OrkJager

[Harvey]

Koric, Half-Orc Cleric of Pelor

Koric acknowledges the human who has just joined the campfire with a broad smile. "Ah, and I see a human has joined our company as well! This caravan is a veritable melting pot of cultures! Come, have a seat, friend human!"

"And as for your question, friend elf, I am half-human, no matter what by outward appearance may speak." At that, he winks at the elf with a smile. "And as for the wine, I would not presume to offer up someone else's libation without their say so." He turns to the halfling with that same smile, obviously happy at his newfound company. "What say you, friend halfling, shall we let our new friend partake of some of this... what did you call it? Applewine?" He turns back to the elf: "though I must warn you, fair lady, it has quite a kick!" He offers another wink.

At the words of the cook, Koric looks up, looking somewhat shocked, for this is the first time he noticed the cook's now-obvious orcish blood. "Orcish blood or no, any cleric of Pelor is human enough for me."

At that, Koric smiles. "And any half-orc who knows of Pelor and cares of others humanity can most surely be called an ally to Koric!"

Koric turns to the human "Stories are a excellent way to pass the time while the venison cooks. So, Percy Aglax, archer and student of war, what brings you to this campfire tonight?"

 

[Wilphe]

He looks rather happy at Lindal's announcement"Excellent. Have we you to thank for bringing the quarry in?"

To Koric, "As for why I am here? I am a younger son of a family without wealth or connections; as such I must make my own way in the world if I am to ammount to anything. I could get a steady position as some militaman in a town or take service with some two-bit Lord or other but there is little fortune and less glory in that."

 

[FreeXenon]

Franky, Male Halfing, Historian and Traveler

TO Koric:
"Applewine is not friendly to all palates." smiling widely, and is a little bit amused.

"May the glory of Pelor shine upon all the days of your journey." Nodding.

TO Felicity:
"Yes, of course, my lady. You should find this more to your liking." Gently tosses the flask to her.

TO: Percy
"Please, enjoy the wonders of Barrowshire Applewine, Percy, if you please... Welcome and well met."

TO: All
RE: "little fortune and less glory"

His face settles to a calm yet distant image, which seems rather abnormal from his previous demeanor.
"Fortune and Glory can be found in retribution. These orcish incursions have made many suffer." Shakes his head as if to shake off a bad thought...

"My name is Franky. I am a historian and traveler." He lets that register for a moment trying to hide a smile, and then says

"It is said the during the siege of Citadel Adrahn something strange happend involving their primary export of venison. There are only a few pieces that confirm this, but, it is said that during the entire 2 year siege of the human wrought citadel by the goblinoid tribe 'Five Bloody Heads' that the Adrahns ate venison non-stop. One would think that since it is a primary export that they should have stock piles of it. Makes sense, I think. Reports say that Adrahnites didn't even really like venison, as they have too much of it. They tried to export as much of it as possible, preferring beef or poultry. Besides, that's a lot to stock pile for a 2 year siege. Most Keepers would respond Prestidigitation is an nteresting tool."

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[Wilphe]

"Well it would have been well hung in any event"

 

[FreeXenon]

Franky, Male Halfling, Historian and Travler

TO: Percy
RE:"Well it would have been well hung in any event" A quizzical eye is lifted at this.

"Student of War? Where did you study or who did you study under?" he says with a curious look in his eyes.

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[reddist]

Felicity, female half-elf

Felicity snatches the flask from the air with a speed and sureness that surprises you. She is a bit slower in taking a sip though, pausing to sniff at the open bottle. When she does, she smiles at Franky and tosses her head back, drinking deeply....***COUGH*** ***SPUTTER*** Then she starts giggling... "It smells so much like the apple mead of my own people, but far stronger! You must have a stone stomach to drink such as this!" She takes another sip, a smaller one this time, raising the flask in acknowledgement to the growing circle of people. "To better days," she toasts.

Finally, capping the flask, she hands it back to Franky, nodding in appreciation. "It is better in smaller sips," she says to him, quietly.. Color rises rapidly to her cheeks and she pulls her cloak up around her shoulders to stave off the evening chill. Felicity seems embarrassed by her sudden outburst and boldness, and settles in to watch and listen in quiet fascination as these strangers share their stories with each other.

 

[Harvey]

Koric, Half-Orc Cleric of Pelor

At Felicity's coughing, Korick laughs a throaty laugh. "I see our friend elf, Felicity, has an aura of courage about her!"

As Franky begins his story, Koric settles in for a more comfortable sitting. He seems very interested in hearing about other's stories. As the story ends, he seems to nods, muttering "goblinoids bring nothing but sorrow or trouble, and sometimes both."

As Franky addresses Percy "Where did you study or who did you study under?", Koric echoes Franky's curiosity: "Yes, I would love to learn more about your studies, as I am sure they will come into use during our caravan drive..."

 

[Wilphe]

Percy

"That, friend is a long story; but we have little else to do, the night has not yet drawn in, we have a meal that is cooking and good company. Many might seek more, but we should remember the many who have less."

"My family has spent 5 generations in the martial service of others. Through which we have gained enough sucess that the eldest children in each generation need not worry about finding enough money to marry. I unfortunatly am too late born for any such security. Only a bloody war or a sickly season would secure my future."

"No I was destined for hard graft but my parents could not decide what to do with me. I did not seem to have the grace or strength to make a warrior; and though they considered apprenticing me to a wizard despite their distaste for arcanists I did not really have the wits for it. There is not a single spark of the divine about me either. It appeared that my force of personality dictated that I should become a bard but they would not stand for such dishonour or frivolity."

 

[Wilphe]

Percy

"So, after much consideration and worry they heard about Knight and a Scholar who together ran a small school for those intended for positions of command. Though my mother was not keen on me learning my trade from an aged scholar and some musty books - in her eyes the only true way to learn to lead warriors was on the tourney field and in the heat of battle."

"And so they sent me off; with little help beyond my fees and the clothes on my back and even lower expectations. I have not returned since; I spent much time in the library with Master Akranis, poring over maps and accounts of long-forgotten conflicts and I practiced alongside Sir Uthwaite as he taught how much more there is to combat than mere fighting. From them I learned much, and I could have learnt so much more..."

"Master Akranis passed away two months ago; Sir Uthwaite decided to sell up and enjoy a long postponed retirement. So here I am; on the road and in search of a destiny."

 

[FreeXenon]

Franky, Male Halfling, Lore Keeper

His face turns rather solemn and looks slightly to the ground before speaking with a weakened voice:
"My family, Farseer of the Barrowshire, had a tradition of honorable service to our shire. I, as well as others in my family, are Lore Keepers. As Lore Keepers we are dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge; acquiring it and preserving it. My house specialized in Shire History. We knew more about the shire than the people that lived in it." voice trails off into silence following that. He slowly gets up, shoulders slumping a little "Excuse me." and walks out of the camp area without making eye contact, out of sight.

From a distance you hear a low, sad chant trail in and out:

"... could not be lifted
not by love nor by fate.
I ran as fast
as the northern wind
but it was already too late..."


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