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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7102235" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Of course! </p><p></p><p>Here's part 3 of the story, continuing the meta-RPG theme. I'll post the Level 2 stats for the party at the end of this post.</p><p></p><p>* * * </p><p></p><p>Book 3: SIDEQUESTS</p><p></p><p>Chapter 29</p><p></p><p>Bredan stared into the dancing flames of the campfire and wondered if he’d made the right decision.</p><p></p><p>The rain had finally let up and it had actually turned out to be a pleasant evening. The lingering light of the sunset ignited the far horizon with a diverse palette of colors. The breeze that stirred the fire was mild, promising a relatively warm night. Bredan could hear the clatter of pots as Quellan cleaned up the dishes from the evening meal in the stream just behind their camp. Glori had gone off to attend to nature’s call, though he knew she would be close enough to bring the others quickly if something threatened. Kosk was seated across the fire, but the smith might as well have been alone for all the attention the dwarf gave him. That was fine with Bredan. His thoughts were distracted, and he mentally retraced the steps that had brought him back to the wilds in the company of his former companions.</p><p></p><p>The reaction in Crosspath to the King’s proclamation had been dramatic. Every time that Bredan had gone into town it seemed that it was the only topic of conversation. Among his peers there had been plenty of talk about signing up, taking the King’s coin and marching north to do battle with the fierce humanoids that had invaded the kingdom and slain the brave homesteaders of its northernmost province. From the tone of those discussions, many of the town’s young men weren’t even willing to wait until the royal recruiter arrived with the census roll and the pay chest.</p><p></p><p>Bredan hadn’t let himself get drawn into such talk. He’d been content to give his share of Starfinder’s reward to his uncle. The work of rebuilding the forge had already begun, and for several days Bredan found himself working from dawn to dusk and sometimes beyond. There was plenty to do, more than enough to leave him too tired to ponder abstract thoughts, but he still found his mind wandering. He certainly wasn’t nostalgic for the Dry Hills or the terrifying confrontations they’d had at the shrine of the Eth’barat, but it was difficult to lose himself in the mundane work of rebuilding the forge after everything that had happened.</p><p></p><p>His uncle hadn’t failed to notice the change. On the third morning after his return the elder Karras had taken Bredan aside. “I’ll be forever in debt to you for what you’ve done here, boy,” he said. “No, I suppose I can’t say that anymore. You’re a man now, and have been for quite some time. Rather too old to be an apprentice, I wager.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan had been too surprised to say anything. “I was thinking of taking on another boy when we get the forge going again,” his uncle had continued. “Business might be a bit slow this winter, what with so many of the younger men heading north. Not really enough work for two smiths.”</p><p></p><p>In hindsight, Bredan could recognize that his uncle had seen his situation more clearly than he had and was giving him a little push in the direction he’d already chosen to go.</p><p></p><p>He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Glori had come to that realization before he had. When Bredan had run into her in town he’d barely had a chance to tell her about his talk with his uncle before she was planning their trip north. She’d bought some new clothes and a few other assorted things but still had most of her share of the wizard’s gold, more than enough to buy supplies for the long journey to Adelar. Though presumably they wouldn’t need to spend too much; the royal proclamation included a directive that businesses along the route north provide room and board to recruits that were headed north to join the King’s army. The royal recruiter might not make it to distant Crosspath for weeks, but it didn’t take Glori long to secure a signed and stamped scroll from the town council that included their names and a list of references.</p><p></p><p>After all the chatter he’d heard Bredan had expected that they’d be heading north with a large band of recruits. But when the day came the horde of would-be soldiers failed to materialize. The young folk he ran into offered various excuses. There were the demands of the upcoming harvest, family commitments, and a stated desire to wait for the King’s man to arrive before signing up. When he and Glori had finally headed to the rendezvous on the eastern side of town there had been only two others who were waiting to join them.</p><p></p><p>In hindsight, maybe Bredan shouldn’t have been surprised to see them either.</p><p></p><p>Kosk had looked fit to chew rocks on seeing them, but Bredan thought that Quellan had looked pleased. The cleric and monk were the Abbess’s response to the King’s proclamation. But just maybe, it occurred much later to Bredan on the road, the odd pair had had as much difficulty fitting back into their lives at the monastery as he had at the forge.</p><p></p><p>There were no gifts or elaborate farewells this time around, other than some bundles of food that Glori’s friends had prepared for them. It seemed like Bredan’s folk hero status had already faded. Or maybe it had been something else. He’d noted that the young men who had seemed so eager just days before had gone out of their way to avoid taking notice of the small company as it left Crosspath and set out on the long and lonely road north. Maybe they’d resented him because he alone of the men his age in town, the only one who hadn’t bragged of war and adventure, had actually set out on that road.</p><p></p><p>The first few days of their journey had passed swiftly and unremarkably despite the weather, which remained rather dismal. But they all had waterproof cloaks and good boots, all save for Kosk, who didn’t seem to care how dirty his feet got. For a time he even removed his sandals and walked barefoot, his thick toes squelching in the mud.</p><p></p><p>The north road was hardly well-traveled and they’d only met a handful of other travelers, but they also didn’t run into any bandits or monsters. On the first three days of travel their only potentially dangerous encounter was with a giant boar, but the creature ran off into the trees at their approach. Kosk had muttered at missing a chance to improve their rations but Bredan had been secretly happy; he’d only gotten a quick look at the beast but it had possessed tusks as long as his arm. They had passed through several settlements, but they had all been tiny villages or hamlets, nothing approaching the size of Crosspath.</p><p></p><p>A heavy trudge of boots through the mud announced Quellan’s return to the camp and brought Bredan back to the present. A moment later Glori appeared from the opposite direction and happily sidled up to the fire. Quellan handed Bredan’s iron pot, now clean, back over to him. They had so quickly fallen back into their usual patterns that it almost felt to Bredan like they were old traveling companions rather than near-strangers who had first met less than two weeks ago.</p><p></p><p>“How long do you think it will take us to get to Adelar?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>Both Quellan and Glori started to respond; after a moment the half-orc shrugged and gestured for her to continue. “A week I’d say, maybe less if the sun comes out and the road dries out a bit,” she said. “We haven’t gotten very lucky with the summer storms thus far.”</p><p></p><p>“Winter storms would be a lot worse,” Kosk said.</p><p></p><p>“That is certainly true,” Glori said.</p><p></p><p>“Are there more settlements along the way?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>Kosk let out a snort. “Miss your warm bed, boy?”</p><p></p><p>“There’s nothing wrong in preferring a bed to the ground, or a hot meal in a common room to trail stew,” Bredan said. “No offense meant to your cooking, Quellan.”</p><p></p><p>“None taken,” the cleric said.</p><p></p><p>“The locals out here won’t be welcoming to folk like us,” Kosk said. “Out here in the wilds, strangers mean potential danger.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan hadn’t missed the looks they’d gotten in the tiny settlements they’d passed through thus far, especially the looks sent the half-orc’s way. “We’re on the King’s business.”</p><p></p><p>Kosk snorted again. “Aye, and look how much that’s gotten us thus far.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s too bad we’re not in the eastern part of the kingdom,” Glori said. “In the Liir Valley there are towns the size of Crosspath every few days on the main road, with decent inns filling out the gaps. Between the King’s writ and my own skills, I doubt we’d have paid for a room or a meal the entire trip north.”</p><p></p><p>“Might as well wish for a magic carriage to pop out of the aether and carry us off,” Kosk said. “It’s only rough lands between us and our destination, with equally rough people living on them. Marks on paper or sweet songs won’t sway them, only hard coin and hard words.”</p><p></p><p>“As always, your words offer inspiration to us in our journey,” Glori said dryly.</p><p></p><p>“It’s only truth,” Kosk said.</p><p></p><p>“I wonder what’s happening right now, in the north,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>“Nothing good,” Kosk said.</p><p></p><p>“I know you see me as a smith who only plays at arms,” Bredan said. “But I do understand what war is. My uncle was a soldier.” <em>And my father</em>, he didn’t add.</p><p></p><p>“This won’t be like any war you know,” Kosk said. “Not against this foe.” He looked like he was going to say more, but he glanced over at Quellan and abruptly fell silent.</p><p></p><p>“Kosk is right,” Quellan said. “Goblinoids are not like the civilized races. They care only about raw power and bare self-interest. In that they are much like the orcs. I fear that the only resolution to this crisis will be the utter destruction of these invaders, with no quarter asked or given on either side.”</p><p></p><p>Quellan’s statement killed the conversation and the companions sought out their bedrolls. It was Bredan’s turn to keep first watch, and Kosk sent him a long, meaningful look before he wrapped himself in the thin drape that was his only protection from the night chill and went to sleep. Bredan hadn’t fallen asleep again on watch since that one time near the shrine, but on this night he doubted he’d have any trouble staying awake, not after the conversation they’d just had. He remembered the dead bugbears they’d encountered in the shrine. He tried to imagine one of those huge creatures alive and coming for him with an axe. The shudder that passed through him had nothing to do with the night chill.</p><p></p><p>Careful not to make any noises that might disturb the others, he took up his sword and moved off a short distance from the campfire to begin his vigil.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7102235, member: 143"] Of course! Here's part 3 of the story, continuing the meta-RPG theme. I'll post the Level 2 stats for the party at the end of this post. * * * Book 3: SIDEQUESTS Chapter 29 Bredan stared into the dancing flames of the campfire and wondered if he’d made the right decision. The rain had finally let up and it had actually turned out to be a pleasant evening. The lingering light of the sunset ignited the far horizon with a diverse palette of colors. The breeze that stirred the fire was mild, promising a relatively warm night. Bredan could hear the clatter of pots as Quellan cleaned up the dishes from the evening meal in the stream just behind their camp. Glori had gone off to attend to nature’s call, though he knew she would be close enough to bring the others quickly if something threatened. Kosk was seated across the fire, but the smith might as well have been alone for all the attention the dwarf gave him. That was fine with Bredan. His thoughts were distracted, and he mentally retraced the steps that had brought him back to the wilds in the company of his former companions. The reaction in Crosspath to the King’s proclamation had been dramatic. Every time that Bredan had gone into town it seemed that it was the only topic of conversation. Among his peers there had been plenty of talk about signing up, taking the King’s coin and marching north to do battle with the fierce humanoids that had invaded the kingdom and slain the brave homesteaders of its northernmost province. From the tone of those discussions, many of the town’s young men weren’t even willing to wait until the royal recruiter arrived with the census roll and the pay chest. Bredan hadn’t let himself get drawn into such talk. He’d been content to give his share of Starfinder’s reward to his uncle. The work of rebuilding the forge had already begun, and for several days Bredan found himself working from dawn to dusk and sometimes beyond. There was plenty to do, more than enough to leave him too tired to ponder abstract thoughts, but he still found his mind wandering. He certainly wasn’t nostalgic for the Dry Hills or the terrifying confrontations they’d had at the shrine of the Eth’barat, but it was difficult to lose himself in the mundane work of rebuilding the forge after everything that had happened. His uncle hadn’t failed to notice the change. On the third morning after his return the elder Karras had taken Bredan aside. “I’ll be forever in debt to you for what you’ve done here, boy,” he said. “No, I suppose I can’t say that anymore. You’re a man now, and have been for quite some time. Rather too old to be an apprentice, I wager.” Bredan had been too surprised to say anything. “I was thinking of taking on another boy when we get the forge going again,” his uncle had continued. “Business might be a bit slow this winter, what with so many of the younger men heading north. Not really enough work for two smiths.” In hindsight, Bredan could recognize that his uncle had seen his situation more clearly than he had and was giving him a little push in the direction he’d already chosen to go. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Glori had come to that realization before he had. When Bredan had run into her in town he’d barely had a chance to tell her about his talk with his uncle before she was planning their trip north. She’d bought some new clothes and a few other assorted things but still had most of her share of the wizard’s gold, more than enough to buy supplies for the long journey to Adelar. Though presumably they wouldn’t need to spend too much; the royal proclamation included a directive that businesses along the route north provide room and board to recruits that were headed north to join the King’s army. The royal recruiter might not make it to distant Crosspath for weeks, but it didn’t take Glori long to secure a signed and stamped scroll from the town council that included their names and a list of references. After all the chatter he’d heard Bredan had expected that they’d be heading north with a large band of recruits. But when the day came the horde of would-be soldiers failed to materialize. The young folk he ran into offered various excuses. There were the demands of the upcoming harvest, family commitments, and a stated desire to wait for the King’s man to arrive before signing up. When he and Glori had finally headed to the rendezvous on the eastern side of town there had been only two others who were waiting to join them. In hindsight, maybe Bredan shouldn’t have been surprised to see them either. Kosk had looked fit to chew rocks on seeing them, but Bredan thought that Quellan had looked pleased. The cleric and monk were the Abbess’s response to the King’s proclamation. But just maybe, it occurred much later to Bredan on the road, the odd pair had had as much difficulty fitting back into their lives at the monastery as he had at the forge. There were no gifts or elaborate farewells this time around, other than some bundles of food that Glori’s friends had prepared for them. It seemed like Bredan’s folk hero status had already faded. Or maybe it had been something else. He’d noted that the young men who had seemed so eager just days before had gone out of their way to avoid taking notice of the small company as it left Crosspath and set out on the long and lonely road north. Maybe they’d resented him because he alone of the men his age in town, the only one who hadn’t bragged of war and adventure, had actually set out on that road. The first few days of their journey had passed swiftly and unremarkably despite the weather, which remained rather dismal. But they all had waterproof cloaks and good boots, all save for Kosk, who didn’t seem to care how dirty his feet got. For a time he even removed his sandals and walked barefoot, his thick toes squelching in the mud. The north road was hardly well-traveled and they’d only met a handful of other travelers, but they also didn’t run into any bandits or monsters. On the first three days of travel their only potentially dangerous encounter was with a giant boar, but the creature ran off into the trees at their approach. Kosk had muttered at missing a chance to improve their rations but Bredan had been secretly happy; he’d only gotten a quick look at the beast but it had possessed tusks as long as his arm. They had passed through several settlements, but they had all been tiny villages or hamlets, nothing approaching the size of Crosspath. A heavy trudge of boots through the mud announced Quellan’s return to the camp and brought Bredan back to the present. A moment later Glori appeared from the opposite direction and happily sidled up to the fire. Quellan handed Bredan’s iron pot, now clean, back over to him. They had so quickly fallen back into their usual patterns that it almost felt to Bredan like they were old traveling companions rather than near-strangers who had first met less than two weeks ago. “How long do you think it will take us to get to Adelar?” Bredan asked. Both Quellan and Glori started to respond; after a moment the half-orc shrugged and gestured for her to continue. “A week I’d say, maybe less if the sun comes out and the road dries out a bit,” she said. “We haven’t gotten very lucky with the summer storms thus far.” “Winter storms would be a lot worse,” Kosk said. “That is certainly true,” Glori said. “Are there more settlements along the way?” Bredan asked. Kosk let out a snort. “Miss your warm bed, boy?” “There’s nothing wrong in preferring a bed to the ground, or a hot meal in a common room to trail stew,” Bredan said. “No offense meant to your cooking, Quellan.” “None taken,” the cleric said. “The locals out here won’t be welcoming to folk like us,” Kosk said. “Out here in the wilds, strangers mean potential danger.” Bredan hadn’t missed the looks they’d gotten in the tiny settlements they’d passed through thus far, especially the looks sent the half-orc’s way. “We’re on the King’s business.” Kosk snorted again. “Aye, and look how much that’s gotten us thus far.” “It’s too bad we’re not in the eastern part of the kingdom,” Glori said. “In the Liir Valley there are towns the size of Crosspath every few days on the main road, with decent inns filling out the gaps. Between the King’s writ and my own skills, I doubt we’d have paid for a room or a meal the entire trip north.” “Might as well wish for a magic carriage to pop out of the aether and carry us off,” Kosk said. “It’s only rough lands between us and our destination, with equally rough people living on them. Marks on paper or sweet songs won’t sway them, only hard coin and hard words.” “As always, your words offer inspiration to us in our journey,” Glori said dryly. “It’s only truth,” Kosk said. “I wonder what’s happening right now, in the north,” Bredan said. “Nothing good,” Kosk said. “I know you see me as a smith who only plays at arms,” Bredan said. “But I do understand what war is. My uncle was a soldier.” [i]And my father[/i], he didn’t add. “This won’t be like any war you know,” Kosk said. “Not against this foe.” He looked like he was going to say more, but he glanced over at Quellan and abruptly fell silent. “Kosk is right,” Quellan said. “Goblinoids are not like the civilized races. They care only about raw power and bare self-interest. In that they are much like the orcs. I fear that the only resolution to this crisis will be the utter destruction of these invaders, with no quarter asked or given on either side.” Quellan’s statement killed the conversation and the companions sought out their bedrolls. It was Bredan’s turn to keep first watch, and Kosk sent him a long, meaningful look before he wrapped himself in the thin drape that was his only protection from the night chill and went to sleep. Bredan hadn’t fallen asleep again on watch since that one time near the shrine, but on this night he doubted he’d have any trouble staying awake, not after the conversation they’d just had. He remembered the dead bugbears they’d encountered in the shrine. He tried to imagine one of those huge creatures alive and coming for him with an axe. The shudder that passed through him had nothing to do with the night chill. Careful not to make any noises that might disturb the others, he took up his sword and moved off a short distance from the campfire to begin his vigil. [/QUOTE]
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