Rhun's Greyhawk OMEGA Campaign (ToEE) - Continued

[Mark Chance]

Aeron frowns as a fresh niggling worry sets itself in his mind. "Who's your friend? Perhaps we've seen him."

"Half-elf kid. Kind of scrawny with dishwater colored hair." Bellus traces a thumb from earlobe to the corner of his mouth. "Has a pink birthmark here. Sort of shaped like a squashed snake. Kid's name is Mick Silverblade. Thinks he's a sellsword. His mother said he came this way thinking he could find work."

 

[Rhun]

Alice brings another round of the thick, dark, foamy local ale. She also brings dinner for the tired dwarf. It is the same fare the rest of the group recently finished: salad of bitter greens tossed with pinenuts and a cream dressing, hot oat-bread baked with bits of apple and nuts, buttery garlic potatoes, and honey-baked pheasant. "Just let me know if you need anything else," she says, before going back to her tasks.

 

[Mark Chance]

"Just let me know if you need anything else," she says, before going back to her tasks.

"Thanks, princess," Bellus says with a crooked grin.

 

[CanadienneBacon]

"Michael Silverblade. No, can't say what as that sounds familiar, nor does your description of the boy. Ciaran?" Aeron raises an eyebrow and looks at Ciaran to see if he might know.

 

[InVinoVeritas]

Ciaran looks up, and closes his book. As he places it into his satchel, he replies, "No, can't say as I've seen anyone with that description, either. We could ask Lord Burne, he might have had use for a sellsword. Otherwise... there would be the Temple."

 

[Mark Chance]

"Temple, huh?" Bellus says around a mouthful of food. "That could be the place. Mick's mother mentioned something about a 'cult' of some sort. She didn't know much. Just what she'd heard. Rumors and what not."

 

[InVinoVeritas]

Ciaran lets out an odd sort of gurgle, deep and rolling, like a distant storm. "The Temple would be the place, then. They are the largest employers of sellswords in the area. Along with bandits, ruffians, ogres, trolls... This half-elf, was he... less than wise?"

Ciaran clicks his tongue, and a small spark appears to bridge across his teeth.

 

[Mark Chance]

Ciaran lets out an odd sort of gurgle, deep and rolling, like a distant storm. "The Temple would be the place, then. They are the largest employers of sellswords in the area. Along with bandits, ruffians, ogres, trolls... This half-elf, was he... less than wise?"

Bellus snorts. "'Less than wise'? Nah, more like as dumb as a sack of horseshoes. You ever seen a hungry tyke really tuck into a dessert? Gets too much of it his mouth so that he can hardly chew and swallow at all. Mick's like that, but he bites into situations he can't handle. If his mother was rich, I could've made a living just keeping Mick out of trouble."

 

[Strahd_Von_Zarovich]

Hommlet is a decent place so if your kid was looking for some dirty works and easy money, my guess is that he marched to Nulb.
Zirat reply to the dwarf
We are heading ... again ... to this filthy hamlet ... but tell me master dwarf.
What is your profession besides getting punks back to their mothers?

 

[Mark Chance]

We are heading ... again ... to this filthy hamlet ... but tell me master dwarf. What is your profession besides getting punks back to their mothers?

Bellus chugs his ale. "Profession, huh? Well, I do this and that. Someone needs something found, I find it. Need some information? I learn it. Some busybody walking around where he doesn't belong, and I encourage him to be more mindful of boundaries."