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Message: <blockquote data-quote="cthuluftaghn" data-source="post: 207067" data-attributes="member: 4799">Character 2: Davok<a href="http://home.cfl.rr.com/rtttoee/char_davok.htm" target="_blank">Davok</a> : Male Bar(4) – Davok is a simple man with simple needs. Actually, he has one very basic simple need. Food. Not the brightest tinder in the fire, but strong as two oxes, he’s a valuable member of any hunting party. Davok was sitting in his hunting camp doing what he does best. Eating.The night air was chilly this far north, but Davok’s great bulk kept him warm, even this far away from the campfire. Not much for conversation, the mighty barbarian often found himself sitting apart from the others. Left alone with his thoughts… few and far between as they may be… and his mutton, he was content.This was a particularly eventful expedition for Davok and his fellow tribesmen, as was evidenced by the loaded wagon at the back of the camp. It was Spring, and time to repair the damages of the past Winter, and to start preparing for the Winter to come. Already, the mighty hunters had gathered more than enough hides to meet their needs. Not only that, they had cleared out a clan of bugbears that could have posed a serious threat to the tribe! That battle was a tremendous success thanks to the fighting prowess of the mighty Davok.The barbarian warrior finished his late dinner (which is the meal that follows mid-dinner and early-dinner), and shuffled over to his bedroll for some much needed sleep. He had just settled down when a piercing shriek shattered the silence of the night. Davok sat bolt upright. That was the cry of an eagle!Davok grabbed his weapon and charged through the woods. The other members of the hunting party were on their feet as well. The men headed in the direction from which the noise came until they entered a small clearing, glowing with a dim light from an unseen source. It was the tree at the back of the bare patch of forest that caught Davok’s eye. On the pale bark of the wide trunk, the silhouette of a spread-winged eagle had been painted in still-fresh blood.The rest of the hunters were quite alarmed at this omen, but Davok was frantic. His attention was focused on the strange symbols scrawled beneath the crude painting. “Wiseman!” he called. “Where is the wiseman?!” He knew the symbols had great significance, but he couldn’t decipher their meaning.“I am here, great warrior. Fear not!” said the wiseman as he entered the clearing. “What is all the worry for?”“What are these markings, wiseman? What do they mean? I must know what these mean!” Davok pointed to the tree, his huge arms rippling with tension. “NOW, wiseman, what do they mean?”“Be calm, large one. These are no symbols of great mystical importance. It is simply a word in the common tongue. It reads, ‘Hommlet’. It means nothing. I believe it’s nothing more than an insignificant village to the south. Some rather interesting points about it, though, as I recall. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning if it will make you feel better. Now stop troubling yourself and go back to… where did Davok go?”Davok heard nothing beyond the word “Hommlet.” He was already half a mile away, heading toward the distant village by the time his fellow tribesmen realized he was gone.</blockquote>

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