Post by lloyd on Feb 15, 2016 15:38:37 GMT -5
As Olek and Arthas headed towards the crypt, Jaz on the way to the others to tell them it was okay to come to town, Olek looked over at Arthas, who seemed to be mostly in his own world. As they walked, Olek pulled out a small leather-bound bundle. Undoing the laces, and pocketing the container that would keep water away from the treasure, Olek opened a journal. A simple, leather-bound thing, it was so far quite blank. Putting a quill in his mouth, he pulled out a small vial of ink, and clasped it to his belt, opened. He pulled the quill out of his mouth, dipped it into the vial, and started writing as he walked.
"The 1st Expedition; The Syphon of Ferwin
It began as most things do; a wish for money, glory, adventure, the fulfillment of debt, something personal, or all of the above. We assembled in Sir Weston's office, and signed our names to the task at hand; the retrieval of some artifact called the Syphon of Ferwin, in a town called Addler Stop. Supposedly it was buried with a noble. Myself and a kind fellow named Arthas Thomms (a priest of Mortomal, I think) paid for the carriage cab (60 miles, 18 silvers, 9 from myself, 9 from him) to this backwater town. There were rumors that something strange was happening there; ghouls and the like. We spent a good bit of time debating how to approach this, since we were effectively going in to rob graves. The answer was simple in my mind; regardless of whether we go in as heroes or as robbers, if disturbances of corpses, graves, and sarcophagi are discovered, we can blame it on undead regardless of whether they were there or not; a few corpses strewn throughout the crypt, covered in sword cuts would be enough to convince a few simple peasants, and we claim glory as heroes for clearing them out. Nonetheless the others took convincing, but it is essentially what we settled for. Arthas, myself, and the peculiar bequeathed gnome named Jaz (sharp of tongue as he is of wit) headed for town. A couple of villagers told us the rumors were not rumors. When we came to the mayor's mansion, he was telling the crowd they were panicking over rumors. When we talked to him in private, he told us they were not rumors and that he had seen the walking skeletons himself. This only made our jobs simpler; we were officially heroes come to rescue the town. We told him that a noble was buried with something that may be linked to the rising dead, and immediately got permission to enter the crypt and do whatever is necessary to ensure the safety of the people, including removing said artifact. Now Arthas and I are going to the crypt, and Jaz is getting the others to come without fear of being pegged as grave robbers. Speaking of others, I will describe them; a Drow (who is named Blank) whose talent is acquisition, a cartographer/map collector (who is named Archimedes Mercator) with a dizzying collection of things to help him, and a wood elf (named Daksy, I only know this from seeing her signature on the ledger) that smells of salt and has not spoken a word. A diverse set of skills, just what a team of the Radiant should be..."
He blew on the last few words to dry them off, put the quill in his mouth, stoppered the vial of ink, closed the journal, and repackaged it in its leather bundle, and then put away the vial and quill.
"The 1st Expedition; The Syphon of Ferwin
It began as most things do; a wish for money, glory, adventure, the fulfillment of debt, something personal, or all of the above. We assembled in Sir Weston's office, and signed our names to the task at hand; the retrieval of some artifact called the Syphon of Ferwin, in a town called Addler Stop. Supposedly it was buried with a noble. Myself and a kind fellow named Arthas Thomms (a priest of Mortomal, I think) paid for the carriage cab (60 miles, 18 silvers, 9 from myself, 9 from him) to this backwater town. There were rumors that something strange was happening there; ghouls and the like. We spent a good bit of time debating how to approach this, since we were effectively going in to rob graves. The answer was simple in my mind; regardless of whether we go in as heroes or as robbers, if disturbances of corpses, graves, and sarcophagi are discovered, we can blame it on undead regardless of whether they were there or not; a few corpses strewn throughout the crypt, covered in sword cuts would be enough to convince a few simple peasants, and we claim glory as heroes for clearing them out. Nonetheless the others took convincing, but it is essentially what we settled for. Arthas, myself, and the peculiar bequeathed gnome named Jaz (sharp of tongue as he is of wit) headed for town. A couple of villagers told us the rumors were not rumors. When we came to the mayor's mansion, he was telling the crowd they were panicking over rumors. When we talked to him in private, he told us they were not rumors and that he had seen the walking skeletons himself. This only made our jobs simpler; we were officially heroes come to rescue the town. We told him that a noble was buried with something that may be linked to the rising dead, and immediately got permission to enter the crypt and do whatever is necessary to ensure the safety of the people, including removing said artifact. Now Arthas and I are going to the crypt, and Jaz is getting the others to come without fear of being pegged as grave robbers. Speaking of others, I will describe them; a Drow (who is named Blank) whose talent is acquisition, a cartographer/map collector (who is named Archimedes Mercator) with a dizzying collection of things to help him, and a wood elf (named Daksy, I only know this from seeing her signature on the ledger) that smells of salt and has not spoken a word. A diverse set of skills, just what a team of the Radiant should be..."
He blew on the last few words to dry them off, put the quill in his mouth, stoppered the vial of ink, closed the journal, and repackaged it in its leather bundle, and then put away the vial and quill.