Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Cyronax" data-source="post: 116715" data-attributes="member: 822">Session I (Part I)Session I (Part I) Cherry Knoll had a shabby look to it in the light of the setting sun. It was the last gasp of summer, and today was even more unbearable and humid than normal. The rutted Copper Way, still muddy from last week’s rains, widened and bulged for a mere sixty feet before being tightened back to its normal size on the other side of the village. Several buildings lined either side of the bulge, with only one building having more than one story. The only remarkable building in Cherry Knoll was a small, one-story fort on the small hill, rising just north of the village proper. It was surrounded by a wooden palisade. All in all, the fort looked barely strong enough to withstand a strong breeze, much less an opposing army. Gorbag took in little of this in as he came to the western outskirts of the village. He passed several huts. Some had chickens meandering around out front. One had a pair of dirty peasant children that immediately froze at the sight of the newcomer. They just stared at the tired orc. He was probably the biggest man they’d ever seen. Standing at nearly six and a half feet, with wide shoulders and a lean body rippling with muscle, the orc was the size of three men. His tangled mass of long, sweaty black hair, gray skin, and the dull, bestial yellow eyes shadowed by thick eyebrows and a prominent brow ridge made him fearsome to behold. Even more unnerving was the fact that the orc’s massive bastard sword was unsheathed and held lazily held in his meaty left hand. The orc also had several bloody bruises on various parts of his body, with the oozing cut on his right temple being most prominent. As the orc passed the two small children, their mother appeared in the doorway behind them, and pulled both children back into the house. Gorbag paid little attention to any this. He was focused on something much more important: his stomach. As he came through the eastern outskirts of the village, his nose picked up the scent of cooking meat coming from the two story stone building in the village square. It was “L” shaped, and even the orc could tell it was an inn. A wooden sign with faded red letters proclaimed this backwoods oasis to be “Cutter’s Inn and Tavern,” and below it scrawled with little proficiency, was the Halthyte character for "Inn." The door to Cutter’s was pushed open, and stooping, the big man entered, bumping his greatsword and his right shoulder loudly against the door frame. This sound caused the girl behind the bar to issue a small cry of surprise. The rest of the common room held little interest for the orc. The only other people in the room were four bleary-eyed men dressed as woodsmen hunched, over a round table with a half empty bottle of some dark liquor and several upturned shot glasses scattered about their table. The men glanced up at Gorbag and sheepishly went back to their booze. If they had been doing any talking before he had come in, they weren’t doing any now. “Uh….hello….si..sir, welcome to Cutter’s.” she said. Gorbag, head nearly hitting the ceiling, lumbered over to the bar. “My stomach hungry………” The girl braced herself against the cloud of bad breath and body odor that surrounded the orc, and said, “What would you like?” Gorbag dropped his sword against the side of the bar, and it fell to the floor with a loud crash. The drunken men across the room jumped up in surprise, looking at the orc even more fearfully than before. The girl backed away from the counter. The orc barely noticed. “Uh…food. I wans meats and beer.” The girl just nodded and told the orc to make himself comfortable at which point she hurried through the curtained door that was directly behind her. She reemerged barely a minute later, followed by a middle-aged man with graying red hair. The pair found their new customer sitting at a table right next to the bar. The orc’s greatsword was where it had fallen earlier. A squat stool next to the table barely supported the orc’s monstrous weight. “Welcome to my inn sir. I’m Cutter; uh…I brought you some brew.” The Mytherian offered Gorbag a large tankard of beer, which Gorbag quickly took. The orc chugged it quickly, and slammed the empty crock on the table. He looked up at the barkeep expectantly, and the entire bar could hear him emit a long, rumbling belch. Cutter took a step back. “It good! More!” “Yes well, I’d be happy to uh…..sell you some more beer sir, but first sir, might I ask what part of the frontier are you from?” “Uh…I from the hills.” “Oh you mean from west of here,” Cutter’s face grew even more worried, and he continued, “that’s wonderful sir. Might I ask what business brings you east?” Gorbag looked a little perplexed, shrugged, and just said in slow and fumbling words,”Yaw………O K. I wan beer and food. My stomach hungry.” “Very good sir, I was just now cooking some chicken in the back. It’ll be out soon.” “Good.” “I’m sorry, but might I ask if you have any other, uh, companions who will be joining you tonight?” “No.” “So you just want something to eat and drink tonight. Will that be all sir? “Yes.” Cutter just nodded, and as he was going into the kitchen, he wisely advised his daughter to heavily water down any more beer she served their new customer. After a little more than an hour, night had finally fallen, and crickets and swamp bugs could be heard chirping outside. It was still humid, but the heat was dissipating. The main door and the windows were wide open to let in the night air. The common room at Cutter’s was still fairly empty. A handful of farmers had trickled in, but most of the seats remained empty. The woodsmen had all already retired to their rooms upstairs for the evening. The atmosphere at Cutter’s could only be described as awkward. Gorbag was well into his fifth helping of dinner and his third flagon of brew, when the sounds of wagons and horses could be rattling in from the east. ---------- Li Hai was restlessly gathering his things as the caravan came within sight of town. It had been a long three day journey from West Point, and a little over a week since he’d joined the caravan in Archaven. He was glad that he'd be away from these men soon. As the six wagons started to roll themselves into the village, Hollum shouted, “Alright men don’t be getting too drunk tonight! We’ve got a schedule to keep!” “Don’t worry Master Hollum,” Gareth began,”I don’t think there’s too much fun to be had in a place like this.” He surveyed the hovels that the villagers called houses, and noted the glaring differences between Cherry Knoll and even a backwater like his home Westpoint. “I didn’t expect the frontier to start to be this ....uh primitive...so soon.” “Well Lord Steele, I’m surprised you actually wanted to come west. You were becoming quite the ah……”man about town,” as they say, back in Archaven. You'll be very bored out in Copper Country. It’s worse than this in some ways.” And with that the Hollum stopped his wagon in front of Cutter's, and began to gather his things from beside him. Gareth dismounted as well, and led his gray horse closer to inn. Over the course of the next few minutes, Gareth and Hollum met with Cutter, who had come outside when he had heard the caravan’s approach, and made preparations to stay at the inn for the night. Gareth suggested as much, already confused as to the run down fort on the hill, which Cutter identified as the Abbey. He had thought that Cherry Knoll’s Abbot Rethra would live in something a bit more “abbey”-like. He said as much to Cutter, but the ostler just shrugged his shoulders and helped Gareth and the other caravan guards attend to the caravan. ---------- The second that his wagon had stopped, all the while ignoring his driver’s request for help, Li Hai shouldered his light crossbow, and made his way into Cutter’s. Li Hai’s gaze fell about the room. He saw only a few peasants, most Mytherians. He also saw a solitary orc reeking of the frontier surrounded by dirty dishes and piles of chicken bones. He gave everyone, especially the orc, a wide berth, and he ended up sitting on the farthest stool from the door. He made the conscious effort to position it so that he could see all the doors in the bar from his seat. His stool was at the end of a row, so to his left there was merely a wall. He placed his crossbow on the stool to his right, leaving a subtle zone of personal space. Cutter’s daughter soon approached him with a welcoming smile on her face. “Good evening sir, where are you all coming from?” Li Hai quickly sized her up, and he replied in a dismissive tone, “Archaven.” “Well I’m Merin, and is there anything I can get you tonight.” She obviously thought the young Halthyte attractive, and indeed she wouldn’t have been the first. Li Hai, despite the sullen frown always he wore, was a handsome man. He looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. He had fine features, piercing almond shaped, gray eyes, and flawless ivory skin. His shoulder-length hair was black, as it was for all Halthytes. Though he was of slight build, it was easy to tell that he had a well-formed physique, even from beneath his dark blue cloak. He was a definitely man who could get by on his looks. The Halthyte ordered some dinner and glass of water. After Merin had delivered his dinner, Li Hai resisted further attempts at conversation. He ate quietly, with a look of introspection on his face. About the time Li Hai’s food arrived, Gareth, Hollum and the other members of the caravan started trickling in, having stowed all their cargo and stabled their animals. Once they all had been seated, the small common room felt very crowded. All the seats were filled except for those around Gorbag’s table and the stool with Li Hai’s crossbow on it. As their food was delivered and the haze of alcohol came about them, Cutter's Inn became a merry place. One of the few such places this deep into the Tsai-Nau frontier.</blockquote>

Verification