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The Waterdeep Adventures or Kobold Soup is good eatin!
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<blockquote data-quote="spacehulkster" data-source="post: 2035696" data-attributes="member: 13070"><p>Thanks to Felix the Pixie for volunteering to proof read and correct my grammar, as i have none... <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite6" alt=":cool:" title="Cool :cool:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":cool:" /> </p><p></p><p>The Hook… </p><p></p><p> A group of folk in upper class garb makes their way through the open tavern, back to one of the private rooms. Shortly thereafter, a coach master and runner guards come in and order ale and bread. Following an initial lull as the men eat and drink, the coach master rises in front of his chair and makes the following loud announcement:</p><p> </p><p> “Fellow travelers. I am Coach master Barger. My coach ran into a bit of trouble up the way. As is standard White Stallion policy I will discuss a reward for those willing to help me deal with this problem. Those interested in this work should meet with me here at dawn tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p> After his speech, the coach master gathers together the rest of his party and they march off to bed.</p><p> </p><p> The group eyes each other. Pudge finally breaks the ice “Yea sure, we make a few gold, take a few heads, but how long will it take?” (It was obvious that he was anxious to get to Waterdeep to see his friend, Basti.) </p><p> </p><p> “Well,” piped the pixie, “how much shiny do we got in the community funds?”</p><p> </p><p> “A few silver”, said Pudge, as he empties out the community pouch that he always carries.</p><p>“Sounds like we need more to cover expenses once we get to Waterdeep.” The pixie, always practical, </p><p>always stated the obvious.</p><p> </p><p> The next morning the group crowded into the private room reserved for the coach master’s morning business. The group eyed the table full of food as they began to sit. Pudge and Dank once again began their little game on the few other would be bounty hunters already at the table. It was enough to get rid of some of their competition.</p><p> </p><p> After waiting a few minutes, the Coaching company representative began to speak. “I am thankful there a few of you showed up, as this is NOT a one person job. You see, a dozen miles up the road we had a bit of trouble. Our coach was ambushed by a bunch of brigands. Barbarians, I believe. Fortunately, our runner guards were able to fend them off.”</p><p> </p><p> The Coach master pauses as he takes a sip of tea. “I would like for all of you to travel up the road and punish these barbarians. There looked to be a dozen of them, mostly young humans. They are probably tribesmen on raids from the north. Nonetheless, they must be punished. I am authorized to offer you ten gold per head. Do you accept this contract?”</p><p> </p><p> Vern steps up to examine the fine print of the written document. His gaze stops at a certain part of the contract, and his eyes light up. “Ten Gold per live Brigand or Brigand’s head presented at this Inn within a fortnight.” Sounds good to me, he accepts with a nod.</p><p> </p><p> After buying rations and estimating distance and travel time, the group heads out. Vern began to sort out tactics. “Let’s see now. I estimate that it will take us roughly six hours to get to the area where Mr. Barger said they were ambushed. By then it will be getting around sup-time and I don’t want to take on a group of barbarians in the dark. Do you?” Vern casts a concerned look at his compatriots.</p><p>Dank and Pudge give a disgusting shake of their heads while the elves, Felix, and Milo agreed heartedly. As the gnome continues to rant on, Dank could only wonder what had possessed him to rescue Vern from the Drow a year ago. </p><p> </p><p> Three Drow had the gnome cornered in a cavern, when Dank passed by and heard Vern lashing out with threats to them. “N-now stand back, or I’ll blast ya with a fireball, I will. You just let me pass. I’mmm ahh w-wizard!” Dank couldn’t possibly pass up a fight with some drow, even if it did concern a gnome. </p><p> </p><p>Since then, Dank has developed a fondness for Vern and his way of calming a crowd. Surface dwellers don’t react to well to an Orog, and Dank appreciates Vern’s attempts to avert hostility.</p><p> </p><p> Danks daydreaming was interrupted when the Party comes across a dwarf stumbling towards them, dragging an axe along the ground with one arm. “Ho thar. Another batch o’ rogues come to jump ‘ole Tarin, eh? Well, ye be a few hours late. All I have is this axe, but I’m willing to give it to ye, right between yer eyes!” After spitting, the struggling dwarf slowly takes up a fighting stance. </p><p> </p><p> Un-impressed, Dank says what the whole party was thinking, “What makes ya think the likes of you can take on all eight of us?” </p><p> </p><p> “I may go down, but I’ll wound a few o’ ye! My yer an odd bunch of thieves!”</p><p> </p><p> “We’re NOT thieves” protested Elric. (To Elric, being a Rogue was an art. An art most Wood Elves disdained, but one he embraced with a passion.)</p><p> </p><p> “We be bounty hunters” Vern piped in, “I’m Vern Turan, a wizard.”</p><p> </p><p> Milo stepped forward, hoping to stop Vern before he bored the dwarf to death. “Can I be of service to you master dwarf? I am a priest.” </p><p> </p><p> “Do ye serve Moradin?” </p><p> </p><p> “I am afraid not, master dwarf,” answered Milo, I serve Pelor.”</p><p> </p><p> “Well,” the dwarf turned and spit blood from his mouth, “I guess she’ll do.” With that, the dwarf slumped to the ground, Milo barely catching his head before it hits the road.</p><p> </p><p> As the dwarf came to, he was bombarded by questions from Vern. “Ho thar, gnome” the dwarf exclaimed, “I be Tarin Alemaker, brewer of some of the best ale around these parts. My fellow worker, Cantor, and me, were taking a cartload of ale to Yartar when we were accosted by at least 10 brigands. A felled a tree blocked our path. The scum hacked poor Cantor mercilessly and felled me after a few seconds. The last thing I remember was falling to the ground as a few of them warriors laughed. When I awoke, me mule was dead, the cart was missing, and poor Cantor lay in a pool of his own blood.” </p><p> </p><p> “There, there Tarin” consoled Milo. “We’ll take care of those ruffians.” </p><p> </p><p> “How far up the road did this happen?” questioned Pudge. </p><p> </p><p> “A few miles. If’n ye do catch up with those human vermin” Tarin turned and spat, “I’ll reward ye. And thanks fer the healing priest.” “How far to the Inn?” </p><p> </p><p> “About 7 miles” replied Valen.</p><p> </p><p> “Well, I’ll be there fer two nights of rest’n up. If ye find me belongings I’ll pay ye.” With that, Tarin started south towards the inn, thinking to himself “what an odd bunch o bounty hunters.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="spacehulkster, post: 2035696, member: 13070"] Thanks to Felix the Pixie for volunteering to proof read and correct my grammar, as i have none... :cool: The Hook… A group of folk in upper class garb makes their way through the open tavern, back to one of the private rooms. Shortly thereafter, a coach master and runner guards come in and order ale and bread. Following an initial lull as the men eat and drink, the coach master rises in front of his chair and makes the following loud announcement: “Fellow travelers. I am Coach master Barger. My coach ran into a bit of trouble up the way. As is standard White Stallion policy I will discuss a reward for those willing to help me deal with this problem. Those interested in this work should meet with me here at dawn tomorrow.” After his speech, the coach master gathers together the rest of his party and they march off to bed. The group eyes each other. Pudge finally breaks the ice “Yea sure, we make a few gold, take a few heads, but how long will it take?” (It was obvious that he was anxious to get to Waterdeep to see his friend, Basti.) “Well,” piped the pixie, “how much shiny do we got in the community funds?” “A few silver”, said Pudge, as he empties out the community pouch that he always carries. “Sounds like we need more to cover expenses once we get to Waterdeep.” The pixie, always practical, always stated the obvious. The next morning the group crowded into the private room reserved for the coach master’s morning business. The group eyed the table full of food as they began to sit. Pudge and Dank once again began their little game on the few other would be bounty hunters already at the table. It was enough to get rid of some of their competition. After waiting a few minutes, the Coaching company representative began to speak. “I am thankful there a few of you showed up, as this is NOT a one person job. You see, a dozen miles up the road we had a bit of trouble. Our coach was ambushed by a bunch of brigands. Barbarians, I believe. Fortunately, our runner guards were able to fend them off.” The Coach master pauses as he takes a sip of tea. “I would like for all of you to travel up the road and punish these barbarians. There looked to be a dozen of them, mostly young humans. They are probably tribesmen on raids from the north. Nonetheless, they must be punished. I am authorized to offer you ten gold per head. Do you accept this contract?” Vern steps up to examine the fine print of the written document. His gaze stops at a certain part of the contract, and his eyes light up. “Ten Gold per live Brigand or Brigand’s head presented at this Inn within a fortnight.” Sounds good to me, he accepts with a nod. After buying rations and estimating distance and travel time, the group heads out. Vern began to sort out tactics. “Let’s see now. I estimate that it will take us roughly six hours to get to the area where Mr. Barger said they were ambushed. By then it will be getting around sup-time and I don’t want to take on a group of barbarians in the dark. Do you?” Vern casts a concerned look at his compatriots. Dank and Pudge give a disgusting shake of their heads while the elves, Felix, and Milo agreed heartedly. As the gnome continues to rant on, Dank could only wonder what had possessed him to rescue Vern from the Drow a year ago. Three Drow had the gnome cornered in a cavern, when Dank passed by and heard Vern lashing out with threats to them. “N-now stand back, or I’ll blast ya with a fireball, I will. You just let me pass. I’mmm ahh w-wizard!” Dank couldn’t possibly pass up a fight with some drow, even if it did concern a gnome. Since then, Dank has developed a fondness for Vern and his way of calming a crowd. Surface dwellers don’t react to well to an Orog, and Dank appreciates Vern’s attempts to avert hostility. Danks daydreaming was interrupted when the Party comes across a dwarf stumbling towards them, dragging an axe along the ground with one arm. “Ho thar. Another batch o’ rogues come to jump ‘ole Tarin, eh? Well, ye be a few hours late. All I have is this axe, but I’m willing to give it to ye, right between yer eyes!” After spitting, the struggling dwarf slowly takes up a fighting stance. Un-impressed, Dank says what the whole party was thinking, “What makes ya think the likes of you can take on all eight of us?” “I may go down, but I’ll wound a few o’ ye! My yer an odd bunch of thieves!” “We’re NOT thieves” protested Elric. (To Elric, being a Rogue was an art. An art most Wood Elves disdained, but one he embraced with a passion.) “We be bounty hunters” Vern piped in, “I’m Vern Turan, a wizard.” Milo stepped forward, hoping to stop Vern before he bored the dwarf to death. “Can I be of service to you master dwarf? I am a priest.” “Do ye serve Moradin?” “I am afraid not, master dwarf,” answered Milo, I serve Pelor.” “Well,” the dwarf turned and spit blood from his mouth, “I guess she’ll do.” With that, the dwarf slumped to the ground, Milo barely catching his head before it hits the road. As the dwarf came to, he was bombarded by questions from Vern. “Ho thar, gnome” the dwarf exclaimed, “I be Tarin Alemaker, brewer of some of the best ale around these parts. My fellow worker, Cantor, and me, were taking a cartload of ale to Yartar when we were accosted by at least 10 brigands. A felled a tree blocked our path. The scum hacked poor Cantor mercilessly and felled me after a few seconds. The last thing I remember was falling to the ground as a few of them warriors laughed. When I awoke, me mule was dead, the cart was missing, and poor Cantor lay in a pool of his own blood.” “There, there Tarin” consoled Milo. “We’ll take care of those ruffians.” “How far up the road did this happen?” questioned Pudge. “A few miles. If’n ye do catch up with those human vermin” Tarin turned and spat, “I’ll reward ye. And thanks fer the healing priest.” “How far to the Inn?” “About 7 miles” replied Valen. “Well, I’ll be there fer two nights of rest’n up. If ye find me belongings I’ll pay ye.” With that, Tarin started south towards the inn, thinking to himself “what an odd bunch o bounty hunters.” [/QUOTE]
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