|
|
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 28, 2007 15:54:52 GMT
Date : Ches the 2nd, Year of the the Rogue Dragons (1373 D.R.)
Location : The Practice Fields, Daggerford.The Misfits are out, practicing as usual, in the morning sun at the rear of the stables. It is the first day in months that merchants have started out from Daggerford, blazing a trail to sell their goods in Waterdeep to the north or Baldur's Gate to the south. The winter thaw has definately started. The area behind the castle stables is often used for practice by the misfits. Today every other patrol is out ensuring that the borders of Daggerford are kept safe and sound for the residents. The misfits are the only people left to defend Daggerford if the need arises.
OOC1- Feel free to choose a sparring partner from the list and erm practice...... 
Hope Ive given enough information on ythe rest of the misfits.
OOC2- this thread is now open to Zeric and Thrugbur. Carmathaol (sp) will arrive later. Phil check your PM's
|
|
|
|
Post by Zeric on Jan 29, 2007 19:41:22 GMT
Zeric lounged in the shade of a tree, reading a pamphlet from the local church. He was not overly fond of exercise, in fact, physical activity generally made him feel somewhat ill.
He occasionally threw a glance towards his brother, Throgbur, who seemed never to miss an opportunity to prove his prowess in the fray.
He returned his attention to the pamphlet, it was forthright in spouting the wisdom of Tyr, if a little dry in it's composition. He put the parchment aside and lay back against the tree, his hands behind his head.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 30, 2007 0:03:23 GMT
Kally the Kobold wandered over to the tree under which Zeric was sat, as he was again without a sparring partner.
"Freind Zeric" The reptilian creature announced in his usual squeaky voice "I have a poem I have written for you."
Taking a deep breath the little kobold shouted at the top of his voice
"Oh how wonderful is Zeric,
the Man who was born to be a cleric.
He's Pious and Bold,
hell never grow old,
without a lady.
Never would he do anything shady.
My wonderful freind Zeric,
the man who was born to be a Cleric!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Zeric on Jan 30, 2007 1:27:26 GMT
Zeric grinned at the kobold's rhyme, "Very good, my little friend. If I might make a suggestion or two? Your rhyme needs to have a consistent meter, that is, it should have flowing and consistent rhythm."
Seeing the kobold's deflation, "It is an excellent rhyme, nonetheless. I merely say this in order that you may improve further in future."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 30, 2007 8:55:08 GMT
"Thank you freind Zeric, Kally likes you. He will listen to freind Zeric's advice." the Kobold replied
The kobold made a move to leave before stopping.
"Freind Zeric, why is it that no one likes to practice fighting with Kally? Like your brother, I ask him but he growls at little me and scares me"
|
|
|
|
Post by Throgbur on Jan 30, 2007 9:07:16 GMT
<Throgbur>
Attempting to spar with Garrion, Throgbur couldn't follow the little man.
"Stand still, no hit you." he grunted, swinging the padded axe with all his might and almost falling over. Instead his axe caused several nearby sparrers to duck and roll, unbeknownst to the huge Half-Orc.
He looked over at Zeric who was in conversation with Kally. "Zeric!" he grunted. "Garrion not fight fair!" He stalked over to his brother, hurling down the practice axe and plumping himself on the ground beside him.
Grumbling about Garrion, he emptied a bucket of water over his head and shook it like a bedraggled dog.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 30, 2007 9:29:55 GMT
Garrion ran over to where the three where standing.
"C'mon Throg! I was having such fun. You cant ht the greatest theif in all of the Duchy of Daggerford. I am uncatchable." He paused and frowned.
Well until tmy mum shopped me in. Come on big man, we can do it" He then grinned broadly showing all his mishapen teeth.
Over the youngster's shoulder the familiar sight of Myr rejecting the sovertly sexual advances of the Paladin Sir Kenderick.
|
|
|
|
Post by Throgbur on Jan 30, 2007 12:57:05 GMT
<Throgbur>
Throgbur sighed and shrugged his shoulders, and, hoping to catch the youth off balance, shot out a hand to grab him...
OOC:
If he hits I guess he might as easily knock him sprawling as he would actually catch him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 30, 2007 13:22:54 GMT
OOC- You catch him quite easily as he was expecting a shot with said axe.
"Oi Oi. You big oaf, let me go. You heard me let me go." Screamed the teenager.
"Zeric he wont let me go...."
|
|
|
|
Post by Throgbur on Jan 30, 2007 13:59:45 GMT
<Throgbur>
"Hur hur hur," Throgbur chuckled, "I caught you, I caught you!"
He lifted Garrion off the ground, gave him a little shake, no doubt dislodging half a dozen stolen properties, and them lowered him to the ground as gently as he could.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 30, 2007 15:12:12 GMT
"You are so not funny. You big oaf!!" said the youngster whilst picking up all the coinage that had fallen to the floor.
OOC- Im impressed by the start well done! Remember its teh first thaw, so its not exactly warm.... (though I guess Throgbar and Zeric will be used to it)
|
|
|
|
Post by Throgbur on Jan 30, 2007 22:01:45 GMT
OOC:
I'm guessing as a half-orc and usually dressed in furs, he's quite happy about his lot.
I'll wait for meine bruder to post before I go again.
|
|
|
|
Post by Zeric on Jan 30, 2007 22:25:49 GMT
"Thank you freind Zeric, Kally likes you. He will listen to freind Zeric's advice." the Kobold replied The kobold made a move to leave before stopping. " Freind Zeric, why is it that no one likes to practice fighting with Kally? Like your brother, I ask him but he growls at little me and scares me" Zeric decided it apt to have a little fun with the kobold. He looked around him, checking to see no one would overhear, then answered in a conspiratiorial whisper, " To tell you the honest truth, Kally, it is because they fear you. I heard the Paladin and my idiot brother talking in hushed tones by the privy. The paladin confessed to having a dread fear of your warrior's prowess and my fool brother said he would not like to meet you in a dark , damp dungeon..." " If those two confess fear of you, then I dread to think what the others are experiencing..." Zeric offered. |
|
|
|
Post by Cathmhaol on Jan 30, 2007 22:38:33 GMT
Cathmhaol stomped bad-temperedly down the road toward the practice fields. He watched the inept posturing and flailing of the Misfits with a heavy heart, cursing the luck that brought him here ...
He had risen early that morning, the need to get moving chafing away like an ill-fitting suit of armour. He kissed the still sleeping Birgitta and climbed out of bed. If he found work this day, he promised himself he would write to her the first chance he got. She wasn't a bad-looking lass and he was sure she wouldn't lack for company for long.
He quietly let himself out of the inn, there was no point in creating a scene after all, and headed in the direction of the market place. Even at this early hour, the first of the traders were getting their caravans ready. Cathmhaol strolled around, asking questions and casting a practiced eye over the guards, mentally judging their worth in combat as well as the likelihood that he'd live to collect his earnings with them fighting alongside him.
He'd just stopped to speak to one promising looking crew when a shout went up from guards at the gate. They were chasing a man who rode into the market square on horseback. One quick glance told Cathmhaol that the man was injured and badly so. As he watched , one of the guards took aim at the rider with a crossbow, looking to bring him down before he got any further...
"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" bellowed Cathmhaol, "Can ye not see that the man's injured..." and he grabbed the reins of the horse. As the animal stopped, the rider slid from his mount, saved from hitting the floor by Cathmhaol's quick reactions. As the man slumped in his arms, the two arrows that pierced his back were all to apparent to those watching on. "Ye should spend less time drinking and more time watching out f' trouble", he snarled witheringly at the hapless looking guards.
He turned the man over, careful not to touch the arrows, and spoke to him quietly, "Hey there fellow, what's happened to ye?" The man coughed, blood flecks decorating the front of Cathmhaol's tunic, "Cr... Cromm's Hold ... attacked ... liz ..." Whatever the rest of the message was, it went unsaid as the man's eyes rolled up into his head and an involuntary twitching indicated that the body had given up the fight to hold on to life.
Cathmhaol gently laid the man to the floor and stood up, suddenly weary. He closed his eyes, saying a short prayer for the fallen man, asking the gods to care for the soul of the departed.
"What's in the seven hells' is going on!" The piping, reedy voice of Lieutenant Godfried cut through his moment of prayer. Cathmhaol opened his eyes to find the the weak chinned, prematurely balding son of the Duke before him. Cathmhaol sighed inwardly as the onlookers universally took a step backwards, leaving him alone with the Lieutenant.
Renowned for being petty and vindictive, Cathmhaol had fallen out with Godfried within days of entering town when he took up with Birgitta. The lieutenant had been wooing her for weeks and he was less than amused when Cathmhaol moved in with his intended. From the squinty look in his eye, he was obviously working out how he could now get his own back ...
Still furious at the flanker that Godfried had pulled on him, Cathmhaol stomped into the middle of the practice ground, pulled a whistle from under his jerkin and blew a loud blast. As the fighting came to an abrupt halt, he raised his voice and shouted, "LISTEN UP! Ye heroes have a new boss! I'm Cathmhaol and Lieutenant Godfried, in his definitely finite wisdom, has put me in charge of you hopeless lot! Cromm's Hold has been attacked and it's our job to find out what's gone on. Now, go get yer shit together, we leave in one hour! Any questions?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Throgbur on Jan 30, 2007 22:56:58 GMT
Still furious at the flanker that Godfried had pulled on him, Cathmhaol stomped into the middle of the practice ground, pulled a whistle from under his jerkin and blew a loud blast. As the fighting came to an abrupt halt, he raised his voice and shouted, "LISTEN UP! Ye heroes have a new boss! I'm Cathmhaol and Lieutenant Godfried, in his definitely finite wisdom, has put me in charge of you hopeless lot! Cromm's Hold has been attacked and it's our job to find out what's gone on. Now, go get yer shit together, we leave in one hour! Any questions?" Throgbur stood to his full height, dropped Garrion in a heap on the floor, removed the padded cover from his axe and slung it over his shoulder. Offering a hand down to his brother, Throgbur pull him up, if he took it, and stepped up in front of Cathmhaol. "Throgbur ready." he said in a cheerful tone. "Boss." he gave his best toothy grin. |
|
