I’m going to vote for Knuckles too. I really enjoyed the curmudgeonly, cantankerous, and callousness he has.
Search Posts
Dolion nodded his head in agreement at Felder’s suggestion. ”I reckon that be as good a plan as any. I’ll start by talking with old Lamdamon and his daughter,” he offers with a roguish wink. When they break up he will seek out the pair.
”A good. Nights sleep and a clear head will do us all some good, Dolion offered. He turned to the elf, ”Let the poor woman rest we can talk about fairies and woodland sprites in the morning under th light of day.”
Playing out the journey is fine by me.
”Don’t worry Bernadette we will help however we can,” Dolion offered trying to comfort the distraught woman.
How much gold do they say you owe,” the young thief inquired while trying to stay on the darkened path.
Dolion hears the wisdom in Osseus’ words and takes up a position close to Bernadette hoping to protect his friend’s sister.
”Friends! Dolion shouted across the darkened expanse. ”Beware, there are fell beasts in the woods this night. We hope to join our party to yours for safety’s sake.
Dolion also takes a torch and lights it from the flame of Osseus’ torch.
The young thief keeps his sword out as they set off, ”Right then. Let’s move.”
”That’s strange I’ve never heard of caelyxes attacking a group this large,” Dolion commented to the others. ”We best make tracks before they come back.”
Any fighter changes are fine by me.
Just a friendly bump. I hope all is well.
Much goodness here.
Dolion crouched low, waiting for the creatures to approach. The young thief sprung forward, timing his attack perfectly, his sword hummed as it sliced through the air and plunged deep into the unfortunate caelyx with a resounding thunk.
Dolion holds his ground waiting for the creatures to attack.
At the elf’s warning Dolion tried to retreat into the shadows.
Relieved at the cleric’s assurance that the corpse is not Bernadette Dolion wonders, where is the lass? That mystery will have to wait until morning, he concluded as he follows knuckles.
Unsure if the area is safe the thief stands watch as his comrades examine the mangled corpse. With a nervous stutter he asked, ”Is it h..hherrr?”
At the mention of predators Dolion draws his sword and walks with it in hand.
Dolion kept an eye on the mercenaries as they made their way. Out of the corner of his vision he noticed something on the side of the road and went to examine it. At first he thought, a rock of some sort? Upon closer examination he announced, ”look at this strange animal turd.”
Following the mercenaries lead Dolion keeps his hand close to his sword, ”Aye, as my friend said, you’ll get paid.” He pauses for a second and added,”but only after we find this body you spoke of. Now let’s stop yammering like washer women and stay alert.”
Dolion’s ears turn red at the news of the body. He nodded in agreement at the tongue lashing given to the men by Knuckles. He manages to contain his anger and holds his tongue. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword as he watches the mercenaries closely.
Dolion returns Knuckle’s glare with a lopsided grin and an exaggerated shrug before returning to his drink.
”Cheer up lads. It looks like you’ve found employment,” the thief added raising his mug in the air in salute before bringing the cold beer to his lips.
Cargo: Moorfowl Mead- this medium bodied semi sweet mead is made in the village of Mere, located in the foothills of the Moorfowl Mountains. It has a subtle smokey flavor that accentuates the notes of apples, flowers and caramel of the brew. It is made from fermented apple cider, maple syrup, and honey then infused with rendered bacon fat. A special moss, that can only be found in the Moorfowl Mountains, is added during fermentation.
Dolion shrugged at the wizards rebuke and listened to the two young men,”Kasser? I think my pa worked for him from time to time. He takes a seat beside Knuckles and suggested, ”Maybe we hire these two and recover their master’s goods. Might be a bit of a reward to be had.” He asks the unemployed guards, ”What was the cargo you were protecting?”
The two men shrug and the blonde one (Aiden) speaks. "There really is nothing to do around here, we're about run out of the money we got paid up front for the caravan job, and it looks like the Baroness at least is always hiring. A man's got to it, you know!" Dolion continued to warm his hands at the fire as he replied, ”You’re welcome to travel with us to Gulluvia when we go … safety in numbers and all that. But you won’t be seeing any coin from us for the pleasure of your company.” He continued with a lopsided grin, ”Especially when your only references are food for goblins.”
Thanks for the plot hook summary. Maybe it’s just nostalgia but the the Shady Dragon Inn is one of my all time favorites. My brother (the usual DM) used npcs from the Inn to supplement our party all the time. The halfling Leander Lostburrow was my all time favorite! My brother played him as a pyromaniac madman… we bought every flask of oil we came across.
The thief makes straight for the fireplace and soaks up its warmth. His road weary muscles begin to relax and releases a small moan of pleasure, I haven’t been this warm in ages. He stands there a few moments more and turns toward the young men warming their feet, ”Any news of the road to Guilluvia?”
Dolion’s stomach rumbled at the mention of Venison stew reminding him of his empty stomach. ”We’re looking for a less named Bernadette. She hails from Gulluvia.
”Cold beer and a warm hearth sounds good. What do you have available to eat,” Dolion asked. He continues, ”As to our business, we’ve been away for a while and are supposed to meet an old friend here.”
What unnatural acts is he going to perform in those wood? Dolion thought as the elf made a hasty departure into the woods. He turned to the task at hand and walked through the gate of Velders heading toward the Shady Dragon Inn. The thief couldn’t help but look up as he walked in the shadow of three man sized cages, made from cold iron, which hung suspended above the town’s gate. He shuddered, Thankfully they are empty, and picked up the pace toward the inn.
Dolion listens to the conversation between the elf and Zappora waiting for a moment to chime in and impress the young lady. He finds his moment while she is helping her father. ”Kymil isn’t a Brucha elf either. The Brucha are more reclusive and look slightly different. I think he is just a regular elf… well err… I mean common variety elf,” he said with a shrug.
Dolion gave a knowing wink at Knuckle’s banter and later nodded in agreement, ”Aye, let’s move on while we still have daylight.”
No mystery there... Dolion saw a lot of it, though my own memory has a large hole. Look, it was one bad night on bad booze in a bad brothel bar. Big damages, and so I owe Blackbrow a bigger debt. Problem is that he doesn't want just gold to settle the issue. Then this whole Jeremiah and the farm thing came up and I sorta put that debt on the back of the stove to stew a bit, though Petros Blackbrow may beg to differ. Dolion nodded in agreement with a lopsided grin on his face, ”It was quite a sight indeed.” ”I’m sure bards will sing of it long after we all pass,” he added mockingly. He taps the side of his head with his finger, ”but what would they call it this sonnet?” He pauses dramatically, ”Barroom Blackout Brawling Because a Brothel’s Bad Brew.” He smiled at his friend”let’s hope the ale tonight is a bit better.”
Dolion quickly pocketed the proffered silver piece and listened to their conversation. With a raised eyebrow he offers, ”Wouldn’t this be a better discussion to have in a warm inn with a cold ale?”
Dolion looks at knuckles with a leering grin and an overt wink as he motions his head toward the tinker’s daughter, ”I think we know where your head is at my friend. But let’s focus on the task at hand, I don’t fancy getting run over by this wagon so close to a hot meal and a warm bed.”
Now that it was settled, that they were going help with the wagon, Dolion wanted to get moving and further away from the shadow of the forsaken castle. He walked toward the back of the tinker’s wagon, ”Osseus is right best we get along. There will be time for talking along the way.”
Tyrolean troubadour.
Dolion jumps up with a smile and confirms, ”It looks to be in good working order.”
The thief lets out a sigh, frustrated that he created more work for himself.Now I’m a wainwright, he thought as he stood still, reluctant to move toward the wagon. He looked down at his flaccid coin purse and sighed again, ”a small payment would be nice.” Dolion approached the wagon and made a show of inspecting the wheels. While at the same time taking note of any valuables left unsecured by the tinkers. As he examined the wheel he remembered his manners and offered, ”Well met travelers. I’m called Dolion and these are my companions.” Dolion stands from his inspection and introduces each of his companions before returning to the task at hand.
Dolion shuffles his feet not willing to commit to the arduous task and the delay of reaching a warm fire. Looking for an excuse not to help he asked, ”What’s wrong with the wheel? Might be a bit dangerous to be behind your wagon if there is a problem.”
Dolion tried to keep his eyes on the broken wagon ahead but his gaze kept returning to the ruined castle. He had the feeling of being watched and walking this close to the ruin made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He quickened his pace, Damn the bards and their accursed story’s, he thought as he tried to look away. ”Damn crows,” he muttered while he kicked a small stone off the path in frustration. He stopped for a moment and stared at the castle’s remains and decide it was definitely creepy. What remained of the walls were covered in moss and despite the noon day sun shadows hung over the menacing structure. The young thief tried to peer into the distant gloom of the keep when the sudden screech of a crow startled him from his task. He cursed the crows again and started to hurry toward the disabled wagon. But his thoughts kept returning to the castle and the stories surrounding it. Ruined Castle: Their are many tales told iacross Gulluvia about the ruined castle of Lord Orrik. The most popular is the ballad “Orrik’s Folly” but regardless of the song, prose, or story the tales all shared a common theme…. the crows. Some say Lord Orrik made a deal with a witch and couldn’t keep his end of the bargain. Still other tales tell of a vengeful Druid taking revenge for Orrik’s deprivations against the fair folk of the forest. While the stories differ in detail they all end the same, with his court being killed by some fell magic as Lord Orrik and his family are transformed into crows to feast on the remains of his former subjects. Over the years many people have disappeared in the vicinity of the broken citadel and every so often their corpses are found picked clean by crows.
I’ll take a stab at # 2) Describe the ruin at the base of the escarpment in a bit more detail. What do you know about it? I’ll have a post up sometime after 10pm Eastern USA.
Sounds fair. Thanks.
@Osseus - perfect
|