American Die, Part 1:
We entered the dark dwarven mine in search of our mutual friend, Albert Montbank. To most he was considered a local hero, a wise sage, a seasoned adventurer, a skilled healer, or even a devoted cleric to St. Cuthbert, but to me, he was inspiration to better my own existence.
Drak led our outlandish group deeper into the mines until we found an area where the miners evidently broke through to a well constructed dungeon like area. Drak and his sister, Bryza, hasted me and the two halflings into the unknown area, there wasn’t much time left, we had to hurry.
“Nails,” (As Drak called me due to my choice of weapons, bladed gauntlets on each hand), “keep an eye on the pickpocket and the old man, I’m going to check out that door,” shouted the Drak right before he oafishly fell into a 10-foot deep pit trap.
I stifled my muffled my laugh as Bryza glanced my way. If it wasn’t for Alfred, I would never associate myself with the Ironheart family. Generations of bully’s who believe they can fix all problems with brute force. Although I personally despise Drak, and have no empathy towards his sister, I know that I would be no match to them in physical combat if our feud were ever to escalate to that level.
Regardless, Bryza had lowered a rope and quickly hefted her pea-brained brother out of the trap. He was already bounding down the hallway to see what further mischief he could bring upon us. At the far end of the corridor, there was a large oak door. Drak noted to the party that the handle was covered in dust. I felt that it was obvious that Alfred would not be found in that direction and began to once again search for recent tracks.
“I bet you think your so smart Nails, well you ain’t. Now get over here, I’m gonna open it up.”
Nothing I could do but watch, secretly hoping that something would happen to knock Drak’s inflated ego down a few notches. As the door swung open, all that we could see inside was a skeleton with a broom. It appeared to be sweeping the room with great effort. I quickly moved to shut the door before there was unnecessary and time consuming battle, “We must find Alfred first.”
Drak intellectually retorted, “Whatever!”