Runara replies to Narath ”Mostly adventurous people like yourselves see Stormwreck Isle is home to some ruins that hold ancient treasure from long ago and ever since then people have tried to find it but to no avail, also rumor has it that some dragons used to live here but left without a trace.”
A woman turns to Elle and says several of us have died it’s not safe here anymore after all the monsters x that showed up unexpectedly it used to be peaceful.”
Narath nods and says, "Dragons huh? Hopefully we don't run into many of those. Tyr guides my sword arm, but I doubt I could take a real dragon if push came to shove." He turns back to Runara, "Do any of these Kobolds sell or repair weapons and armour, i'd love to visit them if so."
”That would be Squeek over there he runs a shop of sorts he might have something you like.” She points to a Semi-enclosed workshop not a full building but not entirely open-air either. It consists of a lean-to structure built from driftwood, scavenged ship planks, and large pieces of stone, providing a partial roof and three walls with the front left open to the elements.
The roof is a patchwork of ship sails, woven reeds, and metal sheets, supported by uneven wooden beams. Rain still drips through in places, but Squeek has strategically placed old shields and bits of armor to catch the worst leaks. The walls are a mix of stacked stones and salvaged wood, some of which bear faded names of wrecked ships. Gaps in the walls let in plenty of light during the day, though at night, the glow of the forge and scattered lanterns cast flickering shadows inside.
“I am truly sorry. I have not the power to promise anything but I swear as a cleric of Corellon Larethian that I will do everything in my power to help this place find peace once more.”
Elle will stay at the temple and pray. He will return to the group when the sun starts to set.
Zooke finds a space to bunk, placing what little gear he has there. Returning outside he sets overlooking the ocean making small talk with the curious kobolds.
Narath thought to invite Zooke to the shop with him, but seeing the other Goliath deep in observation of the Kobolds, knowing more than anyone the need for alone time as a Goliath. He goes to Squeek's shop on his own. What does he notice about the workshop when he gets closer.
As you approach the shop, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal rings out, followed by the high-pitched muttering of someone—probably Squeek—talking to himself. The scent of hot iron and sea salt fills the air, mixing with the faint smell of soot.
Near the entrance, you see a row of rusted, half-mended weapons propped against a crate, and a bucket filled with broken sword hilts and mismatched daggers sits nearby. A battered wooden sign hangs above the doorway, its uneven lettering hastily painted over an older, faded name.
A strange set of wind chimes made from bent nails and sword fragments clinks softly in the sea breeze. Just outside the door, there’s a small kobold-sized stool, scorched and covered in soot, as if Squeek takes quick breaks between hammering away at his forge.
Narath will approach smiling, “Greetings! My name is Narath, I was hoping to see some fine weapons and armour. Do you have anything that fits that description?” He looks uncertainly at the beat up weapons on the rack and makeshift wind chimes.
The kobold smiles and says “Don’t mind the mess these are just unfinished pieces of work I’ve been working on now what sort of weapons are you looking for?”
Narath looks at his gear, fine as it is. "I suppose at this point the only thing i'm looking for is some magic weaponry, unless you have some better armour than Chainmail."
“I do carry scale mail as for magic weapons I do have this.” He takes out a blade This longsword gleams with a quiet, unwavering light. The blade is finely honed, its edges sharp and gleaming, with intricate engravings of lions and shields etched along its length. The crossguard is shaped like the open wings of a guardian angel, with small gemstones embedded in the tips that glimmer softly. The hilt, wrapped in dark leather, fits comfortably in the hand, offering a solid grip. At the pommel, a golden lion’s head gazes forward, its eyes set with two small rubies that catch the light with each movement.
The sword hums with an aura of protection, resonating with the will of those who stand firm in defense of others. Those who wield it feel a sense of unbreakable resolve, their courage bolstered by its presence. It is said that the blade was forged by a long-lost order of paladins, bound by an oath to defend the weak and stand as unyielding protectors against the forces of darkness
Narath stands, mouth agape, “H-h-how did you come to acquire such a weapon? Is it for sale? C-can I buy it?” Obviously Narath is completely taken aback.
The merchant smiles and says “Now that is an interesting story, you see Long ago, before the fall of the dragon monastery on Stormwreck Isle, a knight of Bahamut namedSir Aldric Vael sailed to the island on a sacred quest. He carried with him a weapon knownas Dawnsworn, forged by Dragonborn smiths in service to the Platinum Dragon. It was said to be blessed with Bahamut’s light, granting strength to those who swore to defend the innocent.
”Sir Aldric sought to confront a rouge dragon, a disciple of the monastery who had turned against its teachings. Some say he succeeded, others claim he perished in battle, but all that is known for certain is that his was lost.”
“Centuries later, the weapon resurfaced when a local fisherman in Dragons Rest salvaged it from a wrecked ship after a terrible storm. Though rusted and dulled at first, the blade still pulsed with divine energy when held by those with noble intentions. The fisherman uninterested in keeping such s a relic sold it to me and I’ve been holding on to it ever since, of course I tried to fix it up to its original condition.”
Zooke spends time with the kobolds, answering questions, telling them stories of his time at sea, and teaching them a couple of PG sea chanty's. Eventually his stomach will growl, loudly, and he'll ask if they have a galley or some place to get some food.
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Runara replies to Narath ”Mostly adventurous people like yourselves see Stormwreck Isle is home to some ruins that hold ancient treasure from long ago and ever since then people have tried to find it but to no avail, also rumor has it that some dragons used to live here but left without a trace.”
A woman turns to Elle and says several of us have died it’s not safe here anymore after all the monsters x that showed up unexpectedly it used to be peaceful.”
Narath nods and says, "Dragons huh? Hopefully we don't run into many of those. Tyr guides my sword arm, but I doubt I could take a real dragon if push came to shove." He turns back to Runara, "Do any of these Kobolds sell or repair weapons and armour, i'd love to visit them if so."
(Still around, I just think Jodhr would just be relaxing in an alcove)
”That would be Squeek over there he runs a shop of sorts he might have something you like.” She points to a Semi-enclosed workshop not a full building but not entirely open-air either. It consists of a lean-to structure built from driftwood, scavenged ship planks, and large pieces of stone, providing a partial roof and three walls with the front left open to the elements.
The roof is a patchwork of ship sails, woven reeds, and metal sheets, supported by uneven wooden beams. Rain still drips through in places, but Squeek has strategically placed old shields and bits of armor to catch the worst leaks. The walls are a mix of stacked stones and salvaged wood, some of which bear faded names of wrecked ships. Gaps in the walls let in plenty of light during the day, though at night, the glow of the forge and scattered lanterns cast flickering shadows inside.
Elle looks very solemn at that moment.
“I am truly sorry. I have not the power to promise anything but I swear as a cleric of Corellon Larethian that I will do everything in my power to help this place find peace once more.”
Elle will stay at the temple and pray. He will return to the group when the sun starts to set.
Zooke finds a space to bunk, placing what little gear he has there. Returning outside he sets overlooking the ocean making small talk with the curious kobolds.
Narath thought to invite Zooke to the shop with him, but seeing the other Goliath deep in observation of the Kobolds, knowing more than anyone the need for alone time as a Goliath. He goes to Squeek's shop on his own. What does he notice about the workshop when he gets closer.
As you approach the shop, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal rings out, followed by the high-pitched muttering of someone—probably Squeek—talking to himself. The scent of hot iron and sea salt fills the air, mixing with the faint smell of soot.
Near the entrance, you see a row of rusted, half-mended weapons propped against a crate, and a bucket filled with broken sword hilts and mismatched daggers sits nearby. A battered wooden sign hangs above the doorway, its uneven lettering hastily painted over an older, faded name.
A strange set of wind chimes made from bent nails and sword fragments clinks softly in the sea breeze. Just outside the door, there’s a small kobold-sized stool, scorched and covered in soot, as if Squeek takes quick breaks between hammering away at his forge.
Narath will approach smiling, “Greetings! My name is Narath, I was hoping to see some fine weapons and armour. Do you have anything that fits that description?” He looks uncertainly at the beat up weapons on the rack and makeshift wind chimes.
The kobold smiles and says “Don’t mind the mess these are just unfinished pieces of work I’ve been working on now what sort of weapons are you looking for?”
Narath looks at his gear, fine as it is. "I suppose at this point the only thing i'm looking for is some magic weaponry, unless you have some better armour than Chainmail."
“I do carry scale mail as for magic weapons I do have this.” He takes out a blade This longsword gleams with a quiet, unwavering light. The blade is finely honed, its edges sharp and gleaming, with intricate engravings of lions and shields etched along its length. The crossguard is shaped like the open wings of a guardian angel, with small gemstones embedded in the tips that glimmer softly. The hilt, wrapped in dark leather, fits comfortably in the hand, offering a solid grip. At the pommel, a golden lion’s head gazes forward, its eyes set with two small rubies that catch the light with each movement.
The sword hums with an aura of protection, resonating with the will of those who stand firm in defense of others. Those who wield it feel a sense of unbreakable resolve, their courage bolstered by its presence. It is said that the blade was forged by a long-lost order of paladins, bound by an oath to defend the weak and stand as unyielding protectors against the forces of darkness
Narath stands, mouth agape, “H-h-how did you come to acquire such a weapon? Is it for sale? C-can I buy it?” Obviously Narath is completely taken aback.
The merchant smiles and says “Now that is an interesting story, you see Long ago, before the fall of the dragon monastery on Stormwreck Isle, a knight of Bahamut named Sir Aldric Vael sailed to the island on a sacred quest. He carried with him a weapon known as Dawnsworn, forged by Dragonborn smiths in service to the Platinum Dragon. It was said to be blessed with Bahamut’s light, granting strength to those who swore to defend the innocent.
”Sir Aldric sought to confront a rouge dragon, a disciple of the monastery who had turned against its teachings. Some say he succeeded, others claim he perished in battle, but all that is known for certain is that his was lost.”
“Centuries later, the weapon resurfaced when a local fisherman in Dragons Rest salvaged it from a wrecked ship after a terrible storm. Though rusted and dulled at first, the blade still pulsed with divine energy when held by those with noble intentions. The fisherman uninterested in keeping such s a relic sold it to me and I’ve been holding on to it ever since, of course I tried to fix it up to its original condition.”
Images of Sir Aldric Vael battling a dragon flash in Narath's mind, and his eyes start to water. "So... could I buy it?"
The merchant frowns “Normally I wouldn’t part ways with an item as valuable as this but I’m sure we can come to a compromise on the price.”
Narath is basically salivating now, "And how much do you want for it?"
”3,500 gold pieces however you may do payments and pay the full amount by a certain date if you so wish, or pay it off by helping me around the shop.”
Zooke spends time with the kobolds, answering questions, telling them stories of his time at sea, and teaching them a couple of PG sea chanty's. Eventually his stomach will growl, loudly, and he'll ask if they have a galley or some place to get some food.