In The Tall Dark Pines: A Tale of Braxus

[scadgrad]

The party approaches the gate where upon they are asked to halt briefly. Satisfied by your answers, the guards allow you to enter.

As you walk through the mud, you get a better view of the three large structures. One is a hannite church, with a rough hewn wreath some 10 feet in diameter adorning the top of its pointed roof. It appears empty at the moment.

Beyond this is the massive festhause, from inside you hear the sounds of patrons laughing and talking loudly. Some of the revelers are well in to their cups. Overlooking the village on a small hill at the very edge of the compound is a wooden & stone greathouse, clearly the residence of someone of great power & significance.

 

[purple knight]

DM--We proceed on to the festhause.
Quzeem: Jurgi, once we are inside, will you assist us in securing lodging for the night?

 

[scadgrad]

The party moves into the great hall of the festhaus, and you're quite surprised to find out that there are perhaps no more than a dozen or so patrons inside. There are no private rooms here, just one large hall, but after swift negotiations by Jurgi, you are brought ale and dark bread. You find a corner to sleep in without much effort as there's plenty of room to avoid the other patrons if you wish.

*Quazeem will catch the bill of 8 silver dinars*

 

[purple knight]

DM--Quazeem is looking around the room trying to get the general "feel" of the populace-are they festive, subdued, apprehensive, etc. Also, what is the make up of the populace--Hudan, Dortish? If there are Hudans, Quazeem will approach them and attempt to strike up a converstation, inquiring into current events, etc. If they are Dortish, he will still approach them and try to communicate as best he can (He speaks Hudan, Dolem, Assydian, and Hybrinish).

 

[scadgrad]

The room is primarily peopled by local Hjalmars, though in truth, Quazeem has little success in distinguishing between the Hjalamar and their Dortish neighbors. There is an odd-looking collection of travelers who appear to be celebrating. Before you approach them, you happen to overhear something about "the broadsword" and "spriggans."

You're a bit taken aback as you notice that the slim "man" that you took for a hannite priest is actually a sidhe. He is laughing at the antics of a rather animated young Hudan teen and they turn to face you as you approach. A few of their fellows chat behind them, trading stories over a few ales.

In your best Hudan (the common tongue for this campaign, but obviously a very alien language to poor Quazeem), and bringing all of your diplomatic skills to bare, you attempt to strike up a conversation. They are polite, but the others glare at you, and you think it perhaps best to try again on the 'morrow.

 

[scadgrad]

Quick definitions for newbs to Braxus...

Spriggans_the smallest of the (non-sprite) unseelie fae, perhaps a foot or so in height they are common throughout Braxus. Though they pose little danger to armed combatants, they are highly magical in nature and when encountered in a covey, they will typically manifest some spell-like ability. Like all of the lesser fae, they are extremely warry of the Sidhe and the sight of an angry Sidhe is very distressful to these baleful little imps.


SPOILER WARNING

PURPLE KNIGHT,

Do not read the following grey text post as it is back story for the other group.

 

[scadgrad]

Backstory

Scathach and William had been lucky so far. Sure charm, good jokes and a relatively deep coin purse can get you far, but life on the road had been remarkably good to the two companions. This last turn of events had been indicative of just how fortuitous life can occasionally be.

Having came thus to Necrovidia to explore the ancient Mhalyarii ruins, they had gathered a small group of like-minded opportunists and struck out to the south. With the cold winds that blow across the Firth of Kolinkar at their backs, they made their way toward the small village of Abjanzl, therein, to consult with a local witch whose reputation for ancient lore was well known.

Along the road, fate once again provided the two with a surprising bounty. A rather large covey of spriggans seemed to be arguing over something. The chance meeting seemed like it would soon escalate into violence w/ both Argento & Jackson drawing steel before the hapless creatures could even react. Before any blows could be struck however, the Sidhe strode forward, his anger directed at these dirty little creatures. Half of the dozen or so spriggans quivered, visibly shaken by this terrible, yet noble creature that they beheld. Another group fled in abject terror leaving only their startled companions and a pungent scent in the warm spring air. Two of the pathetic creatures dropped to their knees in complete terror as the remainder fled the scene.

After dispatching the little vermin, for no Seelie court Noble such as Scathach could allow them to live, no matter how pitiful they might seem, the party discovered the source of all of the bickering. A corpse, long dead, but in life, clearly this had been a man of considerable skill at arms.

The party searched the body, collected a few items and some coin, and buried the poor fellow. The 53 gold coins and some 27 silver were welcome additions to the group's coffer, but the pattern welded Hudan broadsword with its delicate runes that ran along the length of the blade was an incredible find. Clearly it would fetch a handsome price if sold, but William quickly asserted that it might be too valuable to be swapped for coin or gems. Perhaps the witch in Abjanzl, now a mere 2 days away, could peruse the blade & tell them more.

The party may add the following to its coffers:

57 gp worth of coinage
a pattern welded Hudan broadsword
a pair of matching daggers
a large steele shield

 

[Drakknyte32]

William Fyre / Sorceror 1

OOC: I assume we can start posting then

A young lad with a Raven on his shoulders sits at the table. He is eating a remarkably large amount of the plain tavern fair with great relish and is talking to his Sidhe companion between mouthfuls.

"So those little creatures are called Spriggans? They sure were tiny, Nevermore could probably have nocked one down with a sweep of his wings. It's amazing what you can see when you travel, I've never seen anything like them on the farm."

"And the money too, 53 whole gold pieces! My families life savings were only 15. The man must have been rich."

He glances up at the man who just arrived and smiles. He looks like he is about to say something but a new platter of food arrives and instead he begins gulping down food as only a growing boy can, occasionally giving pieces to the raven.

 

[scadgrad]

For all parties concerned, the night passes without incident and the next day dawns a warm, overcast day.

Quazeem rising early for his morning devotions has just finished his recitation of the 47 beatitudes when he is approached by a concerned Jurgi.

Jurgi_"I rose early at your bequest my Lord and have been well recieved by my wife's 2nd cousins."

The little man offers the monk a small loaf of brown bread and a pair of yellow apples.

"It would appear that the wise woman has not been receiving visitors of late."

They share a few more words between them and the monk rushes back into the festhaus where he quickly rouses his large Hudan companion. He casts a furtive glance in the direction of the young adventurers, and soon he and the hudan have gathered their gear and are gone.

They have not escaped the attentions however of a keen set of eyes watching from the shadows. Evermore lands gently on the shoulder of his master who quickly wakes a few of his companions.

 

[scadgrad]

OOC: I assume we can start posting then

Absolutely.