"Hmmmmm..." Vark vocalizes audibly as he finds the socket empty. Where could the thing have gone? Most of the Acharnost wouldn't have thought to do anything with the sigil after the battle. None of them except for Seid or Jex, and Vark has already talked to Seid. With a small huff of annoyance, Vark pulls the codex from its pocket and begins to send a message to Jex. "Hey Jex, I'm looking for the seal that... was used to free Matthew. I need it to help Aureaonus. Do you know where it is?"
"Nice to meet you, you must be Va... ...oh, that's ok, we'll get...he's gone again already" Nakia trails off. "Is he always like that? "
Nakia chuckles, clearly unoffended by Vark's briefest of greetings. She takes in the scene before her, watching patiently, a slight look of curiosity to her gaze as she looks at the stranger in the room, but she says nothing, instead taking in the interactions between everyone else.
Meanwhile, Vark is met with a long pause, Jex clearly receiving the message but somehow keeping his mind blank to avoid wasting the reply, perhaps unexpected given the outward impulsiveness of the half-elf. After several moments, the reply comes back.
"No"
His voice seems strained, perhaps exhaustion from the long journey and the stress of watching and riding alone taking its toll.
Vark’s face scrunches in mild frustration before releasing as a sigh. He makes his way back to the others now at a more casual pace. “Jex doesn’t know where it is, but he must have seen it… maybe it’s buried at the bottom of that junky wagon of his, or maybe the kobolds have it… I guess we’ll have to wait til he gets back.” He stops talking as his eyes meet Nakia’s calm, watchful gaze. “Oh, hi, sorry about running off there. I’m Vark!”
"Nice to meet you Vark, I'm Nakia, I've been running the orphanage and setting up the merchants guild since Jex left. He told me a little about you, but it would be lovely to meet you properly when we welcome you to the opening of the Sheercleft Hub of International Trade"
She warmly extends a hand as she introduces herself.
“Oh!” Vark says, readily shaking the offered hand but internally processing her connection to Jex, wondering what exactly he had told her about the warlock. The woman’s kind smile and warmth leave him with little to mistrust however. “Wow, ‘Hub of International Trade’? That sounds exciting, I look forward to it.” He rocks a back a bit, bouncing a little on his feet. “Uhm, so… should we gather with everyone else? I do have more to update everyone on, I scried on our friend Archie too. I think he’s in the Shadowfell.”
"You would be welcome to use the new merchants' bar, it needs some finishing touches, but is useable and free for Jex's companions, I would be glad to pour you all an ale!" Nakia says delightedly clapping her hands.
Nakia stands quietly as Vark explains everything that happened during his time away. On the surface she was politely listening to a story that had little to do with her, a practiced expression of friendly interest. Beneath however, she intently listened for the details, drawing connections and trying to piece together what was being recounted with the little Jex had told her and becoming increasingly frustrated that he hadn't let on quite what they were getting themselves into. As Vark finishes, she smiles.
"If you will excuse me, I will prepare the premises for your visit and open the barrel. I shall see you all shortly"
She gives a slight now as she exits the chamber before slipping up the kobold tunnel to Jex's office. Changing her clothes quickly she returns to the kitchen.
"How are the preparations for the opening?"
"Very good, we are a little ahead of schedule and the children are excited for their part."
"Wonderful, we need to move up the schedule." She beams.
"How much?"
"We start in one hour" She holds up a hand to silence of gasps and objections, before offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder and assuring the volunteers that they would be great. She hurried off to summon the children to their positions before heading to the door herself to greet the archanost.
She grins broadly and offers a bow once again as they appear. "Welcome, welcome. Please, let me hang your cloaks and show you around. As I am sure you are aware, the building is set in a square with four main wings. Here is the tavern, with the trading stalls and stables in front. Still not quite ready, but very much functional once we get a few more traders passing through. Next door we have the guild space, where members can gather to strike deals, a much more exclusive place and we will end there later. Please this way..."
Nakia guides the group around the corner. "I know you all know the orphanage, Jex told me many of you have visited and helped here. I know it means a lot given his own history... The children would like to show you what he has made for them." As Nakia opens the door, several children stand ready to meet the town heroes, they shyly introduce themselves and explain what they learn in each of the rooms, from history and geography to cooking and more athletic skills. Nakia intercedes to explain the process occasionally and speaks with pride and affection to and about the young people under her care.
"One final stop before we sit and take a well earned drink." Nakia takes the group around the final corner. "My favourite space, something we worked for before, but never quite got right." She opens the door to a wide, mostly bare hall. Set into recesses in the walls are altars, symbols and statues, shrines to a variety of deities. The smell of burning oil and incense fills the air "A space for every faith of the people of Sheercleft we hope. We have space for more though. Everyone should have a place to pay respect to a deity and make offerings as they need to don't you think?" She stops under a giant statue of a hammer wielding bearded man, which takes up the largest space at one end of the room. "I'm not quite sure why, but Jex insisted this one takes pride of place, even though he cast his own to a deep corner. I told him the temple was surely enough, but he was quite firm in his position." She shrugs as though the rogues actions were beyond understanding. "Shall we take that ale?"
Vark is amazed by the scope of Jex’s work. Truly he hasn’t paid any attention to what has been being built here, and this is far beyond the charming little orphanage that he had been expecting.
“This is incredible!” he says as their tour brings them to the shrine room. “I had no idea this place was gonna be so big.”
Nakia beams, "I'm so glad you approve, the children and the volunteers have worked so hard to make this a reality. And, if all goes well, we will not have to rely on charity to keep the orphanage running. The guild and the inn will make enough income to ensure these children get the very best start "
In a surprising turn of fate, Brundir found that the trip to Khaz a Gungron was actually very peaceful. The tension of possible goblin arrows or ambushes was never lost on the dwarf, and he always made sure he never traveled without his full regalia. Despite this caution, though, the traveling mission went unmolested the entire way. It was a pleasant feeling to be relatively comfortable in his homeland again.
Along the way, the caravan took a side path to indulge their leader. They all heard stories of the great Archarnost and their triumphs, but Brundir offered them proof of deeds. Down a side road wide enough to a wagon to pass with another pulled off to the side, he found it: The razed camp set upon by the fury of Sheercleft’s champions. The gates were smashed beyond repair, the tents within were nothing more than skeletal poles and long-destroyed canvas. Remnants of an old conflict were still visible, too. Great bones and telltale bits of carrion created a grizzly entry sight. Further in, signs of conflict were evident as well by the old, dried pools of blood and scorched earth. “This’s it,” Brundir proclaimed, “This’s where we ambushed th’ last of th’ goblins horde that took Sheercleft.”
“They weren’t ready…” Brundir walked among the ruins where the past fighting was most evident. Several of the entourage followed their leader with enraptured interest - Thurston’s Naked Guard contingent were in full attendance among them. “I wish I could’a taken y’all there. Thurston and Vark brought th’ sky down on’em!” Brundir stood among the blackened earth and circled as he described the events, “Lightnin’ crashed, wind howled, I thought our own peaks were tryin’a throw’em down! ‘Ere they stood, though: Vark, Thurston, an’ Jex. Hammer crashed, lightnin’ blasted, an’ arrows flew. Death’s never done more’n ten minutes’n they did then.” Brundir rushed across the open camp near to the burned-out central command post. A large, semi-recognizable mass of rotted flesh and bones was all that remained after the crows, wolves, and flies had their fill. “Val Rime’and! Think she’s scary at Ringruts? This bastard got’er worst. Twice’er size all ‘round, an’ ev’ry time‘er hammer swung, it felt like a blizzard peelin’ yer skin back! Look ‘ere an’ heed my words: Get.That.Woman.A.Drink when she walks in, ‘cause she did more’n a dozen could.” The sight-seeing followers roared with cheers and laughter, and swore to drown their town’s paragon of strength whenever she’s near a tavern. As the tour of the grounds was concluding, a careful observer noted the entrance was left without a tale of valor. The air around Brundir almost visibly darkened as he walked among his own piece of the battle.
“Who ‘ere’s seen an ogre? How’s about a giant? Seen two of’em t’gether?” Brundir spat on the ground and paces between gruesome mounds of carnage, “Bugbears, mean bastards, stronger’n hobgoblins twice over, an’ half as much sense. Three stood ‘ere, then the big ones came. Y’all remember Hurrig, yeah? He ‘n I took th’ gate. Morradin ‘imself pushed us in, an’ we made’im proud. Smaller ones dropped first. Tough bastards, but we beat’em. Then th’ giant came…Big ol’ mother-humper with two heads an’ a tree in it’s hand. Hurrig ‘imself knocked it down, then I jumped on an’ stabbed it’s face. We felt like gods; beat-up gods, but still there.” Brundir paused for a long moment, then silently retrieved a handkerchief from a pocket inside his belt. A quick shake, then he placed it over his face. With a twist, he removed his enchanted, false eye and turned to the gathered audience. The underlying grim tone finally came to the fore of his account, and his real eye stared back through time where the others stood. “We were proud. So proud it blinded us. Two more came outta that gate: another bugbear, an’ a big ogre. Th’ big bastard caught my chest, thank th’ elves fer their metal or I’d be dead ‘ere, too. There was a pop, or a crack, then I fell down. By th’ time I looked up, th’ other was on me swingin’ a nasty hunk o’ metal. Got me right here,” he pointed to his scarred temple, “then another pop-crack. Ask a great hero in hist’ry if they were scared. Promise ye, if ye get ‘no’, they’re a liar an’ they shat themself. I owe Val an’ Thurston drinks ‘til they die, ‘cause they came an’ saved me. Thurston’s hammer struck th’ big one in it’s back an’ killed it right there. Val put a spear through th’ small one. I wasn’t done, though.” Brundir takes a long, shaky breath as he readies himself, “Half given, twice received. Isn’t that how it goes? Well, I gave one an’ got twice back. Last thing it knew, an’ I made sure it did, was these words.” It was Brundir’s first public admission of his own brutality in war. Until now, the Archarnost were the only ones that knew. The dwarf wondered if he’d be seen as a murderer, or as a violent psycopath. He carried no regret for his actions, but would others see it the same? The hard-set eyes of those listening gave him a measure of affirmation that they did, at least to some degree.
“Come on, then, need t’go.” Brundir made his way back to the caravan with his entourage in tow. It may have been a bit self-serving, but these people of Sheercleft needed to know how fought for them, and how important it was that their voices carry total conviction to the Khaz.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The morning after the guild's grand opening Vark set out for Hyarantar as he'd promised, to entreat the aid of the elves. A pair of the children he'd met the previous night watched from behind a building on the edge of town. It didn't occur to Vark that perhaps they should be in class at this hour for he had never known such formal education himself. Instead he considered how strange he must seem to them. They'd likely never met another half-orc, even Vark hadn't. Let alone a half-orc dressed in enchanted silk, carved with lightning scars and crystalline veins, wielding a winged spear and caressed by the wind wherever he went. "Morning!" he called to them, flashing a toothy smile. They recoiled at first, their cover blown. Slowly though they inched into the light, a dwarven girl and a human boy.
"M-mornin', Sir Vark." the girl greeted sheepishly, while the boy hung a bit back, wide eyed.
Vark's face twisted a bit, though the smile remained. Had anyone ever called him Sir before? He shook his head and gave an easy wave of his hand. "Oh, uhm, just Vark is fine." There was a pause, neither side equipped to continue the small talk. At last Vark continued, "Wanna see something cool?" The children exchanged excited glances, then turned back to nod eagerly. Vark grinned again, the corners of his mouth pressing his eyes closed. "Good!" From his robes he retrieved the codex, it's countless facets refracting the morning light into a hundred shards of red. These glimmers of light intensified as Vark began to focus, solidifying into a circle and runes. The mage was unaware of his audience's reaction to the spectacle, he was too busy sculpting black thunder and red lightning into a form suitable for break-neck travel. The steed reared up as it was completed, letting out a crackling neigh and a flare of ruby sparks from its mouth. It was only then that Vark turned back to the children, that same smile plastered on his face.
They were stunned, mouths agape, eyes locked on the wonderous thing they'd just seen. The girl was completely speechless, but somehow the boy managed to mutter "Z-z-zan... dron..."
It was more a question than anything, for the boy still couldn't believe his eyes, but its meaning was lost on Vark. "Zandron? Hmmm... I like it!" With that, he half-orc mounted his freshly summoned steed and waved goodbye to the children who, still stunned, couldn't even return the gesture. He sped off, carried by Zandron's thundering hooves, and headed west to Hyarantar.
In seemingly no time, Vark returns from the elves. Though he has lost speed riding with a group on the return trip, he more than makes up for it in glorious, triumphant style. Zandron's red and grey form is tailed by a wave of deep green and gold. Hyarantar's finest cavalry have come to assist Sheercleft in her time of need. There are cheers from the townsfolk as the impressive force rides into town, banners bearing the crest of Wydrioth raised high. The sight fills Vark with hope, and once again his thoughts turn to the ancient Cantallume Alliance. If the peoples of Arden had come together once before, surely they could again... if the time arises. He is pulled out of his daydreaming as he realizes suddenly that perhaps he should be giving direction to the newcomers. "Uhm... th-there should be room to stable your horses at the guild hall... maybe. Or... uhm... actually please just hold here, let me check with the others..." he says before cracking Zandron's reigns and rushing off to find someone with a little more knowledge of war-time protocol than he has.
Thurston walks the orphanage listening to Nakia's explanations. He had helped Jex started the construction and knows some of the kids but he notices that there are more than he had expected.
He plays with some children, lifting up to three of them in each arm as they walk trough the premises.
When they reach the final room he solemnly touches Thor statue and silently thanks his friend.
Once the elven cavalry have been shown to their accommodations, Vark resumes his hunt for the Sigil of Earth. If Jex doesn't have it, and Vark isn't completely convinced that the half-elf doesn't have it thrown somewhere in that junky wagon, the kobolds are the next best bet. He makes his way to the orphanage and quickly flags down the first white scaled kobold he finds. "Excuse me! Hi, uhm, I was actually hoping you could help me find something..."
"Svabol? Bivai, 'no scaleless speak'. Gethrisj ehtah Ix usv Nakia." the little dragonkin hisses back before rushing off, apparently in some sort of hurry.
"Ah, r-right, Nakia..." Vark says to the kobold's fleeing back, then begins the hunt anew for the kind foreign woman. It doesn't take too long to find Nakia, and upon doing so he immediately launches into an explanation of his current quest, "So, like I mentioned the other day I have this storm giant friend, Aureaonus, and..." a minute or so passes as Vark elaborates, and by the end Vark is grateful that Nakia agrees to help him. She leads him off to one of the classrooms, currently empty save for two kobolds... going over lesson plans? Their draconic chattering stops as the pair enters, and they both exchange greetings with Nakia in draconic. She seems to introduce Vark to them, then gestures for Vark to address the one which apparently speaks the 'scaleless' tongue.
"Uhm h-hi. I'm looking for something that either Jex or possibly one of your kin found beneath Sheercleft. It looked like a metal star with nine points. Have you seen it?"
One kobold scratches its head and looks at the other, who shrugs. The first kobold appears to be the senior and snaps an instruction at his subordinate.
"Gethrisj tor wer rimem!"
The second kobold dashes off, but, when he eventually returns, neither is any the wiser. The Sheerscales seem to have no idea Vark is talking about. The only thought that they have is to ask those who've been in and out of Lord Erik's dungeon in the past month or two.
By now a small gang of kobolds has assembled in the orphanage's school room, all bickering with one another in draconic about where exactly the sigil of earth could have disappeared to and who might have made off with it.
"Japachi!" One bellows over the rest from the front in an almost dragon-like roar, silencing the rest of his compatriots.
"Lord Vark," the kobold begins in surprisingly smooth and unaccented Breannian, bowing deeply before the sorcerer, "my name is Sniksnak. Few dare to enter the dwarves' ancient dungeon, least of all the miners and children of the surface folk, unless they are accompanied by the Acharnost. However, one man did pass through unaccompanied. His hair was golden brown and his clothes dark red and black."
"Oh!... oh..." he responds, his tone souring as the information sets in. "I thought I told him I was looking for it... why didn't he say anything," Vark mutters, beginning to turn out of the room. "Uhm, thank you Sniksnak, and Nakia, and everyone," he says with a hasty bow before rushing out of the building. As soon as he is outside, he pulls out the codex and sends a message to Matthew. "Hey, still looking for the Sigil of Earth. I need it to free Aury. Have you seen it?"
Vark draws several suspicious looks from passers-by as he communes with the codex on Sheercleft's streets in broad daylight. Although the Acharnost have won the villagers' trust for the most part, the sorcerer's mysterious occult cube with its shifting sigils remains an object of suspicion. A few moments after the half-orc has sent the message, a cloud of red smoke billows besides him and Vark sees Matthew - not Gabe - appear before him. Strangely, the devil's sudden appearance does not draw so much as a look from any of Sheercleft's residents.
"A sending, Vark? How quaint," he teases. "I had thought our connection deeper than that. Did you not leave the Sigil of Earth in Spangelhelm's cursed sealing chamber after my liberation?"
"Hmmmmm..." Vark vocalizes audibly as he finds the socket empty. Where could the thing have gone? Most of the Acharnost wouldn't have thought to do anything with the sigil after the battle. None of them except for Seid or Jex, and Vark has already talked to Seid. With a small huff of annoyance, Vark pulls the codex from its pocket and begins to send a message to Jex. "Hey Jex, I'm looking for the seal that... was used to free Matthew. I need it to help Aureaonus. Do you know where it is?"
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
"Nice to meet you, you must be Va... ...oh, that's ok, we'll get...he's gone again already" Nakia trails off. "Is he always like that? "
Nakia chuckles, clearly unoffended by Vark's briefest of greetings. She takes in the scene before her, watching patiently, a slight look of curiosity to her gaze as she looks at the stranger in the room, but she says nothing, instead taking in the interactions between everyone else.
Meanwhile, Vark is met with a long pause, Jex clearly receiving the message but somehow keeping his mind blank to avoid wasting the reply, perhaps unexpected given the outward impulsiveness of the half-elf. After several moments, the reply comes back.
"No"
His voice seems strained, perhaps exhaustion from the long journey and the stress of watching and riding alone taking its toll.
Vark’s face scrunches in mild frustration before releasing as a sigh. He makes his way back to the others now at a more casual pace. “Jex doesn’t know where it is, but he must have seen it… maybe it’s buried at the bottom of that junky wagon of his, or maybe the kobolds have it… I guess we’ll have to wait til he gets back.” He stops talking as his eyes meet Nakia’s calm, watchful gaze. “Oh, hi, sorry about running off there. I’m Vark!”
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
"Nice to meet you Vark, I'm Nakia, I've been running the orphanage and setting up the merchants guild since Jex left. He told me a little about you, but it would be lovely to meet you properly when we welcome you to the opening of the Sheercleft Hub of International Trade"
She warmly extends a hand as she introduces herself.
“Oh!” Vark says, readily shaking the offered hand but internally processing her connection to Jex, wondering what exactly he had told her about the warlock. The woman’s kind smile and warmth leave him with little to mistrust however. “Wow, ‘Hub of International Trade’? That sounds exciting, I look forward to it.” He rocks a back a bit, bouncing a little on his feet. “Uhm, so… should we gather with everyone else? I do have more to update everyone on, I scried on our friend Archie too. I think he’s in the Shadowfell.”
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
"You would be welcome to use the new merchants' bar, it needs some finishing touches, but is useable and free for Jex's companions, I would be glad to pour you all an ale!" Nakia says delightedly clapping her hands.
"I have missed my time working an inn!"
"I'll be glad to drink it," Aiden says. "Thurston certainly will too." When Vark's message fully registers with Aiden, he stops. "He's where?"
Aiden wasn't a boastful man, but he had his pride -- pride that had been thoroughly ****ed by Archibald Swiftstep at Morloth.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Aiden Olrikson | Human | Tempest Domain Cleric of Thor
Nakia stands quietly as Vark explains everything that happened during his time away. On the surface she was politely listening to a story that had little to do with her, a practiced expression of friendly interest. Beneath however, she intently listened for the details, drawing connections and trying to piece together what was being recounted with the little Jex had told her and becoming increasingly frustrated that he hadn't let on quite what they were getting themselves into. As Vark finishes, she smiles.
"If you will excuse me, I will prepare the premises for your visit and open the barrel. I shall see you all shortly"
She gives a slight now as she exits the chamber before slipping up the kobold tunnel to Jex's office. Changing her clothes quickly she returns to the kitchen.
"How are the preparations for the opening?"
"Very good, we are a little ahead of schedule and the children are excited for their part."
"Wonderful, we need to move up the schedule." She beams.
"How much?"
"We start in one hour" She holds up a hand to silence of gasps and objections, before offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder and assuring the volunteers that they would be great. She hurried off to summon the children to their positions before heading to the door herself to greet the archanost.
She grins broadly and offers a bow once again as they appear. "Welcome, welcome. Please, let me hang your cloaks and show you around. As I am sure you are aware, the building is set in a square with four main wings. Here is the tavern, with the trading stalls and stables in front. Still not quite ready, but very much functional once we get a few more traders passing through. Next door we have the guild space, where members can gather to strike deals, a much more exclusive place and we will end there later. Please this way..."
Nakia guides the group around the corner. "I know you all know the orphanage, Jex told me many of you have visited and helped here. I know it means a lot given his own history... The children would like to show you what he has made for them." As Nakia opens the door, several children stand ready to meet the town heroes, they shyly introduce themselves and explain what they learn in each of the rooms, from history and geography to cooking and more athletic skills. Nakia intercedes to explain the process occasionally and speaks with pride and affection to and about the young people under her care.
"One final stop before we sit and take a well earned drink." Nakia takes the group around the final corner. "My favourite space, something we worked for before, but never quite got right." She opens the door to a wide, mostly bare hall. Set into recesses in the walls are altars, symbols and statues, shrines to a variety of deities. The smell of burning oil and incense fills the air "A space for every faith of the people of Sheercleft we hope. We have space for more though. Everyone should have a place to pay respect to a deity and make offerings as they need to don't you think?" She stops under a giant statue of a hammer wielding bearded man, which takes up the largest space at one end of the room. "I'm not quite sure why, but Jex insisted this one takes pride of place, even though he cast his own to a deep corner. I told him the temple was surely enough, but he was quite firm in his position." She shrugs as though the rogues actions were beyond understanding. "Shall we take that ale?"
Aiden gazes up at the visage of Thor, chuckling to himself. "He's committed, that's certain," he says.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Aiden Olrikson | Human | Tempest Domain Cleric of Thor
Vark is amazed by the scope of Jex’s work. Truly he hasn’t paid any attention to what has been being built here, and this is far beyond the charming little orphanage that he had been expecting.
“This is incredible!” he says as their tour brings them to the shrine room. “I had no idea this place was gonna be so big.”
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Nakia beams, "I'm so glad you approve, the children and the volunteers have worked so hard to make this a reality. And, if all goes well, we will not have to rely on charity to keep the orphanage running. The guild and the inn will make enough income to ensure these children get the very best start "
In a surprising turn of fate, Brundir found that the trip to Khaz a Gungron was actually very peaceful. The tension of possible goblin arrows or ambushes was never lost on the dwarf, and he always made sure he never traveled without his full regalia. Despite this caution, though, the traveling mission went unmolested the entire way. It was a pleasant feeling to be relatively comfortable in his homeland again.
Along the way, the caravan took a side path to indulge their leader. They all heard stories of the great Archarnost and their triumphs, but Brundir offered them proof of deeds. Down a side road wide enough to a wagon to pass with another pulled off to the side, he found it: The razed camp set upon by the fury of Sheercleft’s champions. The gates were smashed beyond repair, the tents within were nothing more than skeletal poles and long-destroyed canvas. Remnants of an old conflict were still visible, too. Great bones and telltale bits of carrion created a grizzly entry sight. Further in, signs of conflict were evident as well by the old, dried pools of blood and scorched earth. “This’s it,” Brundir proclaimed, “This’s where we ambushed th’ last of th’ goblins horde that took Sheercleft.”
“They weren’t ready…” Brundir walked among the ruins where the past fighting was most evident. Several of the entourage followed their leader with enraptured interest - Thurston’s Naked Guard contingent were in full attendance among them. “I wish I could’a taken y’all there. Thurston and Vark brought th’ sky down on’em!” Brundir stood among the blackened earth and circled as he described the events, “Lightnin’ crashed, wind howled, I thought our own peaks were tryin’a throw’em down! ‘Ere they stood, though: Vark, Thurston, an’ Jex. Hammer crashed, lightnin’ blasted, an’ arrows flew. Death’s never done more’n ten minutes’n they did then.” Brundir rushed across the open camp near to the burned-out central command post. A large, semi-recognizable mass of rotted flesh and bones was all that remained after the crows, wolves, and flies had their fill. “Val Rime’and! Think she’s scary at Ringruts? This bastard got’er worst. Twice’er size all ‘round, an’ ev’ry time‘er hammer swung, it felt like a blizzard peelin’ yer skin back! Look ‘ere an’ heed my words: Get.That.Woman.A.Drink when she walks in, ‘cause she did more’n a dozen could.” The sight-seeing followers roared with cheers and laughter, and swore to drown their town’s paragon of strength whenever she’s near a tavern. As the tour of the grounds was concluding, a careful observer noted the entrance was left without a tale of valor. The air around Brundir almost visibly darkened as he walked among his own piece of the battle.
“Who ‘ere’s seen an ogre? How’s about a giant? Seen two of’em t’gether?” Brundir spat on the ground and paces between gruesome mounds of carnage, “Bugbears, mean bastards, stronger’n hobgoblins twice over, an’ half as much sense. Three stood ‘ere, then the big ones came. Y’all remember Hurrig, yeah? He ‘n I took th’ gate. Morradin ‘imself pushed us in, an’ we made’im proud. Smaller ones dropped first. Tough bastards, but we beat’em. Then th’ giant came…Big ol’ mother-humper with two heads an’ a tree in it’s hand. Hurrig ‘imself knocked it down, then I jumped on an’ stabbed it’s face. We felt like gods; beat-up gods, but still there.” Brundir paused for a long moment, then silently retrieved a handkerchief from a pocket inside his belt. A quick shake, then he placed it over his face. With a twist, he removed his enchanted, false eye and turned to the gathered audience. The underlying grim tone finally came to the fore of his account, and his real eye stared back through time where the others stood. “We were proud. So proud it blinded us. Two more came outta that gate: another bugbear, an’ a big ogre. Th’ big bastard caught my chest, thank th’ elves fer their metal or I’d be dead ‘ere, too. There was a pop, or a crack, then I fell down. By th’ time I looked up, th’ other was on me swingin’ a nasty hunk o’ metal. Got me right here,” he pointed to his scarred temple, “then another pop-crack. Ask a great hero in hist’ry if they were scared. Promise ye, if ye get ‘no’, they’re a liar an’ they shat themself. I owe Val an’ Thurston drinks ‘til they die, ‘cause they came an’ saved me. Thurston’s hammer struck th’ big one in it’s back an’ killed it right there. Val put a spear through th’ small one. I wasn’t done, though.” Brundir takes a long, shaky breath as he readies himself, “Half given, twice received. Isn’t that how it goes? Well, I gave one an’ got twice back. Last thing it knew, an’ I made sure it did, was these words.” It was Brundir’s first public admission of his own brutality in war. Until now, the Archarnost were the only ones that knew. The dwarf wondered if he’d be seen as a murderer, or as a violent psycopath. He carried no regret for his actions, but would others see it the same? The hard-set eyes of those listening gave him a measure of affirmation that they did, at least to some degree.
“Come on, then, need t’go.” Brundir made his way back to the caravan with his entourage in tow. It may have been a bit self-serving, but these people of Sheercleft needed to know how fought for them, and how important it was that their voices carry total conviction to the Khaz.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The morning after the guild's grand opening Vark set out for Hyarantar as he'd promised, to entreat the aid of the elves. A pair of the children he'd met the previous night watched from behind a building on the edge of town. It didn't occur to Vark that perhaps they should be in class at this hour for he had never known such formal education himself. Instead he considered how strange he must seem to them. They'd likely never met another half-orc, even Vark hadn't. Let alone a half-orc dressed in enchanted silk, carved with lightning scars and crystalline veins, wielding a winged spear and caressed by the wind wherever he went. "Morning!" he called to them, flashing a toothy smile. They recoiled at first, their cover blown. Slowly though they inched into the light, a dwarven girl and a human boy.
"M-mornin', Sir Vark." the girl greeted sheepishly, while the boy hung a bit back, wide eyed.
Vark's face twisted a bit, though the smile remained. Had anyone ever called him Sir before? He shook his head and gave an easy wave of his hand. "Oh, uhm, just Vark is fine." There was a pause, neither side equipped to continue the small talk. At last Vark continued, "Wanna see something cool?" The children exchanged excited glances, then turned back to nod eagerly. Vark grinned again, the corners of his mouth pressing his eyes closed. "Good!" From his robes he retrieved the codex, it's countless facets refracting the morning light into a hundred shards of red. These glimmers of light intensified as Vark began to focus, solidifying into a circle and runes. The mage was unaware of his audience's reaction to the spectacle, he was too busy sculpting black thunder and red lightning into a form suitable for break-neck travel. The steed reared up as it was completed, letting out a crackling neigh and a flare of ruby sparks from its mouth. It was only then that Vark turned back to the children, that same smile plastered on his face.
They were stunned, mouths agape, eyes locked on the wonderous thing they'd just seen. The girl was completely speechless, but somehow the boy managed to mutter "Z-z-zan... dron..."
It was more a question than anything, for the boy still couldn't believe his eyes, but its meaning was lost on Vark. "Zandron? Hmmm... I like it!" With that, he half-orc mounted his freshly summoned steed and waved goodbye to the children who, still stunned, couldn't even return the gesture. He sped off, carried by Zandron's thundering hooves, and headed west to Hyarantar.
In seemingly no time, Vark returns from the elves. Though he has lost speed riding with a group on the return trip, he more than makes up for it in glorious, triumphant style. Zandron's red and grey form is tailed by a wave of deep green and gold. Hyarantar's finest cavalry have come to assist Sheercleft in her time of need. There are cheers from the townsfolk as the impressive force rides into town, banners bearing the crest of Wydrioth raised high. The sight fills Vark with hope, and once again his thoughts turn to the ancient Cantallume Alliance. If the peoples of Arden had come together once before, surely they could again... if the time arises. He is pulled out of his daydreaming as he realizes suddenly that perhaps he should be giving direction to the newcomers. "Uhm... th-there should be room to stable your horses at the guild hall... maybe. Or... uhm... actually please just hold here, let me check with the others..." he says before cracking Zandron's reigns and rushing off to find someone with a little more knowledge of war-time protocol than he has.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Thurston walks the orphanage listening to Nakia's explanations. He had helped Jex started the construction and knows some of the kids but he notices that there are more than he had expected.
He plays with some children, lifting up to three of them in each arm as they walk trough the premises.
When they reach the final room he solemnly touches Thor statue and silently thanks his friend.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Once the elven cavalry have been shown to their accommodations, Vark resumes his hunt for the Sigil of Earth. If Jex doesn't have it, and Vark isn't completely convinced that the half-elf doesn't have it thrown somewhere in that junky wagon, the kobolds are the next best bet. He makes his way to the orphanage and quickly flags down the first white scaled kobold he finds. "Excuse me! Hi, uhm, I was actually hoping you could help me find something..."
"Svabol? Bivai, 'no scaleless speak'. Gethrisj ehtah Ix usv Nakia." the little dragonkin hisses back before rushing off, apparently in some sort of hurry.
"Ah, r-right, Nakia..." Vark says to the kobold's fleeing back, then begins the hunt anew for the kind foreign woman. It doesn't take too long to find Nakia, and upon doing so he immediately launches into an explanation of his current quest, "So, like I mentioned the other day I have this storm giant friend, Aureaonus, and..." a minute or so passes as Vark elaborates, and by the end Vark is grateful that Nakia agrees to help him. She leads him off to one of the classrooms, currently empty save for two kobolds... going over lesson plans? Their draconic chattering stops as the pair enters, and they both exchange greetings with Nakia in draconic. She seems to introduce Vark to them, then gestures for Vark to address the one which apparently speaks the 'scaleless' tongue.
"Uhm h-hi. I'm looking for something that either Jex or possibly one of your kin found beneath Sheercleft. It looked like a metal star with nine points. Have you seen it?"
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
One kobold scratches its head and looks at the other, who shrugs. The first kobold appears to be the senior and snaps an instruction at his subordinate.
"Gethrisj tor wer rimem!"
The second kobold dashes off, but, when he eventually returns, neither is any the wiser. The Sheerscales seem to have no idea Vark is talking about. The only thought that they have is to ask those who've been in and out of Lord Erik's dungeon in the past month or two.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Vark is exasperated. “Well… do you all have any idea who has been in there? Y-you must have seen something.”
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
By now a small gang of kobolds has assembled in the orphanage's school room, all bickering with one another in draconic about where exactly the sigil of earth could have disappeared to and who might have made off with it.
"Japachi!" One bellows over the rest from the front in an almost dragon-like roar, silencing the rest of his compatriots.
"Lord Vark," the kobold begins in surprisingly smooth and unaccented Breannian, bowing deeply before the sorcerer, "my name is Sniksnak. Few dare to enter the dwarves' ancient dungeon, least of all the miners and children of the surface folk, unless they are accompanied by the Acharnost. However, one man did pass through unaccompanied. His hair was golden brown and his clothes dark red and black."
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
"Oh!... oh..." he responds, his tone souring as the information sets in. "I thought I told him I was looking for it... why didn't he say anything," Vark mutters, beginning to turn out of the room. "Uhm, thank you Sniksnak, and Nakia, and everyone," he says with a hasty bow before rushing out of the building. As soon as he is outside, he pulls out the codex and sends a message to Matthew. "Hey, still looking for the Sigil of Earth. I need it to free Aury. Have you seen it?"
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Vark draws several suspicious looks from passers-by as he communes with the codex on Sheercleft's streets in broad daylight. Although the Acharnost have won the villagers' trust for the most part, the sorcerer's mysterious occult cube with its shifting sigils remains an object of suspicion. A few moments after the half-orc has sent the message, a cloud of red smoke billows besides him and Vark sees Matthew - not Gabe - appear before him. Strangely, the devil's sudden appearance does not draw so much as a look from any of Sheercleft's residents.
"A sending, Vark? How quaint," he teases. "I had thought our connection deeper than that. Did you not leave the Sigil of Earth in Spangelhelm's cursed sealing chamber after my liberation?"
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva