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The Adventures of Olgar Shiverstone (Angelsboi: In memorium)
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<blockquote data-quote="Olgar Shiverstone" data-source="post: 289258" data-attributes="member: 5868"><p><strong>Chpt 4, cont.</strong></p><p></p><p>The next morning the group gathered in the common room. Nelum was showing off the rat that his magic had attracted the night before. He had named the rodent “Cand,” and insisted on walking around with the thing perched on his shoulder.</p><p></p><p><em>Looks even more like a bloody peacock,</em> Olgar sneered. He was reading the “want ads” that were posted on the wall.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, here’s somethin’ tha’ might be up our alley,” he announced to the others,” it says ‘adventurers needed to rid house of goblin infestation and recover family heirloom’. Tha’ sounds like good, honest work – smackin’ greenies around. Wha ye think?”</p><p></p><p>The others had no objection, and Wodyn actually growled at the mention of goblins.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, says here to contact Johann somebody-or-other. Wonder where we find ‘im?”</p><p></p><p>“He’s right here,” said a voice from behind them. A small sallow man was standing up from a table and walking over toward them. “I’m Johann. A goblin tribe raided my home and stole a priceless family heirloom. I need some help to get it back.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye, then, how many were there, an’ wha’d they take?” Olgar asked. “Presume ye live on a farmstead ‘r summat?”</p><p></p><p>“No, I live here in the city, against the east wall.” Olgar raised an eyebrow. “There were about seventy-five of them. I think they used magic, and teleported into my house, or something.” Olgar raised his other eyebrow, and turned to Belarn, who was making a circling motion around one ear with his finger. The man continued: “They took a magical sword that has been in my family’s possession for generations. I’d gladly offer 300 gold each for its recovery.”</p><p></p><p>Olgar’s beady eyes took on a greedy look, and he began to rub his hands together. Wodyn asked, “Why not just go to the city watch?”</p><p></p><p>Johann looked horrified. “They’d probably tax me for it, or confiscate it, or worse. I need it recovered quietly!”</p><p></p><p>“Aye, we’ll take th’ job, then,” Olgar decided. “Ken ye lead us t’ yer house?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m not going back there if the goblins are still around,” Johann replied, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m paying you for. Here’s the directions.” He rambled off some directions.</p><p></p><p>At that point there came a buzzing noise, and Wodyn held up the small piece of slate that was flashing red and vibrating.</p><p></p><p>“Well, we’ve got summat t’ do b’fore we ken looks th’ place over,” Olgar explained, “but we’ll be out there first thing t’morrow.”</p><p></p><p>Johann nodded. The rest of the party rose to their feet, and they followed Wodyn back to the Temple of Obi, where they presented the vibrating slate. They were immediately ushered inside and down to the secret room in the catacombs, where the priest they had met the day before was waiting for them.</p><p></p><p>He handed Wodyn a roll of parchments. “Here are the scrolls you requested. Healing spells.” Wodyn handed the rolls to Olgar.</p><p></p><p>“As to the other items,” the priest continued. “the sickle is of very high quality, quite sharp, and it’s magic allows it to strike more efficiently, though it has no other special powers. The dagger is also enchanted, and will drain part of the life energy out of whomever it strikes. The necklace will produce magical blasts of fire, if its gems are removed and thrown. The larger gems produce larger blasts.” He gave the items back to Wodyn, who handed the dagger to Belarn, and the necklace to Nelum.</p><p></p><p>“Time fer a bit o’ an auction!” Olgar said greedily, “tha’ sickle‘ll go t’ th’ highest bidder!”</p><p></p><p>“That’s not a wise idea,” the priest offered.</p><p></p><p>“An’ why not?” Olgar countered.</p><p></p><p>“The local government is not … friendly to free enterprise,” the priest explained. “They would most likely quash the auction and confiscate the item for failure to file proper taxes. That is essentially what they did to the Temple of Veriday, when the leaders there had issues with the Justice League’s brand of justice. I can put you in touch with a factor who will likely purchase the item for further sale, if you like.”</p><p></p><p>“Do it,” Wodyn agreed. The priest scurried off to send a message, and returned a few minutes later.</p><p></p><p>“Your meeting with the lady is arranged. See the blind merchant,” the priest said, scribbling directions. “He will be your contact. Of course, you must keep all of this quite confidential.”</p><p></p><p>“No problem,” Wodyn agreed, as they departed.</p><p></p><p><em>No problem,</em> Olgar thought. <em>Either the “Justice League” is a bunch a’ bloomin’ idjits, ‘r th’ whole house o’ cards is about t’ come crashin’ down. We been in town less than 24 hours, an’ already found th’ underground adventurers guild, secret resistance t’ th’ government, an’ th’ thieves guild er summat. No bloody city council could be tha’ incompetent. Kraig save me from such buffoons.</em></p><p></p><p>They followed the priest’s directions to a small building whose sign boldly proclaimed “The Blind Merchant.”</p><p></p><p>“Catchy name,” Olgar observed as they entered.</p><p></p><p>The shop was a general store, which sold a great deal of normal clothing in addition to general supplies. The shop’s namesake, the blind merchant, was sitting on a stool behind the counter as they entered.</p><p></p><p>“May I help you?” he asked as they entered.</p><p></p><p>“We’re here to see your lady friend about some merchandise,” Wodyn explained.</p><p></p><p>“Just a moment,” the man said, disappearing into the back room. He returned a moment later. “You’re expected. Follow me please.”</p><p></p><p><em>Didn’t even ask for identification. These buggers won’t last long.</em></p><p></p><p>They followed the man into the back room, and then descended a ladder into a basement chamber. There, seated behind a table, was a woman and two roguish companions.</p><p></p><p>“We’ve got a magical item we were told you might be willing to purchase,” Wodyn offered.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, I know,” the woman replied. “We often buy such things, then pass them on to other buyers. You won’t get market price, but it’s the best you’ll do in this town. Let me see the item.”</p><p></p><p>Wodyn passed the sickle over, and the woman examined it, offering it to one of her companions, who also looked it over closely. Then, after a few moments bargaining with Wodyn, they settled on a price of 500 platinum coins.</p><p></p><p>“Is there anything else?” the woman asked, when she had passed over their payment.</p><p></p><p>“No,” Wodyn said, rising to leave.</p><p></p><p>“You understand if you speak one word about us to anyone, we’ll have you killed,” she concluded matter-of-factly.</p><p></p><p>“Na’er heard o’ye, lassie,” Olgar said, and they departed. </p><p></p><p>Once upstairs, they divided up the platinum coins, a hundred coins per, and split up to do some shopping on their own. Belarn headed back inside, ostensibly to browse the lingerie aisle, but Olgar had overheard him talking about poison earlier in the day.</p><p></p><p>Olgar took his share and searched out the finest smith he could find. By the time he returned to the Lit Lantern, he had exchanged his battered suit of scale mail for a nicely made suit of steel banded armor, and replaced his simple but serviceable crossbow with a much more finely crafted model. </p><p></p><p><em>Easy come, easy go, </em>he mused. <em>Time t’ smite some greenies!</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Olgar Shiverstone, post: 289258, member: 5868"] [b]Chpt 4, cont.[/b] The next morning the group gathered in the common room. Nelum was showing off the rat that his magic had attracted the night before. He had named the rodent “Cand,” and insisted on walking around with the thing perched on his shoulder. [i]Looks even more like a bloody peacock,[/i] Olgar sneered. He was reading the “want ads” that were posted on the wall. “Aye, here’s somethin’ tha’ might be up our alley,” he announced to the others,” it says ‘adventurers needed to rid house of goblin infestation and recover family heirloom’. Tha’ sounds like good, honest work – smackin’ greenies around. Wha ye think?” The others had no objection, and Wodyn actually growled at the mention of goblins. “Aye, says here to contact Johann somebody-or-other. Wonder where we find ‘im?” “He’s right here,” said a voice from behind them. A small sallow man was standing up from a table and walking over toward them. “I’m Johann. A goblin tribe raided my home and stole a priceless family heirloom. I need some help to get it back.” “Aye, then, how many were there, an’ wha’d they take?” Olgar asked. “Presume ye live on a farmstead ‘r summat?” “No, I live here in the city, against the east wall.” Olgar raised an eyebrow. “There were about seventy-five of them. I think they used magic, and teleported into my house, or something.” Olgar raised his other eyebrow, and turned to Belarn, who was making a circling motion around one ear with his finger. The man continued: “They took a magical sword that has been in my family’s possession for generations. I’d gladly offer 300 gold each for its recovery.” Olgar’s beady eyes took on a greedy look, and he began to rub his hands together. Wodyn asked, “Why not just go to the city watch?” Johann looked horrified. “They’d probably tax me for it, or confiscate it, or worse. I need it recovered quietly!” “Aye, we’ll take th’ job, then,” Olgar decided. “Ken ye lead us t’ yer house?” “I’m not going back there if the goblins are still around,” Johann replied, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m paying you for. Here’s the directions.” He rambled off some directions. At that point there came a buzzing noise, and Wodyn held up the small piece of slate that was flashing red and vibrating. “Well, we’ve got summat t’ do b’fore we ken looks th’ place over,” Olgar explained, “but we’ll be out there first thing t’morrow.” Johann nodded. The rest of the party rose to their feet, and they followed Wodyn back to the Temple of Obi, where they presented the vibrating slate. They were immediately ushered inside and down to the secret room in the catacombs, where the priest they had met the day before was waiting for them. He handed Wodyn a roll of parchments. “Here are the scrolls you requested. Healing spells.” Wodyn handed the rolls to Olgar. “As to the other items,” the priest continued. “the sickle is of very high quality, quite sharp, and it’s magic allows it to strike more efficiently, though it has no other special powers. The dagger is also enchanted, and will drain part of the life energy out of whomever it strikes. The necklace will produce magical blasts of fire, if its gems are removed and thrown. The larger gems produce larger blasts.” He gave the items back to Wodyn, who handed the dagger to Belarn, and the necklace to Nelum. “Time fer a bit o’ an auction!” Olgar said greedily, “tha’ sickle‘ll go t’ th’ highest bidder!” “That’s not a wise idea,” the priest offered. “An’ why not?” Olgar countered. “The local government is not … friendly to free enterprise,” the priest explained. “They would most likely quash the auction and confiscate the item for failure to file proper taxes. That is essentially what they did to the Temple of Veriday, when the leaders there had issues with the Justice League’s brand of justice. I can put you in touch with a factor who will likely purchase the item for further sale, if you like.” “Do it,” Wodyn agreed. The priest scurried off to send a message, and returned a few minutes later. “Your meeting with the lady is arranged. See the blind merchant,” the priest said, scribbling directions. “He will be your contact. Of course, you must keep all of this quite confidential.” “No problem,” Wodyn agreed, as they departed. [i]No problem,[/i] Olgar thought. [i]Either the “Justice League” is a bunch a’ bloomin’ idjits, ‘r th’ whole house o’ cards is about t’ come crashin’ down. We been in town less than 24 hours, an’ already found th’ underground adventurers guild, secret resistance t’ th’ government, an’ th’ thieves guild er summat. No bloody city council could be tha’ incompetent. Kraig save me from such buffoons.[/i] They followed the priest’s directions to a small building whose sign boldly proclaimed “The Blind Merchant.” “Catchy name,” Olgar observed as they entered. The shop was a general store, which sold a great deal of normal clothing in addition to general supplies. The shop’s namesake, the blind merchant, was sitting on a stool behind the counter as they entered. “May I help you?” he asked as they entered. “We’re here to see your lady friend about some merchandise,” Wodyn explained. “Just a moment,” the man said, disappearing into the back room. He returned a moment later. “You’re expected. Follow me please.” [i]Didn’t even ask for identification. These buggers won’t last long.[/i] They followed the man into the back room, and then descended a ladder into a basement chamber. There, seated behind a table, was a woman and two roguish companions. “We’ve got a magical item we were told you might be willing to purchase,” Wodyn offered. “Yes, I know,” the woman replied. “We often buy such things, then pass them on to other buyers. You won’t get market price, but it’s the best you’ll do in this town. Let me see the item.” Wodyn passed the sickle over, and the woman examined it, offering it to one of her companions, who also looked it over closely. Then, after a few moments bargaining with Wodyn, they settled on a price of 500 platinum coins. “Is there anything else?” the woman asked, when she had passed over their payment. “No,” Wodyn said, rising to leave. “You understand if you speak one word about us to anyone, we’ll have you killed,” she concluded matter-of-factly. “Na’er heard o’ye, lassie,” Olgar said, and they departed. Once upstairs, they divided up the platinum coins, a hundred coins per, and split up to do some shopping on their own. Belarn headed back inside, ostensibly to browse the lingerie aisle, but Olgar had overheard him talking about poison earlier in the day. Olgar took his share and searched out the finest smith he could find. By the time he returned to the Lit Lantern, he had exchanged his battered suit of scale mail for a nicely made suit of steel banded armor, and replaced his simple but serviceable crossbow with a much more finely crafted model. [i]Easy come, easy go, [/i]he mused. [i]Time t’ smite some greenies![/i] [/QUOTE]
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