[5e] The Tenth Era Of War IC

[Dain Broadbeam]

Dain Broadbeam

Dain sighs "I'll help" and goes to help with the firewood.

[Gluteus_Maximus]

Lighting a fire, huddling up, and then drifting off to sleep, You're awakened by a call of some snowy ravens at the dawn: "Kee-ree-kee-keeeeee" they cry from right outside the tower. There is no sound of snow. There is no sound of clattering bones. Just the trudging of horses approaching, and then the sound of a knocking on the front door. "Let us in, it's freezing outside. Just like every day I suppose" and then a round of laughter from a dozen other people outside. One of the guards from inside the tower moves aside Thokk's barricade and unlatches the door, letting them in. An orc with long pitch hair and a receding hairline wears furs, and beside him a chattering human wearing fancy dress and barely any furs. A dozen others wearing a similar amount of furs to the orc and bearing the symbol of Whiteforge on their left chest; royal guards. This orc is Hrolfir O'o, the lord of Whiteforge. A sword lies at the Orc's belt, which looks like a fancy metal that Dain recognizes as Adamantine.

"What was with all those skeletons? The militia already took care of it, but what was that about? I don't know much about magic, but that appeared to be a bit more than the usual." The fancy dress wearing human repeats the Orc's words, chattering and less understandable than the Orc in this situation.

[odigity]

Thokk stands at attention until Hrolfir or another person of greater rank than me tells me otherwise.

[Hemnon]

Caelyn

With a sigh and a slight annoyance to her demeanor, Caelyn muttered something in Sylvan (to which those that can speak Sylvan will understand it as: Great, more damn people).

[Illven]

Is... there going to be uh enough food. Robin asked worried.

[Dain Broadbeam]

Dain Broadbeam

On spotting the royal guards, and more specifically Hrolfir O'o, Dain stands up straight and makes an awkward bow, rather unsure what to do. His eyes does however linger on the lords blade.

[Gluteus_Maximus]

The wizard stands in reply to Robin talking and bows, leaning on his staff with both arms. "There is plenty of food, I assure you, as there are still the trade routes from the southerners. The militia took care of this problem where my magic has failed me; and yet, my magic allowed us to be saved. You all were very lucky." He says, standing back up at his full height.

His full height is still less than Hrolfir's, however, being more than two heads shorter. Hrolfir notices Thokk standing at attention, and gestures a command "as you were". He strokes his chin, long, sharp fingernails against greenish skin protruding. He notices Dain staring at his sword, and that he is a dwarf. He unsheathes it; a perfect, thin blade, serrated along the back side not different from the shape of a saw, engraved with symbols, symbols those from Whiteforge know as the symbols of the ancient orcish gods Gokruer (Go-Kru-Air), Lazeus(Lazz-Ee-Us), and Xyeyr(Z-Yay-Er). He hands it to Dain for him to inspect, as not many dwarves get to lay eyes on such craftsmanship. He knocks his "Translator" on the head before speaking.

"Yes," he says in a deep, refined voice, "We took care of it. My blade, Shark's Tooth, made quick work of at least twenty of the skeletal army; I have already been to the clerics today, so worry not of any injuries I took. More importantly, how did all those skeletons appear? I have been briefed that such an army is impossible by the amount of magic mortal men possess."

The wizard closes his eyes and leans down in a disdainful way. "There is such magic that can do this, but it is in the legends. Not since the days of Hungram Heavy-Hammer has such magic been cast." Hrolfir nods at this.

Then, Hrolfir turns to the party. "And who are you all? I saw that an adventuring group took the job to go search for the young boy- Edrin- lost in the snow."

[odigity]

Thokk goes to fetch some wood from the stores.

[Dain Broadbeam]

Dain Broadbeam

Dain both handles and inspect the blade as a smith would, feeling the perfect balance of it. He is so captivated by the blade, and the very fact that the lord let him inspect it(!) that he does not notice him speaking before he is almost done. He nervously clears his throat. "Thank you my lord," he begins as he hands the blade back. "That would be us. We met the young lad last night and got a bit worried."

Spoiler

Show

Dain would also have looked for any signature marks of the smith who made the blade

[Gluteus_Maximus]

The blade is not marked as such, most likely made by commission to not include the Smith's mark. Dain does know, however, that there is a mountain where the deep dwarves to the northeast ran adamantine out from the Drows' realm, and forged weapons with it for a hefty price. He doesn't know if that run has stopped, however. Hrolfir takes the blade back.

"Well, we found him. Huddled under a tree a few kilometers east of here, warm as a fireplace. But your group officially signed on to the mission, so you will still be compensated."

Edrin walks in, dragging two skeletons behind him.

Bound by nails through the ends of the bones, the wolf skeletons appear to be just as the wolves described in the job he took but skeletons instead. They have burn marks and cuts along the leg bones. Edrin's glasses lie pierced on one of the wolves' claws. He drops them on the floor, panting.

"I was attacked by skeletons too," he says, squinting. "I guess I'm not getting a bonus for the pelts." he forces out in a breath, smiling, then he starts panting again .

[Illven]

Probably not, no. Robin admits with a chuckle.

[Hemnon]

Caelyn

The cold icequeen that was Caelyn (at least for the rest of the day) did not look impressed and didn't even feel the wish to comment. That'd just cause the need for her to voice out a justification for her opinion and she just did not think it was worth the bother. But to anyone looking at the very pretty icey-snowflake-clinging Fey Lady would notice the whole 'dull eyes, not impressed' kind of demeanor.

[Dain Broadbeam]

Dain Broadbeam

Dain chuckles at Edrins comment, relaxing a fraction. "No, I guess skinning bone is kind of pointless. Glad to see you're all right."

[2D8HP]

Theren Liadon High Elf Fighter Noble[ Passive Perception:13 AC:16, HP: 9

(To Thokk)
"Well sir, the lost lad we had been searching for is found, do you have a suggestion for a place in need of an arrow or a blade?"

OOC

[odigity]

Thokk

(To Theren)
"There's always work in the city. I can escort you there if you like..."

Thokk glances at Rucron for approval while stacking the retrieved wood in a pile by the fire.

[Illven]

Yes, let's head back to the city. Robin replied.

[Gluteus_Maximus]

Rucron nods from a knelt position, getting up to his full height of 6'5". Hrolfir looks up at him, though not that high of an angle from his eyes to Rucron's. He then looks down to match eyes with Theren. "Yes, there is one job that you may help with at this moment: escorting me back to the palace. The royal guards have something else to attend to on the traderoads." A guard nods, gestures for the rest to follow him, and they get on their horses, trudging off to the south. "We have extra ice horses," he says, leading you all outside to the sight that is the ice horses.

They aren't much, just beautiful, pale white-blue with blonde-to-white manes. They have fur on their backs and puffier tails, as well as comfy saddles. So the definition of "much".

The ride back to the city is quite graceful, the docile horses running through the snow playfully, yet dutifully. Arriving at the gate you see the bones of many skeletons strewn all across the ground, a good dozen with vertebrae sawed in half.

And finally, the arrival at the palace/city hall/political bigwig building. "I commend you for your efforts," he says with a wave, tying up his horse and grabbing the reins of yours, "Tomorrow is the tournament in honor of my child's birthday and squire Edrin's knighthood. I would expect your attendance, and possible participation if you wish."

The royal translator chatters out the same words, then makes a mad dash for the door where a visible roaring fire burns.

(You are all level 3)

[odigity]

Thokk

Thokk, looking 35% stronger all of a sudden, points and says, "You can sign up for the tournament over here," then heads in that direction to sign up.

[Dain Broadbeam]

Dain Broadbeam

Dain is lost in thought on the way back to the city, at times completely oblivious to those around him. "I'll go with you to the sign up, but after that I need to spend some time at the temple of Tormund. I'll see you at the tournament tomorrow."

[Gluteus_Maximus]

Rucron also joins in the sign-up. A half-orc with a loud, peppy voice, seemingly the announcer, quartermaster and recruiter all at once, shakes your hands vigorously and bends your hands open, thrusting a pen in it, bending your hands closed, and lets you sign your names. When you're running low on ink, he aggressively grabs your wrist and pulls it over to the ink well, then pushes it back to the signup book.

The temple of Tormund is one of the bigger ones in the city. Statuettes of his likeness, potbelly with a massive hammer in one hand and a gallon beer mug in the other, stand on pedestals around the building. It isn't a very graceful building; the architecture is symbolic of the compulsive builder dwarves changing plans a quarter of the way through. And then another quarter after that, and another quarter. Until they finished. The pane glass isn't something a critic would give 5 stars, but these things aren't the selling points. The real meaning to going here is that followers of Tormund are exposed to alcohol from the day they're born, baptizing in a pool of fine dwarven beer, and free beer with every sermon (If it weren't for that the temple of Folmore is best of friends with the temple of Tormund and donates a large number of gemstones, they may have gone out of business). The high priest, a dwarf dressed in fine silks, each with lingering beer & vomit stains, notices you enter. He is clearly quite drunk as he turns and says "Oh," with a stumble. "Hoo-er yoo? I tink yer recgonizable to my eye holes but yew look dang young"

[Dain Broadbeam]

Dain Broadbeam

Dain bows his head in reverence to the high priest and smiles "My name is Dain Broadbeam. I think you see the likeness in me to my father, Tordek." as his thoughts turns towards his family his smile fades. Producing his holy symbol he continues in a more sombre tone: "After the disappearance of my family I started the path of a Paladin of Tormund, and I believe it is time for me to swear my oaths. I would like to spend some time here in contemplation and honour of Tormund before swearing the oaths."

[Gluteus_Maximus]

Dain Broadbeam

Dain bows his head in reverence to the high priest and smiles "My name is Dain Broadbeam. I think you see the likeness in me to my father, Tordek." as his thoughts turns towards his family his smile fades. Producing his holy symbol he continues in a more sombre tone: "After the disappearance of my family I started the path of a Paladin of Tormund, and I believe it is time for me to swear my oaths. I would like to spend some time here in contemplation and honour of Tormund before swearing the oaths."

"Ishat sho?" he stumbles, then gets to his feet and takes a glug. "Feel free. There'sh shum beer in tha cornurr." He points to a big pile of barrels.

[Hemnon]

Caelyn

The snowqueen of icyness seems still as uninterested as ever in the idea of battle for the sake of cheering crowds. Where-ever anyone else from the group would go that was not a savage gladiator arena, Caelyn would follow along with them. If none, then she'd head for the tavern they had all met at to get something to drink and wash away the horrors of those snow-skeletons from earlier.

[2D8HP]

"Tomorrow is the tournament in honor of my child's birthday and squire Edrin's knighthood. I would expect your attendance, and possible participation if you wish."

Theren Liadon High Elf Fighter Noble[ Passive Perception:13 AC:16, HP: 9

"Yes, of course?"

OOC

[Illven]

So anyone else wanna fight? Robin asks.