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Monthly Archives: February 2014

The Travels of Ranliss Falaron: Entry 1

Ranliss Day 1

This small booklet is only slightly too big to fit in a coat pocket.  The covers are cheap wood, sturdy enough to be a traveler’s journal, and the pages are rough parchment.  Water stains on the edges of the pages suggest that the owner takes the journal with him everywhere.

Today has been more than a little unusual.  Sylvir and I have been staying at an inn between jobs, and we had decided to take a break from the constant excitement of risking life and limb.  Excitement seems to have found us, however.  A young woman got into trouble at one of the card tables in the common room of the tavern.  Judging from the shouted accusations, she was cheating.  Sylvir got involved, using her magic to defend the young woman, which of course means that I had to get involved to defend Sylvir.  No one was seriously injured, thankfully.  I doubt the City Watch would take kindly to outsiders cutting up the locals, and no one could really blame me for disarming a man wielding a broken bottle, even if I did so by shattering the bottle further, resulting in a bloody hand on the part of the thuggish fool.  A parry at the hilt seems to work even better against bottles than against swords.

The rather dramatic tableau of swordsman, witch, and cheat against several thick-necked lowlifes was interrupted by a man looking to hire adventurers on behalf of his employer.  He had a good enough eye for talent to recognize experts when he saw them; he had witnessed impressive feats of legerdemain the woman, a thief by the name of Belladonna, and having seen her at work now, I am impressed by his keen eye.  Sylvir’s talents for arctic spellcraft are obvious enough, and he even recognized a stop hit when I used the technique.  Our newly-acquired benefactor seems to have a gift for hiring extremely competent help.

I seem to be getting ahead of myself.  We have been hired by a merchant by the name of Thorgrim Okrisson, a rather charming dwarf, who wishes us to rid a nearby mine of the creatures currently inhabiting it.  In addition to Sylvir and myself, he is also securing the services of Belladonna, the card-cheat, to serve as the party’s thief.  She assures us that she is capable of opening locks and disarming traps, and given her skill with sleight of hand, I am inclined to believe her.  Our healer is a dour hobgoblin named Doruk War-Bringer, some sort of battle priest from the hobgoblin settlement at the Twin Shields fortress.  I have not been there, but from what I hear, the residents of the stronghold are superb warriors.  Joining me in the role of melee warriors is the largest human I have ever met, a fellow called Lug.  The scar along his forehead makes it obvious why he speaks the way he does; I fear that he has had his brains scrambled.  However, he is a rather friendly sort, and given that he has to be at least five stone heavier and a full head taller than the largest warrior I’ve ever faced, I predict that he will do the job perfectly well.

Our payment is to be in silver bars as well as a selection of armaments from Mr. Okrisson’s personal collection.  I have my eye on a sword I spied in a display case.  The maker’s mark identifies the swordsmith as none other than Tahlnah Cyread, the legendary duelist-turned-smith.  Even if the blade is one of his earlier, less-exquisite pieces, it will certainly be far superior to anything I have ever carried.

 

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Belladonna’s Big Book of Banditry: Entry 1

“Belladonna’s Big Book of Banditry?” I think not, unless stealing a woman’s pretty diary and writing in it after ripping out the pages written by the woman counts as banditry, though I wouldn’t really call myself a bandit even then. I just couldn’t seem to be able to think of another word for adventure beginning with the letter B.

As much as I enjoy travelling, the fun wears thin when the travelling goes on too long. Flying free would be better if there were a nest to fly back to occasionally. This life of mine is so difficult. Though I managed to get the High Pass guards off my back after being seen stealing a fruit early in the morning today, I seem to be getting myself into yet more trouble.

Tired as I was of all the hiding, I decided to take a little time off at an inn nearby. As I walked in, I couldn’t help but notice a young nobleman sitting in the corner playing cards with numerous patrons, defeating each of them one by one and robbing them of their coin. I say robbing because I know when a man has an ace hidden up his sleeve, both metaphorically and, such as this man, literally. Well, since I also carry a few tricks up my sleeve, I decided it was time the tricky scoundrel was also robbed of all his stolen fortune. Oh and how his face turned red with fury when he lost all his fortune to me. He didn’t expect to lose to a woman, so I made him pay for underestimating me with his ill-gotten wealth. I shall never be able to wipe the memory of him yelling at me, saying I was cheating. He never stated how I was cheating as I believe he never discovered my methods. The sweet taste of victory did not last long, however, as the bastard had a Plan B in case his cheating failed. It wasn’t until then that I noticed three bulky men sitting on a table very close to where the bastard was sitting. I wouldn’t have thought that the bastard was a noble with bodyguards. Even though they were a foot or two taller than me, I refused to hand over the coin I earned with much effort and my sleight of hand. It did not belong to him, it belonged to the people he robbed the coin off of, and that was exactly where it would be returning to.

Thankfully, while I was trying to convince the men, a witch seated within the inn hurried to my rescue, freezing the feet of big man standing right in front of me, making way for my escape. I didn’t plan on sticking long, but I was thrown back into the inn, on a table. And yes, that quite hurt. Due to my dizziness, I don’t quite remember all the details, but what I do remember is waking up to a man who not only did away with the nobleman and his lackeys, but also decided he wanted to hire me, along with the Witch and her companion, both of whom are of elven origin.

The man, if only I could remember his name, hired us also gave us rooms to stay. I met up with the remaining members of the party. There’s a big human, called Lug, who looks somewhat stupid. HE YELL AND SPEAK LIKE DIS. IT KINDA FUNNY. I do not understand the reason why he acts and speaks the way he I does. Quite possibly, it has something to do with the big scar on his forehead. I wonder where he got that. The other members include some guy named “War-bringer,” which, I can’t say I like very much. He meant to be a healer, but he’s a hob-goblin. I do not know why but I do not like the sound of that. And then there is the elf maiden that saved my hide, Sylvir, along with her companion, Ranliss. Sylvir seems somewhat shy. I’m supposed to be sharing my room when her, but she’s just been staring out the window for I do not know how long, so it seems as if I were the only person in this room. I would like to admit that it was brave of her to step in to save me. But, I’m not sure what I have done to make her furious enough to not speak to me at all. And her companion, Ranliss, seems like he’s ready to die defending Sylvir. I think that’s both a good thing as well as a bad thing.

Only time will tell what happens tomorrow. I look forward to clearing that mine.

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Posted by on February 24, 2014 in Belladonna's Big Book of Banditry

 

Journal of Doruk War-Bringer: Entry 1

The journal of Doruk War-Bringer is a simple leather-bound book.  It is remarkably battered, and has an arrow hole through the front cover and the first dozen pages.

It has been sixteen days since the deaths of Jorun and Kommak. The rest of the mercenaries decided to disband after the deaths of their leaders. Were we still in the fortress of the Twin Shields, I would accuse them of cowardice unbefitting of a hobgoblin, but here in High Pass, there are no hobgoblin officers to hear such an accusation, and so I was forced to let them go with nothing worse than a promise to report them should my travels take me back to our ancestral home.

Luckily, work seems to have found me. I had planned to spend another week before returning to the life of an adventurer, but an offer of employment has been made. A local merchant by the name of Thorgrim Okrisson, an elderly dwarf, wished a local iron mine cleared of the monstrous creatures inhabiting it. He has assembled a team, and his skill in acquiring people with the necessary skills for an adventuring group leads me to suspect that the old dwarf is either extremely crafty, or a retired adventurer himself.

The other members of the group seem rather unreliable, but I will give them the chance to prove me wrong. Our trapspringer is a human calling herself Belladonna. I am unsure whether she is named for the old human word meaning beautiful woman, or the old word for the plant Deadly Nightshade. I am almost positive that she is a common criminal, but I suppose I cannot complain, assuming she has the skills to breach any security measures we encounter. Our frontline warrior is an enormous lout. I am fairly certain that this Lug fellow is mentally handicapped. I am uncomfortable trusting in him to protect the rest of us. Thankfully, the swordman Ranliss should be competent enough to act as a failsafe measure, should Lug prove to be too dim-witted to do his job. I expect Ranliss to focus on protecting his partner, the elf witch Sylvir, but that is acceptable. I believe they may be romantically entangled, but I am unsure. He seems very protective of her. My ancestors would disapprove of teaming up with a pair of elves, and would be furious that one is a spellcaster, but these are unusual times, and hobgoblins must adapt if we are to remain strong.

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