"I'd hope so! We've been going back and forth so many times I forgot who said no first! The blasted armored fool wants to fight me and says if he dies he comes back! What in the world kind of curse is that?"
Barry spits on the ground and makes a common sign of warding off the "evil eye" in the faith of the Dwerfather.
"If you're looking to get across it seems he's as intractable as the mountain range."
Brave Sir Geron looks up as the rest of the party approaches.
"You're back. Like I said nobody can cross...". He then sees that Rail carries a decanter of some liquid and begins to stammer in anticipation.
"Is that? Did you? Can I finally rest"?
He seems to not pay attention to the most recent arrival as he is drawn to his possible ?Salvation?.
Rail nods and holds up the decanter. "Yes, we have it here. Do you know what we need to do with it? Do you drink it or do we sprinkle it on you? Something else?"
The Knight in ancient armor approaches but doesn't step off the edge of the bridge.
"Oh! Drink it. I must drink it. Please... bring it to me".
"All this arguing for a blasted drink? I could've given you water, heck, I would've gone back and got some beer or whiskey if you needed. Some say we dwarves are stubborn, but this lads got the head of an ox when it comes to saying no."
Barry steps aside and makes way for the others to provide the requested item.
Rail walks over to the knight and offers him the decanter of water.
The Ancient Knight takes the decanter with shaking hands. As he raises the faceguard of his armor tears begin to stream down his weathered cheeks. He takes one last longing look at the bridge behind him, then stares his thanks at each of you.
"I know not what your futures hold, but you've done me a great service, and whatever the afterlife holds I'll be forever in your debt".
"Thank You".
He then tilts back the decanter and quaffs its contents. He then hands it back to Rail, and steps back. At first the effects of the drink seem subtle as his age lined deepen, and he begins to slouch. He seems to sink within his armor, and it begins to rust and age as does he. A stiff wind begins to wind itself down the river valley, and as the man turns to dust and rust it blows him into the river below that he has guarded all these years.
The wind dies and all that remains of the knight is his gleaming longsword lying on the bridge where the eternal guardian once stood.
"Wow, that went well. I was waiting for him to turn into a monster, seems about my luck. Can one of you magic types confirm that broadsword is magical? Anybody typically use one?" Telurion asks of the others. Then he turns to the dwarf. "Sorry, business first right?" Then he walks over and offers his hand, "Telurion, and you are again?"
Brennus does what he can to observe the magical effects unraveling as Sir Garon disintegrates, his gaze riveted on the sight from his perch on Telurion's shoulder.
Once he's fairly certain there's nothing more interesting to see, the raven turns his gaze towards the dwarf that had been at the bridge. He tilts his head slightly to one side, considering him. For the moment he doesn't speak, not sure yet if he wants to reveal his capabilities to this stranger yet.
"Greetings, Telurion. My name is Baridon Dawnguard, but everyone just calls me Barry. Pleased to meet you, and your companions. By any chance, are you lot professional dungeon delvers and freelancers? My last opportunity went a bit squirrely, what with the crazy mages and group infighting, so I was traveling solo for a bit. But that's a lot more dangerous than I'd like."
Barry shakes hands politely and eagerly, with a broad smile across his bearded face.
"I'm a follower of the Dwerfather, as you can probably see," he taps the side of his emblazoned shield, "And I know most teams like to have one of us divine casters present whenever possible. What say you, up to travel together, at least for a little while?"
Rail nods at the sword. "I can but I prefer lighter weapons. The elf pats the ornate basket hilt of his rapier. "You'd probably be the best to carry it, Telurion. We could sell it but I would feel bad getting rid of that ancient knight's weapon. I feel like it should go in a museum or something."
"Hi, Barry. I'm Rail." The elf didn't often give out his full name when meeting new people. Maybe it was another superstition, like never passing a peddler on the road without purchasing something. He gestures at Telurion.
"These folks are. They fought undead and made sure a cursed item was put away someplace safe. I'm just along for the ride," he says with a smile on his lips. The elf shrugs. "The more the merrier, as far as I'm concerned."
He gestures at Brennus. "Oh, and watch out, he's a talking bird. Surprised the hell out of me at first.""