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Soanso's Fireside Chat: Rise of the Runelords (AE)
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<blockquote data-quote="soanso" data-source="post: 6180339" data-attributes="member: 6684655"><p><strong>A New Blade</strong></p><p></p><p>My thoughts traveled to Aldern, wondering where he might be; alas, he had left the previous morning, presumably to his family holdings near Magnimar. I must make a point to call upon him there; such a tree might bear fruit should our travels take us west. After a breakfast of boiled bread, soft-cooked eggs, rashers and cantaloupe, we headed to meet Father Zantus for Desna’s blessing before we once again took to Thistletop. </p><p> </p><p>Zantus met us in the apse, excited to see us. “Friends,” he said, exuberance spiking his tone, “I’ve great news. Two itinerants sheltered here last night, thank Desna- an elf and a dwarf- I made mention of your trial, and both were eager to lend their service.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did ya broker their wage, too?” Mundin said as he spat to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Easy, he’s here to help,” Shaiira said. “We need what we can get.”</p><p> </p><p>“Rest yourselves, both tarry less than a fortnight in Sandpoint. I can tell you the elf is quickly gone. Likely a stock-and-supply visit; he is an outrider for a group I do not know fully, but know they battle goblins and strive to keep the northern woods friendly for the farmers and merchants living and traveling through the region. He carries a token from Shalelu, and bears no malice in his tone. The dwarf…” Zantus paused, his loss of words not lost to us.</p><p> </p><p>“Go on,” Mundin said.</p><p> </p><p>“She does not speak. At least, not to me. Her weapons and armor have seen little battle, but are not new. She bears the crest of Sarenrae on her armor and on a chain about her neck. I’d wager she is a holy warrior of the goddess, but if she speaks the trade tongue- she hides it. She has respected the cathedral itself, and prayed to each of the gods housed here. Ah, here is the woodsman,” Zantus raised the greeting of Erastil to a tall elf exiting the shrine of Old Deadeye.</p><p> </p><p>I felt Desna smile upon our band. We Farateldis never turn away a hand; the road is too long for disdain. One day at the markets in Riddleport, we were having incredible unluck. The supply wagon’s axle had split, and our guide, a Kellid sellsword, sprang from the lead wagon and disappeared into the crowd when a gang of three Izaraldo thugs sauntered up. Of course, PopPop put them in line and they went on their way; he was never afraid of the Sczarni. But we were without a wagon and a guide. “The Abyss can take cowards, give me a dwarf any day,” Grandy Vin said, spitting into the dusty road. “Jaff, you’ve the hand at cards and ale, rustle the leaves and find us a craftsman.” Sure enough, Shadow Jaffy found a dwarf cartwright at a taphouse around the corner sober enough to mend the axle. Krodar traveled with us for a few weeks, leaving us at Janderhoff.</p><p> </p><p>To add an elf to our family history is a grand thing; the elves are not the kind to meddle in our petty affairs. C was first to engage him, greeting him with an antiquated but respectful flourish. </p><p> </p><p>The elf was at least amused, if not impressed by the gesture, as archaic as it was. “Those who know me call me Jae,” he said plainly. “I am only passing through Sandpoint, but the good Father said you might need an experienced guide.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye,” Caramour said, “We could use one familiar with the area. Though we dodged goblins yesterday, today leaves no promise.”</p><p> “Eyes and ears are yours, then,” Jae said. “I frequent the wilderness north and east of Sandpoint, and am familiar with the cruel habits of the Thistletop tribe.”</p><p> “We face grave danger, your presence is timely,” Vohoi said.</p><p> “Jae, welcome. We will be fighting goblins, and who knows what else. Your guidance is Desna’s grace,” I said.</p><p> “Aye,” Shaiira said. “But you have no bow, elf.”</p><p> “She was sundered a few nights back fighting a werewolf,” Jae said. “I have commissioned another here in town, till then I’m yours.” </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, a low conversation crept to me in a dialect I barely knew. The two dwarves had found an alcove just outside Sarenrae’s chapel. Mundin took it upon himself to meet the holy warrior; I watched quietly as the dwarves parlayed and exchanged the formal greetings of traditional dwarven society. I then realized there was much about Mundin I did not know. We had traded stories of our travels throughout Varisia over several brandies, but I knew next to nothing about him. After they had finished their ritual, they strode towards the rest of us, milling about.</p><p> </p><p>“I would like to introduce Noria Rockbottom, paladin of Sarenrae,” Mundin said. Noria bowed low. Her armor showed some signs of battle, and her blade was well-made; she is a dwarven warrior. “Her family traces a holy lineage back to the days of Taargick, the revered king who led the dwarven nation out of darkness and into Golarion.” Knowing some of the dwarves’ predilection for pomp, I bowed low to Noria, a sign of both respect and fealty to her lineage. </p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to us, friends,” I said. “Today we distill hindsight for our journey. We face a tremendous challenge- an unknown evil called Nualia rises somewhere in the Thistlewood. She is at least aligned with demons, and might be one herself. The goblins are her distraction, but also a real blight for the people living here.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve already explored part of the Thistletop warren, and were routed by a goblin caster, likely a druid. Its <em>entangle</em> proved deadly, and its firecat accomplice is a fierce combatant. We can expect the same from the druid- a cramped space further complicated by grasping nettles. Our best tactic is to try and break free of the spell and meet master and cat evenly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye,” Mundin said, spitting. “We laid low many gobby fighters despite our struggles, but the druid and a few gobby dogs remain.”</p><p> </p><p>We set off for Thistletop once more. Jae scouted ahead, but found no other entrance save the one we knew. We entered and were beset by a lone goblin dog; Jae quickly put it down. We heard the far-off sound of a horn, and were quickly met by a small pack of goblin dogs, the druid and its cat. Though we managed to spread out, the <em>entangle</em> spell still wreaked havoc on the group. We circled around or battled through it as best we could.</p><p> </p><p>Shaiira, Mundin, and I skirted the area of the spell to reach the cat and druid; meanwhile the elf had burst through the spell to land a solid blow on a goblin dog, but was swiped hard by the druid’s pet. The cat then moved to my sister and swiped at her; I saw the blood and gripped my rapier. I wasn’t singing as much as I was shouting verses of The Old Black Rose at this point. </p><p> </p><p>I’ve seen this before, and it won’t happen again.</p><p> </p><p>C appeared out of the briar, a welcome sight. How he moves so quickly is a testament to faith. He healed Shaiira and then made his way to the elf, still standing but the cat was on the prowl. Shaiira dropped to a defensive crouch- she is learning.</p><p> </p><p>Vohoi lobbed <em>magic missile</em> at several goblin dogs, and the druid, helping to weaken the enemy. The cat swiped the elf again, and our guide fell to the ground. Mundin then raised his axes and split the cat twain, finally killing it.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Rockbottom?” Mundin yelled over the battlefield as the druid scampered away.</p><p> </p><p>“More like Leadbottom,” Shaiira said to me, a laugh in her eyes. I laughed, too. Where was our new blade? Likely as frustrated by the druid’s sorcery as Mundin was last time we encountered it. “Noria, follow my voice!” I shouted, as I doubled around the spell to where the goblin had scampered. I was met by Jae as the paladin of Sarenrae burst out of the entanglement.</p><p> </p><p>“You call this a challenge?” she growled. “Let’s end this right now,” she lowered her blade, pointing it at the druid. </p><p></p><p>We had it cornered; I struck first and quickly dealt it a deadly thrust from my rapier. Noria then struck true with her greatsword; I could not help to notice the wave of satisfaction that was Jae’s face as he ran the goblin through with his longsword. He had clearly won a personal battle with the druid’s demise.</p><p> </p><p>We then moved through the compound to the open air; freedom never felt so good. We stood on a precipice about 60 feet above the crashing waves; a precarious rope bridge connected the warren to another island, upon which sat a squat citadel, its guard towers looming. Mundin was the first to cross.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="soanso, post: 6180339, member: 6684655"] [b]A New Blade[/b] My thoughts traveled to Aldern, wondering where he might be; alas, he had left the previous morning, presumably to his family holdings near Magnimar. I must make a point to call upon him there; such a tree might bear fruit should our travels take us west. After a breakfast of boiled bread, soft-cooked eggs, rashers and cantaloupe, we headed to meet Father Zantus for Desna’s blessing before we once again took to Thistletop. Zantus met us in the apse, excited to see us. “Friends,” he said, exuberance spiking his tone, “I’ve great news. Two itinerants sheltered here last night, thank Desna- an elf and a dwarf- I made mention of your trial, and both were eager to lend their service.” “Did ya broker their wage, too?” Mundin said as he spat to the ground. “Easy, he’s here to help,” Shaiira said. “We need what we can get.” “Rest yourselves, both tarry less than a fortnight in Sandpoint. I can tell you the elf is quickly gone. Likely a stock-and-supply visit; he is an outrider for a group I do not know fully, but know they battle goblins and strive to keep the northern woods friendly for the farmers and merchants living and traveling through the region. He carries a token from Shalelu, and bears no malice in his tone. The dwarf…” Zantus paused, his loss of words not lost to us. “Go on,” Mundin said. “She does not speak. At least, not to me. Her weapons and armor have seen little battle, but are not new. She bears the crest of Sarenrae on her armor and on a chain about her neck. I’d wager she is a holy warrior of the goddess, but if she speaks the trade tongue- she hides it. She has respected the cathedral itself, and prayed to each of the gods housed here. Ah, here is the woodsman,” Zantus raised the greeting of Erastil to a tall elf exiting the shrine of Old Deadeye. I felt Desna smile upon our band. We Farateldis never turn away a hand; the road is too long for disdain. One day at the markets in Riddleport, we were having incredible unluck. The supply wagon’s axle had split, and our guide, a Kellid sellsword, sprang from the lead wagon and disappeared into the crowd when a gang of three Izaraldo thugs sauntered up. Of course, PopPop put them in line and they went on their way; he was never afraid of the Sczarni. But we were without a wagon and a guide. “The Abyss can take cowards, give me a dwarf any day,” Grandy Vin said, spitting into the dusty road. “Jaff, you’ve the hand at cards and ale, rustle the leaves and find us a craftsman.” Sure enough, Shadow Jaffy found a dwarf cartwright at a taphouse around the corner sober enough to mend the axle. Krodar traveled with us for a few weeks, leaving us at Janderhoff. To add an elf to our family history is a grand thing; the elves are not the kind to meddle in our petty affairs. C was first to engage him, greeting him with an antiquated but respectful flourish. The elf was at least amused, if not impressed by the gesture, as archaic as it was. “Those who know me call me Jae,” he said plainly. “I am only passing through Sandpoint, but the good Father said you might need an experienced guide.” “Aye,” Caramour said, “We could use one familiar with the area. Though we dodged goblins yesterday, today leaves no promise.” “Eyes and ears are yours, then,” Jae said. “I frequent the wilderness north and east of Sandpoint, and am familiar with the cruel habits of the Thistletop tribe.” “We face grave danger, your presence is timely,” Vohoi said. “Jae, welcome. We will be fighting goblins, and who knows what else. Your guidance is Desna’s grace,” I said. “Aye,” Shaiira said. “But you have no bow, elf.” “She was sundered a few nights back fighting a werewolf,” Jae said. “I have commissioned another here in town, till then I’m yours.” Meanwhile, a low conversation crept to me in a dialect I barely knew. The two dwarves had found an alcove just outside Sarenrae’s chapel. Mundin took it upon himself to meet the holy warrior; I watched quietly as the dwarves parlayed and exchanged the formal greetings of traditional dwarven society. I then realized there was much about Mundin I did not know. We had traded stories of our travels throughout Varisia over several brandies, but I knew next to nothing about him. After they had finished their ritual, they strode towards the rest of us, milling about. “I would like to introduce Noria Rockbottom, paladin of Sarenrae,” Mundin said. Noria bowed low. Her armor showed some signs of battle, and her blade was well-made; she is a dwarven warrior. “Her family traces a holy lineage back to the days of Taargick, the revered king who led the dwarven nation out of darkness and into Golarion.” Knowing some of the dwarves’ predilection for pomp, I bowed low to Noria, a sign of both respect and fealty to her lineage. “Welcome to us, friends,” I said. “Today we distill hindsight for our journey. We face a tremendous challenge- an unknown evil called Nualia rises somewhere in the Thistlewood. She is at least aligned with demons, and might be one herself. The goblins are her distraction, but also a real blight for the people living here.” “We’ve already explored part of the Thistletop warren, and were routed by a goblin caster, likely a druid. Its [I]entangle[/I] proved deadly, and its firecat accomplice is a fierce combatant. We can expect the same from the druid- a cramped space further complicated by grasping nettles. Our best tactic is to try and break free of the spell and meet master and cat evenly.” “Aye,” Mundin said, spitting. “We laid low many gobby fighters despite our struggles, but the druid and a few gobby dogs remain.” We set off for Thistletop once more. Jae scouted ahead, but found no other entrance save the one we knew. We entered and were beset by a lone goblin dog; Jae quickly put it down. We heard the far-off sound of a horn, and were quickly met by a small pack of goblin dogs, the druid and its cat. Though we managed to spread out, the [I]entangle[/I] spell still wreaked havoc on the group. We circled around or battled through it as best we could. Shaiira, Mundin, and I skirted the area of the spell to reach the cat and druid; meanwhile the elf had burst through the spell to land a solid blow on a goblin dog, but was swiped hard by the druid’s pet. The cat then moved to my sister and swiped at her; I saw the blood and gripped my rapier. I wasn’t singing as much as I was shouting verses of The Old Black Rose at this point. I’ve seen this before, and it won’t happen again. C appeared out of the briar, a welcome sight. How he moves so quickly is a testament to faith. He healed Shaiira and then made his way to the elf, still standing but the cat was on the prowl. Shaiira dropped to a defensive crouch- she is learning. Vohoi lobbed [I]magic missile[/I] at several goblin dogs, and the druid, helping to weaken the enemy. The cat swiped the elf again, and our guide fell to the ground. Mundin then raised his axes and split the cat twain, finally killing it. “Where’s Rockbottom?” Mundin yelled over the battlefield as the druid scampered away. “More like Leadbottom,” Shaiira said to me, a laugh in her eyes. I laughed, too. Where was our new blade? Likely as frustrated by the druid’s sorcery as Mundin was last time we encountered it. “Noria, follow my voice!” I shouted, as I doubled around the spell to where the goblin had scampered. I was met by Jae as the paladin of Sarenrae burst out of the entanglement. “You call this a challenge?” she growled. “Let’s end this right now,” she lowered her blade, pointing it at the druid. We had it cornered; I struck first and quickly dealt it a deadly thrust from my rapier. Noria then struck true with her greatsword; I could not help to notice the wave of satisfaction that was Jae’s face as he ran the goblin through with his longsword. He had clearly won a personal battle with the druid’s demise. We then moved through the compound to the open air; freedom never felt so good. We stood on a precipice about 60 feet above the crashing waves; a precarious rope bridge connected the warren to another island, upon which sat a squat citadel, its guard towers looming. Mundin was the first to cross. [/QUOTE]
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