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Sunday, 30th September, 2012, 05:34 PM #1
Myrmidon (Lvl 10)
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- Jan 2004
- Grimsby, UK
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ø Ignore Goonalan
Hard Core Adventurers- KOTS 20.06 The Cathedral of ShadowsHARD CORE
A brief explanation
On the 19th day of the third month of the year 2012, at number six Jepperson Street, in Upper Fallcrest- a rather well-to-do area of the city, a strange meeting takes place, well... strange-ish. The meeting is 'chaired', if that indeed is the correct word, by Gerda Staul, wife of Douvern Staul- ex-adventurer, ex-royal advisor to the Markelhay family and at present ex-of Fallcrest...
“He set out for Winterhaven four weeks past, another one of his darn 'digs'”, Gerda looks across the table at a large metal man, a warforged, she tuts; the warforged raises an eyebrow, or at least does the best it can not having eyebrows and being entirely made of unyielding metal.
Gerda continues, “... some burial site, he said- outside of Winterhaven, from the time of the old Empire- he said. And so off he went... not a care in the world, I said to him...” Gerda stops talking, fetches a handkerchief from her sleeve and blows her nose. She takes a moment and composes herself.
“I'm rambling, sorry, but I miss the silly old bugger- and I know nothing bad has happened to him, he always comes back, he's just stuck in a hole somewhere- getting dirty and excited about old bones and even older junk.”
A pair of small but hairy hands snake out and grasp Gerda's right hand, do their best to enfold it, Gerda smiles down at her son Jimmy, and sniffs.
“I'd just like you to make sure- go to Winterhaven, find him and tell him to come home. He's getting too old for...” Gerda tails off, “... I just miss him.” She finishes.
Silence for a moment, save Gerda's sniffles, “Will you? Please.” She asks and looks plaintively at the others sat at the table.
Jimmy, holding his mother's hand still, grins up at her and nods his head- almost eager- “We'll find dad, don't worry mum,” the smartly dressed young halfling resolutely states.
Sat awkwardly next to Jimmy is a bulky bull-headed female, a member of the minotaur race- Hedda, dressed in purple-robed finery and bearing the holy symbol of the platinum dragon- Bahamut, she too nods, with nothing to add to the conversation.
Next around the table, barely balanced on his seat, is the warforged, battered and ancient looking- Hal, the metal man's eyes flash his agreement. He opens his mouth to speak, then thinks better of it, shuts his mouth and bows his head a little, unable to meet Gerda's gaze.
The fifth chair is occupied by a monstrous looking, scarred, half-orc, with a thick head of hair, dressed for hard labour in worn and oft-repaired clothes- Gokan nods once- definite, and grunts his assent.
The last member of the assembled group is a bald and stern looking dwarf, old even by his long-lived race's counting- Sigur of Hammerfast, growls, stands- almost knocking over his chair, and in his gruff voice speaks. “Well! Let's get going then!” The dwarf declares with a hint of impatience.
Gerda grins, sniffles and then grins some more- her eyes glisten.
The others noisily stand, and one by one troop from the room, each taking a moment to make eye contact with Gerda as they file past her.
Sigur nods curtly and thumps his chest with his right hand, some sort of dwarven salute no doubt. Hedda does her best to smile as she bows low to Gerda- “May Bahamut bless our undertaking” she adds; in the background Sigur hisses and harrumphs.
Hal, the warforged, files past with only a sideward glance at the woman.
Gokan next in line stops for a second, reaches out with one of his large calloused hands and gently touches the middle-aged human woman's cheek- Gerda nestles against Gokan's hand and smiles up at the half-orc. Gokan makes a low, content, animal-like sound and then quickly moves off- leaving Gerda and Jimmy.
The halfling tightens his grip on his mother's hand, leans in and plants a kiss on Gerda's cheek, she smiles as the tears fall, and then Jimmy is gone too. Just Gerda, alone in her room, and the darkness outside.
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