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The Adventures of Olgar Shiverstone (Angelsboi: In memorium)
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<blockquote data-quote="Olgar Shiverstone" data-source="post: 263044" data-attributes="member: 5868"><p><strong>Chpt 2, cont.</strong></p><p></p><p>While Olgar was busy brawling, he observed an elf approaching the doorway. The elf was dressed as a woodsman, with a cloak pulled up about his head , though not far enough to completely hide his white hair and piercing blue eyes. The hilt of a scimitar protruded from his beltline.</p><p></p><p><em>If he’s got two o’ them things,</em> Olgar thought to himself,<em> I’m givin’ up adventurin’.</em> He figured he’d give the elf a little test, and threw the nearest chair at his head. The elf wasn’t quite quick enough, and was knocked sprawling back down the stairs.</p><p></p><p>“Serves ye right, ye pansy!” Olgar shouted after him.</p><p></p><p>The elf returned a few moments later, shaking off the effects of Olgar’s welcome, and found a seat with Belarn at one of the only remaining intact tables in the room.</p><p></p><p>Yuusdrail returned a few minutes later, dragging a human in brightly colored robes behind her. <em>Bloody peacock, </em>Olgar thought. <em> Wonder what the slimy git is up to.</em> He threw a mug at the kobold, but missed. Yuusdrail took the man to the halfling’s table aas well, and tooks a seat.</p><p></p><p>A series of bells rang, signaling the end of morning vespers. The commotion in the common room died away, with most of the patrons calmly going to their seat to enjoy their evening meals. Olgar went to join his companions at their table and find out who the two newcomers were.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, nothin’ like a good brawl t’ get th’ spirit a burnin’ in ye,” Olgar said happily, and plopped down on the one remaining unbroken chair at the table. He teetered drunkenly and leered at the human and strange elf. Both seemed oddly familiar to him. “”Ew ‘re ye, an’ what’re ye doin’ ‘ere?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>“Name’s Streith,” the elf replied. “I’m not sure why I’m here, or even if I’m in the right place. I had a vision of a great flaming sword, and all those I asked directed me here.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, ye come t’ th’ right place, pansy,” Olgar replied. “This ‘ere’s th’ temple o’ Kraig, an’ his weapon’s a great flamin’ sword. So yer ‘ere. Now what?” The elf just shrugged, so Olgar turned on the robed human. “An’ what’er ye doin’, peacock?”</p><p></p><p>“Yuusdrail here hired me to identify some magic items for you,” the man replied, “I’m here under her contract.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye that’d prove useful, peacock,” Olgar replied, “if’n yer up t’ it. Wha’ makes ye think so?”</p><p></p><p>The man said nothing in response, but instead stood, and grabbing the remains of a broken chair beside him, smashed Olgar across the helmet.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, then,” Olgar responded when the ringing in his ears finally stopped, “ye’ll be alright. Name’s Olgar Shiverstone, glad t’ know ye.” He clasped hands with the man warmly.</p><p></p><p>“Nelum,” the man stated,” now let’s see those items.”</p><p></p><p>“Jus’ a sec,” Olgar responded, “ ha’ we met? Ye look familiar.” The man was strangely familiar, as familiar as the elf. The man shook his head. Suddenly it struck Olgar. “Ye two ‘re the ones from me vision! “ He explained the dream he had had two nights before. “I don’ know wha’ it means, but ye’re stayin’ wi’ us until I finds out! Wodyn, give ‘em th’ stuff!”</p><p></p><p>Wodyn passed the lot across the table without a word, glancing about to see if anyone else in the common room had nothiced. Nelum’s eyes went wide, and he mumbled a few arcane words to himself , and then concentrated on the items briefly.</p><p></p><p>“I can probably make out a few of these things,” he said after a moment, “but it will take me at least eight hours per item, and cost you 150 gold per.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, get started,” Wodyn responded, “we’ll go do some exploring in the meantime.”</p><p></p><p>“What should I start with?” the mage asked, as the other rose to depart.</p><p></p><p>“Wand,” the kobold replied, “Yuusdrail pay.”</p><p></p><p>“It’ll be ready about six this evening,” Nelum said, as the others departed.</p><p></p><p>“Where to?” Olgar asked, as the group gathered outside the building.</p><p></p><p>“Shopping,” Wodyn replied cryptically.</p><p></p><p>They headed to the center of town, Belarn explaining that he had been speaking to a dwarven bard about the bardic competition and the series of murders in the town. The bardic competition was the center of the town's attention, and was scheduled to start in the town square about five that evening. Many of the townsfolk seemed to think it would not go off, as several of the performers had been murdered. Kelly McGrath and Irene Mulaney were their names.</p><p></p><p>“Don’ see what tha’ has t’ do wi’ us,” Olgar said, shaking his head. “We ha’ our own problems. Leave I’ t’ th’ watch. An’ pansy there, he don’ look t’ interested neither.” The elf had accompanied them, saying nothing.</p><p></p><p>Near the town square, the adventurers came across a large gathering of locals. From the whispered murmur, it seemed there had been another murdur. Belarn and the elf, Streith, slipped away to try and get a better look, while Olgar simply stamped his feet impatiently. <em>Waste o’ bloody time; go join th’ watch if’n ye wants t’ play do-gooder detective.</em></p><p></p><p>The two returned shortly. “A young girl was killed, “ Belarn related, “heart ripped out. Her name was Lydia Ferrier. A local, I think. Came in from an outlying farm to see the show. Odd – the dwarf said that the other girls had also had body parts removed.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, watch’s got it in hand,” Olgar said dismissively. “Let’s be off then.”</p><p></p><p>They strolled onward, the crowd thinning to nothing. Olgar heard a faint tinkling of chimes, and halted, looking around. Wodyn stopped as well.</p><p></p><p>“I heard something,” the big man said, “and felt something, too. Can’t place it.”</p><p></p><p>Olgar shrugged, and was about to move onward, when from a few feet ahead of them Belarn suddenly turned, a feral gleam in his eye.</p><p></p><p>“I’m tired of always being picked on!” he shouted, and threw a dagger that planted itself in Olgar’s side.” Olgar gasped painfully, but the adrenaline began to build, and he whipped his sword from off his shoulder.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, runt, ye’ll finally get what ye deserve!” he said, advancing.</p><p></p><p>Wodyn got there first. Stepping forward quickly, he pulled out his axe and bopped Belarn over the head with the butt of it. The halfling collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Then the big man shuddered again.</p><p></p><p>“Something just tried to push into my mind!” he cried in horror.</p><p></p><p><em>Mind leech,</em> Olgar thought,<em> or worse. </em> Reaching for his deepest faith, he channeled as much positive energy as he could muster. “Be Kraig, out wi’ ye!” he shouted, holding aloft his clenched fist.</p><p></p><p>The translucent figure of a waspish girl manifested itself out of this air. The figure bled incorporeal blood from a gaping wound in its chest, and where its heart should have been beat a large purple crystal.</p><p></p><p>Wodyn and Streith sprang forward, swinging their weapons. The figure began to dissolve, whispering a few words in a strange tongue before disappearing.</p><p></p><p>“That was the girl whose body is in the street back there,” Streith said in horror, “I recognized he face. The words are elvish. She said: ‘The clues to our killer are in our names.’ “</p><p></p><p>“Aye, but what’s that mean?” Olgar said. He had healed his wound, but was still out of breath and quite irritable. If the halfling was possessed by a spirit, he wasn’t responsible for the attack. Olgar resolved to keep the dagger, just in case.</p><p></p><p>Wodyn was reviving the stunned halfling. “What happened?” Belarn asked, “and why do I have a lump on my head?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Olgar Shiverstone, post: 263044, member: 5868"] [b]Chpt 2, cont.[/b] While Olgar was busy brawling, he observed an elf approaching the doorway. The elf was dressed as a woodsman, with a cloak pulled up about his head , though not far enough to completely hide his white hair and piercing blue eyes. The hilt of a scimitar protruded from his beltline. [i]If he’s got two o’ them things,[/i] Olgar thought to himself,[i] I’m givin’ up adventurin’.[/i] He figured he’d give the elf a little test, and threw the nearest chair at his head. The elf wasn’t quite quick enough, and was knocked sprawling back down the stairs. “Serves ye right, ye pansy!” Olgar shouted after him. The elf returned a few moments later, shaking off the effects of Olgar’s welcome, and found a seat with Belarn at one of the only remaining intact tables in the room. Yuusdrail returned a few minutes later, dragging a human in brightly colored robes behind her. [i]Bloody peacock, [/i]Olgar thought. [i] Wonder what the slimy git is up to.[/i] He threw a mug at the kobold, but missed. Yuusdrail took the man to the halfling’s table aas well, and tooks a seat. A series of bells rang, signaling the end of morning vespers. The commotion in the common room died away, with most of the patrons calmly going to their seat to enjoy their evening meals. Olgar went to join his companions at their table and find out who the two newcomers were. “Aye, nothin’ like a good brawl t’ get th’ spirit a burnin’ in ye,” Olgar said happily, and plopped down on the one remaining unbroken chair at the table. He teetered drunkenly and leered at the human and strange elf. Both seemed oddly familiar to him. “”Ew ‘re ye, an’ what’re ye doin’ ‘ere?” he asked. “Name’s Streith,” the elf replied. “I’m not sure why I’m here, or even if I’m in the right place. I had a vision of a great flaming sword, and all those I asked directed me here.” “Well, ye come t’ th’ right place, pansy,” Olgar replied. “This ‘ere’s th’ temple o’ Kraig, an’ his weapon’s a great flamin’ sword. So yer ‘ere. Now what?” The elf just shrugged, so Olgar turned on the robed human. “An’ what’er ye doin’, peacock?” “Yuusdrail here hired me to identify some magic items for you,” the man replied, “I’m here under her contract.” “Aye that’d prove useful, peacock,” Olgar replied, “if’n yer up t’ it. Wha’ makes ye think so?” The man said nothing in response, but instead stood, and grabbing the remains of a broken chair beside him, smashed Olgar across the helmet. “Aye, then,” Olgar responded when the ringing in his ears finally stopped, “ye’ll be alright. Name’s Olgar Shiverstone, glad t’ know ye.” He clasped hands with the man warmly. “Nelum,” the man stated,” now let’s see those items.” “Jus’ a sec,” Olgar responded, “ ha’ we met? Ye look familiar.” The man was strangely familiar, as familiar as the elf. The man shook his head. Suddenly it struck Olgar. “Ye two ‘re the ones from me vision! “ He explained the dream he had had two nights before. “I don’ know wha’ it means, but ye’re stayin’ wi’ us until I finds out! Wodyn, give ‘em th’ stuff!” Wodyn passed the lot across the table without a word, glancing about to see if anyone else in the common room had nothiced. Nelum’s eyes went wide, and he mumbled a few arcane words to himself , and then concentrated on the items briefly. “I can probably make out a few of these things,” he said after a moment, “but it will take me at least eight hours per item, and cost you 150 gold per.” “Well, get started,” Wodyn responded, “we’ll go do some exploring in the meantime.” “What should I start with?” the mage asked, as the other rose to depart. “Wand,” the kobold replied, “Yuusdrail pay.” “It’ll be ready about six this evening,” Nelum said, as the others departed. “Where to?” Olgar asked, as the group gathered outside the building. “Shopping,” Wodyn replied cryptically. They headed to the center of town, Belarn explaining that he had been speaking to a dwarven bard about the bardic competition and the series of murders in the town. The bardic competition was the center of the town's attention, and was scheduled to start in the town square about five that evening. Many of the townsfolk seemed to think it would not go off, as several of the performers had been murdered. Kelly McGrath and Irene Mulaney were their names. “Don’ see what tha’ has t’ do wi’ us,” Olgar said, shaking his head. “We ha’ our own problems. Leave I’ t’ th’ watch. An’ pansy there, he don’ look t’ interested neither.” The elf had accompanied them, saying nothing. Near the town square, the adventurers came across a large gathering of locals. From the whispered murmur, it seemed there had been another murdur. Belarn and the elf, Streith, slipped away to try and get a better look, while Olgar simply stamped his feet impatiently. [i]Waste o’ bloody time; go join th’ watch if’n ye wants t’ play do-gooder detective.[/i] The two returned shortly. “A young girl was killed, “ Belarn related, “heart ripped out. Her name was Lydia Ferrier. A local, I think. Came in from an outlying farm to see the show. Odd – the dwarf said that the other girls had also had body parts removed.” “Well, watch’s got it in hand,” Olgar said dismissively. “Let’s be off then.” They strolled onward, the crowd thinning to nothing. Olgar heard a faint tinkling of chimes, and halted, looking around. Wodyn stopped as well. “I heard something,” the big man said, “and felt something, too. Can’t place it.” Olgar shrugged, and was about to move onward, when from a few feet ahead of them Belarn suddenly turned, a feral gleam in his eye. “I’m tired of always being picked on!” he shouted, and threw a dagger that planted itself in Olgar’s side.” Olgar gasped painfully, but the adrenaline began to build, and he whipped his sword from off his shoulder. “Aye, runt, ye’ll finally get what ye deserve!” he said, advancing. Wodyn got there first. Stepping forward quickly, he pulled out his axe and bopped Belarn over the head with the butt of it. The halfling collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Then the big man shuddered again. “Something just tried to push into my mind!” he cried in horror. [i]Mind leech,[/i] Olgar thought,[i] or worse. [/i] Reaching for his deepest faith, he channeled as much positive energy as he could muster. “Be Kraig, out wi’ ye!” he shouted, holding aloft his clenched fist. The translucent figure of a waspish girl manifested itself out of this air. The figure bled incorporeal blood from a gaping wound in its chest, and where its heart should have been beat a large purple crystal. Wodyn and Streith sprang forward, swinging their weapons. The figure began to dissolve, whispering a few words in a strange tongue before disappearing. “That was the girl whose body is in the street back there,” Streith said in horror, “I recognized he face. The words are elvish. She said: ‘The clues to our killer are in our names.’ “ “Aye, but what’s that mean?” Olgar said. He had healed his wound, but was still out of breath and quite irritable. If the halfling was possessed by a spirit, he wasn’t responsible for the attack. Olgar resolved to keep the dagger, just in case. Wodyn was reviving the stunned halfling. “What happened?” Belarn asked, “and why do I have a lump on my head?” [/QUOTE]
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