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Barrow of the Forgotten Story Hour - Complete! 8/13/08
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<blockquote data-quote="Abciximab" data-source="post: 3974958" data-attributes="member: 46017"><p><strong>The Beginning.</strong></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>The Beginning.</strong></p><p></p><p>Four strangers, simply looking for a comfortable place to rest in this sparsely populated area, find themselves in the middle of an emergency town meeting. </p><p></p><p>Wencis – Aasimar Incarnate (1) (+1 LA)</p><p>Celtir – Elven Cleric (2)</p><p>Frankarian Steelhaft (Frankie) – Dwarven Barbarian (2)</p><p>Bootsy – Gnome Sorcerer (2)</p><p></p><p>Ian Turbrand, owner of the Coronet and Cabbage Inn and town councilor, stands in the middle of the common room speaking loudly about the apparent doom that has fallen upon the town. “Never! Never in our life time have we had any serious trouble in this community and now it would seem, evil has found its way into our midst!”</p><p></p><p>“'Midst?'” Celtir whispered to one his fellow travelers, “I thought the graveyard was almost a mile away?” </p><p></p><p>“When you live your life in blissful ignorance of the evils that are kept at bay by the non-human nations around you, a mile is far too close,” answered Wencis.</p><p></p><p>The others also looked on with some doubt in their eyes. All were members of the border kingdoms, the (mostly non-human) kingdoms that kept this region safe, often at the expense of their own lives. This small human community was kept safe by an old pact made long ago by a long lost king, still honored by the nations that live on.</p><p></p><p>“Now is a time of heroes! Who among us will step forth and save the community from this evil?” asked Ian.</p><p></p><p>Many an eye was downcast, feet were nervously shuffled, throats cleared. “But… but you sent two sentinels, and neither have returned. We aren’t warriors,” answered Ol’ Jake, a farmer from the eastern edge of town. “Maybe you should send more of the guard, you know, like… maybe the rest of ‘em”.</p><p></p><p>“And who will guard the town? There is crime here in town, you all know this…”</p><p></p><p>A voice interrupted from the back, “I thought he was arrested…” </p><p></p><p>“… and what if the evil comes here while they are away?” Ian continues, ignoring the comment and the nervous laughter. “Maybe this is just a distraction, to draw our protection away from the town itself!”</p><p></p><p>Frankie, always having a low tolerance for foolishness and drama, finally stepped forth, “What, exactly is it that has moved into your graveyard that has brought about the end of civilization as you know it?” </p><p></p><p>Ian looked upon the strangers as if noticing them for the first time. “Two days ago a family of three went up to the graveyard and did not return. Two sentinels were sent to inspect, a human and one of your hearty race and they also have yet to return. This place has always been safe. We… we simply have no experience with this type of thing.” </p><p></p><p>They all saw the exact moment of Ian’s epiphany and knew what was coming. “You… You all look like seasoned travelers. You sir elf, that is the holy symbol to the Elven god of war unless I miss my guess, could you help us? There is a reward you know.”</p><p></p><p>This peaked their interest. “How much?” asked Bootsy skeptically.</p><p></p><p>“50 pieces of gold,” Ian answered quickly, eager to set the hook.</p><p></p><p>The lack of response got Ian’s wheels turning, “Each!” Still nothing.</p><p></p><p>“And another 250 gold if you catch or destroy whatever it is that has defiled the place. Each,” he quickly added. </p><p></p><p>“The 50 up front?” Bootsy asked just as quickly.</p><p></p><p>Ian thought for a moment, “Yes… though we could give you the equivalent worth in supplies, or healing drafts.”</p><p></p><p>“We’ll take a little of both, gold and goods to get us started,” answered Wencis. </p><p></p><p>“Will none of you come with us?” asked Celtir.</p><p></p><p>Again, all looked about nervously. Ian finally answered, “We’ll send someone with you, as a torch bearer or some such. He knows his way around a blade as well if you’ll trust him with one.”</p><p></p><p>“Can’t say as I like the sound of that,” answered Celtir.</p><p></p><p>“He’s a small time crook. Never actually killed anyone, spends his days performing petty theft and swindling and after a visit to the pawn shop and the tavern, he spends his nights with Hairy Helga, the Half-Orc Harlot.”</p><p></p><p>“What was he arrested for?” asked Bootsy always the skeptic. </p><p></p><p>“Assault,” answered Ian. Seeing they were expecting more he added, “He beat Gerren Landros, the nephew of the Town speaker, to within an inch of his life. Caught him bad-mouthing Helga apparently.”</p><p></p><p>“Great,” answered the four strangers together with little enthusiasm. </p><p></p><p>And with that, the adventure begins.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Abciximab, post: 3974958, member: 46017"] [b]The Beginning.[/b] [CENTER][B]The Beginning.[/B][/CENTER] Four strangers, simply looking for a comfortable place to rest in this sparsely populated area, find themselves in the middle of an emergency town meeting. Wencis – Aasimar Incarnate (1) (+1 LA) Celtir – Elven Cleric (2) Frankarian Steelhaft (Frankie) – Dwarven Barbarian (2) Bootsy – Gnome Sorcerer (2) Ian Turbrand, owner of the Coronet and Cabbage Inn and town councilor, stands in the middle of the common room speaking loudly about the apparent doom that has fallen upon the town. “Never! Never in our life time have we had any serious trouble in this community and now it would seem, evil has found its way into our midst!” “'Midst?'” Celtir whispered to one his fellow travelers, “I thought the graveyard was almost a mile away?” “When you live your life in blissful ignorance of the evils that are kept at bay by the non-human nations around you, a mile is far too close,” answered Wencis. The others also looked on with some doubt in their eyes. All were members of the border kingdoms, the (mostly non-human) kingdoms that kept this region safe, often at the expense of their own lives. This small human community was kept safe by an old pact made long ago by a long lost king, still honored by the nations that live on. “Now is a time of heroes! Who among us will step forth and save the community from this evil?” asked Ian. Many an eye was downcast, feet were nervously shuffled, throats cleared. “But… but you sent two sentinels, and neither have returned. We aren’t warriors,” answered Ol’ Jake, a farmer from the eastern edge of town. “Maybe you should send more of the guard, you know, like… maybe the rest of ‘em”. “And who will guard the town? There is crime here in town, you all know this…” A voice interrupted from the back, “I thought he was arrested…” “… and what if the evil comes here while they are away?” Ian continues, ignoring the comment and the nervous laughter. “Maybe this is just a distraction, to draw our protection away from the town itself!” Frankie, always having a low tolerance for foolishness and drama, finally stepped forth, “What, exactly is it that has moved into your graveyard that has brought about the end of civilization as you know it?” Ian looked upon the strangers as if noticing them for the first time. “Two days ago a family of three went up to the graveyard and did not return. Two sentinels were sent to inspect, a human and one of your hearty race and they also have yet to return. This place has always been safe. We… we simply have no experience with this type of thing.” They all saw the exact moment of Ian’s epiphany and knew what was coming. “You… You all look like seasoned travelers. You sir elf, that is the holy symbol to the Elven god of war unless I miss my guess, could you help us? There is a reward you know.” This peaked their interest. “How much?” asked Bootsy skeptically. “50 pieces of gold,” Ian answered quickly, eager to set the hook. The lack of response got Ian’s wheels turning, “Each!” Still nothing. “And another 250 gold if you catch or destroy whatever it is that has defiled the place. Each,” he quickly added. “The 50 up front?” Bootsy asked just as quickly. Ian thought for a moment, “Yes… though we could give you the equivalent worth in supplies, or healing drafts.” “We’ll take a little of both, gold and goods to get us started,” answered Wencis. “Will none of you come with us?” asked Celtir. Again, all looked about nervously. Ian finally answered, “We’ll send someone with you, as a torch bearer or some such. He knows his way around a blade as well if you’ll trust him with one.” “Can’t say as I like the sound of that,” answered Celtir. “He’s a small time crook. Never actually killed anyone, spends his days performing petty theft and swindling and after a visit to the pawn shop and the tavern, he spends his nights with Hairy Helga, the Half-Orc Harlot.” “What was he arrested for?” asked Bootsy always the skeptic. “Assault,” answered Ian. Seeing they were expecting more he added, “He beat Gerren Landros, the nephew of the Town speaker, to within an inch of his life. Caught him bad-mouthing Helga apparently.” “Great,” answered the four strangers together with little enthusiasm. And with that, the adventure begins. [/QUOTE]
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Barrow of the Forgotten Story Hour - Complete! 8/13/08
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