve the mystery.
He turned to his companions, "Unless any of you find something unusual, I think we ought to talk to Brynia to see what she knows."
He asked Kurst, "Where's your father and can we talk to him? Was he perhaps putting too much pressure on your brother?"
And one Perception in case we missed something:
"In case you all didn't know,"Glorik turned to his new companions,"Brinya is a half-orc, and isn't well-liked by most of Rodrik's family. In fact, it's said she is the inspiration for one of my personal favorite works of Rodrik's. It explored interracial love, and was a truly amazing read.
He turned to Kurst.
"Truly, ye have my apologies for your loss. Your brother was a skilled man, a fine author, and a moral gentleman. I respected him greatly. I mean no disrespect with my observations; just givin' me boys the facts."
His eyes lit up.
"Oh! I believe the hopeknife in question twas made by Sara. A fine lass, well-respected. Another half-orc lass, in fact..."
Crom will help Glorik and Harnar search the room.
He then joins Glorik's conversation with Kurst. "Why was your brother renting this room? Does he have a house or other domicile in town?"
Crom nods at Glorik, "Let's go talk to this Brinya."
"Meaning no disrespect," Tamxander pipes up, "but if anyone here is skilled in the healing arts, it may be useful to see if the wound is actually what caused death, and if it's actually consistent with the weapon. I mean, if there was foul play, it's easy enough to inflict such a wound after you have... disposed of someone."
An exhaustive search of the desk and window discover a secret compartment in the desk. Opening the compartment, nothing is found. Cham informs you that many of her desks have a secret compartment in the main drawer.
Between the bed and wall, Glorik finds a receipt from Morninghawk's Fine Steel for one (1) hopeknife with an engraving to read 'From Rodrik my Love'.
Proceeding to interview Brinya, the half orc is red-headed and definitely with some orcish features. You head to the boarding house (Area D on the big map) to interview the distraught fiancé.
Brinya fills you in the details of her relationship with
Rodrik. The couple had been seeing each other for
months, and Rodrik finally proposed to her using his
mother’s ring. Even once they were engaged, Rodrik was
careful to keep the relationship hidden from his father,
who wouldn’t approve of the match.
Brinya adds: "I grudgingly respected Rodrick's wishes
for privacy. Rodrik soon became
preoccupied with some sort of investigation, what he
called 'his greatest work'—the details of which he
refused to share with me. Then Rodrik’s father, Jagrin, disowned
Rodrick when he found out about us."
Dolgrym takes the hopeknife and shows it to Brinya, "Is this Rodrik's hopeknife?"
Harnar looked about as the red-headed half-orc answered their questions.
He tried not to look too suspicious but his blood told him that orc 9and half-orcs) were bad news.
Glorik continues to survey the room.
As he searched, he turned toward Brinya, and asked "Of course, you still have the engagement ring, yes? That isn't missing, by chance..."
Crom scowls at the half orc, "So, where were you last night when Rodrick was killed?"
Brinya shows that the hopeknife she wears around her neck is Rodrik's.
"This hopeknife was Rodrik's. He gave it to me, and was going to have another made for me. And I do have my engagement ring."
Brinya reveals her engagement ring, an obviously expensive one. Then Crom asks her about her whereabouts with suspicion, and the conversation goes south. "I am a suspect now? I hoped you dwarves were different than Rodrik's family, but I see I am wrong. This discussion is over. If you need to talk to me, send me a message through Kurst. He was always respectful."
Brinya wipes away tears and gets up. She leaves and is obviously offended.
Crom regards the half-orc without emotion. "You won't answer the question, eh? Well maybe you are a suspect then."
He turns to the others, "We better talk to Rodrick's family."
Brinya reveals her engagement ring, an obviously expensive one. Then Crom asks her about her whereabouts with suspicion, and the conversation goes south. "I am a suspect now? I hoped you dwarves were different than Rodrik's family, but I see I am wrong. This discussion is over. If you need to talk to me, send me a message through Kurst. He was always respectful."
Harnar has little patience for this sort of nonsense, "Now listen here, missy. Your fiance may have been murdered and we were asked to help. So don't get mad at a few questions. There's more at stake here than your wounded pride."
He turned to Kurst, "That ring did indeed look expensive. Just how much money did your brother make?"
Brinya refuses to answer any more questions as she departs.
Crom shrugs, "She must have a problem with dwarves. Maybe you should do the talking next time Tamxander."
Crom walks outside. "Let's explore the town and get the lay of the land."
"Sure, I'll give it a try," Tamxander says cheerily.