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On a moonlit night, star-crossed young lovers held each other close
in the privacy of the manor stables. True, someone could stumble
upon them at any time, but it was late and no one usually
bothered with the horses after sundown. They giggled a bit as
they led one another by the hands into an unused stall. "I don’t
know how long we can keep meeting like this," said Talla, the
young lady of the house. "Surely our luck will run out and
someone will see us come here one night. "
"Then let us make this night last forever," replied Jerand, her poor
but handsome suitor. With that he kissed her. It wasn’t the kind
of kiss that an old couple does to remind themselves that they
were once in love. It was the kiss of youth, of first love, of true
love. It was the kind of kiss in which pressing the lips together is
only the beginning. This kind of kiss stirs the whole body. It
starts as a spark that moves down through the arms causing
them to pull the other person tight. It shot through their legs
making them weak in the knees. It made their toes tingle and by
the time it had worked its way back up to their minds, they were
dizzy and felt the need for a breath of fresh air. Still they clung to
one another, neither wanting to be the first to pull back.
A noise startled them and broke their embrace. "Hoo. Hoo." the
night owl called. They heard a rush of air and the flutter of
wings and began to laugh at themselves. "‘Tis but an owl, my
love." Jerand proclaimed. "A sentinel of our love wardi..."
A gruff booming voice interrupted him. "Damn ye boy! Get your
hands off my daughter at once! " They gasped and reeled as the
door flew open and the fury of a man of middling years
encroached upon them. "And you girl. Get thee back to the
house!" the man shouted with authority.
"But father!" When she tried to speak he advanced upon her even
more threateningly. "I’ll have none of it. Get!"
With the man’s attention focused on Talla, young Jerand seized the
opportunity to bolt for the door. He gained a good jump and
before the man realized it, Jerand had begun his sprint across the
manor grounds. "Thank Delneb he didn’t loose the dogs this
time," Jerand thought to himself as he huffed in the cool night air.
"Oh father! Must you be so stubborn?" Talla blurted out before she
began to sob."
"No daughter of mine will wed a barrel maker. I’ll not have it.
Now get thee in the house," he boomed and led her away by the
arm while she cried and protested.
As each lover lay in their separate beds that night, they shared the
same thoughts. "Surely there must be some way."
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You've made your way to the mostly human village of Hemden in the Kingdom of Eldor. Along the way you've picked up a few rumors about the town. 1. The Fireside Inn is a good place to stay 2. There's a local Skill Fair taking place in five days. 3. There's been a rash of grave robberies in town. It's early spring, the sun is shining but there's a slight chill in the air. It's about 50 degrees F.
When I arrive in town I visit the Fireside Inn, and order the best wine they have, and suppress the urge to wince when I find the human wine less palatable than a good elven vintage.
I watch the room, scanning for any other interesting types.
Moving towards the Inn Thilla opens the door carefully and steps inside, leaving place for Thule, her canine companion. Knowing just to well that Thule is often mistrustfull of two legs, she nevertheless smiles and orders some mead for herself and water for Thule.
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Tired from travelling, Duraz the cleric made his way to the Fireside Inn, not before purchasing some simple clothes. He would need a simple look to spread his god's word. As he strolled in, he barely looked at the people present and asked for a room. Yes, I will be staying through the Skill Fair, he assured the inn keeper.
Before heading to his room, he notices a watchful elf and a woman with an animal companion. He made a mental note to watch them out for trouble. Not long after coming in, he comes back out of the simple room he requested wearing simple clothes. He had left the armor and backpack in the room, so now he felt younger without the weight. His cotton turban did not match the clothes, as they were dirtier and better quality, one could see. Despite having no armor on, he still waltzed in the inn's common hall with a shortspear and a shield. This weight is worth carrying, the man thought.
He scanned the hall looking for men and women who worked with the strength of their backs and seemed unfavored by the more privileged, as he Duraz called nobles and rich merchants. Finding a small table of such locals, the cleric payed the table another round of the best, yet affordable, beer. He sat with them and listened to their stories, trying to keep their minds away from the fact that he was armed. Despite his more than average strength, Duraz knew he did not look particularly intimidating with his size, but a weapon is sure to intimidate anyone. He allowed the patrons to get used to his presence before leading them to his practiced pitch when they talked about the miseries of life.
In this world, the only thing we can count on is the strength of our backs and the sweat of our brows, he says calmly waiting for his drinking mates to acknowledge his words. I know the trials you have to go through, and have chosen to listen to the word of a god who values strength and the will to survive, he continues knowing they would be listening. I sit with you, because I believe you are the ones he values. His name is the Storm Lord, the cleric finishes letting his words sink in. He knew they were more than tipsy and probably would not be swayed with some words over a table, but the spreading of the god's word is a long and arduous task, and must start somehow. The cleric knew, however, that no enemies of his god were the main deities in this realm, so he had little chance of meeting hard resistance.
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The Fireside Inn is located in the heart of the village on the southeast corner of the Edros pike and Harbor Street. It offers a lively, yet comfortable atmosphere for the weary traveler. Smells of pipe smoke and roast meat waft through the air.
As you enter Miranna and the others here shouts at an older man running behind the bar. "Thurgald more roast venison! And ale"
He drops mugs of ale at the table and quickly asks if you're wanting supper. He turns to Duraz "Ah...the skill fair! Gruthal is quiet a skilled rider in the Steeple Chase. I wouldn't place a wager against him"
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A tall man with brown hair to his shoulders wearing armor with a bastard sword at this waist, walks over to the table and turns to Duraz "Ah friend..you seem from out of town. Welcome to the area. I am Lucius. A follower of the True." He smiles at the party and nods to Thilla. He turns back towards Duraz "I would hear more of how the Lord of Thunder would dealt with lawlessness and lies for surely the truth is the path towards justice!" He glances at Thurgald "Good inn keeper an ale please"
Mirianna speaks up at the talk of the skill fair, "What events are judged in this fair? I am a trained dancer, and I am certain I could acquit myself well."
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Duraz accepts the food gladly to cast away the chill of the road. He smiles at the bet recommendation, but offers not reply yet thinks to himself whether he should place a wager against Gruthal as a silent joke, but dismisses this thought as childish.
As Lucius approaches him, he offers a curt bow and hears his discussion proposition. He takes his time to answer and says All creatures need to find how to best live their lives, just as the gods themselves have different teachings. You seem to have set your life towards dealing with lawlessness and lies according to your god's teachings. He considers whether starting a discussion with a local with a large sword is wise in any sense. He decides it is not.
I will have to disappoint you in saying that this is not how the Storm Lord helps his followers. Instead, I would say we work in a complementary way to yours, in the sense that we incentive the people to be strong for themselves, so that they can stand for themselves, he says calmly.
Although the sudden questioning bothered him, Duraz decided he needed to humor Lucius. He offers to share his dinner.
"Investigating couldn't hurt? I'll accompany you."
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This sounds like an invitation, Duraz replies to Lucius hoping the local wouldn't notice the irony in his voice. He didn't feel inclined to go out again tonight, just after getting to town, so he said I suppose you want to go now?
Realizing how stupid he sounded, he got up after a large bite into his meal and lazily said without a clear effort to cover his full mouth Will you help me get into my armor? I feel like I'm practicing to be a contortionist every time I do it by myself.
After fully geared up, he waited for Lucius' and Mirianna's lead.
Looking at the others Thilla crawls her friends neck, feeling the lush hair of the wolf.
"I would also enjoy the trip. And my friend will love the chance to run!"
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As you leave the confines of the village buildings to the
northwest, the ground rises to a low hill. The hillside
is spotted with numerous small tombstones though
most of them are flat and only become visible upon a
close approach. Besides the graves, there are two
distinct features of the graveyard. One is a small
masoleum and the other is a statue of a powerful
looking warhorse.
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Duraz sniffs the air and takes a moment before saying I figure it would be best to investigate first the graves that have been robbed already, and search for any clue about who is doing this. As though to lighten the atmosphere, he says Hopefully it's just someone who lost their mind and doesn't know what they're doing.
"Yes, I see what you mean. Something with claws? What could it be, I wonder. . ."
Marianna looks around to their group, "Do we have anyone with us who knows the outdoors and animals? Someone who might be able to tell what kind of beast could make them?"
She moves in closer and points out the scratches to the others.
Leaning closer Thilla inspects the marks.
Looking at Duraz, she adds."My name is Thilla, Thilla Dvornsdottir!"
"Something is not adding up here. Do we need to unseal the tomb and investigate further?"
After hearing about the grave robbers Alurad decides to head to cemetery. Talking out loud to his pony shadow helps him process information. “Who in their right mind would dig up graves during a festival?” beginning to nod; “You do have a point there... festivals equals vendors from out of town. Just a bit easier to move the stolen goods.” He trails off after a bit.
Looking up the gravestone spotted hillside Alurad can clearly see a group of people around a statue of a warhorse and the mausoleum. “Well there certainly is something going on up there... don’t worry girl I will let you free before I approach.” Alurad pats shadow and gives her mane a pet.
Clearing his throat, the party sees an older gentleman approaching the party. He is wearing a red cloak with gold trim around the collar and around all the edges. He begins speaking as he is looking up to the statue of the warhorse admiring it. “Greatings! I do love a good rendering of this mighty steed. I myself have only a humble pony, but she does me well.” he gestures towards a grey pony a little bit down the hillside. “I don’t see many people coming up here unless they are mourning... what brings you to the cemetery?”
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Lucius doesn't notice anything strange about the stature.
A statue of a large, powerful-looking warhorse stands
near the top of the hill. An inscription on the statue,
written in Brandobian, reads, "I will come for that
which only a hero can offer.
After a few minutes as you look at the statue you notice a curious sight in the distance at the bottom of the hill. A mighty horse
much like the one depicted by the statue paces back
and forth, seemingly observing you. It carries itself
with an unnnatural intelligence.
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Duraz is startled by Alurad's appearance. He fumbles for his shortspear strapped to his back and crouches before realizing they weren't being ambushed. After cursing himself for being so ill prepared for a surprise attack he measures the newcomer a while and replies in a not so formal voice We try to make sense of some grave disturbing rumors in town. You wouldn't happen to know who is doing this?
After noticing the horse at the bottom of the hill, he wonders if it is a spirit, as one would expect in a graveyard.
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Unsure of how to react to the horse, he offers a respectful bow.
When Lucius comments the inscription, he reads it and draws his attention to the apparition. If you want to offer something to him, make sure it's something only heroes could offer, he says without a clue of what that could be. Maybe go talk to it?, he adds not actually believing the man would actually do it.
Alurad is silent for a moment taking in the group and nods once the human man speaks of rumors. “Where are my manners... I am Alurad Sorizan. I was traveling through town in hopes of a bit of entertainment at the festivities. I do find them a bit of levity to a life of study that I lead. I too came across rumors, particularly ones about grave robbers. So it’s clear why I am here. Just checking in on these rumors. I’m sorry, but, who are you all?”
When the others bring the apparition to his attention he puts a finger to his lips and mutters to himself; “Well aren’t you interesting....”
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Lucius greets the wizard. "Greetings Alurad I am Lucius Crownguard a warrior of the true. We are also investigating the grave robberies" After Duraz points out the ghostly horse "Something hero's could offer? Hmmm..a heroes reward? A tale? Or perhaps a feast?" He pauses "Or a journey or a welcome? Perhaps my thoughts are too jumbled"
"I am Marianna Tangier, and you'll pardon me, but I know little of heroes. I am but a humble dancer, after all. . ."
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Duraz walks back to the group and comments I wonder if this has something to do with the grave digging. Is this horse related to the mausoleum?
He puts his hands on the statue, stroking the horses head as if petting it. Then he moves to the mausoleum and runs his hand near the scratches as if looking for something distinct to the touch.
With a gasp as the horse vanishes, Alurad mutters something under his breath; “Iasau forth wer powers ekes ickrak’ey arcaniss.” And with a few movements of his hands Alurad cast a spell. He looks as if he is surveying the land looking for the horse that was once there. “humm... where are you?”
After a few moments Alurad lets out a slight whistle and a few clicks on his tongue in hopes that Shadow, his pony, would come trotting up towards him. “That beast never listens... Duraz is it? What do you see there my son?”
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Duraz looks inside and finds in a small stone chamber about four feet high and seven feet long, the dead body of an older man. It looks like something was taken off the body due to the fact that there's a "drag" mark in the dirt. The drag mark is about three inches wide and beside the body. It leads to the entrance hole. There's nothing else of interest in the chamber. The man wasn't buried with any other belongings beside a silver wedding ring and his dirty clothes. He's been dead for sometime.