You are all gathered in the Tavern sitting around the table when you hear a commotion at the bar. It appears that a young redheaded woman dressed in the cloak of a cleric has come in and is very excitedly talking to patrons.
Knowledge Religion roll
Aluar quickly turns his ride side away from the redheaded woman as his left eye scrutinizes her from head to toe. Grabbing his hat from the table he places it on his head tilted down over the right side of his face.
Aluar asks in a harsh tone, a bit of impatience in his words, "Where is he?"
Taltōsh stood and bowed slightly to the woman. "Yes, milady, we are."
Gryfford, who was scrutinizing the yet unnamed stranger with the broad-brimmed black grave diggers hat and overall dark countenance, turned his head to look at the red-headed young woman.
Is she pretty ? he strangely thought to himself.
At Aluar's harsh question he sharply turned his head back to him. How rude !
Then he answered the young woman: "Like Taltōsh just said, we are all looking for the paladin of Erastil. I am called Gryfford. Pleased to meet you. These gentlemen are Arasmes, Yolk and Adriel Mistleaf. Who are you ?"
She blushes slightly, and then launches into rapid speech, "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Master McDarrow is waiting for you back at the temple. He was out when you approached earlier, and I was uh...otherwise occupied." She seems very nervous and wrings her hands. "If you are still interested in his tale, he would be willing to meet with you." She continues to look around the table and when she notices Aluar she cringes a moment, but then looks away.
Taltōsh looked to the others. "I believe we are all still very interested. Please, lead us to Master McDarrow, milady."
Perhaps she is nervous when speaking with strangers. Yolk idly ponders. "Be at ease, we are all here interested in his tale, and that is why we gathered this day."
She is pretty thought Gryfford.
He stood up from his stool, took his falchion's scabbard which he had put leaning against the table and harnessed it swiftly on his back with practiced gestures, before picking up his backpack.
He then reached into his purse and quickly counted several pieces which he put down on the table.
"The beer and ale are on me, Arasmes. Let's go !"
Yolk also gets up from the table, ready to meet McDarrow.
Aluar heads for the door as he turns away from the woman and her startled glance at his face. He pulls it open as if to storm out but hesitates, leans against the door frame, and glances back at the table while holding out a hand invitingly.
"What are you all waitin for, an invitation?" He flashes a sharp grin, which only serves to make his scar and eye look more menacing, and slips out of the inn.
Gryfford laughs good-naturedly, as if sincerely amused by the audacity of the stranger.
He walks to the door, and follows the scarred man outside.
"I didn't quite catch your name." he says quietly.
Gryfford laughs good-naturedly, as if sincerely amused by the audacity of the stranger.
He walks to the door, and follows the scarred man outside.
"I didn't quite catch your name." he says quietly.
The man named Aluar says something in a strange language "હું તેને ક્યાં નથી પકડી હતી."
He smiles at you from beneath his hat, "Call me Jean White. What are you called?"
Coming out of the inn behind the two, he mentions, "Hey fellow, we have indeed been at the inn... awaiting response from McDarrow. If'n I'm not mistaken, her arrival at our table was the invitation we've been waiting for." Worriment flashed across Yolk's face wondering if the man with the hideous scar might be hard of hearing, perhaps he didn't hear the woman speak.
Speaking louder, Yolk says, "I am Yolk, from Janderhoff. But, who are you?"
Looking sadly at the hot, steaming food, Arasmes carefully counts out the right amount and leaves it on the table.
Turning to the flustered cleric with a smile...
"Yolk is right, young lady. We're all interested, and we will make speed. "
The man named Aluar says something in a strange language "હું તેને ક્યાં નથી પકડી હતી."
He smiles at you from beneath his hat, "Call me Jean White. What are you called?"
"Lach'hlu." says Gryfford in a rough sounding language.
And he smiles back at Aluar:"The ladies call me often."
Taltōsh watched as Gryfford and the one calling himself Jean White spoke to each other in incomprehensible tongues. "It is considered impolite to speak in a language that your companions--even new companions--do not understand."
Cringing at the dwarf's harsh volume, Aluar responds with "I have one eye dwarf, I am not deaf..." twisting a black gloved finger in his ear he continues, "and you can call me Jean."
Gryfford looks contrite.
"Sorry, Taltōsh. I was speaking the Orc tongue".
He turns to Aluar and says: "I couldn't begin to guess what language you just spoke, fellow."
"It was quite hideous, though" he adds, smiling to lessen the possible harshness of his words.
"Anyway, Jean, I am Gryfford, son of Marsus the Strong... sometimes called Gryfford the Unrelenting by those who've faced me in the arenas of Tymon..."
"Pleased to meet you." he concludes pleasantly.
Adriel places down his wine, his first ever ( he really didn't see the big deal)
Lead on, then
This lot were entirely to jovial for his current state of mind. He resolves to ask the dwarf later about 'getting drunk'. As far as he knew, that race was quite proficient at it.
She nods and starts to walk away and then realizes something, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry I forgot to introduce myself...I must remember what Master McDarrow says. My name is Alia, I am an apprentice cleric of our great god Erastil." She bows low and then turns and steps out of the tavern into the street.
It's not terribly far from where you are to the temple, and as you approach you see that it stands approximately two stories taller than the buildings around it. It is decorated with great marble columns and a large Ironwork door on the front that is of exquisite craftsmanship. Standing on the steps is a rather impressive dwarf with a thick brown beard. He is standing tall(or as tall as a dwarf can) and his armor gleams white with holy symbols on it. From his waist hangs a large warhammer.
When he sees you he calls out, "Greetings travelers!"
"Hello! Master McDarrow, I presume?" calls Arasmes, striding forward, hand outstretched for a handshake
"I am Arasmes Kemnebi."
The man concealed under voluminous robes gave the dwarf a courteous bow. "And I am Taltōsh."
Beaming, Yolk bows deeply, "Greetings!"
Adriel says nothing, merely inclines his head at the dwarf, an expectant or perhaps irritated look on his face.
"You have things to tell us dwarf of Erastil? Stories of strange happenings? My fellow..." Aluar pauses a moment as he looks over the men in his company briefly and quickly carries on, "...companions and I have waited quite some time to hear what you have to say.
"Greetings. I am Gryfford." says Gryfford, nodding to acknowledge the dwarf in gleaming armor.
"Jean, please..." says Arasmes, embarrassment in his voice.
"But yes, Master McDarrow. What little daylight we have is passing, and we are all very interested to hear what you have to say."
Taltōsh nodded in agreement to Arasmes' statement. "Indeed, we are very interested. Shall we go inside?"
The dwarf smiles broadly and ushers you inside. " I am terribly sorry for the delay, to answer your questions I am Angus McDarrow. And I hear that you have come about the grave happenings as of late." He ushers you down a long hall of polished marble and turns into a small library. He moves books off f chaira around the room as he continues, " I am not sure how much you know, please inform me of the tales you've heard."
"Well, Master McDarrow, a local farmer--one Adrien Bellgrave--reported that a number of his farm animals have gone missing, leaving behind large amounts of blood scattered about his fields."
Shrugging, the man added, "Unfortunately, that's all I've heard."
Gryfford looks around him, perhaps curious of the latest tastes in dwarven clerical furniture, then speaks:
"In all honesty, I don't know much."
He frowns as he attempts to make himself clear.
"People in your pleasant little town seem to be worried about vampires and werewolves."
"I don't really know what a vampire is... but I recall that when I was young my nurse told me about unkempt, slavering and raging furry men-beasts cavorting and ravaging innocent maidens under the moon."
"I didn't really know what ravaging meant but I was quite taken by the stories."
"Anyway, the people are maybe starting to grow a bit restless. And you've gone to the sheriff with some informations, but he thinks you're full of it."
Gryfford hastens to add:
"For what it's worth, master Mac Darrow, you don't look to me like the kind of... dwarf to spin tall tales."
Gryfford's guts tell him the dwarf is to be trusted.
"Well Angus, I had heard that there were attacks happening in or around Sandpoint. I was also told that you tried to approach the mayor because you had reason to believe that these attacks were caused by werewolves and vampires, but that he dismissed you outright."
"In my studies at the temple I have come across readings of vampires and werewolves, that is why I did not shy away from the rumor and came seeking you."
"Yeah, the mayor - and not the sheriff, my mistake - didn't believe you. That's what I heard too."
have heard similar. Though to be honest I am here because my grove is overrun and without mother tend it, I have only my Fathers town to call home. I know the reputation Mother and I inadvertadly cultivated by living as recluses in thewoods. I will need to contibute to alleviate this places fear about me. Witches are not favored in most places. I would at least like to be tolerated so I needen't worry about a lynch mob.
Looking at Adriel, Yolk says, "Worry not Adriel, I have travelled from Janderhoff and have learned in my small time out in this world that good actions are preceeded by good people."
"In time if you prove yourself to be good, I will help you clear your namesake."
Ill repute can kill you in and out of the arena mused Gryfford.
No one could see Taltōsh's smile beneath his hood. "Among Varisians, witches are respected, yet feared for their powers. However, so are sorcerers--such as myself--for that matter."
So. Gryfford reflects as he glances at his companions.
We have an elf witch, a hooded sorcerer and a dwarf priest.
He looks quickly and discreetly up and down at the pale white-haired exotically dressed Arasmes. A mysterious hunter from a faraway land, and...
looking at Aluar... our own freakish and rude Jean White.
Gryfford chuckles suddenly: "I like it, Sharpest, I like it a lot."
As several people in the assembly look at him with some puzzlement at this unexpected statement, Gryfford clears his throat with some embarrasment. He then puts on a show of listening attentively to what Mac Darrow is about to say.
Angus takes a seat at the far end of the table and motions for you to sit down and join him.
He looks around at all of you and for a brief instant he looks afraid, but then he continues speaking. " Aye what ye say is true. There have been attacks in local fields and many young women have gone missing." He takes a deep breath.
"The mayor seems to think that there is nothing significant about the incidents. But he is a lazy, OLD, SONOVA..." he trails off and composes himself.
"It doesn't matter what I think, what matters is that there is a serious problem that needs to be dealt with. Now before I say anything else, tell me about yourselves."
"Well, I'm not exactly sure what a werewolf is - we don't have them back home. It doesn't sound like the work of a vampire though."
Damn. If it was a vamp leaving blood behind it must've been a young one - or one blood-drunk I suppose... Not good for us either way.
"As for myself, I am Arasmes Kemnebi. I have hunted a vampire halfway across the world to this region. I have trained for thirty years to hunt my targets, and I am very good. My mother is the legendary vampire hunter Izora, and she trained me. Most of my tools have been lost over the trip, but I am not without resources."
"I am disappointed to hear about the scattered blood - it doesn't seem like my target. It could be a new spawn though."
"Can someone direct me to this farm so I can look at the signs later?" Arasmes asks.
"i am on a pilgrimage to discover myself and my flock. Since leaving the temple, my journey jas been pretty miserable, but I am protected by Torag, i have managed to survive off the goodness of others and am provided for by offering my ordained services
"
"Let me also help you now, Torag has led me here and i believe it to be my duty to help Sandpoint before i move on."
Taltōsh shifted nervously, uncomfortable talking about himself. Yet I must--it will help to build trust with my boon companions. Something that we will need if we face such terrible monsters. It will also help me to overcome my shortcomings.
"There is little to tell, for I am young, having only seen twenty summers. I am a Varisian, and my clan travels--gypsies we are called. As a boy, I found some ruins and was attacked by a small gray ooze-like creature that scarred me with it's caustic touch. I managed to escape it and stumble back to our camp."
Taltōsh paused briefly before continuing, "I spent more and more time with my grandfather--as the other children taunted me about my disfigurement. It was my grandfather who helped me unlock my sorcerous potential.
"My grandfather died as we were heading to Nirmathas. He was not young, and I had promised him years ago that I would bury him in Sanos Forest. So I left the caravan and did as I was asked. After, I felt no great desire to return to my clan, as for half my life my grandfather was my main companion."
Shifting again, Taltōsh finished his story. "I was familiar with Sandpoint, and after spending some time here, I heard the rumor I spoke of earlier, and of your interest. I seek purpose, and your quest seems a worthy one. I am at your service."
Gazes sadly at Taltosh after hearing his story, "it must be tough to lose someone youre that close to"
Yolk pats taltosh in the middle of his back, about as tall as he could reach.
"Wear your skin proudly among our ranks, i will not judge you.
Gryfford is impressed at the mention of the vampire-hunting prowess of Arasmes Kemnebi. He nods several times as if to approve the providence (or is it the gods ?) which guided Arasmes to Sandpoint.
He listens intently to the story of Taltōsh, and seems pleased at Yolk's gesture of support to the Varisian.
Then he answers Angus.
"I have been raised in Tymon, by my father and an orc nurse. My father was a gladiator and he trained me in the art of fighting before an audience."
He pauses.
"When you're a gladiator you train every day of your life." He sighs. "You train hard."
"You see, not all fights are to the death in the arenas - not in Tymon. But now and then, you do the dance of death. And if you misstep, you go away." He looks at Jean. "The Lady of Graves takes you as her bridegroom."
"The most difficult part is... He chews his lips a little. "you must be... pretty, when you dance." He has a little laugh. "Perhaps beautiful is a better word for it. Or fair."
"You must be pleasant - enticing - to look at when you're trying to cut your opponent's throat. Because if you don't woo the spectators, you risk displeasing the crowd." He swallows.
"And if you make the crowd dislike you... then you're soon dead meat quartered in the sand."
He frowns. "In the arena, the crowd has always the last word. You can't be... unpopular, because he glances briefly at Adriel you can't win a fight against the crowd."
He seems to shake himself.
"But now, things are different. I haven't forgotten how to do the dance of death. Never will. But my father is gone. I am my own man now."
He looks at Angus.
"And I am a man of the sword". Almost unconsciously, his hand brushes the sheath hosting his falchion on his back. "I must fight to better myself" he resumes " so I'd like to fight the good fight."
He crosses his arms and concludes calmly.
"I think that, alongside my fellow adventurers, I can help the inhabitants of this charming little town and its countryside."
"Gryfford, your father must've trained you right. Not only to come out of such a life, but to maintain a humble approach, I admire your ambition."
Looking to Aluar, Yolk says, "The only one who remains cloaked in mystery is you, Jean." smiling.