Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Eccles" data-source="post: 484793" data-attributes="member: 5675">Jared Blackspawn’s JournalPart 1----------------------------------Kythorn 23rd - It has been two days since I saved the girl, Lora Krebble from a starving wolf’s attack. Yesterday the village was abuzz with speculation as to my identity, today seems quieter thus far, though I have overheard the occasional comment. All seem sincere in their gratitude for my timely invention, though tinged with the typical Daggerfolk reticence towards strangers of the general unknown.The town is being beset by wolves it seems, so my chances for further aiding the folk of Clearwater remain good. I must however take care to conceal my nature, for some time yet. These are a nervous people, weary of war and strife; they will not give their trust easily.Yesterday a messenger was sent to Dagger Falls to ask for help. He was dispatched by Mayor Butterstone, whom village rumour would have it is the man responsible for the pregnancy of the lady mage who lives here. A bounty has also been posted, 10 gold crowns per wolfs head, a shame that I will not be able to collect such. Still if the town wants dead wolves, then dead wolves it shall have. I will leave the heads by the properties of those who I deem to be most in need of the coins they will provide. I go now to hunt wolves, will write more later.Drat! I decided to trail the group of adventurers who had blindly struck out into the forest to go wolf hunting, in the hope of luring them towards some wolves that their blades and bows might find good use. Alas, two wolves were stalking me it seems, and when the group’s monk spotted me trailing them and pointed me out, I fled and ran straight into the wolves!Double Drat! The wolves damn near made a meal of me. I was saved by the group of adventurers and they then conveyed me to a priest of Chauntea. The entire village was soon gathered around my supine form as I was brought back from the edge of Vhaeraun's Kingdom. I awoke to find myself on trial. A Priestess of Kelemvor put a glamour on me, which compelled me to tell the truth, I did not fight it, once it had taken effect it would have been folly. I was questioned until the glamour wore off, and then jailed in a vault below the village Inn (also the Mayors house, the Inn acts too as the villages bank). After a few minutes, I was brought forth from my ad-hoc cell and told that I was to be placed in the custody of the adventurers, who were to keep an eye on me, and should I turn against the villages interests, see to it that I breathed no more. Not exactly the way I wished to join this community, but for the moment at least my head remains on my neck, so it shall suffice. For the time being until I can be trusted further, my home is the vault beneath the Inn, the darkness down here is soothing, and it is very quiet which suits me. Kythorn 24th - I was let out of the cellar this morning by the monk who introduced himself as Stedd of the Old Order. He is one of several monks resident at the Monastery a short distance from the village which I studied a few days back. The group set off to hunt wolves, my weapons being returned to me at this time on the condition that I led the group to the wolves and help them. They didn't notice when my reply omitted the part about helping them fight the wolves. Heading out to the north-east we spotted a small pack of wolves feasting on a downed horse... that of the rider who the mayor dispatched two days ago, it would seem he did not get far, as his own body was in the dirt nearby, partially eaten. We fought and defeated the wolves, with the unexpected aid of a moon elf who ran into the mêlée, calmly decapitated a wolf and headed straight back to the town and the caravan he had been escorting which had just arrived, no doubt to collect his mercenary salary. We then headed back to Clearwater with the wolf heads and the body of the messenger After a necessary diversion to the priest of Chauntea to tend our wounds, we made for the Inn to collect our bounties on the heads, the mayor looking less than thrilled to actually have some bloodied heads to deal with. Some people have no stomach for the sight of blood it seems. I have no such qualms. The elf then requested to join our group, and the dwarf who seems to be the leader agreed! Again, I am a witness to this strange acceptance of differences that these races seem to share amongst each other. Having said that, the look on the elf’s face when I dropped my hood was priceless. I feel at this time I should write of the composition of my keepers, so I have listed them thus Stedd - A Monk of the Old Order. Nimble in a fight, fleet of foot and fist, and fascinating to watch. Adheres to some form of martial code. Braddoc - A Dwarf warrior with a fierce temperament. Harshly spoken, he clearly prefers action to words. Seems to be the group leader for now. Lives at the village smithy Gorin Morgan - Unsure about this one at this time. Seem to take life less seriously than the others, a potential weak link. One to watch for signs of danger. A possible coward Rand Stormseeker - Apprentice to the village wizardess, so doubtless possessed of some magical skill. He shows an unusual disdain for books, so quite possibly a sorceror, rather than a true mage. He bears further study. Edrahil - I will watch this one like a hawk, as he will doubtless return the favour. He has proven himself deadly with a blade already, in time I shall know his other strengths. All in all an intriguing group, and with less immediate foes than I would have thought, Stedd seems to be the friendliest of them all, Rand the most mysterious. We retired for the rest of the day to lick our wounds and see to chores that some had about the village. I retired to the cellar. Kythorn 25th - I was not unlocked from the cellar today, so spent the day down here in the cool darkness. It was good to have time to meditate on recent developments. Kythorn 26th - Got back into town and delivered the wolf heads to the Mayor, whom I suspect is getting less pleased to see us constantly culling wolves, or at least with being presented with the evidence of our deeds. He seemed alarmed by Gorin bringing a live wolf pup into the village; the softheaded fool thinks he can train it! I inquired about the possibility of training with a local hunter and was told that no sheriff was present at this time, the dead messenger having been sent to fetch such. However, since goblins are in the area, Mayor Butterstone believes a sheriff could well have picked up their trail en route to this area, and have been following them, He dispatched a couple of local lads to see if such was the case. I tried to take up residence within Gorin's household, but after watching his uncle’s drunkard ranting, I decided I'd be better off in the Inn's cellar for a time longer, despite the Mayors unease at coming down there to fetch wines and beers knowing that I'm lurking about in the shadows Kythorn 27th - My respect for Gorin's uncle improved a notch this morning as he showed his face in the Inn while I was eating breakfast with Rand. He was carrying the bloodied body of the wolf pup. Thanks be to Vhaeraun for a swift (and exceedingly bloody by the looks of it) end to this embarrassing foe. As for Gorin, he showed up a bit later looking like a dog had had him for breakfast! I do enjoy a good laugh at someone else’s expense Around lunchtime a couple of lads helped a man into the Inn, he was severely wounded. After he had been patched up a bit, I got a chance to have a look at him. He was dressed in leathers and looked well travelled, quite possibly one of these sheriffs. My suspicion was soon proved correct, and it seems that the cause of his considerable injuries was an encounter with a band of goblins. I plied him with drink and questions (mainly the latter, he had a weak tolerance for liquor), and after some pressing, he agreed to teach me the basics of what he knows with regards to woodland lore and survival, as I feel a better knowledge of the wilds would greatly benefit me. Alfgeir is his name, which I found out just before he passed out drunk. I reluctantly took up the Mayor's offer of a room upstairs in the Inn as I think his nerves had worn a little thin with having to steel himself to enter his cellar each time, poor man Kythorn 28th to Flamerule 7th - The group has taken a tenday to rest and practice our skills, as our previous battle with the goblins showed that we are lacking strength in certain areas of expertise. I feel sure that we are now better prepared to hunt down and eradicate these pests. While training with Alfgeir, I took the liberty to order 20 more bolts for my hand crossbow from the village smithy, and they were delivered to me on the last day. Good workmanship, they will serve me well Flamerule 8th - We set off early today to seek out the goblin lair, using directions that Alfgeir gave me, with regards to the general area he managed to track them to before being ambushed. I swear the elf is going out of his way to annoy me. While I was busy trying to find tracks to follow, his thoughts were on nothing but feeding his stomach, often interfering in my efforts in placing his traps. I pray he catches nothing and that his efforts are wasted. One good part about this group not fully trusting me (if they even trust me at all) is I did not have to take a shift on watch as we camped tonight, one full nights sleep here I come! Flamerule 9th - This morning as we slept we were attacked by a warband of goblins who caught us unprepared, as it seems our watchman (whom I believe was Gorin!) was napping. During the fight I was witness to Braddoc succumbing to a frightening display of rage in the heat of battle. It would seem that he can channel that anger of his into combat prowess, even if it did look like he caught nothing for his own survival, being fully focussed on his foes demise. I believe I gave a good account of myself in the fight, dispatching a goblin that was battling Braddoc with ease. The dwarf did not thank me. With my newly honed tracking skills, I was easily able to lead the party along the route these raiders had taken, and to the goblins lair! However, the tracks also revealed the presence of a large humanoid in their midst, quite possibly a Troll. Stedd for all his calm demeanour, was clearly unnerved at the prospect of fighting such a beast, could it be a coward's heart beats beneath his breast? Also, we already have a fool in Gorin, and a maniac in Braddoc, quite the group of misfits I seem to have joined. The lair was a cave of reasonable size in a low cliff, some 7-8 miles from Clearwater. We ambushed the goblins at their lair, and in a drawn out fight emerged victorious against them, no mean feat since they had a shaman and an Ogre named Gronk with them (doubtless the cause of the large footprints I spotted earlier). As I surmised, Stedd proved himself a coward, when as the Ogre emerged from the cave, he fled, though he did return to engage the beast once it was clear the rest of us were not going to follow him in his flight. I am bitterly disappointed in my woeful showing in this fight, as I failed to dispatch even a single goblin. If I were back home I'd be beaten for sure (or worse) for such an abysmal performance, and I am lucky to still draw breath. Once the fighting was done we set to looting the lair. It seems the goblins had found an old vein of silver, and were busy mining it. The rest of the group decided to haul 3 chests full of silver ore back to town, a good day’s walk away. I managed to get out of doing any carrying, offering instead to scout ahead and on the flanks, to guard against any unpleasant surprises en route.</blockquote>

Verification