“Rarified taste indeed! You shall see!” Barkas nods to the half orc and says “I am Barkas, and I will accompany you on your quest in Chult. I have foreseen this, but I have not foreseen you! My methods may not be like yours, but I can be deadly in my own way!” At this moment as if to demonstrate and convince , Barkas strikes an offensive pose and shouts Bok Choy! and his staff forms a heavy point like a serious wooden mace, and he produces flame in his hand, holding it in a ball, ready to throw, then let’s it dissipate. “I will help our quest, in my own way. The stars have shown me this!”
"Drink? Not yet. Don't any of you Kingfolk have a place to meet and share stories? How does anything ever get done with no warrior's halls..."
The grumbling orc continued to grumble as the group was swept up and led belowdecks to meet the mentioned priest - another half-man, dressed like a Kingfolk in their fancy, jingling metal armor and bearing a talisman of one of the Kingfolk gods. The back of Urzhol's skull warmed at the sight, though Urzhol herself felt a scowl coming on. She hung back, watching with intense eyes and clenching her fists to keep them from resting too near the grips of her weapons. She said nothing more, her grumbling falling silent for the first time since she boarded the boat. Instead she waited, letting the others run their mouths for the Kingfolk half-man
Going below deck with the others Grahl will hear the words of this warrior looking 6th member. Looking at her armor and comparing it to the rusty one he has on himself. Hes not sure what to think. A warrior writing letters in a fine armor. He tries to check the armor to see if looks like it has seen any battle.
While he does this he is interrupted by Barkas casting spells and going into a fighting pose. The initial reaction of Grahl is to lift his left arm up in defense. Even without the shield on it. But instead of a fearfull reaction the keen observer would note he took a small step forward before stopping himself as Barkas seems to not intend to attack.
Grahls left arm is lowered and the fingertips of his right hand slide off of the head of his warhammer. A soft growl follows. Strange people he thinks. Hes not used to a display of power without there actually being a brawl.
He lets the moment pass and responds to the half orc Grahl not with Order. Grahl is of Blood Moon tribe. he says proudly and while puffing his chest. But Grahl can help, better to not go alone.
"Oh, um... well as long as you are here to help you are welcome on this ship the Order chartered. I am Undril Silvertusk, at your service." Seeing the strange display of Barkas she lets out a small laugh. "You certainly are a strange lot. I am afraid you won't find a large story telling space on a ship my friend," she says to Urzhol. "However, should you pull up a barrel, we can swap stories here." She pulls out a small bottle from next to her, "I find this helps with the sea voyages."
Grahl, you notice her armor doesn't seem to have seen much if any combat. She holds herself and moves as though she has some training though.
You all feel the ship begin to leave the docks and make it's way out to sea. The next few days of travel are uneventful, if there is anyone you want to talk to or questions you want to ask, feel free to post them. Anything else you want to do or talk about for the next few days as the ship begins it's journey down to Chult.
Mica drops his hood, revealing raven black hair falling down to his shoulders. His skin was a rough, pebbly texture, gray as stone with a mossy greenish tinge. He was a little disappointed that the Orc’s warrior hall was not the same as the mead halls he was familiar with from the frontier, but perked up a bit when the priest produced a small bottle.
He makes himself comfortable on a barrel “If we are sharing stories, perhaps you could start”he nods to Undril “tell us about the business the Order has in Chult. What does your expedition seek?”
After his brief display to dispel the half-orc's thoughts about his battle-worthiness, Barkas sits down cross legged on the floor and leans forward, listening intently to the priest. He is interested to learn more about their mission and anything he can about the land they are travelling to. He remains quiet, focused on her.
Yasheira takes a seat at one of the barrels and waits for Undril to tell them about the expedition.
Over the next couple of days Yasheira is quite social and talkative, spending her time getting to know the others better, and even trying to get the others to know each other better, doing her best it seems to make the others spend time together. She seems to have adapted fairly well to travel by sea, just having been on a long voyage from Calimport, but she tries to care for anyone not so lucky.
"Yeah. Prove this is a warrior's hall. or at least a sad excuse for one," Urzhol said. "What's this Gauntlet? What kind of clan is it? What's this business it's got in Chult?"
The orcish woman did indeed pull up a barrel, slipping free her waterskin and taking a healthy swig. She looked around at the gathered others, meeting their eyes in turn, and snorted. "This lot looks like one of those Kingfolk marauder crews the shamans warned us about. Scaggly lot. Any of you ever killed a man?"
While looking down, Barkas says to the group in low tones initially, then rising in crescendo as he remembers and becomes agitated. “A man followed me one day, wouldn’t leave me alone. I try to stay away from people, most of them are no good anyway. This fellow wouldn’t take no for an answer. He wanted my pack, my things and he wanted my map. I don’t think he knew what it was but I couldn’t talk him out of it. I had to burn him up. Left him as a pile of cinders on the road. Didn’t want to do it, I didn’t have to do it, but he wouldn’t stop. He was going to run me through he said, brandished a rapier at me. Stupid blastin thief. There have been others that I have fought, run off, injured, but that’s the only dumb bastard that provoked me to the last final measure. How about you, big and powerful orc?” He looks up at Urzhol and scratches his beard with a squinky eye on her.
Grahl eyes Urzhol and frowns, how dare she suggest such a thing. His eyes remain on her some moments longer untill Barkas begins his story about how he was followed and had to burn the bandits. Grahl nods slightly as being able to burn someone would suggest powerfull magic.
He takes another swig of ale and remains standing up holding his hand up to claim the moment and says Grahl tell story first. Seeminly provoked by Urzhols suggestion he might not have been in battle before.
He clears his troat and starts speaking with his calm and low voice. A few warriors from tribe travelled to Hullack forest. It was first time Grahl travel that far. The woods got darker, thick trees block most light.He bends through his knees a bit to simulate moving more cautiously. But orc see in dark so kept walking.
Walking long time and feet get heavy, but Blood Moon tribe live in swampland so used to heavy steps. Grahl paces around the room a bit as he describes this and moves more and more sluggish with his feet. The pitch of his voice goes up a bit in a surprised tone But feet not wet, some orc get stuck so chief Gundab say something wrong. Group stop moving and check why feet heavy. ...Then Grahl hear it...
He stands near his barrel and taps on it with all his fingers in a rhythm. His voice drops low again Sound like rain but Grahl not get wethe says as he taps some more creating an omnious feeling in the room. Then sound stop. Grahl hear Dhor say Dhor get attacked, then Grahl feel to get hit with sticky stuff.
He remains silent a moment. Then sound continue.He taps a few more times. Grahl finally see... spiders come to group. Spiders some size of goat some boar.
Chieftan Gundab in front and spider see Gundab still move so shoot sticky stuff to trap him. Hahah Grahl lets out a short laugh. That spider mistake. Only make Gundab more angry. Chieftan strongest orc, stronger when angry. Grahl still try get sticky stuff off as Gundab breaks free of it and squash first spider.
Fighting start and Grahl need hurry to get out of sticky stuff.He grabs his pants a bit as he emulates how he tried to get it off. Grahl not manage to get weapon free only shield and hold off goatspider to keep away from Grahl and shaman Zok. Dhor not so lucky spider biting Dhor.He shakes his head slightly remembering the orc. Blood moon tribe fight hard to kill spider, Grahl kill goatspider as weapon finally free.He raises his fist at his success and others see his adreline rises as his words quicken and he speaks of this as if reliving the encounter.
Then orcs fall silent as huge queen of spiders come.Grahl holds his arms wide trying to display the size of the spiderqueen simulating its taller than Grahl himself. Chieftan attack queen but after few hit spider leg smash Gundab and Gundab fall back. Grahl think Gundab dead and charge forward with anger.
Grahl try kill queen spider but spider armor thick and hammer bounce from body.Grahl swings his arm slowly as if he is holding his hammer. Many attack block with shield before shield break into pieces.Grahl worry as spider charge Grahl and bite in side. Pain go through Grahl body but not fall. Grahl tough. He says proudly Then strike hammer onto spider eye and crush few eyes. Gore splatter on Grahl but glad spider let go.
Try to move forward but something wrong.He raises his palms up looking at them Grahl weak, legs no work good and wound sting with pain.He places his hand a little above his right hip Grahl fall down and see spider want to attack for kill. Shaman Zok use magic whip and wrap around spider, thorns make whip stay on. But Zok not strong enough to pull back and spider move to Grahl. He looks down a moment Grahl think fight over.
Raising his head again drawing in some breath That when Grahl see Gundab, chieftan not dead only hurt. Gundab swing maul at spider body and Gundab strong enough to break shield body. Spider make cry and Gundab raises maul again but Grahl eyes go dark.
When Grahl wake up see Zok help Grahl, heal wound best Zok can. Grahl lifts his chainmail up to reveal his scars on the right side of his belly. Some of the skin is blackened by the spiders poison around the entry places that never fully healed. For those that look closely and are paying attention to his story the bitewound is certainly from a big spider but not quite the enormous size that Grahl initially suggested. He turns a bit to display his scar proudly before lowering his chainmail again. Now Grahl wear armorhe says with a grin.
Finishing his story he looks at Urzhol again. Did Grahl kill man? repeating her earlier question. He holds the pair of human ears still dangling on a string at his waist. On road to ship bandits try steal from wagon, but not count on Grahl. Ask human what happened. He says with a serious face then lifts them up a bit as far as the string will let them so the ears can hear Urzhols question should she repeat it.
After a short moment he sits back down on his barrel pleased with his tale.
Mica gives a little snort at the Orc’s question “Kingfolk marauders. I heard similar tales in my youth of Orc marauders, terrorizing towns and villages.” Mica pauses and listens attentively as Barkas and Grahl share their stories, watching with interest as Grahl acts out part of the story.
When they are finished, he tells his own tale calmly and without emotion, not boasting but trying to show his worth to the others “I grew up in the wilds along the Dessarin River valley to the North. Cast out from my family, I wandered the hills, forests, and moors, doing what little I could to protect those scraping out a living on the frontier from the dangers of the wild. I do not kill for sport, but I do not shy away from a fight, those hills teem with wild beasts, ogres, and bandits.”
He points to some of the various furs and leathers covering his body and armor, a set of wolf claws draped over each of his shoulders and bear hide on his torso “This was a dire wolf stalking a logging crew, I slew him and drove away the others of his pack. This was a bear that turned to hunting man and child, I tracked him to his den and cornered him in the cave.”Mica shrugs “goblin, orc, man, or others, there are no shortage of those who would do ill toward others. I but do my small part to protect those in need.”
He looks again at the Orc “You need not fear weakness from me, friend. I will do my part.”
"I have never killed a man..." Yasheira says a bit apologetic as Mica finishes his story. "...because you cannot kill what is already dead." She continues in a dramatic tone. "Back in Calimshan I used to work with a crew of archaeologists...people who unearths forgotten treasures." She adds, turned to the orc-blooded. "This one time we found ourselves in the desert north of Calimport. If you´ve ever been in a desert you know it to be far warmer than the lands you´re all used too, with a relentless and unforgiving sun. We entered this ancient forgotten tomb buried in the sand, dating back to the Shoon Imperium, the last resting place of an evil ruler. We disabled many devious traps on our way down to the treasures awaiting us in the darkness. One of us, Khemed, had his hand cut off clean while trying to open a secret door. Once in the treasure chamber we faced the tombs sole occupant, who was not at all pleased with being disturbed I can tell you. His dreadful glare froze the lifeblood in my veins as it grabbed Sudeiman, shrivelling his sword arm. Basham, our warrior, was swatted aside after dealing it several mighty blows with his blade. Suddenly the creature stood in front of me, wrapped in the shrouds of death. Perhaps it was pure instinct making me throw a flask of oil at its feet followed by my torch, but the creature was incinerated before it could take another step." She pauses briefly before continuing. "I have faced this horror and worse, so you can all count on me doing my part as well." She finishes looking to the others.
With each new tale of boldness, savagery, or even mere necessity, the orcish woman's aggressive, challenging expression faltered further. When even the half-elf produced a tale of adventure and standing against an avatar of Death itself, her gaze finally fell. Her shoulders slumped, and all the wind left her body. One hand reached up to itch at the back of her skull, and even the most socially inept amongst the lot could see the burn of humiliation in her cheeks.
"...good tales," she half-mumbled. "Strong tales. Worthy achievements. Stories worth retelling, trophies worth boasting of. It's good to know this band has such strong tales amongst it." She gestured with her mostly-empty waterskin back to the chain-armored cleric, still bitterly, obviously humbled. "Go on. What of this Gauntlet? What tales can this clan of yours boast of?"
Mica watches the orc respond to the various exploits and stories of the group, but can’t help but notice they do not share one of their own. Mica gives a gentle prompt “Great battles and deeds are not the only mark of a worthy life. I travel to Chult to seek out strange beasts that I have only heard about in stories, and perhaps to find my own path in life. What do we call you friend, and what do you seek in Chult?”
"...I am Urzhol. Born of the Snow Raven clan, though...Snow Raven no longer." The orcish woman drained the rest of her waterskin, letting it drop limply to the deck beneath her feet. "In this faraway jungle, I seek absolution. A tale so grand, a trophy so magnificent, that my clan reneges their verdict and accepts me back. That is my wish. That is my goal," she said. She fixed the ranger with a fulminating stare, scowling to the degree her tusks allowed.
"If war and deed are not the mark of a worthy life, then what is? What do you Kingfolk know of worthiness? Sitting soft and fat in your warm cities, buying and selling and buying and selling...what use is a book of receipts when the gods demand an accounting of your life? What sort of child thrills to the stories of the day their ancestors got a good price on a bunch of wheat? You Kingfolk invent your own fancytales, tell stories of people who never lived to your children because you never make heroes of your own. Whatever mark of a worthy life you see in that, I want no part of it. I want to live forever in song and tale, in the stories of my people! THAT is the only mark of a life worth living!"
Undil listens carefully before saying, " The Order was formed to fight off evil and protect others. We heard of Chult and that they were having trouble with armies of undead within the jungle. Troops were sent to deal with the undead and formed a camp in the jungle. They have been sending back reports of their progress I was told, recently they have been having more issues so they asked for reinforcements. Since you are using our ship for transport, I would ask that you aid us in reinforcing the camp in return."
As you begin to tell tales of battle, the priest says, "Well, I have yet to have to kill anyone. I have fought some low level undead when my knight fought an evil necromancer. Mostly I have been training as a priest of Torm and been guarding Helm's Keep. I am a newer member of the Order but I volunteered because I heard people needed help and I knew my powers could aid them."
"Well Urzhol, with what I heard of the chultan jungles I expect you will have plenty of opportunity to make a name for yourself there, and I sincererly hope you will be able to return one day to the Snow Raven clan in a glorious fashion." Yasheira says trying to comfort the fierce orc warrior.
"Armies of the dead, huh. I have some experience with the undead, they can certainly pose a great threat but if we stick together and cooperate wisely we will surely survive and eventually have our own songs and tales." Yasheira says encouragingly to the others. "I have however other matters to attend to as well in the chultan jungles, so how long do you expect us to act as reinforcements at your camp?" She asks Undil.
Grahl will remain silent after Urzhol finishes speaking. Bold words were not uncommon to him. Grahl himself knew he didnt have the battle experience of a renowned warrior. Not yet anyway.
Grahl never fight undead before. But will help fight.
He reaches in his bag pulling out some stale pieces of bread to eat as he listens to Yasheira
“Do I look like a Kingfolk to you?” Mica asks Urzhol without emotion, pointing at his gray and pebbled face “we are not that different, you and I. I too was cast out from friends and family. I seek my path in life, you seek absolution. Well, I hope you find it, friend”he raises his own drink in salute.
Mica listens to Yasheira and Grahl speak of the undead, then turns to Barkas “How about you Master Dwarf, what do you see in those charts you keep staring at?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
“Rarified taste indeed! You shall see!” Barkas nods to the half orc and says “I am Barkas, and I will accompany you on your quest in Chult. I have foreseen this, but I have not foreseen you! My methods may not be like yours, but I can be deadly in my own way!” At this moment as if to demonstrate and convince , Barkas strikes an offensive pose and shouts Bok Choy! and his staff forms a heavy point like a serious wooden mace, and he produces flame in his hand, holding it in a ball, ready to throw, then let’s it dissipate. “I will help our quest, in my own way. The stars have shown me this!”
"Drink? Not yet. Don't any of you Kingfolk have a place to meet and share stories? How does anything ever get done with no warrior's halls..."
The grumbling orc continued to grumble as the group was swept up and led belowdecks to meet the mentioned priest - another half-man, dressed like a Kingfolk in their fancy, jingling metal armor and bearing a talisman of one of the Kingfolk gods. The back of Urzhol's skull warmed at the sight, though Urzhol herself felt a scowl coming on. She hung back, watching with intense eyes and clenching her fists to keep them from resting too near the grips of her weapons. She said nothing more, her grumbling falling silent for the first time since she boarded the boat. Instead she waited, letting the others run their mouths for the Kingfolk half-man
Why you shouldn't start ANOTHER thread about DDB not giving away free redeems on your hardcopy book purchases.
Thinking of starting ANOTHER thread asking why Epic Boons haven't been implemented? Read this first to learn why you shouldn't!
Going below deck with the others Grahl will hear the words of this warrior looking 6th member. Looking at her armor and comparing it to the rusty one he has on himself. Hes not sure what to think. A warrior writing letters in a fine armor. He tries to check the armor to see if looks like it has seen any battle.
While he does this he is interrupted by Barkas casting spells and going into a fighting pose. The initial reaction of Grahl is to lift his left arm up in defense. Even without the shield on it. But instead of a fearfull reaction the keen observer would note he took a small step forward before stopping himself as Barkas seems to not intend to attack.
Grahls left arm is lowered and the fingertips of his right hand slide off of the head of his warhammer. A soft growl follows. Strange people he thinks. Hes not used to a display of power without there actually being a brawl.
He lets the moment pass and responds to the half orc Grahl not with Order. Grahl is of Blood Moon tribe. he says proudly and while puffing his chest. But Grahl can help, better to not go alone.
"Oh, um... well as long as you are here to help you are welcome on this ship the Order chartered. I am Undril Silvertusk, at your service." Seeing the strange display of Barkas she lets out a small laugh. "You certainly are a strange lot. I am afraid you won't find a large story telling space on a ship my friend," she says to Urzhol. "However, should you pull up a barrel, we can swap stories here." She pulls out a small bottle from next to her, "I find this helps with the sea voyages."
Grahl, you notice her armor doesn't seem to have seen much if any combat. She holds herself and moves as though she has some training though.
You all feel the ship begin to leave the docks and make it's way out to sea. The next few days of travel are uneventful, if there is anyone you want to talk to or questions you want to ask, feel free to post them. Anything else you want to do or talk about for the next few days as the ship begins it's journey down to Chult.
Mica drops his hood, revealing raven black hair falling down to his shoulders. His skin was a rough, pebbly texture, gray as stone with a mossy greenish tinge. He was a little disappointed that the Orc’s warrior hall was not the same as the mead halls he was familiar with from the frontier, but perked up a bit when the priest produced a small bottle.
He makes himself comfortable on a barrel “If we are sharing stories, perhaps you could start” he nods to Undril “tell us about the business the Order has in Chult. What does your expedition seek?”
After his brief display to dispel the half-orc's thoughts about his battle-worthiness, Barkas sits down cross legged on the floor and leans forward, listening intently to the priest. He is interested to learn more about their mission and anything he can about the land they are travelling to. He remains quiet, focused on her.
Yasheira takes a seat at one of the barrels and waits for Undril to tell them about the expedition.
Over the next couple of days Yasheira is quite social and talkative, spending her time getting to know the others better, and even trying to get the others to know each other better, doing her best it seems to make the others spend time together. She seems to have adapted fairly well to travel by sea, just having been on a long voyage from Calimport, but she tries to care for anyone not so lucky.
Grahl will look around first to see if there is more ale.
If there is not he will certainly take a swig from the small bottle before setting it back down. Grahl would hear of this Order.
He will place down his bag and shield against the wall and pulls up a barrel to sit on.
Good to hear deeds of those Grahl travel with. Grahl tell tale after. He will also wait for Undril to speak first as it is her 'hall' .
"Yeah. Prove this is a warrior's hall. or at least a sad excuse for one," Urzhol said. "What's this Gauntlet? What kind of clan is it? What's this business it's got in Chult?"
The orcish woman did indeed pull up a barrel, slipping free her waterskin and taking a healthy swig. She looked around at the gathered others, meeting their eyes in turn, and snorted. "This lot looks like one of those Kingfolk marauder crews the shamans warned us about. Scaggly lot. Any of you ever killed a man?"
Why you shouldn't start ANOTHER thread about DDB not giving away free redeems on your hardcopy book purchases.
Thinking of starting ANOTHER thread asking why Epic Boons haven't been implemented? Read this first to learn why you shouldn't!
While looking down, Barkas says to the group in low tones initially, then rising in crescendo as he remembers and becomes agitated. “A man followed me one day, wouldn’t leave me alone. I try to stay away from people, most of them are no good anyway. This fellow wouldn’t take no for an answer. He wanted my pack, my things and he wanted my map. I don’t think he knew what it was but I couldn’t talk him out of it. I had to burn him up. Left him as a pile of cinders on the road. Didn’t want to do it, I didn’t have to do it, but he wouldn’t stop. He was going to run me through he said, brandished a rapier at me. Stupid blastin thief. There have been others that I have fought, run off, injured, but that’s the only dumb bastard that provoked me to the last final measure. How about you, big and powerful orc?” He looks up at Urzhol and scratches his beard with a squinky eye on her.
Grahl eyes Urzhol and frowns, how dare she suggest such a thing. His eyes remain on her some moments longer untill Barkas begins his story about how he was followed and had to burn the bandits. Grahl nods slightly as being able to burn someone would suggest powerfull magic.
He takes another swig of ale and remains standing up holding his hand up to claim the moment and says Grahl tell story first. Seeminly provoked by Urzhols suggestion he might not have been in battle before.
He clears his troat and starts speaking with his calm and low voice. A few warriors from tribe travelled to Hullack forest. It was first time Grahl travel that far. The woods got darker, thick trees block most light. He bends through his knees a bit to simulate moving more cautiously. But orc see in dark so kept walking.
Walking long time and feet get heavy, but Blood Moon tribe live in swampland so used to heavy steps. Grahl paces around the room a bit as he describes this and moves more and more sluggish with his feet. The pitch of his voice goes up a bit in a surprised tone But feet not wet, some orc get stuck so chief Gundab say something wrong. Group stop moving and check why feet heavy. ...Then Grahl hear it...
He stands near his barrel and taps on it with all his fingers in a rhythm. His voice drops low again Sound like rain but Grahl not get wet he says as he taps some more creating an omnious feeling in the room. Then sound stop. Grahl hear Dhor say Dhor get attacked, then Grahl feel to get hit with sticky stuff.
He remains silent a moment. Then sound continue. He taps a few more times. Grahl finally see... spiders come to group. Spiders some size of goat some boar.
Chieftan Gundab in front and spider see Gundab still move so shoot sticky stuff to trap him. Hahah Grahl lets out a short laugh. That spider mistake. Only make Gundab more angry. Chieftan strongest orc, stronger when angry. Grahl still try get sticky stuff off as Gundab breaks free of it and squash first spider.
Fighting start and Grahl need hurry to get out of sticky stuff. He grabs his pants a bit as he emulates how he tried to get it off. Grahl not manage to get weapon free only shield and hold off goatspider to keep away from Grahl and shaman Zok. Dhor not so lucky spider biting Dhor. He shakes his head slightly remembering the orc. Blood moon tribe fight hard to kill spider, Grahl kill goatspider as weapon finally free. He raises his fist at his success and others see his adreline rises as his words quicken and he speaks of this as if reliving the encounter.
Then orcs fall silent as huge queen of spiders come. Grahl holds his arms wide trying to display the size of the spiderqueen simulating its taller than Grahl himself. Chieftan attack queen but after few hit spider leg smash Gundab and Gundab fall back. Grahl think Gundab dead and charge forward with anger.
Grahl try kill queen spider but spider armor thick and hammer bounce from body. Grahl swings his arm slowly as if he is holding his hammer. Many attack block with shield before shield break into pieces. Grahl worry as spider charge Grahl and bite in side. Pain go through Grahl body but not fall. Grahl tough. He says proudly Then strike hammer onto spider eye and crush few eyes. Gore splatter on Grahl but glad spider let go.
Try to move forward but something wrong. He raises his palms up looking at them Grahl weak, legs no work good and wound sting with pain. He places his hand a little above his right hip Grahl fall down and see spider want to attack for kill. Shaman Zok use magic whip and wrap around spider, thorns make whip stay on. But Zok not strong enough to pull back and spider move to Grahl.
He looks down a moment Grahl think fight over.
Raising his head again drawing in some breath That when Grahl see Gundab, chieftan not dead only hurt. Gundab swing maul at spider body and Gundab strong enough to break shield body. Spider make cry and Gundab raises maul again but Grahl eyes go dark.
When Grahl wake up see Zok help Grahl, heal wound best Zok can. Grahl lifts his chainmail up to reveal his scars on the right side of his belly. Some of the skin is blackened by the spiders poison around the entry places that never fully healed. For those that look closely and are paying attention to his story the bitewound is certainly from a big spider but not quite the enormous size that Grahl initially suggested.
He turns a bit to display his scar proudly before lowering his chainmail again. Now Grahl wear armor he says with a grin.
Finishing his story he looks at Urzhol again. Did Grahl kill man? repeating her earlier question. He holds the pair of human ears still dangling on a string at his waist. On road to ship bandits try steal from wagon, but not count on Grahl. Ask human what happened. He says with a serious face then lifts them up a bit as far as the string will let them so the ears can hear Urzhols question should she repeat it.
After a short moment he sits back down on his barrel pleased with his tale.
Mica gives a little snort at the Orc’s question “Kingfolk marauders. I heard similar tales in my youth of Orc marauders, terrorizing towns and villages.” Mica pauses and listens attentively as Barkas and Grahl share their stories, watching with interest as Grahl acts out part of the story.
When they are finished, he tells his own tale calmly and without emotion, not boasting but trying to show his worth to the others “I grew up in the wilds along the Dessarin River valley to the North. Cast out from my family, I wandered the hills, forests, and moors, doing what little I could to protect those scraping out a living on the frontier from the dangers of the wild. I do not kill for sport, but I do not shy away from a fight, those hills teem with wild beasts, ogres, and bandits.”
He points to some of the various furs and leathers covering his body and armor, a set of wolf claws draped over each of his shoulders and bear hide on his torso “This was a dire wolf stalking a logging crew, I slew him and drove away the others of his pack. This was a bear that turned to hunting man and child, I tracked him to his den and cornered him in the cave.” Mica shrugs “goblin, orc, man, or others, there are no shortage of those who would do ill toward others. I but do my small part to protect those in need.”
He looks again at the Orc “You need not fear weakness from me, friend. I will do my part.”
"I have never killed a man..." Yasheira says a bit apologetic as Mica finishes his story. "...because you cannot kill what is already dead." She continues in a dramatic tone. "Back in Calimshan I used to work with a crew of archaeologists...people who unearths forgotten treasures." She adds, turned to the orc-blooded. "This one time we found ourselves in the desert north of Calimport. If you´ve ever been in a desert you know it to be far warmer than the lands you´re all used too, with a relentless and unforgiving sun. We entered this ancient forgotten tomb buried in the sand, dating back to the Shoon Imperium, the last resting place of an evil ruler. We disabled many devious traps on our way down to the treasures awaiting us in the darkness. One of us, Khemed, had his hand cut off clean while trying to open a secret door. Once in the treasure chamber we faced the tombs sole occupant, who was not at all pleased with being disturbed I can tell you. His dreadful glare froze the lifeblood in my veins as it grabbed Sudeiman, shrivelling his sword arm. Basham, our warrior, was swatted aside after dealing it several mighty blows with his blade. Suddenly the creature stood in front of me, wrapped in the shrouds of death. Perhaps it was pure instinct making me throw a flask of oil at its feet followed by my torch, but the creature was incinerated before it could take another step." She pauses briefly before continuing. "I have faced this horror and worse, so you can all count on me doing my part as well." She finishes looking to the others.
With each new tale of boldness, savagery, or even mere necessity, the orcish woman's aggressive, challenging expression faltered further. When even the half-elf produced a tale of adventure and standing against an avatar of Death itself, her gaze finally fell. Her shoulders slumped, and all the wind left her body. One hand reached up to itch at the back of her skull, and even the most socially inept amongst the lot could see the burn of humiliation in her cheeks.
"...good tales," she half-mumbled. "Strong tales. Worthy achievements. Stories worth retelling, trophies worth boasting of. It's good to know this band has such strong tales amongst it." She gestured with her mostly-empty waterskin back to the chain-armored cleric, still bitterly, obviously humbled. "Go on. What of this Gauntlet? What tales can this clan of yours boast of?"
Why you shouldn't start ANOTHER thread about DDB not giving away free redeems on your hardcopy book purchases.
Thinking of starting ANOTHER thread asking why Epic Boons haven't been implemented? Read this first to learn why you shouldn't!
Mica watches the orc respond to the various exploits and stories of the group, but can’t help but notice they do not share one of their own. Mica gives a gentle prompt “Great battles and deeds are not the only mark of a worthy life. I travel to Chult to seek out strange beasts that I have only heard about in stories, and perhaps to find my own path in life. What do we call you friend, and what do you seek in Chult?”
"...I am Urzhol. Born of the Snow Raven clan, though...Snow Raven no longer." The orcish woman drained the rest of her waterskin, letting it drop limply to the deck beneath her feet. "In this faraway jungle, I seek absolution. A tale so grand, a trophy so magnificent, that my clan reneges their verdict and accepts me back. That is my wish. That is my goal," she said. She fixed the ranger with a fulminating stare, scowling to the degree her tusks allowed.
"If war and deed are not the mark of a worthy life, then what is? What do you Kingfolk know of worthiness? Sitting soft and fat in your warm cities, buying and selling and buying and selling...what use is a book of receipts when the gods demand an accounting of your life? What sort of child thrills to the stories of the day their ancestors got a good price on a bunch of wheat? You Kingfolk invent your own fancytales, tell stories of people who never lived to your children because you never make heroes of your own. Whatever mark of a worthy life you see in that, I want no part of it. I want to live forever in song and tale, in the stories of my people! THAT is the only mark of a life worth living!"
Why you shouldn't start ANOTHER thread about DDB not giving away free redeems on your hardcopy book purchases.
Thinking of starting ANOTHER thread asking why Epic Boons haven't been implemented? Read this first to learn why you shouldn't!
Undil listens carefully before saying, " The Order was formed to fight off evil and protect others. We heard of Chult and that they were having trouble with armies of undead within the jungle. Troops were sent to deal with the undead and formed a camp in the jungle. They have been sending back reports of their progress I was told, recently they have been having more issues so they asked for reinforcements. Since you are using our ship for transport, I would ask that you aid us in reinforcing the camp in return."
As you begin to tell tales of battle, the priest says, "Well, I have yet to have to kill anyone. I have fought some low level undead when my knight fought an evil necromancer. Mostly I have been training as a priest of Torm and been guarding Helm's Keep. I am a newer member of the Order but I volunteered because I heard people needed help and I knew my powers could aid them."
"Well Urzhol, with what I heard of the chultan jungles I expect you will have plenty of opportunity to make a name for yourself there, and I sincererly hope you will be able to return one day to the Snow Raven clan in a glorious fashion." Yasheira says trying to comfort the fierce orc warrior.
"Armies of the dead, huh. I have some experience with the undead, they can certainly pose a great threat but if we stick together and cooperate wisely we will surely survive and eventually have our own songs and tales." Yasheira says encouragingly to the others. "I have however other matters to attend to as well in the chultan jungles, so how long do you expect us to act as reinforcements at your camp?" She asks Undil.
Grahl will remain silent after Urzhol finishes speaking. Bold words were not uncommon to him. Grahl himself knew he didnt have the battle experience of a renowned warrior. Not yet anyway.
Grahl never fight undead before. But will help fight.
He reaches in his bag pulling out some stale pieces of bread to eat as he listens to Yasheira
“Do I look like a Kingfolk to you?” Mica asks Urzhol without emotion, pointing at his gray and pebbled face “we are not that different, you and I. I too was cast out from friends and family. I seek my path in life, you seek absolution. Well, I hope you find it, friend” he raises his own drink in salute.
Mica listens to Yasheira and Grahl speak of the undead, then turns to Barkas “How about you Master Dwarf, what do you see in those charts you keep staring at?”