Green Squadron Day One
Opening
Ah, the road is long and hard, but finally I reach Daggorford. A small
community with a small keep nestled against the Delimbyr River. It is
the last decent town on the last leg of the road to Waterdeep. Only
another 150 miles to go, but though I see the crossing bridge before me
the inn just before it beckons me enter. I see by the sun that it is
about four hours past the mid of day, and how much further could I go
this evening, if I were willing that is? I am only a weaver of tales
and not much used to exercise of this sort.
No, the doors of The Silver Ladle swing gently open at my touch, and
even as my weary feet hit the threshold, the bearded bartender grins
my way. His hands deftly grab a mug and as he fills it with a dark
amber ale, he calls out in a friendly tone, "Ho, stranger, and
well met! First one's on the house, friend." My feet seem to dance
to the bar, and even as I take a deep draught, he continues, "I am
Kyle, son of Tabek. Who might you be? Which way do your travels take
you?"
I answer softly, though most of the answers are not vital, and only pass
the time until another traveller, weary of the road as are we all, enters
and Kyle, son of Tabek, goes to serve and greet them. The only true
information I have, is of the caravan a mile away to the south.
It is making it's way here, though slowly, as one of the wagon wheels
is sorely damaged and in need of a smith. This information earns me a
quick refill, of which I was much in need.
Shortly, I am in need of one more ale, this one to sip at my leisure.
After being served, I turn and take a chair at a large round table
with it's center cut out, that lies in the midst of the room. Jutting
forth from it's center is an outcropping of rock. It is a fire pit,
though as yet the logs have not been lit, for it was a warm enough day
eventhough it is still Tarsakh of the Storms,(thank the gods it has
not stormed these last few days). This is obviously the common table,
while along the sides there are a few tables with booths for dining
or discussions of a more private nature.
As I sit, I peruse the other traveller's who have entered and taken
a place at this magnificent treasure of a table.
(Dunz Kann) In walks an imposing figure in chain mail with a shield
held proudly in his hand. On the shield is the symbol of Tyr, the
even-handed. The balanced scales of Justice in bright red. He sits
near me, straight and tall, though he speaks not a word of greeting.
(Fynvola Quain & Zantorax Nightwind) Then in walks an interesting couple.
She with unruly red-gold hair, ivory skin and dancing azure eyes and he
with fiery eyes and shaved head. Together they are dressed fancily, she
with ruffled silk shirts and even he is wearing a blue shirt (a terribly
hard color to find or afford, at least for a man). Women it seem are
spared this high pricing. And in her hands a clarsach(a small harp from
a distant land), a very unique instrument. I wonder would she allow me
to try my hand.
(Jeremiah) Following these two, gracefully enters a fair looking man.
He wears a yellow and red cloak and hanging from a chain is the multi-
colored disk of Lathandar, the MorningLord. He is an impressive sight
and sits along with these others full of grace.
(Malic Daggerfall) And then walks in a slick looking youth with dark
as night black hair and bright green eyes. He slides swiftly to the other
side of me and lounges casually in his chair.
(Shiro Minamoto) Things settle down a bit then all eyes turn to see
a newcomer. He is of medium build with obsidian black hair and bluegreen
slender eyes. It is like looking in the Sea of Swords to hold his gaze.
His hair is worn in a top knot and though all eyes are on him, he moves
swiftly and easily to the bar and asks for sake, a drink that I have
only heard of in distant lands, and yet Kyle takes but a few seconds
to deliver.
And even as I look at them as a whole, I get a peculiar twinge
in my gut that things are moving in the realms and these beings will
somehow be a part and parcel to it all. Yes, it seems these six
will be a group to behold, and perhaps I shall do just that.
What else would a simple storyteller do?
Turn #1 21st of Tarsakh of the Storms
Each of you finds yourself seated at the common table as half an
hour later, the door crashes open and in comes a large built human
bearing a scar from forehead to cheek, intersecting the left eye,
which he does not even bother to patch over. At his belt are
worn a dagger on one side, and dangling on the right is a coiled
whip. His eyes scan the room haughtily and centering on the
round table where you are seated, he scornfully says, "My boss
is looking for a few caravan guards, though there's not a decent
guard among you. None of you look like you ever
knew the meaning of hardwork. Worthless, mangy, whoreson's the
lot of you. Well, who want's the..."
Even while your attention is focused on him, through the door
comes a youth, his neck and face an awful crimson hue that rises
above his worn leathers. He is not tall, nor heavily weighted,
but without even hearing him speak, he draws your attention,
with his bright emerald eyes(though now, they flame nearly red),
and his strong, bold chin. When he does, speak it is soft, the
obvious anger held in check, and just barely loud enough for
you to hear him.
"Ever since Baldur's Gate, you have been trouble. This is the
last straw. Get your stuff. Get out of here!" It is short
and clipped, but the scarred man blanches as he faces the manchild.
After a few seconds, the youth turns his back and steps toward
the table. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle and with
just a slight quiver, does his anger still show through. "My
apologies to you all. Allow me to buy you a round of Tabek's Red."
As the youth motions to the barkeep, you watch as the older
man's hands twitch once, twice, and his face visibly hardens.
He reaches for the whip, and in a flash it is loose and uncoiled,
it's tip lying on the floor behind him.
Malic Daggerfall
(looking at the man) I wouldn't do that if I were you. (looking at the
lad) For what reason would you have to whip a child so severly. For
what I can see he has done nothing wrong.
Fynvola Quain
>Turn #1 21st of Tarsakh of the Storms
Fynvola stands and bows her head but retains eye-contact with the youngster,
"No need for that, good sir! Though your former companion could use a
lesson in manners." She looks past the young man and directs her next words
at the ruffian, "You will find out just how unschooled some of us may or may
not be unless you stop your cowardly attack this instant..." as her hand
slips to her ornate short sword, though she doesn't draw it just yet.
Jeremiah
Standing and moving smoothly forward, Jeremiah walks ahead and to the
side of the confrontation. Drawing the attention of the man with
the whip he holds the man's gaze as he moves to the side. Holding
his hands by his waist, he quietly watches the events unfold.
Dunz Kann
"Hey barkeep! How about a free round on the house for the stranger?"
, the large man in chain hails Kyle while casually rising from his
seat.
"After all, here is a man who has obviously worked hard all day and
could use a cold drink.", he continues while his right hand pulls back
his hood, exposing bright blue eyes and a friendly grin, and his left
hand offers the tankard as he stops short.
"It is better to settle one's differences over a drink rather
than at the end of a whip, would not you agree friend?" His right hand,
never far from his sword's hilt, having slid the large blade free a few
inches for his benefit.
Zantorax Nightwind
Seeing the commotion, I stand, grabbing my staff, and move between the
young man and his former guard. "Now, what are you planning to do with
that?" I ask the brigand...
Shiro Minamoto
I stay seated sipping my sake while watching all that is going on.
A wise warrior waits for the tiger to move then becomes like water
before the claws.
Turn #2
STORYTELLER
I sit still hoping this trouble passes by. As I said before, I am
a storyteller, not a fighter. And luckily there are others who come
to the emerald eyed youth's rescue.
Though there is not much anger present in their responses, some
quickly step forward interposing themselves between the scarred one
and his former employer. The blond haired lad turns with a grin
as he watches the scarred one, a glare in his eyes, rethinks the
situation. He snarls at Dunz's friendly offer, "I want no ale to
share with the likes of you." You all watch as he cracks the whip
against the floor, though none of you think much of the display and
Darrin's laughter at his former hand is infectious as the scarred
one backs out the door, his eyes catching each of you in the glare,
as though he seeks to memorize your every feature.
The lad calls out quickly, "Kyle, Tabek's for all my new friends"
He turns to Fynvola, even as he claps a friendly hand on Dunz's
shoulder, "And yes, it is necessary for me to buy a round. Especially
to make up for his bad manners and now doubly so to express my
gratitude." His emerald eyes twinkle in merriment and he bows to
all with a flourish of his arm, "Well met, friends. I am Darrin."
Storyteller continued...
With that, Darrin motions for another round for all, and as the
bartender, Kyle, begins to set mugs and glasses in front of each
of us, even I your humble teller of tales, Darrin states that he is
impressed with them all and could use their assistance. He says
Waterdeep is but six days away and he is need of more guards for
his wagons.
The terms of agreement:
30 golden lions for each upon arrival at Waterdeep.
free entry to Waterdeep(at festival time this can cost
up to two silver falcons at the gate)
Darrin will also be glad to help everyone pick out an inn
and if it is one which he frequents, he promises to help
get a good rate.
If they are for some reason attacked before Waterdeep,
the group can split all the loot, for he is only
concerned with his cargo.
Even as he speaks, Darrin's eyes keep going back to Fynvola. It is
obvious from his trailing voice, that he is enamoured of her.
Then the door swings open again, and a woman of brilliant yellow
hair enters, lifting the hem of her black gown over the threshold.
Her musical voice calls out Darrin's name, breaking his reverie.
He stands, a startled look on his features, and with a call to the
bartender to set each of you up with dinner, he takes her arm and
like a proper gentleman leads her up the stairs. He pauses only to
glance back and say, I will be right back, please consider my offer."
After a short time Kyle brings you steaming platters of food
and more drink and says knowingly, "What a lad that Darrin is, eh?"
Green turn #3
Dunz Kann
"I am from Waterdeep and will accept his offer as I wish to get back home
for the festival."
The big man, or in actuality the man-child, returns to his seat in a
slightly bemused state. He happily accepts the food and greedily eats it
all, pausing at times to consider something ... "A wise warrior waits for
the tiger to move then becomes like water before the claws." ...
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ... Huh? ...
Fynvola
Fynvola smiles a friendly smile at Darrin, moving back to her seat near
Zantorax.
"Seems a fair enough exchange to me," she smiles once more at their new
employer and surreptuously looks over at Zantorax for his reaction to the
proposal.
Though Fynvola visibly relaxes when Darrin leaves with the golden-haired
girl, her eyes dance with mischief and she *is* clearly flattered by
Darrin's apparent interest.
Malic Daggerfall
(while eating food) I to would like to see this festival mates. (I take
a gulp and then slap the mug on the table) and about this guard
business, It wouldn't be so bad to watch some wagons for a while.
Besides anything would be better than being on a ship right now, says I.
Shiro Minamoto
" Arigato Darrin - san. A most gracious offer. " I partake of the
meal while studying those around me especially the one who calls
himself Zantorax.
Jeremiah
"I too journey to WaterDeep
and would find service to young Darrin acceptable."
"Hail hostler, who was
the woman with the yellow hair, whom Darrin attends to so swiftly?"
Zantorax Nightwind
Not at all impressed with the young man before me, I nonetheless nod my
head. "I will accept your offer, but be warned, that's my betrothed you're
drooling over." I then look at Fynvola and let out a deep belly-laugh
befitting my size...
Fynvola
Fynvola smiles coquettishly at Zantorax and winks at him, then turns her
attentions back to the group.
Bartender Kyle, son of Tabek
As Darrin seemingly ignores your questions as he escorts the blond
woman upstairs, the bartender calls out to the company..."Hear now, hear
now. I can be of assistance. I've known Darrin since he was a little
tyke traveling this very trade route with his father Anders Miyar. Who?
That's Zorl Miyar's brother that is." Quite a few blank faces look at
the bearded barkeep, and throwing his hands in the air, he continues, his
voice tinged with exasperation, "Who is Zorl Miyar? How can you not
know? True the trading has been hard these past two years what with
the bloodshed at Dragonspear Castle, but this is dire indeed. He heads
the merchant's guild out of Baldur's Gate. How true the rumors then?
It has been said that with the recent competition, the League has serious
monetary problems. This makes the first trade caravan of the season
so important then.
"As for the lad, when his father, gods receive him well, passed on
nearly five years ago, Darrin approached his uncle and convinced him
that he could move the cargo safely along this trade route. And he
does. There is likely not to be any trouble, 'tween here and Waterdeep.
"Now the fair-haired lady, I know naught of her, though doesn't mean
that I shant fore the evenin' is gone. But I would clearly say that
she isn't the type to take hold of that lad's heart.
"Cargo. Well, the League is said to deliver whatever the customer
has a desire for, as long as it isn't illegal, though there isn't much
will fall under that category anyway. From here they always take some
of the ale to Waterdeep to sell at festival, and then on the way back
they take more home for some of the inns and taverns in Baldur's Gate.
Spices, knickknacks, rare beasties at times. And like I said, if a
customer has a special order, The Merchant League will find and deliver
it, for a price...
He stops speaking all of a sudden and cups his ear with his hand.
"Ach, that'll be Darrin now, though not with the pretty lass, I warrant."
With that he steps back to the bar, though you neither see nor hear
Darrin approaching down the stairs, until a few seconds later. But than
this barkeep, Kyle, must know every creak and it's portent.
Darrin returns to the table after snatching up a tankard of
ale. "Well, I can see you all enjoyed the food," he says as he
takes note of the empty platters lying around the table, two of
which are lying in close proximity to Dunz. As he slips into the
seat next to the big man, Dunz leans over and a quick whisper is
exchanged between them.
After that is taken care of, Darrin grins and says to all, "To
answer your questions, my new friends, the cargo is none to precious,
though the most precious in my mind is the Tabek's Red, and yet
I need the extra guards because we have to split the caravan by a
day's ride. The bulk of the wagons will go on ahead of us, while
we escort one wagon and a carriage."
Then Darrin chuckles to hear mention of the blond beauty. "No,
She is my cousin and although we are very close, she is nothing
more than my uncle's daughter, Zeptha. It is for her we even brought
a carriage. I will supply horses... though if you prefer, I need
two drivers as well."
Darrin's eyes catch Zantorax and he inclines his head ever so
slightly towards the other. Softly he speaks, "I had no idea the
two of you were close...I, uh, I will keep my distance. Forgive
my...drooling as you are inclined to call it."
"And food will be provided, though you all are welcome to shoot
any wild game you can to spice up the meals. I would appreciate a
good change after almost a month on the road..." Darrin trails off
as the door open again and all sense a chilling prescense.
Another elf stands in the doorway, his obsidian black skin and
hair, and eyes of diamond white, piercing the establishment's calm
atmosphere.
All eyes follow as the Drow strides quickly towards Darrin.
DUNZ KANN
"I can ride. But if you prefer that I be nearer to whatever/whomever
that I am guarding, I can ride next to the driver."
With eyes wide at the sight of a drow elf, the warrior hesitates before
coming to his feet with his sword half way out of its sheath before fully
erect.
ZANTORAX NIGHTWIND
Not liking the abruptness of this man's arrival, and knowing tales of
the drow from my studies of the arcane, I stand and move to intercept the
approaching Drow. My staff comes up accross my body, ready for trouble,
just in case. "Can I help you, sir?" My tone is calm, almost casual, and
I meet the dark-skinned man's eyes unflinching...
Never taking my fiery red eyes away from the diamond coloured Drow's I
turn my head slightly and say over my shoulder to Darrin. "If this keeps
up I may have to charge you for an exra night's body-guarding. But
seriously, we should talk in private after we are done here. And by the
way, do you know this man?" My tone is somewhere between good-natured
joviality, and serious buisness....
FYNVOLA QUAIN
At the sight of the dark-skinned elf, Fynvola leaps to her feet and moves
dexterously to Darrin's side, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She
doesn't allow her eyes to leave the dark elf but she flirtatiously replies
to Darrin "We're not *married*, Darrin. Do you have a palomino horse
that I might ride? I've never actually ridden a palomino horse before..."
her voice is light and excited. Only the harder light in her eyes as she
watches the drow belies the innocent, almost child-like air of her voice.
ZANTORAX NIGHTWIND
Upon hearing Fynvola's bubbly words to Darrin I barely manage to conceal
a grin. My thoughts are only momentarily distracted though, and my red
irised, electric blue eyes never leave the Drow's Diamond coloured ones.
A small fireball bursts from my hand, rises about a foot, then burns
itself out. My hairless brow lowers, meant to indicate to the Drow that
my attention is fully with him, and that the small display was just a
warning...
JEREMIAH
SHIRO MINAMOTO
I rise smoothly from my seat at the sight of the rare drow presence and
know that no puny display of magic by us is any threat to even one of his
kind. " Do'Urdan! Quefirre soora kan izzt? " I greet him in his native
tongue my words edged with a slight Kara-Tur accent. I switch smoothly to
common, " Konbanwa brave one. It has been many a year since I last met one
of your kind. Even we of Kara-Tur have heard of your famous fighting skills
and magic." (ojigi warrior bow of respect). " Dozo ( please ), forgive my
impudent friends who are quick to react to one such as you. forgive them
for their rashness and please join us for a cup of elverquisst,
hai ( yes )? " I offer in token respect and await his reply.
ZANTORAX NIGHTWIND
After hearing Shiro's response, I let out a slight, wry smile.
MALIC DAGGERFALL
Hello mate. As you can see, if you have come here for trouble you've
come to the wrong place, for only a fool would think he could get away
with it. But, if not please have a drink with us. I'll buy the next
round. And don't mind my companions they are a bit jumpy these days.
Green Turn #4 Who is this Drow?
You all watch in wonder as the drow turns toward Shiro and bows
towards him in return, his eyes barely glancing at Zantorax's display.
He then turns back to Darrin and whispers softly, "Interesting friends
you seem to have picked up in this bar. A mage, I guess you would call
him and even a cleric of Lathandar," he sneers his eyes alighting down
upon Jeremiah.
"Yeah, and I was just getting to know them, when you gotta make your
usual entrance. You sure know how to spoil a good time," Darrin says
with a chuckle. You can all hear him mumble, "...not married, eh?" Darrin
shakes his head and continues aloud, "This is Tag, everyone. He's my
friend. Don't mind him being snotty," he continues with a huge grin.
The dark elf, ignoring Darrin's last remarks, looks past everyone and
taking a deep breath, begins completely ignoring everyone else in the bar,
"The smith reports that the wheel will be repaired by noon tomorrow,
Darrin. I can only make five more miles at the most tonight." As you
watch, the obsidian face cracks just a tiny bit with frustration, as he
continues, "Perhaps I and the others should just wait up for you, and we
will all continue tomorrow."
Quickly Darrin moves to the side of his friend, "Have I chosen that
badly for my new friends?"
Tag's eyes glare at each of the companions, lingering briefly on each
one and then his eyes resting on Fynvola, he answers his friend, "No...of
course not. But, perhaps your judgement is clouded by..."
Darrin puts his arm around Tag's shoulder familiarly and says, "Tag,
we have to make sure the main cargo gets to Waterdeep on schedule, and
this couple hour delay has already set us back. No need to wait for me.
Heck, we will probably catch up to you." As he says this, the emerald
eyed, blond haired youth, physically turns the dark one towards the door
and begins to guide him away. You can hear him say softly, "This is
plenty of extra guards for one wagon and Zep's carriage. Come on. I'll
help you finish loading and see you over the bridge."
At the doorway, Darrin turns and says to all, "The common room is on
me tonight. I'm afraid if you wanted a private room, my cousin Zeptha is
already using it. I will meet all of you out front around noon." You
watch as his hand reaches into a worn leather pouch and you see the
flicker of gold in his palm. He tosses the coin in the air towards the
storyteller, whose hand flickers quickly in the air and the coin disappears
faster than it had appeared into the folds of the storyteller's robe.
Darrin calls out, "A little entertainment for my friends, eh old one."
And with that the unlikely pair head out the door.
Storyteller on Dwarven Plight
You wish a sad story tonight, eh. One that will make the women
weep and seek the comfort of strong arms in the night. Such a story
I have to tell:
The Dwarves in long ago history were once a mighty race of
hill and mountain, and their weapons and artifacts were wondrous to
behold. But now not much is known of their homelands and kingdoms,
yet I will tell you what I can.
Before the dragons controlled the lands of Cormyr and the Sunrise
Mountains began to spout flames and steam, the Dwarves were a mighty
and numerous race. And then the wars began to take their toll, wars
with orc and goblin and the settling of the Dragons in Cormyr, and now
the Dwarven nation is dwindling in stature and size. No more are their
wondrous cities amongst the caverns freely visited. Nay, for the most
part their communities are kept hidden and secret, small kingdoms hidden
from the larger world. Little is known of the Dwarves of the Far Hills
except that they travel to the East to trade their few precious wares.
And forgotten also are the enemy occupied holds of Hammer Hall, and the
Iron House, those dwarves who had been driven out of the Mines of
Tethyamar.
However, even as these tales come from the North, there is talk
of a great Dwarvish kingdom to the South, beyond the Vilhon Reach.
There, a mighty chasm greater than Cormyr in size is supposedly rent in
the ground and poised on the rim of that canyon are the towers of the
city of Eastheart, while within the walls of the chasm is a huge Dwarven
nation called Underholme. There is tell that these southern dwarves
are not as dour and taciturn as their northern fellows. In fact they
are said to be prouder, more haughty, and more energetic.
These great losses of land and life have made the dwarves leave
the sanctity of their hallowed mountains and seek a life of trade and
adventure in the open world, there to attempt to make a mark on history
that will not fade as their race is so doing.
GREEN RESPONSES TO TURN #4
ZANTORAX
Seeing that the drow knows Darrin I slap myself in the head and laugh.
"You should have said something Tag. I almost zapped you, your just lucky I
decided not to step on you when you decided to walk around me. I take the
job of bodyguard VERY seriously, unlike others in this fool company." My
eyes go to Shiro, then to Malic and I shake my head in disgust. I then sit,
back to a wall, and think for a bit, shaking my head frequently. Any
attempts to disturb me fail although my eyes are open and take in everything
around me.
After the bard's tale I look at him, "honoured sir, I thank you for your
tale, for you honour us with the telling." I toss him a gold then turn to
Fynvola.
"Fyn, I'm going for a run." I take off my boots and hand them to her. "Can
you take care of these for me?" Knowing her as I do I do not wait for her
answer. I strap my staff to my backpack, then place it on my back and walk
out of the inn. Outside I start a fast jog and head down the street.
FYNVOLA QUAIN
More than a little awed by the events of the evening, Fynvola sinks into her
chair once again. "We didn't handle that very well at all, did we?" she
asks no one in particular as she motions for the server to bring her a glass
of wine. She then turns rapt attention onto the storyteller, losing herself
for a time in his words.
When his tale ends, she looks at him wide-eyed and asks earnestly, "We all
shared these lands once, dwarves and humans and elves. Why did we not
unite against the threats? Goblins, orcs and even dragonkind could surely
not have defeated all in unison...could they?"
DUNZ KANN
Seeing that the dark elf is not a threat to himself, the warrior slides his
blade into its sheath, but remains standing throughout the conversation.
He then picks a corner of the room, away from any doors/windows, to bed
down for the night. He settles in for the story and softly replies to
Fynvola's question left hanging. ... "They had no faith."
His right hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the warrior eventually
drifts off into the land of dreams.
JEREMIAH
"It seems that we will likely journey together tomorrow and serve to guard the
person and property of this Darrin. While I have no experience at this trade, I
would cast my skills together with yours and travel the path to Waterdeep with
each of you."
"I know little of a traveler's life, or of caravans and guards. I have led a
simple life in the Tower of the Morn in Elversult. While I know not what
tommorrow may bring, I do sense a fittingness and confidence in the presence of
this group. For good or ill, I welcome the opportunity to travel with each of
you."
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