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Post by Dungeon Master on Sept 2, 2008 12:24:23 GMT
Delora looked at the others in something akin, to shock. "Thats what you want us to fight and defeat? A demonic lizard man whose been killed a number of times and still come back? Oh you dont like to do this easy do you?" she shook her head
"My head say I need to stop now and go and run my fathers business, my heart says otherwise. Ill come with you to Waterdeep, then Ill decide." the tears welling in her eyes.
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Post by Rumbleskin Ironeater on Sept 2, 2008 12:56:59 GMT
<Rumbleskin Ironeater>
Coming out of his revery, Rumbleskin picks up on the comments of the group: "What do you mean again? I tole ye, he's nae been seen since he disappeared in yon hole! Tell old Rumblie that you guys havenae picked a scrap with yon lizardy beast? Delora girl, have you a space fer a cantankerous old dwarf in that there family business?" said the dwarf in mock seriosness... "I mean, I'm all fer a good scrap an' all, but REALLY now!"
Rumbleskin stopped his tirade and quaffed once more at the mead: "So, I tole ye the past, methinks someone here best tell me the current story... Who found the scaly witless wonder, who has he subverted already and where be the lines drawn?"
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Post by Cathmhaol on Sept 3, 2008 16:07:19 GMT
"We got into a scrap wi' some o' the scaly buggers down Cromm's Hold way," said Cathmhaol, "An' we heard o' the name o' Sssakathka there. Looks like he might o' come back f' another go..."OOC: From memory, at least! If this turns out to be wildly inaccurate, blame Cath's advancing years!
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Post by Zeric on Sept 3, 2008 18:59:27 GMT
"We got into a scrap wi' some o' the scaly buggers down Cromm's Hold way," said Cathmhaol, "An' we heard o' the name o' Sssakathka there. Looks like he might o' come back f' another go..."OOC: From memory, at least! If this turns out to be wildly inaccurate, blame Cath's advancing years! Zeric jokingly scowled at the warrior, then addressed the assembled 'crowd' " This is a tale that bears proper telling. Get me another mulled wine please, will you?" He drew his patchwork cloak around him, savouring the warmth of the hearth, " Our tale begins at the turn of winter, as spring's first breath fell upon the lands of The North. By many roads, we had assembled in Daggerford, as part of the town's militia. 'tis a fair way to spend the winter - food in your belly and only a little trouble to deal with for your coppers; drunks and ne'er-do-well's for the most part and of course a few thieves, but as I say naught out of the ordinary for a reasonable-sized dwelling as winter's boredom creeps in." He sipped his cup of wine, warming to the telling, " We were a diverse unit - Cathmhaol and I, my brother and twin, Throgbur..." That name was spat, almost a curse as foul as any travelling peddlar might utter 'pon those who refused to buy their wares, " Anyway, the others were also diverse, young Garrion the Quick, a lad as sharp as yon axe, dwarf and twice as likely to cut your purse from your belt whilst maintaining a visage you'd swear wouldn't melt butter! Alzhedo: proud man of southern shores. Quiet and watchful; no one got close to this one, but a terrier in a scrap he was... even armed habitually as he was with only a quarterstaff." He sipped once more from the cup, actually finding himself enjoying the company, cameraderie and rapt faces of the audience, " A smellier, 'nor more filthy dwarf you'd not meet this side of the Spine that Bellandra Irongut. As far as we can tell, she was female. I think you'd have liked her, Rumbleskin. She carried a huge axe, or on special occasions, a spear. But she was of ill-temper and none too popular with her fellows in the militia." " Which brings me to Myr Vespar, a half-breed elf," Zeric added with a smirk. " Found guilty of negotiating her affections, she was given the choice of militia service, or gaol... A fine figure of a lady, no matter what your species. But a heart as cold as the Great Glacier. Stuck up would be a charitable way of describing her..." Zeric took another sip, draining the cup and looked expectantly at his fellows, " Yes, a mismatched bunch we were in Patrol 13. The others naicknamed us The Misfits and it stuck like a badge of honour with us, though it was intended to be insult. Now, where was I? Ah yes! The Dramatis Personae in our tale. Perrin was a fierce example of halflingkind, fought viciously wi' twin curved daggers and aced the winter archery tourney wi' his shortbow. Much to the consternation of Kendrick." Or rather, Zeric corrected, looking plaintively for another cup, " Sir Kendrick of Waterdeep, Paladin of some god-or-other. A comely fellow who provided no end of amusement through the long winter nights by demonstrating the hard-headedness which is typical of the breed." He chuckled, an uncharacteristic sound from the young sorceror, one which had a hint of forced humour about it, " Every single day, Kendrick would polish up his armour, sword and shield, scrape the mudstains from his tabard and march up to Myr and ask her to step out with him." The sorceror tipped a knowing, bawdy wink to the listeners, " But we all are demihumans of the world, are we not? And know what he was really after, yes?" He paused for effect, " Good. And every day, without fail, Myr would reply, Not even if you paid me! And this from a common whore! I tell ye all, 'twas a joy to watch and no mistake. The ego was dented, but never broken. Still, each newday, he would repeat the ritual..." He wiped a tear of joy, or perhaps sadness from his eye, " Then there was Dansain Glimmerstone. A gnome, with all that both implies and entails... Always caught in some contraption's glorious end or another. Not a fighter by any manner of means. Like most, Dan landed in The Misfits since no one else knew what use he'd be..." As Zeric related the tale of the Misfits, his face now became a genuinely sad visage, " Kally..." He drew a deep breath, forcing himself to continue, " Kally was that strangest of enigmas. A Kobald bard if claim were truth! He could write verse that would sour milk and turn it into hard cheese at a range of five leagues, but he had a good and kind heart and I grew... used to his presence." " Next to finally, we have Kirdan, wayward son of Baron Cromm. Everything a noble-born son is. Arrogant, disrespectful and spoiled. He was brought to brook by his father and placed in the militia. I would say, that did him some good and he'd likely have made a fair soldier if he'd been able to keep his mind 'pon the task at hand. For he was a handsome lad, and with an eye for the young ladies of the 'ford." Zeric gave up on receiving a drink from his companions and gestured to the barkeeper for another round, " And one for yourself, good sir. Finally, there was the one person in all of creation I've met so far as could give Ms. Irongut a run for her gold in the stench stakes! Vane Harumpthal. A hunter o' undead, brought to low fortune by an unfortunate misunderstanding during which he accused Bar'n Cromm himself o' being a creature of the night!" He paused for a sip or two of the mulled wine, " Those were our companions, gone now, but for myself and Cath. Cut down in their prime, though we have heard rumour that young Garri is alive and has made it to Waterdeep an' that another," he emphasised the word with bitterness and loathing, " is in league with this 'Ssakathka' who has been stirring up trouble among the lizardmen of the area..." " But I get too far ahead of myself, for the tale will suffer in jumping ahead to the middle..." he stated. " One morning, some weeks ago..." Had it really been so few weeks? " ...we were detailed to go into the marshland surrounding Cromm's Hold, since we'd been appraised of an attack on the Baron's home by lizardmen. The creatures had ne'er been so bold in recent memory and we set out, full of vim an' vigour to teach them a lesson they'd not soon forget." He related the tale of the raid on the lizardmen camp and the grim news about Baron Cromm's death, " ...and it was there that we first heard mention of the name of Ssakathka. We thought not much more about it and duty continued for some time, though some of us decide to leave the militia's tender embrace and strike out for our own fortune by providing a security force for the Baroness. T'was thus that we formed the adventuring company known as Cromm's Daggers..." He took another small sip of wine to wet his mouth and continued, " The course of our duties was much as it had been in the Militia, of course, the pay was much better! We had various adventures in and around the Hold and Daggerford, including a run-in with some Red Wizards of Thay. On about the 6th day of Ches, wasn't it, Cath?" He waited for the warrior's reply before continuing, " The Hold had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of a merchant caravan and therefore, we decided to travel south and see what had become of them. In the vicinity of Liam's Hold, we heard rumour that the 'van had been likely taken by bandits which inhabited those parts of late. So, we set out to seek the truth. There was myself, Cath and Vane, along with an elven maiden we'd encountered in Liam's tavern. We had taken her for a Harper and foolishly put our trust in her... since that organisation famously serves the common good." Zeric twisted his mouth in a rueful expression, " Anyway, we found the remains of a caravan and our friend Dace here, some miles south of Liam's Hold. Dace had been acting as a guard to the caravan and had been incapacitated in the fight. A tale of attack by wolfriders was told and a trail leading off the road, led us to the caverns which turned out to be Clan Ironeater's Halls. There we freed Delora, who's father's caravan it had been and lost good friends in the fight" Zeric regarded them each in turn, " We were betrayed by the bitch, Nimen who had been, at least according to her, tasked to lead us into a trap... A trap that cost us the life of our comrade, Vane." As far as we can determine, she is on her way to Waterdeep and Undermountain and it is there we must thwart her plans. Now this information was imparted to us by a Naga, who had no reason to lie, as he thought he had us defeated and ready to be executed on the spot... " Zeric stared for a moment into the flames and embers of the fire, as though drawing fuel for his hatred of Nimen from the coals, " It was during our escape from the Drow-infested halls of your people, that we encountered you, Rumbleskin, floating in some manner of stasis-magic field. Using my not inconsiderable skills at sorcery, I released you from your eternal bondage." Zeric took another sip and said, " Well, Master Ironeater, the rest you know. We escaped from the halls of your clan and have ended up far north of our starting point, from there we encountered another traveller," he nodded acknowledgement at Eneval, " and here we now are..." OOC: I hope that's at least a more-or-less accurate version of events...
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Post by Cathmhaol on Sept 3, 2008 19:41:04 GMT
OOC: More so than mine! Cathmhaol placed the glass of mulled wine in front of the young wizard. "Aye," he said quietly, "Too many o' our comrades are n' longer wi' us. We owe that bitch Nimen f' at least some o' them, an' Ssakathka an' all."
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Post by Dace on Sept 3, 2008 20:50:20 GMT
OOC:
It's perfect! (Except Dace isn't there )
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Post by Rumbleskin Ironeater on Sept 3, 2008 21:02:43 GMT
OOC: Nice one Tom!! Have a korma!
<Rumbleskin>
Rumbleskin motioned the bartender for a mulled wine which he paid for and carried over to Zeric, sitting at the sorcerer's table.
As Zeric came to the end of the tale, rumbleskin nodded to him, Cath and Delora:
"Looks like ye could be usin' a rusty dwarf after all... If ye'll have me, I'll add mine armor an' axe to yon group and we'll go carve us some lizard stew or die in th' tryin'. 'Sides, methinks I may owe King Hiss fer me clan somehow too"
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Post by Zeric on Sept 3, 2008 22:03:57 GMT
OOC: More so than mine! Cathmhaol placed the glass of mulled wine in front of the young wizard. "Aye," he said quietly, "Too many o' our comrades are n' longer wi' us. We owe that bitch Nimen f' at least some o' them, an' Ssakathka an' all." Zeric took the glass and raised it in a toast, " To absent friends and sweet revenge served cold!"
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Post by Cathmhaol on Sept 5, 2008 7:03:27 GMT
Cathmhaol said nothing, but merely raised his glass in salute to their fallen comrades.
His sat quietly, lost in thought for a few moments, then raised his head and looked around. "Where're the fellas who are comin' t' get us? Much more o' this an' we won't be in any sort o' state t' meet anyone?"
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Post by Rumbleskin Ironeater on Sept 5, 2008 8:02:07 GMT
<Rumbleskin>
Rumbleskin raised his tankard and saluted the toast before quaffing vigorously.
Wiping the foam from his beard, Rumbleskin said: "Iff'n ye'll bear wi' me on this, it be tradition among me clan tae lighten th' mood after such tales of Dark Deeds an' troubled times wi' indoor sports (such as axe throwin' an' the like) an' singin'. Now, I be sure'n that the good barkeep would be preferin' us tae skip yon tests o' athletic prowess an' go straight t'singin' so: be there anyone who kin hold a tune in here?" Rumbleskin addresses the pub at large "Or must a rusty ol' Dwarf show ye's why it is we're known fer our fightin' and no' our singin'?!"
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Post by Zeric on Sept 5, 2008 18:43:10 GMT
Zeric looked to Cathmhaol pleadingly at the dwarf's threat, "Isn't that our cue to leave?"
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Post by Cathmhaol on Sept 6, 2008 10:17:10 GMT
"I think," said Cathmhaol drily, "that our comrade's voice might be just the thing to stir our escort from their slumbers." He lifted his tankard to toast Rumbleskin, "Sing away, good dwarf!" he commanded.
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Post by Dungeon Master on Sept 6, 2008 14:55:21 GMT
As the warrior spoke, a guard captain walked into the Moonstone Mask. The barman looked at him, nodded at him and waved him over. Pointing to the three human adventurers and the elf, he said "They are the ones that your looking for, Cromm’s Daggers. Two are staying, but will be back before the nights done." Smiling at the others he said "The captain here will take you to Neverwinter Castle and your meeting. The bar here is open all night so no matter what time you come back at, there’ll be someone here to serve you.”
The guard asked the adventurers names, writing it down on a piece of parchment. Once written down, the parchment was rolled up and tucked inside his tunic. Smiling he led the dressed up group towards the door of the inn. With that the four reluctant adventurers, followed the guard outside, where a half dozen soldiers on horses surrounding a modern looking carriage. The black carriage had no horses and seemed to hum with magical energy. The adventurers go in the carriage and when they were sat down, the carriage took off at a slow yet steady speed. Fascinated by the magical transport, Delora stuck her head out of the window watching the carriage pick up speed down the hill towards the castle. The horses of the armed watch guard were almost at full gallop, the streets strangely clear for the magical vehicle. Slightly exhilarated and looking a little scared, the girl sat down on the plush red cushions of the interior, the colour set off by the dark wood of the interior. Was it Ebony, from the dark jungles of Chult, expensive and rare, this carriage was obviously used for the most privileged of guests. Breathing heavily the girl closed her eyes and smiled.
After some 10 minutes or so, the carriage stopped and a manservant opened the door. Offering his hand to Delora he helped her down to the ground, before motioning for the adventurers to follow him. He led them through the double doors of the impressive castle, leading them through a hall whose walls were covered in shields and weapons. A row of plate suited guardsmen stood creating a corridor to another impressive door, one on each side, ten in length. The manservant beckoned the adventurers, stood at the door motioning them to stop. Lifting a large black mace, he chapped on the door three times; the noise ringing around the hall like it was amplified, almost otherworldly. The door was opened and the adventurers were beckoned in.
The impressive throne room, had a large throne at one end where an middle aged man satb, slumped on his throne his right hand propping up his bearded chin. Bored would be the best description of the man. To his side stood a man all dressed in white, he looked like a stereotypical wizard his robes reaching the floor, staff and long beard. As the adventurers entered the hall a man at the far end rang a bell, shouting “Lord Nasher, I present to you the Cromm’s Dagger Adventuring Company. The members present at in this hall with you are; Cathmhaol of Waterdeep, Zeric of Westview, Delora of Baldur’s Gate and Eneval, Elvenkin. Two of the numbers are at the Moonstone mask, a dwarf by the name of Rumbleskin Ironeater and a caravan Guard, Dace of Longsaddle. They are known to have had contact with the Shade in Neverwinter Woods and met our agent Hern, there. There is a request for them to have transport to Waterdeep, made directly from the Duke of Daggerford himself. As per his request we now have a boat waiting to run them to Waterdeep, even this close to the end of the winter storms. They’ve been brought here to answer any questions you may have.” The man with the bell, beckoned the adventurers forward. At the side of the throne, the adventurers make out nine armoured men, each mans shield covered with the arms of Neverwinter. Could these be the Fabled Nine, the guards of the Lord of Neverwinter.
The man on the throne came forward and spoke his voice gruff voice ringing out around the hall “At ease my friends, I to once used to be a thrill seeker much like yourselves. The politics of the castle dictate a formal introduction and pomp and ceremony, really Im not like that myself but needs must. Pwyll is a close personal friend of mine; I gave him the potion that cursed him to his voice of blasting. Pwyll Greatshout, as he’s called. So in honour of that” he motioned his hand and two guardsmen rushed forward a chest in their hands “I give you these,” the chest is opened and inside are a number of potion bottles, three swords, a breastplate, two shields, two daggers, a mace and an ivory wand. “You can take one each, they are items I picked up as an early adventurer. So I have no need of them now. Feel free to take them; they have been given in good faith. So my friends tell me about the Shade and their plans in the woods, these are strange times and I feel we have dark times coming. Shades, demons, Lizard Kings. None of these things spell good things ahead.” his forehead furrowed.
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Post by Cathmhaol on Sept 7, 2008 10:04:44 GMT
"Thank ye f' such a gracious welcome, m' lord," said Cathmhaol with a formal bow. "Your generosity is also most welcome."
He stepped forward and looked into the chest then looked askance at Lord Nasher, "Err... ye don't happen t' know what does what, d' ye?"
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Post by Dungeon Master on Sept 7, 2008 11:20:26 GMT
Nasher nodded, "Aaaah yes. We do. Mymidion, my wizard will help. Old friend?" The lord motioned with his right hand.
At this gesture the white robed man walked forward and spoke, "The sword with the emerald, is Lazters Longsword, it has reputed bonuses against dragons. The two handed sword, is Dardenal's Bane, its always seems to strike true and hard. The final sword, is Flamering a flaming longsword. The breastplate is Nashers old armour, offering magical protection. Im proud of that one myself." he smiled at the group.
"The shield with the hawks head on it, is Bridon's Sense, it allows the wielder to see in the dark. The shield with the crown on it, is Erdenel's Shield, its reputed to be excellent from horseback. The dagger with the serrated edge is King's Ransom, a blade that killed an unknown king. The dagger with the snakes cross hilt is Iral's Venom, a blade that seemingly screams for blood with each hit. Its has beneficial properties against snake venom, even when just carried. The mace, is effective against undead and is called Jergal's Gift. Its no artifact despite its name. The Ivory Wand, aaaah, I love that item. It has no name, except maybe Myrmidion's Ivory Wand. It produces random magical affects and doesn't need a wizard to wield. The potions are healing draughts. That is it, I think, though Sorcerer your choice may be limited"
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