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Softwind's Tale: Companions of the Valley (upd 04/01/04) - REALLY!
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<blockquote data-quote="Softwind" data-source="post: 1225420" data-attributes="member: 13893"><p><strong>Lazy day in Merikest</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Twelfth Session (Dec 02)</strong></p><p></p><p>Eventually, the bronze shell is removed from the road, and the traces of the battle fade, even as the last of the Companions wounds are healed, leaving fresh skin behind, and the need to mend some gear. </p><p></p><p>Curious about the shell, Brynn calls on Humphrey, to learn what this strange figure could be. The wizened sage listens to the description, and Lad scribes the account of the figure’s movements, construction, and speech patterns. Brynn also borrows from Tombit one of the rapiers, the glove and arm piece still attached. Covered in glyphs, the bronze material gleams dully in the flickering oil lights of Humphrey’s study. The old man’s bushy eyebrows rise and fall repeatedly as he studies the runes, and compares them to several volumes in his lap. Brynn waits patiently, occasionally looking about at his surroundings. Being uneasy around so much arcana, his gaze eventually rests upon the wet bar nearby. Despite attempts at stealth, in order to not disturb the sage’s concentration, he trips over a pile of books and substance-encrusted pots, creating a racket, and causing Humphry’s head to jerk upright.</p><p></p><p>“Nimblewraith” the wizard almost shouts, in response.</p><p></p><p>“I’m sorry, what did you call me?” asks the dwarf, thinking that this recent display does not justify the term “nimble”, let alone “wraith”. </p><p></p><p>“Not you, my dear dwarf. This…” comes the reply, as Humphry shakes the rapier/limb. “This creature, or more rightly, construct, is a Nimblewraith. A very detailed creation, requiring expenditure of time, effort, and wealth to craft. Usually created for enforcement duties. Quite rare, as you may imagine.” The mage pauses, looking at the dwarf expectantly.</p><p></p><p>“Aah, yeah, I can imagine. Thank Mielikki there aren’t more around.” He says nervously, not liking to be on the spot, and still so far away from the ale at the bar. Brynn works to extricate himself from the scattered tomes and cookware. Succeeding, he lifts a flask pointedly at Humphrey, as if to ask permission. He gains it with a negligent wave of the mage’s hand, as Humphrey returns to his books. Smacking his lips in relish, Brynn pulls out his jet-encrusted mug, and pours himself a healthy draught. “Ahhh, better in than out, I always say.”</p><p></p><p>“Brynn?” </p><p></p><p>“Uh, aye, wizard?”</p><p></p><p>“Do you have more of this creation on hand?”</p><p></p><p>“Er, well, the townsfolk pulled it off the street. But I suppose I could locate it for you.”</p><p></p><p>“If you would, dear boy. I am most intrigued, and wish to study it more.”</p><p></p><p>“Okay. If only to thank you for the help you have provided us thus far. Consider it done.”</p><p></p><p>Finishing his drink, he stashes his mug, with one lingering look at the flask. He doesn’t bother to ask the sage why he wants the old thing, thinking it better to not mess in the affairs of wizards. Nodding to Humphrey, once more engrossed in his study, and Lad, who nods back, Brynn lets himself out and hunts down the remains, to arrange for them to be delivered to Humphrey.</p><p></p><p>He encounters Genoa, returning from a woodwork shop, bearing her new shield. Fashioned of well-fitted, and very stout, oak boards, it seems up to the task of defending the druid. Proud of her new acquisition, she shows off the leaf-detailing on the front, pointing out the near-imperceptible lines where the boards join. Brynn takes a moment to congratulate her, before setting off again, looking for the nimblewraith remains. He spies Athena emerging from the town temple, and crosses the street to meet up with her. He spends a few minutes listening as the gnome cleric describes her progress in assisting in the production of healing draughts, some of which the party can lay claim to, at a much reduced price of course. Brynn is pleased to hear this, as their supply had gotten dangerously low, and while Athena and Genoa both had access to divine healing, it never hurt to carry a backup just in case. He asks the cleric where he might find the remains, and Athena directs him to locate Tombit. Seems the little Halfling had taken a shine to the construct… (no pun, no pun!)</p><p>Once Tombit is located, at a local eatery, working on his umpteenth pie, it is a simple matter to arrange delivery of the figure to Humphrey. Tombit is a little disappointed at losing the construct, but when Brynn mentions Humphrey made no mention of keeping it, the monk perks up. Especially upon realizing that 1) he really couldn’t carry the thing around on adventures, and 2) a wizard crafted item is best kept by wizards, and not silly little Halflings. “Would cut down on my pie-carrying capacity, anyhoo” he muses.</p><p></p><p>Satisfied that it was taken care of, Brynn makes his way back to the Prancing Pony tavern, to clear the *ahem* road dust from his throat. Inwardly he muses that for a predominately human town, they have some decent brew. Then again, maybe that was a commonality of the race, not having had much experience with humans in the Valley. Brynn decides that perhaps he should someday find a larger human city, and discover for himself if they are a race of brewers, much like the dwarves. His thoughts are interrupted as he arrives at the tavern. “Too much thinkin’, not enough drinkin’” he says.</p><p></p><p>Later, his thirst quenched for the nonce, he sets off to the blacksmith, to check on the completion of a commissioned weapon. There, he finds to his joy that his sword has been crafted, to his exacting standards. Light in the hand, it nonetheless carries deadly force when swung. Brynn reaches into his pouch and pays the blacksmith the remainder of the cost owed, plus some for the fine craftsmanship. “Almost like dwarven” he mumbles, only half aloud. After all, wouldn’t do to give the man a big head…</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Softwind, post: 1225420, member: 13893"] [b]Lazy day in Merikest[/b] [b]Twelfth Session (Dec 02)[/b] Eventually, the bronze shell is removed from the road, and the traces of the battle fade, even as the last of the Companions wounds are healed, leaving fresh skin behind, and the need to mend some gear. Curious about the shell, Brynn calls on Humphrey, to learn what this strange figure could be. The wizened sage listens to the description, and Lad scribes the account of the figure’s movements, construction, and speech patterns. Brynn also borrows from Tombit one of the rapiers, the glove and arm piece still attached. Covered in glyphs, the bronze material gleams dully in the flickering oil lights of Humphrey’s study. The old man’s bushy eyebrows rise and fall repeatedly as he studies the runes, and compares them to several volumes in his lap. Brynn waits patiently, occasionally looking about at his surroundings. Being uneasy around so much arcana, his gaze eventually rests upon the wet bar nearby. Despite attempts at stealth, in order to not disturb the sage’s concentration, he trips over a pile of books and substance-encrusted pots, creating a racket, and causing Humphry’s head to jerk upright. “Nimblewraith” the wizard almost shouts, in response. “I’m sorry, what did you call me?” asks the dwarf, thinking that this recent display does not justify the term “nimble”, let alone “wraith”. “Not you, my dear dwarf. This…” comes the reply, as Humphry shakes the rapier/limb. “This creature, or more rightly, construct, is a Nimblewraith. A very detailed creation, requiring expenditure of time, effort, and wealth to craft. Usually created for enforcement duties. Quite rare, as you may imagine.” The mage pauses, looking at the dwarf expectantly. “Aah, yeah, I can imagine. Thank Mielikki there aren’t more around.” He says nervously, not liking to be on the spot, and still so far away from the ale at the bar. Brynn works to extricate himself from the scattered tomes and cookware. Succeeding, he lifts a flask pointedly at Humphrey, as if to ask permission. He gains it with a negligent wave of the mage’s hand, as Humphrey returns to his books. Smacking his lips in relish, Brynn pulls out his jet-encrusted mug, and pours himself a healthy draught. “Ahhh, better in than out, I always say.” “Brynn?” “Uh, aye, wizard?” “Do you have more of this creation on hand?” “Er, well, the townsfolk pulled it off the street. But I suppose I could locate it for you.” “If you would, dear boy. I am most intrigued, and wish to study it more.” “Okay. If only to thank you for the help you have provided us thus far. Consider it done.” Finishing his drink, he stashes his mug, with one lingering look at the flask. He doesn’t bother to ask the sage why he wants the old thing, thinking it better to not mess in the affairs of wizards. Nodding to Humphrey, once more engrossed in his study, and Lad, who nods back, Brynn lets himself out and hunts down the remains, to arrange for them to be delivered to Humphrey. He encounters Genoa, returning from a woodwork shop, bearing her new shield. Fashioned of well-fitted, and very stout, oak boards, it seems up to the task of defending the druid. Proud of her new acquisition, she shows off the leaf-detailing on the front, pointing out the near-imperceptible lines where the boards join. Brynn takes a moment to congratulate her, before setting off again, looking for the nimblewraith remains. He spies Athena emerging from the town temple, and crosses the street to meet up with her. He spends a few minutes listening as the gnome cleric describes her progress in assisting in the production of healing draughts, some of which the party can lay claim to, at a much reduced price of course. Brynn is pleased to hear this, as their supply had gotten dangerously low, and while Athena and Genoa both had access to divine healing, it never hurt to carry a backup just in case. He asks the cleric where he might find the remains, and Athena directs him to locate Tombit. Seems the little Halfling had taken a shine to the construct… (no pun, no pun!) Once Tombit is located, at a local eatery, working on his umpteenth pie, it is a simple matter to arrange delivery of the figure to Humphrey. Tombit is a little disappointed at losing the construct, but when Brynn mentions Humphrey made no mention of keeping it, the monk perks up. Especially upon realizing that 1) he really couldn’t carry the thing around on adventures, and 2) a wizard crafted item is best kept by wizards, and not silly little Halflings. “Would cut down on my pie-carrying capacity, anyhoo” he muses. Satisfied that it was taken care of, Brynn makes his way back to the Prancing Pony tavern, to clear the *ahem* road dust from his throat. Inwardly he muses that for a predominately human town, they have some decent brew. Then again, maybe that was a commonality of the race, not having had much experience with humans in the Valley. Brynn decides that perhaps he should someday find a larger human city, and discover for himself if they are a race of brewers, much like the dwarves. His thoughts are interrupted as he arrives at the tavern. “Too much thinkin’, not enough drinkin’” he says. Later, his thirst quenched for the nonce, he sets off to the blacksmith, to check on the completion of a commissioned weapon. There, he finds to his joy that his sword has been crafted, to his exacting standards. Light in the hand, it nonetheless carries deadly force when swung. Brynn reaches into his pouch and pays the blacksmith the remainder of the cost owed, plus some for the fine craftsmanship. “Almost like dwarven” he mumbles, only half aloud. After all, wouldn’t do to give the man a big head… [/QUOTE]
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Softwind's Tale: Companions of the Valley (upd 04/01/04) - REALLY!
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