Siege Of Bordrin's Watch

Jemal · May 8, 2009

The day pressed on, inexorable as only time can be. People all across the city dealt with the news of the impending invasion in as many ways as there were stars in the sky... and through it all the shadow known as Michelle drifted. Flitting from bar to street corner, pub to smithy, even home to home she went, unseen and unheard.

She stopped to watch the dwarven captain's speech, melting out of the shadows for the first time in hours, and folding her arms as she leaned against the wall, a grin on her face. It had been so long since she'd had a real fight - Dwarves were good for a brawl, but they did tend to get upset when one started to fling flame and bolts of eldritch energy around.
As she chuckled, thinking of the dwarf who'd chased her around with a still smoldering beard a few weeks back, Michelle saw the Jackal creeping away, a look on its face, a sadness in its eyes as though it were remembering.

This was no ordinary housepet, she knew, and once more the Shadow was off, drifting across the street once more unseen to follow this new oddity.

Velmont · May 8, 2009

"Lost Ones... damned hot headed kids." Chris kneels down and raise the sleeve of the leader. He looks a moment at the tattoo on the arm of the young man. "At least, they all still breath, there rank won't grow thin... at least in long term. They might need a rest for a day and they will come back wiser. Sorry for the trouble it might brought, but that one wanted to stab me and it is something I don't take. Even less than being insulted."

He then take a moment to look at the elf. Feeling no hostility in his demeanor he replies "I was taking an ale as they come in. I did nothing more than sitting there to have the great chance to get attacked. That's the problem of my kind. Some humans only see the orc in us. And with the war that is coming, I think I'll get even more of that kind of

over my head."

Insight · May 8, 2009

Gloomblade the Wanderer, Half-Orc Brutal Scoundrel Rogue

Trouble walked through the still-swinging pine doors of the Salty Mug. A brusk, powerful, snake-eyed Half-Orc dressed in black leathers strode into the place like he owned it. Gloomblade the Wanderer, a name he had acquired while incarcerated, took survey of the place. It was no different than the dozens of others bars he'd seen on the frontier. He adjusted his shortsword, made sure his daggers, thowing knives, and whip were as visible as possible, and made his way to a seat at the front.

Waiting for the barmaid, the Half-Orc spun halfway in his seat, still watching the tail end of some sort of brawl. He smirked, eyeing the style and skill of a fellow half-breed. When Gloomblade finally got the attention of the barmaid, a Human lass named Sessie, he cracked a winsome, wry, and self-effacing smile, ordered a tall whiskey, and watched the other Half-Orc back to his seat elsewhere along the bar counter.

"Nice work," Gloomblade said as he took the first sip of his somewhat stale whiskey. "Ever think of working in a slaughterhouse?" Gloomblade took another sip and awaited what he expected would be a mundane comeback of some sort.

DEFCON 1 · May 8, 2009

The cart weaves its way through the streets of Middle City, and Captain Forgeheart's announcement continues unabated. He had been at it for several hours now, moving from district to district, making sure there wasn't a single soul who didn't hear what he had to say. Thus far, the dwarf has had numerous people come up to the cart to gather more information, and the militia captain has been happy to pass on the smaller bit of detail that he knows.

"Keep us on it, Jess," says the Captain to the man who sits in the cart's seat with a hand on the reins. "I want to make it to the Inner City by sundown." The driver nods in understanding and urges the horse forward, and Durkik Forgeheart looks out over the few people remaining on the road in Forgeworks. I wonder how many of these people will actually come? he thinks to himself as the rumble of wheels on cobblestones echoes up the street. As much as he has always seen the dutiful obedience of Overlook's townsfolk when times like these have occured, he can never be too sure.

The one person he is sure about, though, is the elf who sits on the back edge of the cart's tailgate. It's been two hours since he silently came up and plopped himself down on the cart, and he's ridden with him all throughout the city since then. Durkik doesn't know why he's here... or more to the point why he stays here... as Durkik's made it quite clear that the meeting of all volunteers would be in two days time at High Hall. However, when he's reminded the elf of this fact, he's only received a blank stare in response.

As his curiousity gets the better of him, and with a lull in the journey until the cart makes it's way into the Inner City, Captain Forgeheart decides to find out just who this stranger is, and what he's hoping to have happen.

"Been a fun ride down there, man?" the dwarf says to the elf from up upon his dais in the cart. "Thinking of joining us up at the Watch are you? We can use every strong arm we can get." He looks out into the streets again for a moment, then returns his gaze to the elf. "Don't have a job, I take it? Able to spend an afternoon just riding around the city. No problems with that, man. But just know that we're not going back to Caer Overlook tonight... we'll be ending the ride at the Ministry of War. You'll have to make your way to High Hall yourself. But you're welcome to stay with us here through the evening at the very least. Jess and I can always use the company, eh?"

DEFCON 1 · May 8, 2009

Michelle silently follows the collared canine as it pads away from the dwarven cart. For the next hour or so, the shadowy wisp of a woman cannot help but sate her curiosity as she watches the jackal make its way throughout the city. It comes as a surpise however, when the creature eventually ducks into an alley behind a closed blacksmith shop, and immediately an elven woman wearing the selfsame leather collar steps out after. Very curious indeed.

Gala eventually finds herself back at the Salty Mug and enters the tavern for a quick drink. Michelle remains outside, standing in the shadow of a clothier whose wares look dingy and used. She ponders the decision for several moments, and then subsequently sees a string of five enter the pub. First a halfork of some imposing size, then a trio of arrogant and foolhardy young men, followed finally by a second halfork, this one perhaps even bigger than the first!

Leave it to Tradetown to bring all the ne'er-do-wells together in one place, Michelle thinks to herself. And there she stands, waiting to determine what her curiosity leads her to next.

DEFCON 1 · May 8, 2009

Krunk watches the halfork pull up the sleeve of one of the young men, and he sighs when he sees the snake tattoo. Great. Just what he needed.

"Sorry for the trouble it might brought, but that one wanted to stab me and that is something I don't take. Even less than being insulted."

Krunk shrugs at the halfork and walks over to the first of the three unconscious forms, hoisting it up onto his shoulder. "I gotta take out the trash. Take the bar for a moment, won't you Sessie?" The hobgoblin then turns and strides to the front door to drop the body into the street.

Sessie moves behind the counter and pours a whiskey for the second halfork that found its way here. Being a tavern run by a hobgoblin, the Salty Mug was a favorite of the humanoid types within Overlook, and it was not unusual to have two of Gruumsh' brood within. "Another whiskey for you?" Sessie asks the imposing form of Gloomblade, as they both watch the brawler move over to speak to an elf at one of the other tables. "We have another brand available if you want to spend the extra coppers for it."

Keia · May 8, 2009

Warrick Steel, Male Elven Ranger/Avenger

Warrick Steel

Warrick sat on the edge of the cart, watching as the call went out. The Captain had traveled from district to district and the elf had barely moved. He watched as people came to the captain with questions . . . questions in their eyes, questions in their hearts. Warrick never looked at them, he didn't need to . . . he heard the concern, the emotion. If he had looked, the ranger wasn't certain that he would even see their faces. It would be other faces he would likely see . . . it wouldn't do to lose control . . . after all, there was a horde coming.

Only once on the journey did Warrick even turn his head. At the side of the wagon there was a change in the shadows . . . the shadows were not as natural as they had been a moment before. The elf knew something was about to happen, his eyes scanned the crowd, noting townsfolk and even a spotted dog of some kind, children watching the wagon, a bird landing on a sign depicting a tankard on his side, liquid spilling out. His had edged to the blade at his side . . . and the darkness was normal. He had been seeing things, things that go bump in the night. After that, Warrick just stayed on the cart, waiting . . . wondering if the darkness would return, or if it truly was his imagination.

It had been a few minutes of quiet . . . and by quiet, there was still the sound of cart wheels on cobblestones . . . before the captain standing above him cleared his throat and Warrick could sense the dwarf's eyes were upon him. This was a difference clearing than when he started his speech, and the elf wasn't surprised when the dwarf started speaking to him.

"I'll be there, Captain," Warrick offered quietly to the captain. His voice was loud enough, though it seemed like the elf strained to even make it that loud. "Half expected trouble . . . should have known better, good people here," the elf offered simply, speaking from experience as one that had been to the town before.

The elf straightened his shoulders and glanced up at the dwarf, his ice blue eyes piercing when set against his tanned, weathered face and blue black hair. "Nothing to go back to, sir . . . just here to help."

Insight · May 8, 2009

DEFCON 1 said:
Krunk watches the halfork pull up the sleeve of one of the young men, and he sighs when he sees the snake tattoo. Great. Just what he needed.

While no one was looking, Gloomblade deftly rolled up a white shirt sleeve and looked at his own snake tattoo. He'd gotten it at Sub Saan Prison, the result of some hazing rite of passage -- or so he was told.

Gloomblade quickly covered it as Sessie returned.

"Sorry for the trouble it might brought, but that one wanted to stab me and that is something I don't take. Even less than being insulted."

Krunk shrugs at the halfork and walks over to the first of the three unconscious forms, hoisting it up onto his shoulder. "I gotta take out the trash. Take the bar for a moment, won't you Sessie?" The hobgoblin then turns and strides to the front door to drop the body into the street.

Sessie moves behind the counter and pours a whiskey for the second halfork that found its way here. Being a tavern run by a hobgoblin, the Salty Mug was a favorite of the humanoid types within Overlook, and it was not unusual to have two of Gruumsh' brood within. "Another whiskey for you?" Sessie asks the imposing form of Gloomblade, as they both watch the brawler move over to speak to an elf at one of the other tables. "We have another brand available if you want to spend the extra coppers for it."

"Yar, why not?" Gloomblade replied. "Anything's better'n this stale swill, no offense," he added, cracking a toothy grin that Sessie or anyone else in Bordrin's Watch would be accustomed to seeing adorn a Half-Orc.

"And don't let these papercuts scare ya off," Gloomblade added, tracing lines across his slightly jade colored skin. He had acquired quite a number of "badges of honor", or what some might call results of too many prison fights. "Honestly, I don't bite... less'n yer into that sorta thing." He punctuated the somewhat crude comment with a hearty laugh.

Jemal · May 8, 2009

"Interesting crew ya got in tonight, Krunkie" the playful voice seemed to come out of thin air, as did the beautiful redhead who'd supplied it as she greeted the bartender. Michelle had made it a point to get to know all the bartenders aroun town - They were, after all, the best sources of information - And Krunk had not exactly been resistant to her charms.

"Whadaya think of the foxy elf with the collar? "

Insight · May 8, 2009

Jemal said:
"Interesting crew ya got in tonight, Krunkie" the playful voice seemed to come out of thin air, as did the beautiful redhead who'd supplied it as she greeted the bartender. Michelle had made it a point to get to know all the bartenders aroun town - They were, after all, the best sources of information - And Krunk had not exactly been resistant to her charms.

"Whadaya think of the foxy elf with the collar? "

"A collar?" Gloomblade said as he looked over in curiosity at the strange Elf. "Can't say I'm all that fond of collars on anyone... but I might make an exception fer that one."

The Half-Orc took another sip of his new and improved whiskey and looked over at Michelle. "I ain't been here five minutes'n I can tell you could very well be the life of the party," he remarks.