[PbP] WOT: Prophecies of the Dragon

[GruTheWanderer]

Elinas, Sivak, and Jorad close on the sitting Trolloc. With a cry they spring forward. Elinas' blade catches in the monster's mail, doing no damage. Sivak catches it in the leg as it turns in fear (6 damage). But Jorad brings his axe down on the foul one's head, cleaving down into the chest. Pair of 20's! 51 damage.

Dawn is equally successful. Her hardened air catches the two sentries. One is fully ensnared, and begins suffocating. The other manages to get his head clear, but he is held helpless by the One Power.

 

[garyh]

Jorad brings his axe down on the foul one's head, cleaving down into the chest. Pair of 20's! 51 damage.

OOC: I really like this Ogier bit.

Looking at the captured Trollocs, Jorad asked "Shall we attempt to get some information from these beasts, or simply send them back to the darkness that spawned them?"

 

[Darkwolf]

"You might be able to interrogate this one. The other one is going to die a really painful death unless I drop the whole weave, which would free both of them."

 

[Uriel]

'There is a sying in my Home City, "Even though the River is Sluggidh and Foul, still might you ply it's waters...". I say we try to interrogate the Beast, it may know something, though it looks to be a particularly Foul River.'

Elinas Grins, waving his blade about where the Trolloc can see it.

 

[GruTheWanderer]

*clatter of dice* The Trolloc reveals nothing. It is either too stubborn or too stupid to answer your questions. A search of the grove turns up no other clues. Whatever these seven Trollocs were sent to do remains a mystery.

You return to the Golden Stag, and find yourselves in the middle of a celebration. Master Ferrin and his staff thank you deeply, and the other patrons raise toasts to your honor.

While you were gone, a patrol of the Queen's Guard, made up of a Lieutenant Jerman and two Guards, arrived. They questioned Ferrin and many of the witnesses, and examined the Trolloc corpses. A stocky, sandy-haired man of about 25 with a likeable demeanor, Jerman is somewhat overwhelmed by the evening's events, and he appears eager to return to the city, make his report, and dispatch additional men to the encampment you discovered. He questions you quickly but carefully while his men make arrangements for the Trollocs to be hauled away and burned.

 

[GruTheWanderer]

Amid the kudos, congratulations, and questioning, the beggar has been all but forgotten. But he has not disappeared. He steps forward, grasping Elinas by the cloak.

"My reward, sir?" he coughs, carrying the fetid odor of his breath towards the Ebou Dari's face. "Much have I done. But I ask little. Only it is so cold out - give me your cloak, so that I might warm myself. That is all."

Master Ferrin wrinkles his nose at the stooped figure. "Well, I suppose you deserve something," he admits. "But you'll not go troubling my guests. If it's cold you are, I'll give you a blanket. Two, even - you've earned them. And you can sleep in the loft, there, above the stable. Now go on. Call for a bath if you want one, but don't come back into the Stag without."

The beggar raises his cowled head, and you can see his eyes studying the four of you from within. After a moment, he reluctantly releases Elinas' cloak, takes the blankets that a servant offers, and turns to shuffle from the room.

 

[Uriel]

Elinas smiles at thre Beggar,he had spent a good amount of time living as such himself, though by his own choice and not the whims of Fate.
'I say,Lord of the Streets, my Cloak serves me as other than a buffer 'gainst the Cold, yet help you I can...' Elinas retrieves his pack and takes a spare shirt from it.'Take this, it should help against the cold, friend.'.

 

[GruTheWanderer]

The beggar takes the shirt and disappears into the night, apparently uninterested in Ferrin's offer of the loft.

The next morning, you awaken to considerably more comfort than you experienced in the tiny, crowded rooms you were forced to accept previously. A hot breakfast awaits you, and another round of friendly greetings marks your arrival in the common room.

This is the day that some of you, if not all, have been awaiting: the day that Logain, the False Dragon, is paraded through Caemlyn. You will have to set off early to find a good spot from which to view the parade as it makes its way through the city.

 

[GruTheWanderer]

The route that will bring the false Dragon through the city has been public knowledge, oft-discussed, for days, and there's a small square just inside the new city where you should enjoy a fine view. As you approach the square, you can see the dense crowd already pressing against the line of red-cloaked pikemen who keep the street itself clear. Although you have arrived in plenty of time, the scene is dense with onlookers. Some sit in windows or crowd balconies, but most swirl around you in the street, chattering in speculation as they jockey for the best positions along the parade route.

A disturbance in the turbulent throng catches your attention, and you turn to see a gap appearing in the crowd. Four men emerge, glaring at the onlookers who part before them. They are heavily armed, armored in gleaming mail, and wear cloaks of pure white with a golden sunburst pattern, the leader's augmented with a silver lightning-flash emblem.

"You there," the leader calls out, pointing toward your group as they approach.

 

[Darkwolf]

"What can I do for you, whitecloak?"