Walking Dad
First Post
Varis follows...
[Tavern] Tower's Shard 2011
On Puget Sound
First Post
Keeping Spring close to his side, Ryk follows the herald into the back room. (unsubscribing here, subscribing to the adventure thread).
Son of Meepo
First Post
The sleepy halfling shrugs.
He gets off his chair and heads for the stairs to a room upstairs.
The last comments is directed towards Brews.
A few minutes later the silence in the tavern is shatter as the door is flung open by a large woman. She's built like a mountain, one would even say dwarf-like in stature, but no dwarf you've ever met is over six-feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds in weight. Unlike most dwarves you've seen, she is completely bald, not a single hair growing anywhere upon her head.
Here gear is packed poorly, it is obvious she is not used to traveling far or often. She wears a suit of blood-stained mail that is of obvious dwarven make, as is the one weapon she carries, a strange device, like a shovel with sharpened edges that end in a sharp cusp of a point that could be used for thrusting. This weapon has clearly been used for both fighting and digging recently, it's edge chipped and the spade is caked with blood and dirt. Along its haft words in Dwarven have been inscribed, though some of the symbols are obscured by a layer of grime. The symbol of Dol Arrah etched into the blade is clear enough to make out however.
She nods curtly towards Brews and orders up a drink. She lumbers towards a table, seeking out the sturdiest chair she could find to support her massive frame. She plops herself down into a suitable seat and it groans in protest. She then sets her gear on the ground beside her and a fist-sized crystal sphere rolls out of her pack. The woman picks up the orb in her meaty hand and sets it on a table. It begins to illuminate the table with a soft light that brightens the otherwise dark corner of the tavern.
She then rests her head in her arms and lets out a deep sigh from her lungs. The next sound you hear from her is sobbing.
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He gets off his chair and heads for the stairs to a room upstairs.
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The last comments is directed towards Brews.
A few minutes later the silence in the tavern is shatter as the door is flung open by a large woman. She's built like a mountain, one would even say dwarf-like in stature, but no dwarf you've ever met is over six-feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds in weight. Unlike most dwarves you've seen, she is completely bald, not a single hair growing anywhere upon her head.
Here gear is packed poorly, it is obvious she is not used to traveling far or often. She wears a suit of blood-stained mail that is of obvious dwarven make, as is the one weapon she carries, a strange device, like a shovel with sharpened edges that end in a sharp cusp of a point that could be used for thrusting. This weapon has clearly been used for both fighting and digging recently, it's edge chipped and the spade is caked with blood and dirt. Along its haft words in Dwarven have been inscribed, though some of the symbols are obscured by a layer of grime. The symbol of Dol Arrah etched into the blade is clear enough to make out however.
She nods curtly towards Brews and orders up a drink. She lumbers towards a table, seeking out the sturdiest chair she could find to support her massive frame. She plops herself down into a suitable seat and it groans in protest. She then sets her gear on the ground beside her and a fist-sized crystal sphere rolls out of her pack. The woman picks up the orb in her meaty hand and sets it on a table. It begins to illuminate the table with a soft light that brightens the otherwise dark corner of the tavern.
She then rests her head in her arms and lets out a deep sigh from her lungs. The next sound you hear from her is sobbing.
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Brondin feels haunted. Madness lurks in the shadows. Waking nightmares trouble the brooding dwarf as he finds his way to the Tower's Shard.
Hooded and cowled, he enters and looks around, taking in the tavern patrons (particularly eyeing the darkened corners). Lowering his hood, he makes his way to the bar. Brews is idly talking to a group of adventurers while wiping down the worn wooden bar, polished to a glassy finish.
Waiting for a break in the conversation, Brondin looks to Brews and says, "A pint o' ale.". Once the drink is paid for, and received, he takes a sip. Setting the tankard on the bar, he proceeds to introduce himself to Brews, "Me name's Brondin Hurdin, House Kundarak and the Warders Guild. I'm lookin' fer some work. So if'n ya heard o' anyone a needin' a strong arm, tell them look no further. Me an' me warhammer are fer hire."
Brondin Hurndin - Runepriest/Warden Level 4
Now let's see how the runes fall., Brondin muses.
Hooded and cowled, he enters and looks around, taking in the tavern patrons (particularly eyeing the darkened corners). Lowering his hood, he makes his way to the bar. Brews is idly talking to a group of adventurers while wiping down the worn wooden bar, polished to a glassy finish.
Waiting for a break in the conversation, Brondin looks to Brews and says, "A pint o' ale.". Once the drink is paid for, and received, he takes a sip. Setting the tankard on the bar, he proceeds to introduce himself to Brews, "Me name's Brondin Hurdin, House Kundarak and the Warders Guild. I'm lookin' fer some work. So if'n ya heard o' anyone a needin' a strong arm, tell them look no further. Me an' me warhammer are fer hire."
Brondin Hurndin - Runepriest/Warden Level 4
Now let's see how the runes fall., Brondin muses.
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Last edited:
hornedturtle
First Post
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"You could temporarily replace Vok or Crush, dwarf. If you're willing to become part of something greater then you alone, Brondin Hurdin of House Kundarak."
Somehow, the voice comes from just behind the new arrival despite the fact that he just passed through the space where the speaker must be.
Turning around, he sees a drow, wearing concealing black robes, his skin glistening with some kind of oil, his eyes black as the blackest night and shadows flickering around him, concealing details.
OOC: umbragen warlock, shadow walking, don't be afraid
OOC2: Also, I couldn't give you XP, but YAY! for LEB adventure
Somehow, the voice comes from just behind the new arrival despite the fact that he just passed through the space where the speaker must be.
Turning around, he sees a drow, wearing concealing black robes, his skin glistening with some kind of oil, his eyes black as the blackest night and shadows flickering around him, concealing details.
OOC: umbragen warlock, shadow walking, don't be afraid
OOC2: Also, I couldn't give you XP, but YAY! for LEB adventure
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