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Story Hour
Hard Core Adventurers- KOTS 20.06 The Cathedral of Shadows
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 6027814" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 18px">KOTS Part 1a: Winterhaven, briefly.</span></p><p></p><p></p><p>An hour later and the adventurers are in Winterhaven, a small fortified settlement, having nodded their way past the two guardsmen at the gate. Before them a small gathering of market stalls, two dozen or so natives of the town take a moment to stare at the strange-looking newcomers. Jimmy grins at Hal and nods towards one of the stalls, the metal man's eyes flash red, the warforged moves off in the opposite direction, towards a timber and stucco two storey building, the sign says 'Wrafton's Inn'.</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Picture- Winterhaven]</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/40504969@N08/8059100605/" target="_blank"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8042/8059100605_176bd6960d_z.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a></p><p></p><p>[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>Moments later the adventurers are within; a cosy wide-open chamber, with a dozen or so tables, half of which are occupied, at the far end a long bar and a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. The occupants of the Inn stop to stare, while a well-dressed young man wearing a symbol of office stands up and clears his throat...</p><p></p><p>“Welcome to Winterhaven, I'm Padraig- Lord Padraig, and you are?”</p><p></p><p>The young man offers his hand, “Hedda.” Hedda states, and shakes the proffered hand- the minotaur priestess nods to each of her compatriots as she introduces them to the young Lord. The assembled adventurers nod, or else likewise shake his Lordship’s hand, drinks are called for and eventually the buzz of conversation returns, although the adventurers are still subject to many curious side-long glances.</p><p></p><p>“Well, what brings you to our pleasant town?” Padraig asks.</p><p></p><p>Hedda scans her compatriots’ faces before fielding the enquiry, “we're seeking a friend- Douvern Staul, an ex-adventurer, he came this way perhaps a month past....”</p><p></p><p>Padraig suddenly interrupts spotting the acid scars on Hal's metal body, the blood on Sigur's robes, and Jimmy's burnt and blackened hands, “It seems your journey was not without incident- Kobolds?” The young lord ventures.</p><p></p><p>“Aye.” Sigur curtly nods, “bloody little devils...” The dwarf trails off.</p><p>“How did you...” Jimmy begins, again Lord Padraig interrupts.</p><p>“We've been having a few... err, problems with the little... rascals, on the King's Road- I've posted a reward for their destruction...”</p><p>“We're not here for piffling kobold scum- we're here for our friend!” Sigur declares, punctuating his statement by slamming his tankard repeatedly on to the table.</p><p></p><p>The Inn goes silent again, behind Lord Padraig a large bearded man puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, and swaggers closer... “Watch your tongue, dwarf!” </p><p>Sigur stands; his chair spins back and clatters in to a nearby table spilling drinks.</p><p>“I'll say what I like to who I like- you long tall streak of p...”</p><p>“Gentlemen!” Hedda rises, hands out- proffering peace, “we came here to find our friend, not to cause trouble- if you help us with our mission, we will- time permitting - help you with your kobold problem. After all- one good turn deserves another.”</p><p></p><p>The silence sharpens, Sigur continues to bristle, the hefty looking man behind Padraig bites his beard and bristles back.</p><p></p><p>In the silence a badly-dressed older human staggers to his feet- gripping hard on to the edge of the nearest table, “I know... I mean, I knew... That is...” The old drunk tries for the third time to make himself understood. “He's working at the old burial site- Dougan, to the south east of here, not far- about three miles outside the town walls, I sent him there- or at least I told him...”</p><p></p><p>The five adventurers instantly forget their conversation with Lord Padraig and his lackey, they wordlessly excuse themselves from the table- Sigur grabs one of the drunk’s arms, Hal the other- the old guy's feet don't touch the floor until the gaggle are back outside the gates of Winterhaven.</p><p></p><p>“Where?” Hedda demands.</p><p>“I'm thirsty...” The old man starts.</p><p>“You will be rewarded well, should you tell the truth.” Hedda declares and fetches out her money pouch.</p><p>“Talk you dirty bastard.” Sigur spits and violently shakes the drunk.</p><p>“Over there.” The startled human points, “three miles or so- you can't miss it, a big hole in the ground circled by gorse bushes, he's down there. I promise, now...”</p><p>“When did you see Douvern last?” Hedda asks.</p><p>Sigur begins to shake the drunk when he hesitates.</p><p>“Douv..? Oh, you mean Dougan; he came in to town ten days back- bought food and drink from the store...”</p><p>“How did he seem?” Hedda snorts and gets in the drunk’s face, awaiting his reply- watching him intently.</p><p>The drunk shrugs, “alright, I guess- he had a drink and a meal at Wrafton's 'fore he left- bought me one for pointing 'im in the right direction.” The drunk looks momentarily wounded, he mutters to himself, “not right treating me like this...” Sigur snarls at the guy, whose face turns white.</p><p></p><p>“Let him go.” Hedda states, Hal and Sigur comply, the latter reluctantly- the drunk staggers some more as the minotaur priestess of Bahamut presses a single gold coin in to his hand. The old man grins as the coin catches the light revealing its value, all it seems is instantly forgiven.</p><p></p><p>“Bless you sirs”, the drunk states and goes to kiss Sigur, then thinks better of it, and hot foots it back through the town gate, heading at speed for the Inn.</p><p></p><p>The adventurers take a moment- each gazing off in to the distance, eventually Sigur breaks the silence, “Well!” the dwarf bellows, tuts loudly and then strides off towards the burial site, the others quickly follow after...</p><p></p><p>Hedda worries- too easy, she thinks, far too easy.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/40504969@N08/8045385962/" target="_blank"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8173/8045385962_3cd599f86f.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></a></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 6027814, member: 16069"] [CENTER][SIZE="5"]KOTS Part 1a: Winterhaven, briefly.[/SIZE][/CENTER] An hour later and the adventurers are in Winterhaven, a small fortified settlement, having nodded their way past the two guardsmen at the gate. Before them a small gathering of market stalls, two dozen or so natives of the town take a moment to stare at the strange-looking newcomers. Jimmy grins at Hal and nods towards one of the stalls, the metal man's eyes flash red, the warforged moves off in the opposite direction, towards a timber and stucco two storey building, the sign says 'Wrafton's Inn'. [sblock=Picture- Winterhaven] [CENTER][url=http://www.flickr.com/photos/40504969@N08/8059100605/][img]http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8042/8059100605_176bd6960d_z.jpg[/img][/url][/CENTER] [/sblock] Moments later the adventurers are within; a cosy wide-open chamber, with a dozen or so tables, half of which are occupied, at the far end a long bar and a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. The occupants of the Inn stop to stare, while a well-dressed young man wearing a symbol of office stands up and clears his throat... “Welcome to Winterhaven, I'm Padraig- Lord Padraig, and you are?” The young man offers his hand, “Hedda.” Hedda states, and shakes the proffered hand- the minotaur priestess nods to each of her compatriots as she introduces them to the young Lord. The assembled adventurers nod, or else likewise shake his Lordship’s hand, drinks are called for and eventually the buzz of conversation returns, although the adventurers are still subject to many curious side-long glances. “Well, what brings you to our pleasant town?” Padraig asks. Hedda scans her compatriots’ faces before fielding the enquiry, “we're seeking a friend- Douvern Staul, an ex-adventurer, he came this way perhaps a month past....” Padraig suddenly interrupts spotting the acid scars on Hal's metal body, the blood on Sigur's robes, and Jimmy's burnt and blackened hands, “It seems your journey was not without incident- Kobolds?” The young lord ventures. “Aye.” Sigur curtly nods, “bloody little devils...” The dwarf trails off. “How did you...” Jimmy begins, again Lord Padraig interrupts. “We've been having a few... err, problems with the little... rascals, on the King's Road- I've posted a reward for their destruction...” “We're not here for piffling kobold scum- we're here for our friend!” Sigur declares, punctuating his statement by slamming his tankard repeatedly on to the table. The Inn goes silent again, behind Lord Padraig a large bearded man puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, and swaggers closer... “Watch your tongue, dwarf!” Sigur stands; his chair spins back and clatters in to a nearby table spilling drinks. “I'll say what I like to who I like- you long tall streak of p...” “Gentlemen!” Hedda rises, hands out- proffering peace, “we came here to find our friend, not to cause trouble- if you help us with our mission, we will- time permitting - help you with your kobold problem. After all- one good turn deserves another.” The silence sharpens, Sigur continues to bristle, the hefty looking man behind Padraig bites his beard and bristles back. In the silence a badly-dressed older human staggers to his feet- gripping hard on to the edge of the nearest table, “I know... I mean, I knew... That is...” The old drunk tries for the third time to make himself understood. “He's working at the old burial site- Dougan, to the south east of here, not far- about three miles outside the town walls, I sent him there- or at least I told him...” The five adventurers instantly forget their conversation with Lord Padraig and his lackey, they wordlessly excuse themselves from the table- Sigur grabs one of the drunk’s arms, Hal the other- the old guy's feet don't touch the floor until the gaggle are back outside the gates of Winterhaven. “Where?” Hedda demands. “I'm thirsty...” The old man starts. “You will be rewarded well, should you tell the truth.” Hedda declares and fetches out her money pouch. “Talk you dirty bastard.” Sigur spits and violently shakes the drunk. “Over there.” The startled human points, “three miles or so- you can't miss it, a big hole in the ground circled by gorse bushes, he's down there. I promise, now...” “When did you see Douvern last?” Hedda asks. Sigur begins to shake the drunk when he hesitates. “Douv..? Oh, you mean Dougan; he came in to town ten days back- bought food and drink from the store...” “How did he seem?” Hedda snorts and gets in the drunk’s face, awaiting his reply- watching him intently. The drunk shrugs, “alright, I guess- he had a drink and a meal at Wrafton's 'fore he left- bought me one for pointing 'im in the right direction.” The drunk looks momentarily wounded, he mutters to himself, “not right treating me like this...” Sigur snarls at the guy, whose face turns white. “Let him go.” Hedda states, Hal and Sigur comply, the latter reluctantly- the drunk staggers some more as the minotaur priestess of Bahamut presses a single gold coin in to his hand. The old man grins as the coin catches the light revealing its value, all it seems is instantly forgiven. “Bless you sirs”, the drunk states and goes to kiss Sigur, then thinks better of it, and hot foots it back through the town gate, heading at speed for the Inn. The adventurers take a moment- each gazing off in to the distance, eventually Sigur breaks the silence, “Well!” the dwarf bellows, tuts loudly and then strides off towards the burial site, the others quickly follow after... Hedda worries- too easy, she thinks, far too easy. [CENTER][url=http://www.flickr.com/photos/40504969@N08/8045385962/][img]http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8173/8045385962_3cd599f86f.jpg[/img][/url][/CENTER] [/QUOTE]
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