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Island Empire, Part III, The Lich's Curse
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<blockquote data-quote="Scotley" data-source="post: 4226947" data-attributes="member: 11520"><p><strong>Balmal Castle</strong></p><p></p><p>You journey up into the highlands of Cambre, far enough inland that you can no longer hear or smell the sea. Eventually, at a modest sized village the Carriage clatters off the main road onto a dirt track that takes you past pleasant looking little farms and one or two small hamlets. The houses seem prosperorous if small. Pigs, chickens and horses seem more common than people here. Some of you doze made drowsey by the warm afternoon and the rocking of the carriage, but you are awakened as the horses' hooves clatter through a covered bridge over a little river. The road curves upward to dark somewhat shabby looking castle. The trees have been allowed to grow close to the walls and one is even covered in ivy. The big wooden gates stand open and don't look like they've been closed in years. The carriage moves slowly into a courtyard that is barely large enough for the big vehecle. A couple of elderly servants move to welcome you. One has been sitting in the shade whittling while the other was grooming an old horse that looks as if it could barely hold up a saddle, much less a rider. The place could use a little work, but seems sound enough. The whittler bows as best his stiff old back will allow and announces in a crackling voice,<span style="color: SandyBrown"> "welcome to Balmal castle good sirs. I'll take ye to the lord if ye wishes it."</span> Without waiting for an answer he moves off slowly toward a side door in the keep. The large front door might well be too heavy for the old fellow to move. The kitchen postern stands open and you enter the undercroft of the round tower that is the keep. It is mid-afternoon and a round middle-aged woman and a younger scullery maid, almost certainly the cooks daughter are at work on a simple meal. Loaves of bread likely made fresh this morning stand ready and they are plucking game birds to go into a roasting pan of vegetables that have been peeled and sliced. The old man licks his lips as you pass thorugh, <span style="color: SandyBrown">"Gamekeep got a brace of partriges this morning. Twill be a fine supper this even'"</span> He makes his way up a curving ramp that leads to the next floor up. This level, where the main door enters is the 'great' hall, though perhaps modest hall describes it better. A large table and a big soot stained fireplace are the main features of the room. Moving up a stair you come to a door at the landing and the old man taps. Appearantly getting an assent, he opens the door. "Visitor's my lord. This is..." he pauses not having asked your name or business. "Ah...what was that name again he asks those in front of the group." Beyond the door is appearantly the Lord's personal study. A room almost as big as the hall below. The room is filled with books, and oddiments including a stuffed owlbear and several skulls. Paintings and tapestries are hidden behind heaps of books and brick-a-brack. While there are clean rushes on the floor the room could use the services of a maid. There are not enough chairs for you all to be seated. A man of late middle-age behind a big desk announces, <span style="color: Indigo">"Welcome, I am Fredrick Balmal. I have been expecting you."</span> A pair of continual flame lamps light the area around the desk brightly, but the far reaches of the room are shadowy at best. <span style="color: Indigo">"Lad, fetch these gentlefolk some wine, we'll finish the letter later."</span> A gangly lad of perhaps 13 rises from beside the desk and puts down a quill and pen. His tonsure haircut and robe with the scroll and candle of the god of knowledge mark him as an acolyte-scribe. At a cask in a stand near a slitted window, he pours wine from the tap into an assortment of mismatched cups ranging from a simple wooden mug to a jeweled golden vessel that could be an alter piece in a fine temple. The boy seems to pay little attention giving his Lord one of the simpler cups and handing Finn massive jeweled one worth thousands. The wine proves to a sour cheap red that has not benefitted from a long stay in the low quality barrel. <span style="color: Indigo">"What can I do for you good folk today? I only know that you are seeking my expertise in a matter of some urgency."</span></p><p></p><p>OOC: Roll a spot check if you like...</p><p></p><p>[sblock=0-10]You eyes have trouble adjusting to the dim light and you can see little beyond the well lit desk.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p>[sblock=10+]On a distant side board are a few ornate bottles, unmarked, but likely to contain far more interesting spirits than the foul wine.[/sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scotley, post: 4226947, member: 11520"] [b]Balmal Castle[/b] You journey up into the highlands of Cambre, far enough inland that you can no longer hear or smell the sea. Eventually, at a modest sized village the Carriage clatters off the main road onto a dirt track that takes you past pleasant looking little farms and one or two small hamlets. The houses seem prosperorous if small. Pigs, chickens and horses seem more common than people here. Some of you doze made drowsey by the warm afternoon and the rocking of the carriage, but you are awakened as the horses' hooves clatter through a covered bridge over a little river. The road curves upward to dark somewhat shabby looking castle. The trees have been allowed to grow close to the walls and one is even covered in ivy. The big wooden gates stand open and don't look like they've been closed in years. The carriage moves slowly into a courtyard that is barely large enough for the big vehecle. A couple of elderly servants move to welcome you. One has been sitting in the shade whittling while the other was grooming an old horse that looks as if it could barely hold up a saddle, much less a rider. The place could use a little work, but seems sound enough. The whittler bows as best his stiff old back will allow and announces in a crackling voice,[COLOR=SandyBrown] "welcome to Balmal castle good sirs. I'll take ye to the lord if ye wishes it."[/COLOR] Without waiting for an answer he moves off slowly toward a side door in the keep. The large front door might well be too heavy for the old fellow to move. The kitchen postern stands open and you enter the undercroft of the round tower that is the keep. It is mid-afternoon and a round middle-aged woman and a younger scullery maid, almost certainly the cooks daughter are at work on a simple meal. Loaves of bread likely made fresh this morning stand ready and they are plucking game birds to go into a roasting pan of vegetables that have been peeled and sliced. The old man licks his lips as you pass thorugh, [COLOR=SandyBrown]"Gamekeep got a brace of partriges this morning. Twill be a fine supper this even'"[/COLOR] He makes his way up a curving ramp that leads to the next floor up. This level, where the main door enters is the 'great' hall, though perhaps modest hall describes it better. A large table and a big soot stained fireplace are the main features of the room. Moving up a stair you come to a door at the landing and the old man taps. Appearantly getting an assent, he opens the door. "Visitor's my lord. This is..." he pauses not having asked your name or business. "Ah...what was that name again he asks those in front of the group." Beyond the door is appearantly the Lord's personal study. A room almost as big as the hall below. The room is filled with books, and oddiments including a stuffed owlbear and several skulls. Paintings and tapestries are hidden behind heaps of books and brick-a-brack. While there are clean rushes on the floor the room could use the services of a maid. There are not enough chairs for you all to be seated. A man of late middle-age behind a big desk announces, [COLOR=Indigo]"Welcome, I am Fredrick Balmal. I have been expecting you."[/COLOR] A pair of continual flame lamps light the area around the desk brightly, but the far reaches of the room are shadowy at best. [COLOR=Indigo]"Lad, fetch these gentlefolk some wine, we'll finish the letter later."[/COLOR] A gangly lad of perhaps 13 rises from beside the desk and puts down a quill and pen. His tonsure haircut and robe with the scroll and candle of the god of knowledge mark him as an acolyte-scribe. At a cask in a stand near a slitted window, he pours wine from the tap into an assortment of mismatched cups ranging from a simple wooden mug to a jeweled golden vessel that could be an alter piece in a fine temple. The boy seems to pay little attention giving his Lord one of the simpler cups and handing Finn massive jeweled one worth thousands. The wine proves to a sour cheap red that has not benefitted from a long stay in the low quality barrel. [COLOR=Indigo]"What can I do for you good folk today? I only know that you are seeking my expertise in a matter of some urgency."[/COLOR] OOC: Roll a spot check if you like... [sblock=0-10]You eyes have trouble adjusting to the dim light and you can see little beyond the well lit desk.[/sblock] [sblock=10+]On a distant side board are a few ornate bottles, unmarked, but likely to contain far more interesting spirits than the foul wine.[/sblock] [/QUOTE]
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