What have we gotten ourselves into? thought Glorgrim.
This needs to finish quickly!
Glorgrim charges the priest, seeking to prevent any more tendrils of shadow forming.
Search Posts
Seeing blood seeping around the wound in Arikor's gut, Glorgrim goes strangely calm. These ones were not interested in talking. As if of their own accord, his hands have become fists flowing at the drow.
Reluctant to start fighting while there was yet anything of import to be learned, Glorgrim merely advances forward, hands open and empty.
Isn't Glorgrim back at the library with Sera, still? Was waiting for you to post before I posted.
These surface folk talk entirely too much, thought Glorgrim.
Though not unfamiliar with books, Glorgrim was no scholar. His books were mostly ledgers and contracts, and he felt unusually helpless amongst the piles of parchment. Still, he would do what he could. "Lady Sera, where else has Elminster lived besides Shadowdale?"
Twisted Tower: There are people enough running willy-nilly to check on locations in Shadowdale. The library sounds like a much more productive place to go, and in any case, Sera shouldn't go alone if her magic is spent.
Glorgrim nods and says, "After you." He has no idea where the library is. Perhaps this tower is a familiar place for Sera.
The Twisted Tower: Glorgrim watched as the reckless giant ran. Careful thought was what was needed here, rather than an impulsive action that might further unknown plans.
"My lord, I am a stranger here, and know little of what the man speaks, but I am loathe to put much stock in the words of a failed bandit, regardless of what dark powers moved him. Take up your courage again, my lord. For yon display may be no more than empty boast, though I admit I would be grateful for any light you may shed on the subject." Perhaps Arikor's plan would have prevented some of this after all, he thought.
In the course of his travels, Glorgrim had been in the presence of nobility a time or two, and had heard the flowery speeches they adored so. He bowed deeply before addressing Lord Falconhand. "Stone shelter and prosper you and yours, Lord of Shadowdale. We may have played a small part, but we neither caused the storm, nor planned to water any burning villages this eve, and the others you know," Glorgrim gestured to Valen and Sera, "played a role more worthy of thanks than ours." The dwarf shrugs before continuing, "Still, our toil was given freely, and we are glad to have it received in the spirit given." Glorgrim congratulated himself on not messing up that speech too badly when he noticed that he was still clutching the rain-filled mug of ale from the tavern. He surreptitiously hid it by standing straight, hands clasped behind his back.
The Twisted Tower: Glorgrim studied the surroundings while waiting. Though he tended to favor Arikor's plan, he realized that Lord Falconhand might have a more direct way of obtaining the information required. Either way, it was none of his affair; he wasn't one of the parties wronged. But these surroundings, Glorgrim approved of them. Understated. He would have to keep this in mind if he ever needed to arrange furnishings for a meeting place with human notables. Even a dwarf could feel comfortable here.
The Twisted Tower: Glorgrim nodded and Ruhk's remark. The big man might be bloodthirsty, but not a fool. As the Captain introduced himself, Glorgrim responded,
"Glorgrim of Aeft Stronghold in Daggerdale, at your service," and bowed, before following the half-orc inside.
Here was his invitation. Glorgrim did not intend to let his opportunity to travel pass him by. If he could snag a trading agreement for his clan's ore, that would be even better. Glorgrim walked over to stand by Valen. "Job should be finished right," he said simply.
"Have we anything to bind them?" Glorgrim asks, looking around.
Glorgrim hadn't noticed much of a constabulary or even militia, and even his clan elders would agree that once a task was started, it ought to be finished properly. But really, he was just eager to travel to places he had yet to see.
Away from home, and not entirely sure of the proper protocol for dealing with banditry in these parts, Glorgrim follows Arikor's lead. At least he does, after striping the bandit of the torch and his weapons, and ensuring that nothing is burning. And recovering what's left of his mug of ale.
Glorgrim grunted with pain as the torch struck him in the chest, mostly due to his own carelessness. He already knew that he couldn't catch up with the fleeing bandits, so decided to try to capture this one alive for questioning. Reluctantly dropping his mug, Glorgrim lunged at the bandit with both hands.
(Damage if critical is confirmed).
After being subjected to the tender mercies of orcs, the bandit's insult barely registered. Good, thought Glorgrim, as he felt the heat of the torch sear his skin, if he's swinging that torch at me, he isn't burning down more structures. Now to fix his attention on me well and truly.
Heh, my rolls were perfect, except the roll to actually hit the target. Good thing I didn't attack with the mug of ale!
It pained him to let anyone desecrate a temple, even an abandoned one, but he judged it worse to let the homes of the living burn. With the bandits already throwing oil, the time for talk has passed.
Attack roll:
Glorgrim races to up to the bandits. A fighter he is not, but he can still put himself between the bandits and the houses.
Glorgrim contemplated what he knew of the borders. The ancient Netheril Empire had been reformed. A number of Dales had joined with Cormyr's rival Sembia, though Shawdowdale and Daggerdale had joined to Cormyr. "It's tense." the dwarf admitted soberly. At the sound of the shout outside, Glorgrim lept to his feet, still clutching his mug and bowl of stew, spun around to the door, and raced outside into the rain for the second time tonight. Trouble, he thought.
Remembering the brothers' teachings of moderation, Glorgrim hesitates over the offer of another ale. After considering the issue a moment, he decides that it would be discourteous to refuse. And since, introductions were being made, it would also be discourteous to abstain from those as well. "Glorgrim of Aeft stronghold in Daggerdale, at your service. May stone support and shelter your journey." he intones, bowing over his cup of ale. The warm stew looks inviting, but Glorgrim allows everyone else present to be served first before taking a bowl. His gaze lingers a moment over the fine sword Valen bears and wonders if this gentleman is one who appreciates the value of dwarven ore.
"You're welcome, lass." replied Glorgrim to Imzel, inclining his head slightly. "Good lad." Glorgrim commended Ruhk, as the dwarf watched the tall man bring in his own load of firewood. Glorgrim had tensed initially at the elf's display of arcane prowess for such a trivial thing. But then he realized that he was reacting almost the same as he imagined his elders. That stopped him short and forced him to reconsider things. Perhaps, as he had been intent on making a point, the elf had been making a point of his own. Who was to say which way was better? Both of them had endured the wet and cold, and both brought in firewood for others. Glorgrim couldn't logically blame the elf for not being a dwarf, nor thinking like one. "Not the way I'd have done it, but you got the job done," conceded Glorgrim to Arikor. Then the dwarf pondered his empty mug and the events of the night so far.
Glorgrim hid a small smile beneath his beard. No wonder his kin thought the elven folk flighty. Still, Courtesy is a treasure which costs nothing, he thought, and no flowery-speaking elf was going to out-endure a dwarf. Though lacking Arikor's grace, Glorgrim stood from his chair and strode outside with a light step. Not bothering even to raise his hood over his head, he saw a stack of firewood not far outside. Remembering the example of his Ilmatian teachers, he quickly fingered the silk red rope around his wrist and unhurridly strode out into the rain to bring a large stack of firewood into the inn. After bringing his haul back into the inn and stacking it neatly in the appropriate place, Glorgrim tilted his head back at the elf, hoping the object lesson would be plain. Enduring discomfort is of little profit by itself; but enduring discomfort for the sake of another can profit many.
Glorgrim considered the storm, the shifting patterns of rain hitting roof and ground, the added difficulty that rain added to traveling and trading and answered the elf. "Wet." The dwarf sat silently for a few moments, then realizing that this elf probably hoped for a longer answer added, "Very wet." More moments passed, and the dwarf sensed that the elf still was not satisfied and drudged up a bit of solid stone-folk perspective. "Storms seldom bother folk in the mountain homes. I likely would not choose to weather the storm, but like your folk outside, would endure it as long as necessary. The strength of the dales is not such as to be washed away by a little water." Glorgrim paused to survey the room before answering Arikor's second question.
"Glorgrim of Aeft Stronghold in Daggervale, at your service!" replied the dwarf with a stronger voice, standing to return with his own bow, then resuming his seat. "Did you know him well, Elminister, that is?" he inquired, returning to his previous softer tone of voice.
Glorgrim considers the conversations beginning to pick up here and there throughout the inn. Another time, he would have been interested in the book or at least in the parts that didn't deal with magic, but right now the elf was of more interest to him. His clan were not known for eloquent speech, but that did not mean they didn't appreciate it when appropriate. Making another decision that would have had his elders shaking their beards at him, Glorgrim quietly picked up his mug and walked over to the elf's table. He stood silently a moment, respecting the mood and then sat down. "It isn't true, you know." Glorgrim said softly, "That bit about his wisdom dieing. His wisdom will only be dead when none heed it. And though I did not know the man, I very much misdoubt whether his spirit was broken even at the end."
Glorgrim sits alone at a well-worn table, nursing a drink. The red-haired dwarf fingered his braided beard as mused over the events of this day of remembrance. With all the peoples who had come, the day had been interesting enough, though not as fruitful for trading ore as Glorgrim had hoped. He had found himself under dressed for the event, since most travelers had brought out their finest, and Glorgrim wore only simple traveler's clothes. Even the silk red rope worn around his left wrist drew little attention this day. The ceremony drove home how short-lived and fragile these humans were, to feel the need to devote a day to remembering heroes only one year gone. Elminister's call to explore and protect the Realms rang home in Glorgrim's heart, though he doubted any of his clan would understand.
Onwards my friends! Shadowdale doth beckon us forth to a righteous cause this very night! Onwards! Let us begin this adventure soon, in hopes of much merriment and joy to be the reward! *grunts* *contemplates the many virtues of vows of silence* *ponders the paths that may lead to the elf making a few*
Ah, I won't get mad at you for doing your job. I don't think there will be any problem with one post per 24 hour period. I think that I only missed this thread because I rely on those little black dots to tell me which thread to pay attention to and this one didn't have one yet. For example, I kept up with my other threads. However, that post may not come at the same time in that 24 hour period. We don't have set schedules or shifts. This week, I'm working evening shifts and overnight shifts. Next week, it may be a different two or even all three shifts. So it's up to you. Do you what you need to for the game.
Sorry guys, I'd been busy at work. As a nurse, my schedule can be unpredictable and long. Then the thread vanished on me. I couldn't find the recruiting thread and never caught the link (if there was one) to the OOC thread. Give me a bit to get a simple background up. Edit: Here's the background Background: Glorgrim was born to a clan of miners in Daggerdale. Though he was always very careful with his mining, as was proper, mining never captured his heart or imagination the way he thought it should. So, Glorgrim began to serve his clan in other areas, trying to capture that spark. He sparred with the soldiers, served in the temples, and finally traveled with the few merchants of his clan. In traveling, he discovered that he also had a knack (by dwarven standards) for the merchant trade, and was happy for a time. Then he realized that traveling the same routes, trading the same wares to the same people was beginning to pall.
One day, Glorgrim was attacked, overpowered and captured by orcs. They treated him cruelly until he was rescued by Brothers of Ilmater. The skinny, unarmed or armored monks quickly dispatched his captors took Glogrim back to their abbey for healing. Glorgrim was deeply impressed by their discipline and effectiveness, and spent some time learning their ways. Glorgrim asked to represent his clan at the Anniversary of the Blue Flame. Though somewhat dubious at the thought of having Glorgrim 'represent' any body of dwarves, they eventually agreed.
Tentative character sheet up. |