Jump to content
aesome

Evil Lurks in the Bloodstone Marsh

Recommended Posts

Untouched by civilization for countless years, the Bloodstone Marsh continues on in wild existence. Unclaimed and unspoiled woods and waters stand to folly humankind and any other denizens of Valucre that come to seek the fortunes of the marsh. Monsters roam these vast areas, claiming the lives of any civilian who treads too far into the foreboding lands. Without question, the Bloodstone Marsh is a dangerous place.

It's been four months since some of the regents of Genesaris decided to pull up funds to gather experienced personnel to lay waste to these areas, trying to open up a better trade route between the prison city to the north and Mezthaluen to the south. It was more of an official recognition of the problems that were the Prison City, and finding an easier way to get to them and start fixing the hellhole it was becoming. One vassal of these regents, Sir Tolgrith, headed this task. Starting from the northern reaches of the prison city, to show a probable 'hope' to the citizens there, they established a small pass and created a temporary abode in Fort Thorn.

In the months since, Tolgrith and his men have toiled and worked well enough to minor success, but have reached out for extra assistance where it's been deemed necessary.

“Land, Gold, and Title!” Those are the things promised for taming the great swath of wilderness known as the Bloodstone Marsh, but so far, the journey there has been little more than hardship and boredom. As the miles rolled past, the company of merchants William found himself traveling with had grown steadily more subdued. There were whispers that the marsh was haunted or cursed. Not surprising really, coming from the other rumors of the lands of Genesaris that supplied plenty of lore and misfortune. The wagons stopped to take in the view before them. In the distance one could see the prison city to the north just barely visible beyond the lush green wilderness. Below spread a sea of leaves, broken only here and there by moss, water, and strange and erratic flora. Another twenty miles of travel, and a wooden fort broke through the forested canopy, with a thin wisp of smoke twisting through the air.

Crumpling up the handout that read the details of the excursion, William smirked as he walked into the encampment. His first stop was what they called their inn, the Boar's Bones. William needed a room to shackle up within during his stay here. Rumors scuttled about, nothing in regards to him of course, since he was unknown and just a foreseeable aid. One caught his ear though. People had begun to disappear. Ok, sure, that was a common thing that was talked about where the Marsh was concerned, but it was better than nothing. In fact, it was reasonably why people were being called from outside the regular work-bearers to assist. Like William himself. "Excuse me, I'd like a room, and could you tell me where Sir Tolgrith is?" Taking a leaning stance on the bar within the Boar's Bones, William pulled out some money and handed it to the barkeep, hoping that his search and stay wouldn't be too costly.

"Check the keep across the way. Big, stone. You can't miss it. Lodgings will be dealt with later, but I'll have a key for you when you come back tonight." Fort Thorn's keep was an imposing structure and one of the few stone buildings in the small outpost. It was reasonable that the man was probably over there, though William didn't surmise this as he was more keen on a bed he could secure when night fell. "Thank you," he responded with a tip before stepping back outside. The building in question was two stories tall, with few windows that were little more than arrow slits. A pair of guards standing in front of the portcullis protecting the main entrance took note of him as he approached casually. 

"Newcomer! You must be one of the adventurers come to answer the lord's call! Welcome! Please wait nearby until the rest arrive that are due today, please."

Edited by aesome

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Dearest Iselda

 

You have brought my son, Lothlorian, so much happiness these last few weeks, I feel terrible for having to do this. Unfortunately we must think first of the needs elf our people instead of the needs of the individual. News has reached me of an outpost out in Bloodstone Marsh, looking to perform an ambitious task of blazing a new trade route through the marsh instead of around it. As my dearest son is away dealing with the resettlement of land formerly operated by House Horbrace, it falls to you to head this mission and serve your House well.

 

I am aware of how much you wished to accompany my beloved son in this task, and how disappointed you were to be held back for other duties. My son misses you very much, as I am sure you miss him. Surely once both of you are finished with your tasks, the reunion will be ever the sweeter.

 

Your Exalted Leader, Gentle Breeze

 

Never has burning a piece of parchment felt so good to the wild elf. If he must do as he is asked by his Lady then so be it, but he refused to get caught up in her passive aggressive remarks. That infernal letter was absolutely dripping with her vile venom, taunting him with her barbed words of courtesy. Iselda always knew that wretched woman didn't approve of their relationship, and now she was trying to kill him off with this worthless mission.

Traveling into Bloodstone Marsh was always a difficulty in itself, mostly due to the invasive vegetation that grew in the area. Already it was clear the roads would require constant maintenance to remain accessible long term. That and along with the constant patrols needed to keep it safe from bandits or monsters kept bringing up more and more rising figures in the golden elf's mind. These humans were desperately hoping to turn this into a major highway of commerce and travel. Honestly it very well could be, if one were to pour enough gold into the project, and Iselda had been sent off to the backwoods fort to analyze just that.

Accompanying Iselda on this diplomatic mission were three additional elves and two Stone Warriors for added protection. While at first it seemed small, until one realized the elves in his retinue were experienced wizards of a high magical caliber, capable of tearing apart large swaths of this land in moments. That along with the added manpower of their animated stone statues, it was no surprise people were discouraged in getting too close to the group. Now if only Iselda was able to command that kind of respect from Gentle Breeze he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

Humans always looked so adorable in their little suits of armor atop their walls. Sometimes Iselda wondered just how they were able to withstand the heat in those things, but thought against asking. "A diplomatic envoy from House Aetherion, come to speak with Sir Tolgrith. Now let us in before I become vexed with your impudence."

Right away those gates opened, and the elves rode in on beautiful horses of snowy whites and earthy browns, headed straight for the Keep. From last he heard from Lothlorian, he was having his own issues getting into the walls of a human keep. Perhaps he should try berating them as Iselda did, just to see if it would work. If not then well, it never hurt just to be polite once in a while, if he could ever be asked to accomplish that little feat.

After a quick dismount from his horse, Iselda directed his group over to the Boar Bones for refreshments while he handled the main business. Messages should have reached the knight of his coming arrival, so it shouldn't require too much convincing to acquire access. Standing in his striking countenance of untamed golden locks, form fitting travel leathers and a smile that stunned men and women alike, Iselda made his appearance.

"Good morning to you gentleman." He said to both the guards and William, giving him a quick wink before continuing. "I believe I have an appointment with your leader. Do be so kind as to alert him of my presence if you could please?"

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Head still fuzzy from the night before, Toren rose from the filthy cot, worn leather coat and boots still on. Unknowingly exposed, he lulled along to the balcony and stood out taking in the city. Unfortunately, he still couldn't see five feet in front of him. After a wash he got his plates on, along with his axe, Mythrae.

Ducked along a short alley near the keep, he burnt his pipe and waited for the full group to form.

Edited by Toren Zhai

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Holding the edges of their cloak's hood down so as to cover their face, Alcys walked at a brisk pace toward the caravan of wagons in the distance. The last few days of travel had been a lesson in suffering, the drudgery of navigating through the pass created by Sir Tolgrith not at all assisted by the hastened pace of shadow-jumping. Alcys exhaled in a quiet sigh, reflecting on the past as they raised tired eyes toward the brightening sky. A roll of flyers, loosely bound together with hempen string, jostled half-heartedly in the youth's arms. 

The Bloodstone Marsh... Alcys shivered as the half of them that regretted the decision sowed discord with the half of them that pressed on in self-determination and despondence. The name itself was a blatant warning of the dangers inherent in such an undertaking, but the powerful, invisible necromantic presence Alcys felt within the Marsh made their nerves stand on end. Was it the profusion of dead that the Marsh had claimed... or was it something else? The hushed, apathetic dispositions of the merchants that Alcys passed as they stepped into the encampment answered little and opened even more questions, and the sneer of disgust that Alcys received from a passing soldier didn't help much either.

Fishing a worn, stained flyer out of the rolled sheaf of papers, Alcys read, then re-read the small, ornate text that lined it. The Boar's Head tavern was not a terribly large establishment, but its humble exterior belied the mellow warmth of the hearth and the reinvigorating hum of the fiddles inside. Before they entered, Alcys procured their wallet, spirits dropping as they heard the paltry jingle of a paucity of copper coins. Would this be enough to afford even the most meager food and water?

The moment of hesitance, however, offered Alcys some insight into the tavern's patrons. Two of them shone with a powerful magical aura, the likes of which were only seen in masters of the magical craft... and high-ranking military officials. Two others seemed to lack the souls that were present in all living beings, instead vibrating with the traces of some animating spell. Another soul, glowing with a kind of power wholly unlike the others, was walking towards the entrance, directly towards... them?

Alcys made the moment to step back too late as the the tavern door opened, and the adventurer making his egress bumped right into them. The sheaf of papers went everywhere across the floor, the hempen rope binding them having come unwound. "S... Sorry!" Alcys cried out, feeling their cheeks grow hot as they dropped to the floor, trying desperately to gather the sheets back into their arms. "I not... mean to hurt you..." 

As they struggled to phrase a response in a language they had little fluency in, Alcys glanced back up at the adventurer. He was olive-skinned and wore city-going clothes, but the beads that hung around his neck and the leather bracer spoke of a more mystical background. The man stood almost a head above Alcys' height, but his face indicated an age similar to their own. Alcys swallowed, hoping they had not made a serious offense.

Edited by azuranth

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Once again Krona had overestimated how long it would take her to reach Bloodstone Marsh. She'd spent the last few weeks flying there on the power of her own abilities, scaring locals and staying with a few caravans who agreed to take her further while she slept. But being able to fly - albeit at only the speed of a pigeon - meant Krona could avoid all the curves in the road and simply fix her eyes on her destination and move. Hence a journey of months was reduced to only several days.

Now she perched high in the rafters of the Boar's Bones' tavern, an incongruous sight, if only anyone bothered to look up. She lay sideways on a horizontal beam she had cleaned of dust earlier, one arm draped over the side, little fingers dangling down. Her black cloak draped down the other side and fluttered in the breeze made whenever the door was opened. Her voluptuously curvy body was wrapped in a flattering but practical attire, with high brown boots, black, tight leggings and a long-sleeved loose white tunic - the effect being to balance the curve of her generous hips and not draw too much attention to her chest. But she wasn't all softness. Along her belt dangled a row of diamond shaped daggers, oddly without a handle, that glittered with the red glow of the lanternlight below.

Being bored for a few days meant that she had probably enjoyed a little too much of the inn's more refined wines, though not so much she didn't notice the collision between the boy - was it a boy? - and a newcomer. Fliers flew from the boy-thing's fingers across the floor of the tavern as he apologised in broken speech.

Krona watched the face of the man in beads to make sure he wasn't going to be hostile, then wiggled her fingers - and the fliers around the boy-not-boy stirred, then she floated them back into his waiting hands.

She still didn't reveal herself just yet, waiting to see what would happen with a mischievous smile on her plump lips.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

A'rrazaah found himself in a strange new place. The wilds of... Somewhere. Where was he? He sniffed the air. Hmmm... There were creatures here. He could feel it. He groaned as he walked and saw signs of human residents. Mortals. What did they know of power? In any case, he cracked a bit of a smile. Humans are greedy, dirty, and rather stupid. They always want something. He smelled the air again, this time.. he smelled... What was it... Ah yes. The smell of desperate souls were in the air. He chuckled to himself. He found a sign saying where he was. 

Bloodstone Marsh? Now there is a name that catches my attention. He grinned to himself. In the distance he saw a tavern.. or maybe an inn. Whatever the case, he was ready to wreak havack once more. For 57 years he was trapped. Rebuilding his body atom by atom, as Trevor Wisegem tore him apart. Atom. By. Atom. 

He would pay in due time. For now he pushed the doors open to the tavern/inn looking building. He made sure he made a scene. His skin was a pale blue. He wore a severely torn red cape, demonic gauntlets, boots, and a shoulder piece that looked slightly intimidating. His eyes and hair are white, although he wore a hood. His shirt was mostly comprised of leather straps. His right gauntlet looked attached to his arm, like it was a part of him. 

He walked in, standing tall. He was proud of himself. He enjoyed the turning heads. He walked to the counter. 

"Tell me. Where can a man find... Excitement... Around here?" He spoke rather slowly and lightly. He sounded too proud of who he was. Who he was, no one knew.

Edited by Trevor Wisegem

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

"Sir Tolgrith should be coming down to greet you all in just a moment," one of the guards responded to the male elf that had made his presence very well known to the fort.

Feeling ushered towards the guards as they called out, William didn't look down and ended up rushing over a shorter individual that ended up sprawled and apologizing. Quizzically, he took a knee and assisted in helping clean up the little mess that was made. "Hey, sorry about that. You ok?" Before he could make an exchange of hands and papers, however, the crumpled sheets went back to the other's hands. Moving a few inches away, his expression changed to curiously confused mixed with a little bit of concern. "Maybe you are," he chuckled a moment after as he took his full gate and stood up again. "I'm William. Guess you're here for the same reason I am." Gesturing back at the guards, he started to make his way back to the entrance they guarded.

-

Within the Boar's Bones the encounter with the strange pale blue man was curt and forward, expected of the use of the place such as this. "Right across the way you should see at least a few other adventurers. Sir Tolgrith should be appearing shortly to brief everyone."

-

Coming out and into the open behind the two guards, a hale and rugged fighter, Gyrad Tolgrith was the seasoned campaigner by all appearances. Appearing lightly frustrated, there was alot on the man's mind as he looked around, first at the elf, then the human, and finally the androgynous red-skinned youth. Any others who were around he wasn't aware of. Maintaining an air of upbeat and cheeriness, he finally spoke up to get everyone's attention. "Greetings friends. I am glad to see that my call did not go unheeded." There was a light question to his voice, seeing as only three people were present. Perhaps it was disappointment, knowing that the setbacks he'd been facing trying to get through the marsh were ever-constant and liked to remind him that this was a little too difficult of a task to take on. Yet he persevered. "Welcome to the Bloodstone Marsh! I am Gyrad Tolgrith, the lord of this marsh. I have been charged with clearing the way through these lands. I hope you can help me accomplish this."

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

A'rrazaah walked over to this man who spoke. He leaned on the wall and started flicking his lighter open and closing it. It was a habit he got into. More of a thing he needed to do now. He listened as Tolgrith said what he needed to. He spoke with so much desperation. NEEDING others to help with HIS problem. Pathetic. But, he was only mortal. And human. When he was done speaking, A'rrazaah spoke his mind.

"Tell me, sir Tolgrith, what exactly do you need help with? Better yet, what would be gained from helping you in this task? Nothing is free after all." 

He spoke slowly. It was almost unnerving the way he spoke, but he showed interest in this problem Tolgrith had.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

"Hello there, Sir Torgrith. I am Iselda Nudarim, of House Aetherion. From what we've heard of your little problem we understand that our efforts could be of great help. All we ask in return for our efforts is the right, no, no, the privilege, of maintaining this little trade route you are developing. Who better to keep the weeds from becoming unruly than an elf, eh?" There were a few laughs from some of the patrons, which Iselda appreciated a good deal. Jokes seemed difficult to come by in this neck of the woods, judging by how somber and depressing everything appeared.

Obtaining the rights to maintain the trade route meant they could then piggyback off that privilege to be able to demand a toll for passage through on both sides. Considering the amount of time one would save using such a route, most people wouldn't care about paying a silly little fine to get through if it meant faster profits. Honestly he wondered a little about why House Aetherion didn't do this first, but at the very least they could obtain some pseudo-control over the roads by claiming the right to keep it in shape. Nobody has to die and House Aetherion gets to cash in on the influx of traders coming through, a win if he ever knew one.

There was the slightest hitch of whether or not the knight would accept the deal or not, given how many people were in attendance for the mission itself. Of course how would anyone not see this as a great deal at first glance? All the glory of conquering the wilds of the marsh were theirs for the taking, and then they wouldn't even have to make the struggle of keeping it functional all on their own. Humans across the board have some deep seeded desire for fame, even doubly so when they have a Sir in their name.

"What can we do for your little problem?" Iselda asked, smiling as though it were a simple problem indeed. "Under my command are a few powerful wizards and some golems who are built for dealing with anything nasty we may come across. If it's anyone you want solving your problem, it's going to be my people."

No offense to the other delightfully strange looking characters in the establishment, but Iselda was acutely aware of their...inequalities to his own people. While it would be fun to fraternize and get to know a few of these people, being the social creature that he was, he needed to be done with this as quickly as possibly. Once he was finished here he could reunite himself with Lothlorian and have a talk with him about how his mother treats who is supposedly his mate. It was high time someone put that insufferable woman down a peg or two.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

What a bad-luck day, Alcys thought dejectedly as they scrambled across the ground, desperately trying to gather the scattered papers before the contents of those pages were deciphered by passerby. The youth groaned as their papers were suddenly blown about by an unexpected wind... then stopped in surprise as the papers suddenly formed a neat little stack and settled into their arms, as if compelled to do so. Glancing upward at the source of the supernatural flare of power, Alcys found a buxom woman clad in... lightweight protections, perched on the rafters so as to just be in sight. An aeromancer? No... Alcys thought, glancing at the row of wickedly sharp crystalline daggers adorning her belt. She was smiling, and the necromancer smiled back uneasily, nodding briefly and hoping that would communicate their thanks.

"Hey, sorry about that. You okay?" These words jolted Alcys back to the present as their attention snapped back to the concerned man in front of them. Blushing a lighter shade of red, the necromancer attempted to apologize for their rashness, but the stream of words that ensued could barely be understood. "Kvari–uh, I mean... I do not mean to disturb, er, your goodliness–no, wait..." As they searched for the right word, the realization had come to Alcys that they had forgotten the most important word. "Um... Sorry. And, it's okay..." Alcys made to smooth out the part of the individual's shirt that had gotten tussled due to their collision, before realizing that would probably be seen as extremely untoward, and stepping back sheepishly. 

"Guess you're here for the same reason I am," William said as he chuckled amiably. Alcys was impressed. How was he able to deduce that much based on the brief moment that the papers were on the floor? Perhaps it was a unique capability of monks, or perhaps sorcerers? It was impossible to tell exactly what school a mage practiced from sight alone, but Alcys was immediately jealous. I'd definitely take super-reading over this stupid soul magnet I'm stuck with, they thought as a new presence registered itself in their senses.

The new arrival was Gyrad Tolgrith, the trailblazing knight himself, and he spoke in a cheery tone that did little to mask his weariness. Alcys winced slightly at hearing the dejected baritone, looking to find the paucity of adventurers that composed the forward team. Just the aeromancer woman settled in the rafters, watching from above; Alcys themself, carrying little but a stack of parchments; William, the monastic-seeming young man they had bumped into; A man clad in plate armor who had emerged from a side-alley, startling Alcys with his intimidating-looking axe; the noble known as Iselda Nudarim, whose entire retinue shone with amazing magical power; and finally, an unknown individual whose profoundly... demonic... presence set Alcys' hairs on end. These adventurers all appeared highly capable and prepared for the ordeal ahead... Alcys was starting to understand that this was no place for them.

No! they thought, stepping forward spontaneously before they could restrain their frayed nerves. I still have something to offer! "Er... Tolgrith...n-no, Sir Tolgrith, I think this will be useful!" Alcys blurted out, crossing the distance with a few sudden, excited bounds and shoving the stack of papers in the knight's direction. The sheets contained detailed notes on all manner of necromantic beasts, painstakingly written in reasonably legible print with the help of a Genesarian dictionary. "There's something in the Marsh, so, er, this might be useful," the youth repeated, shyness reverting their voice to an ashamed mumble.

Edited by azuranth

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

"Lord of the swamp? There's an enviable title." Wine glass in hand, Krona sat up in the rafters and floated down until she was only a few inches above the ground, putting her head at a height level with the tallest of the group – being able to float and fly had the advantage of improving her stature.

“I s’pose we better get down to business,” she said, her voice gruff and flat, sounding more confident and world-weary than her youthful looks would otherwise imply. She gave Iselda a sideways glance, already distrustful of her ambition and beauty and golden-haired cheerfulness. In response to Iselda’s babbling about trade routes she said, “How much are we getting paid, and when, and what are the terms of our payment?

“Oh… and what do you want us to do anyway? Is it monster-killing or do you want us to build you a road? I’m good at moving rocks, if that helps.” She let go of her wine glass and flicked back a curl of long black hair – the wine glass remained in the air where she let it go until she grabbed it again. “Dredging swamps? Pro’ly not so good.”

She reached forward and pulled the sheets of papers into her own hand before Sir Swamp could take them himself, then floated away and started rifling through them herself, nodding in approval.

Edited by Venus Sprite

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Valkyr had remained at the tavern a few moments longer than the rest of the group. He had briefly spoken to Sir Tolgrith prior, only through correspondence however. In terms of physically clearing a road, he was limited. One man against the entire swamp was a losing battle. However, an expedition, properly outfitted with manpower and tools could do nicely. But as with all expeditions into the wild, the wildlife was unknown and well, wild.

He had inquired about offering his services as a hunter, tracker, and survivalist to go along with the group, however large or small. The reply he received was minimal, but sufficient, provided it even came from the pen of Tolgrith. He arrived at the appointed day, though the group did seem a slight smaller than he would have imagined for such a task. He had delayed long enough. Downing his glass of whiskey, he reached for a long leather sheath resting against the table and made for the tavern's door.

The sunlight highlighted his brilliant white hair, and rolled over the flowing fabric of his khaki duster. An exotic pattern in white spread across the whole of the garment. Brown eyes came to rest upon the backs of the group gathered before him. He could only assume the larger figure at their center was that of Tolgrith. A boyish smirk played over his lips as he rested the leather bound item over his shoulder.

His ears had perked at the sound of business and compensation. The rather curvy woman hovering in the group seemed to have the right mind about her. "Aye, m'lord. What sort of task are you expecting of us, and what pray tell, might our compensation be for such a task. The letter I received was somewhat vague to that end."

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

While the others are busy discussing, Tedimius, commonly known as Black Teddy or just plain Teddy, was silently rifling through the pages provided by Sir Tolgroth's knight and feeling extremely uncomfortable in her clothing. As part of the Black Head's inner circle in the cartel, Teddy should not have been here but rather in her room aboard the sip "Witchcraft" enjoying a life of leisure and self-indulgence. Unfortunately for her, the cartel's operations are currently overstretched and most of its newer recruits are already overworked with little to no rest between jobs forcing the older members to pick up the slack. This is why Teddy is stuck here in this disgusting land forced to join a disgusting expedition to an uncharted and probably even more disgusting land wearing this disgusting piece of clothing. As it was required by the cartel, all personnel in active duty should be in full uniform, which translates to constantly wear the hot and stuffy black leather long coats with the cartel's silly insignia stitched at the back. Apparently, back then the Black Head thought it was a good idea for advertising their organization and right now Teddy is suffering the consequences of her boss' whims.

Despite opting to wear almost nothing underneath except for her small clothes, Teddy is still feeling the heat induced by the fabric's clothing. Having already committed to memory the papers' contents, she proceeded to fold a few into paper fans to use while the rest she used to wipe off the forming perspiration on her skin. Hoping to hasten her sweaty ordeal, she urged the conversation further.

"Please, Sir Tolgroth. Do tell us the details for this stint in as few words as possible. I fear I may die of fatigue before this discussion is over." 

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Seeing that the majority was in favor of knowing their tasks at hand, Sir Tolgrith started there. "The path itself has fallen behind schedule as the monsters dwelling in the swamp constantly harry the workers. We have only been given two months to complete the trading route. Fortunately, these marauding beasts have so far only killed a few workers, and progress on the road continues despite these losses. Recently, however, a new threat has appeared. Two days ago, a work crew failed to return to the fort. I sent my own scouts out after assuring all of the others had returned to camp, and the scouts have just returned this morning. The missing crew's camp was found. In disarray. All eight men dead or missing. Pierced with arrows. Nothing was taken off the bodies in terms of equipment or anything like that, but each was peculiarly missing an ear. I don't find this to be simple mutilation, so I want your professional abilities to take to the marsh and investigate. If you can find the butchers, I want them ended, and for you to report immediately back to me."

"As for payment, I am a man of my word. Any who help me tame this place will earn land, title, and gold. My lords have given me leave to knight those who help me and to give them land here in the outskirts of the marsh, away from the dangers of it. The gold will come from a tax levied on the merchants using this trail. To put it simply, the safer you make this marsh, the more richly we'll all be rewarded. Your basic room and board will be provided while you are in my employ, so do not fret about cost of living here for the time. And, any spoils you recover during your adventures are yours to keep."

By his words, this meant that the higher officials already took control of the expedition in full and planned to exploit the trail upon its completion. Sir Tolgrith himself couldn't stop that, so while his words were flat, he meant to ill harm towards the elves who wanted to acquire the trail for their own financial benefit. And his bargain meant that he wasn't hiring necessarily one person or another, but rather than anyone who heeded the call was already considered to be under his direct employ until the two months' time was up. He wouldn't just be using the elves, or anything like that. But rather, everyone in attendance was now free to assist or leave at their own discretion.

"Just a few questions that no one here has asked yet," William perked up. "First, where did the attacks occur? Were the men not armed? And is there anything else we should know?"

"About eight miles from here, just off one of the finished parts of the trail. I can give you a simple map. Two of the eight workers were my actual soldiers. The scouts reported that it looked like a fight was put up, but there were no bodies otherwise to be found. And now that you mention it, there is one other thing. The people of this community do not yet know what happened to that crew. I ask for you discretion in the matter until it is resolved.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Raz looked into the flame of his lighter as Tolgrith spoke. It helped him focus. After all, gotta keep the flame of knowledge lit.

Pshh. Land. Gold. All this was uneeded to A'rrazaah. But then he heard something. The ability to be knighted. Oh yes, this is what made him smile. Being knighted meant he was close to power, something Raz couldn't get enough of. He closed his lighter, then suddenly appeared directly in front of Tolgrith.

"Sounds to me like you need help tracking and killing someone or something. Something I'd be more than happy to do, Sir!" Raz shook Tolgrith's hand. "A'rrazaah, and it is such a pleasure to be able to help you on this mission." 

He sounded genuinely sincere, though he spoke slow and kind of creepily, there was only a tiny bit of what he said that could make someone nervous, if they were clever enough to see it. Raz had gotten good at hiding his plans from others. But did he plan to help? This was 100% true. Maybe not THE WHOLE truth, but he was going to help with the problem.

Edited by Trevor Wisegem

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

×
×
  • Create New...