Teal through the first day.
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.
(ANDREW) Almost right behind me is a young human of average height with
deep green eyes, under a mop of brown hair. He wears leathers and a
white tunic and quickly peruses the residents of the inn and then chooses
a seat near me.
(CLAVEL BLUEHEART) Behind him, enters a man with coal black hair and dark
blue eyes that pierce whomever his gaze rests upon. He sits quickly on my
other side and impatiently his hand drums the table top as if waiting for
some great occurence.
(VALIMAR MORNINGMIST) The door opens again and another human enters,
cleanshaven with shoulder length jet black hair. He wears common
enough clothes and as he walks towards the table his azure eyes catch
mine for but a second before he sits and relaxs.
(ALMAR ZIR) Next enters an elf, light on his feet, and a twinkle in
his eyes. He glances casually about him and then lands a spot
unobtrusively at the table.
(CRAELAN STORMBORNE) Soon after in walks a human, tall and lean, with
shoulder length black hair, and eyes as grey as a wolf. He looks strong
and well able to care for himself, his hand resting on the hilt of his
sword.
(METHOS WARCHILD) And thinner by far, a wild elf enters the establishment
next, a bow slung over his shoulder, and a weary look in his eye. Light
footed he takes his place at the table, pulling his hood down, revealing
his brown hair braided for battle
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. Dwarves and gnomes, and no elf 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.
TEAL SQUADRON RESPONSES TO TURN #1
METHOS WARCHILD
At the first sign of attack from the scarred man, Methos grabs a bowl
from the table, and lobs it above the head of the manchild toward the
scarrd man. At the same time, he shouts, "Attack from the rear" to
the manchild. Then he will stand and move to the side of the table,
wanting to witness the power of this manchild, drawing his sword and
dagger at the same time in case things get out of hand.
ANDREW
Andrew cries "watch out" and, watching closely the elf's actions,(he has
never seen an elf before, much less a wild one ), he stands up and
searches for his dagger, getting ready for action.
SIR CLAVEL BLUEHEART
Sir Clavel Blueheart reacts very swiftly to the threat. Hearing the
others already giving warnings, he merely tosses the boy his dagger,
"Here! Catch."
Clavel then steps away from the table, giving himself a clear
unobstructed view of the whip-wielding man. He mumbles something under
his breath, unsheathes his long sword, and prepares himself for the
mans reactions. Will the boy be attacked?
CRAELAN STORMBORNE
Craelan, at the first sign of sourness, upon the scarred mans face draws
two daggers, the first he places on the table in front of him, with his
left hand. the second remains in his right hand, ready for a throw. Just
as his companions begin throwing things he says..
2 scarred man- " now ya see yer in for a fight, think quick or we'll
test yer luck!"
ALMAR ZIR
Almar leaps to his feet and begins to draw a bastard sword from its
scabbard, stopping when 3-4 inches of steel are showing - enough to let
this fellow know the consequences of that whip coming his way.
VALIMAR MORNINGMIST
Valimar sensing trouble quickly move into a safe corner of the bar.
(There he will watch the confrontation and intervene when the
confrontation turns ugly). Valimar waits patiently for the outcome of
the confrontation.
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 much anger in the group and drawing of
blades as they shout out warnings and throw objects at the scarred one,
it is the sharp voices of Methos and Andrew who yell "Watch out!"
that gets the youth to step quickly to the side even as the whip
is started forward. And perhaps it is the imposing figures of several of
the group stepping up to him, or the number of people shouting warnings
that perhaps convinces the scarred one to rethink the situation.
He turns haughtily, as though he fears none of these people, but why run
then is my only thought. The young man laughingly turns and begins to
thank each of them. He does not even appear shaken and softly he says,
"Well, it is what I should have expected of that scoundral." He reaches
out a hand to Clavel and says, "No. Do not give chase, my brother. He
is not worth it, and I tell you honestly that he is nothing but a
craven coward, and there truly is no price on his head." With that he
leans in close to Clavel and whispers something in his ear.
The young man, calling himself Darrin, orders 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. He says Waterdeep is but six days away and he is
in 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.
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.
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?"
Teal turn 2 responses
METHOS
After returning his sword and dag into their shealths, and regaining
his chair, Methos takes a big swig of ale, wiping his mouth with the
back of his shirt sleeve. "Since we have not been properly introduced,
I am called Methos, an elf who has travelled many miles in search of
adventure. It would be an honor to be in league with such hearty
adventures such as yourselves. This Darrin lad has provided us with
a tempting offer, one which I advise we accept. There will be adventure
on the road, and if we're lucky, we may come out with our lives and
some loot. Either way, it may make this whole trip worthwhile."
ANDREW
Andrew sheathes his dagger and sits down. Then he asks Kyle: "do you know
him? has he ever been here before?"
then, after Kyle's answer he adresses the others and says:"I am called
Andrew, humble server of Mystra" ( he shows the goddess' symbol with
reverence and pryde ). "Who are you, travellers???"
CRAELAN
Craelan sheathes his daggers and tips up his mug. Having finished his
drink. he surveys the room, at the same time he begins to talk to all
listening: " I am Craelan Stormborne, the offer sounds tempting, I am in
need of some travel and hopefully battle.
Though I believe a group has been formed here this day, and I would like
to see what we, together may accomplish. So if you are all in agreeance
perhaps we should make a group decision."
With that he motions for a drink to replace the last, and removes a
small leather strap from about his wrist and ties back his semi-clean,
raven hair. Speaks again: " though perhaps someone here has heard of a
better offer, or a different challenge?"
CLAVEL
Sir Clavel Blueheart seems to be preoccupied. He listens to the others
exchanging greetings. He nods curtly to them, "Well met. I see we share
the same feelings toward ruffians."
Seemingly in a hurry, he forgets to introduce himself. You seem him walk
up to the barkeep and order something to drink.
ALMAR ZIR
Almar replaces his sword in it's sheath, returns to his seat, mumbles
something under his breath and makes several brief gestures with his
hands while glancing over his shoulder.
Turning his attention back to the table he says, "Well met, good
fellows. I am Almar Zir, hailing from the Woods of Sharp Teeth, near
Baldur's Gate. I left my tribe to travel the lands of Faerun and I am
currently en route to The City of Splendors. If we band together I
believe we can all travel quickly and safely to Waterdeep."
Almar picks lightly at the food placed in front of them.
DM
In response to Andrew's question of Kyle, the barkeep. Here is what he
knows of Darrin.
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.
ANDREW
Andrew looks directly to Almar Zir and says: "Excuse me good sir. You are
an elf, aren't you? Is it true your race is very skilled in the ways of
magic?? And is it true elves are pratically immortal? I read about this in a
old book my late master gave me once, but I didn't believe it".
Then he waits patiently for Almar Zir answer. His hunger of knowledge
gleaming in his green eye.
CLAVEL
You notice that Sir Blueheart has been conferring with the barkeep for
sometime now. The delicious smells of the served food waft into the air.
It seems that they have peaked Clavels hunger for he returns to the
table and takes a seat. Smiling at the others he lifts a glass of wine
into the air and salutes them, "Dine well, friends. May your stomachs
always be full and your thirst slaked with excellent wine."
Teal Turn 3
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. "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 this lass of his, "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."
"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.
Responses to Teal turn 3 Entrance of the Drow
CRAELAN
Craelan steps to his feet and away from the table. A hand straying to the hilt of his
long sword, another to a dagger at his belt, though he doesn't draw either. He merely
stands ready, watching the scene unfold.
If the Drow turns out to be friendly, Craelans hands will return to
normal positions and after greeting the drow he will return to his
place, and have another big drink!!
ANDREW
Andrew is awed with the dark, mysterious stranger, he stands up, so he
will be ready if any action occurs. He waits for any sign of hostility
from the drow, and says to the others: "Take it easy, friends. Let's see
if this is not one our new employer's servants. He seems to choose them
well, remember the fellow with the whip????".
Andrew keeps standing up, ready for reacting if any harm comes to his new
employer.
ALMAR ZIR
"Thou art wise, Andrew. Let us lead with our mouths instead of our
swords", say Almar as he rises from his seat and moves quickly to step
between Darrin and the dark skinned fellow.
With the biggest smile he can muster Almar says, "Greetings, friend.
Won't you join us at the table for some fine drink and food?"
METHOS
Methos stands to the side, wanting to get a better view of this meeting
between the Drow and Darrin. Although he has much distrust for Drow,
he has learned many times not to judge anyone merely by their race.
No need to be pulling out swords at the first sign of a stranger.
CLAVEL
Clavel watches the drow with interest. He doesn't seem a bit worried. He
continues to drink his wine comfortably, pushing his chair slightly away
from the table to watch the unfolding scene.
VALIMAR
Valimar's attention is suddenly focussed on the drow that had just enter.
This is is first time he had ever seen a drow. Question are spinning
wildly in his head as Valimar try to guess what is actually happening.
He waits patiently for any sign of trouble from the taproom.
Turn 4 Who is that Drow?
You all hold your breath as the dark skinned one, comes to a stop
a hairsbreadth from Almar. His eyes gaze through him and he doesn't
make any acknowledgement that he has even spoken to or about him.
His voice harsh and cutting through the calm atmosphere, he sneers
directly to Darrin, "Are these who you have decided to hire?"
"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. 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 Clavel, 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.
(
geocities.com/timessquare)