Trust No Weavers of the Dark Arts

The Gray Day

The day is cold and the world wet.  Pol awakens first, stretches and scouts hungrily amongthe packs for trail rations before sitting down to polish his shield and sword. He hums a tune to himself while he works.

Drusilla rises soon after, leaving the temple to scour the area for firewood. Wolfgar wakes in the meantime, and he too sets about caring for his gear. His whetstone hones the blade of his fine blade to a razor sharpness. Wolfgar looks up as Drusilla comes in with the firewood. "Do you want to go back to town, or head back to that pit?" he asks.

Recalling his dream and Drusilla’s vision, Kel muses, “You and I could use a day to recover from our battles. Perhaps we should help Drusilla find this other temple that she is supposed to restore.” Turning to her, he continues, “Do you have any idea where we should begin?”

“The lady instructs me all night in how to serve, but she cannot tell me where,” Drusilla says. She shakes her head. “Leave me a blade, and when you head into town, get some decent cooking equipment. I swear, you men would eat meat raw or merely warm your broth over a fire before you would consider cooking. And leave the boy, I want someone to talk to while you two are away. Firewood won’t be collecting itself.” Pol visibly deflates, but a look from Wolfgar and he sets his shield gingerly against the wall heads out to do his chores.

The two men bundle up the equipment they’ve taken, leaving the beasts’ tattered armor to be put to other uses. They have a bundle of swords and the giant axe, and together they set off towards town.

The forest is quiet on their walk, which is a slight bit longer than from the ruins themselves. The men walk without speaking, but there is a renewed bounce to their step. The long journey, the endless searching, the horrors of the pit, of the beastly men, and now they have Drusilla back. It is good knowing that all has not been for naught.

The town is as drab looking as the sky. Wolfgar heads to the inn where they stayed the night previously to retrieve his things from the room they rented for the week. Then the barbarians head for the smithy. Aesa, a stout, good-natured woman, wipes the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “I’d not thought to see you boys come back so soon or at all,” she says.

Kel grimaces as he responds, “You were nearly right about that. But return we have, and we have coin and trade with which to do business.”

Aesa looks over the knicked blades of scimitars and short swords, but it’s the big axe that catches her eye. “That is a biggun, by Vune. I didn’t know they were made so large.”

Kel asks her is she has any finely crafted weapons. “I like the look of your friend’s broadsword. The stuff I make and sell is sturdy, but it’s not art like that. I can do a lot better than the curved bit of scrap you got tucked in your belt, though.” She produces a cutlass, and offers it as straight trade for the lot of used equipment. Kel asks her for a bundle of arrows, and she hems and haws a bit, but offeres them as a part of the trade as well. Aesa asks Kel to try and get her better than scrap metal in the future.

Across town at the Sage’s house, the assistant claims that his master is resting and is not to be disturbed. He offers to take the tattered page and give it to the Master Sage when he awakens, if that would please the barbarians.

Kel reluctantly agrees to leave the parchment with the assistant, asking if the sage has made any further progress with the research that they commissioned.

“It has only been a few days. I doubt the Master’s letter has even arrived at its destination, let alone been answered. I will leave word at the tavern when there is news,” the assistant takes the page and shuts the door with a click.

The temple seems to shine, even in the dull light. They meet a young novice inside who doesn’t know anything of Glarias, but takes them to Father Tipple. The man is much different now than the last time they met him. He is sober and serious, and is seated behind a desk rifling through his papers. He looks up, and smiles warmly, “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

Kel lays out what he knows of Glarias, and asks if the priest can elaborate. “I know nothing of the name, but I’m not from here originally. Give me a few days to look through the records here in the temple and I’ll get back to you.”

They share a few minutes more together, Father Tipple mentioning how well their wounds are healing. On the street, the two barbarians head for the edge of town, and the woods beyond, before Wolfgar smacks his forehead, says, “Cooking gear!” The two turn about and head to the general goods store where Wolfgar buys two pots and a griddle for 6 silver. The duo then heads back into the wilderness, their needs in town satisfied.

Walking into the forest in the afternoon light brings Kel’s dream back to him. He shares the details with Wolfgar as they travel, asking him not to worry Drusilla or Pol with such evil portents. “It seems that I was too hasty when I said that these creatures’ gods had abandoned them. I fear that we have drawn the attention of a very powerful being. We cannot let our guard down.”

Wolfgar nods gravely at Kel’s ill portent. They walk silently through the forest, and the growing gloom of the evening. When they arrive at the temple grounds, they are welcomed by a warm fire and Drusilla’s admiration for her new cookware. Night tucks in close about the temple, but the impending doom that’s been pressing on Kel’s mind all day eases a bit as he and his friends tell stories about the fire.

Wolfgar insists on the first watch, and Pol the second. “I’m old enough to gather firewood and slay beasts – I can pull my weight in this as well,” he says with defiant thrust of his head. Wolfgar smiles, but nods seriously to the youth, says: “Of course, lad. Best get to sleep – you’ll need it for the morrow.”

 

 

Comments

Recalling his dream and Drusilla’s vision, Kel muses, “You and I could use a day to recover from our battles. Perhaps we should help Drusilla find this other temple that she is supposed to restore.” Turning to her, he continues, “Do you have any idea where we should begin?”

(If this is a terrible idea, we can go back to town instead.)

The Gray Day
 

(It’s not a terrible idea, however, by “restore” I mean something more than simple fixing up. As to whether you go to town or not, that’s up to you.)

The Gray Day
 

(The first step to restoring it would still be finding it, though, right? We’ll go back to town if Drusilla doesn’t have any ideas about where to start looking.)

The Gray Day
 

“The lady instructs me all night in her how to serve, but she cannot tell me where,” Drusilla says. She shakes her head. “Leave me a blade, and when you head into town, get some decent cooking equipment. I swear, you men would eat meat raw or merely warm your broth over a fire before you would consider cooking. And leave the boy, I want someone to talk to while you two are away. Firewood won’t be collecting itself.” Pol visibly deflates, but a look from Wolfgar and he sets his shield gingerly against the wall heads out to do his chores.

The two men bundle up the equipment they’ve taken, leaving the beasts’ tattered armor to be put to other uses. They have a bundle of swords and the giant axe, and together they set off towards town.

The forest is quiet on their walk, which is a slight bit longer than from the ruins themselves. The men walk without speaking, but there is a renewed bounce to their step. The long journey, the endless searching, the horrors of the pit, of the beastly men, and now they have Drusilla back. It is good knowing that all has not been for naught.

The town is as drab looking as the sky. Wolfgar heads to the inn where they stayed the night previously to retrieve his things from the room they rented for the week. Then the barbarians head for the smithy. Aesa, a stout, good-natured woman, wipes the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “I’d not thought to see you boys come back so soon or at all,” she says.

The Gray Day
 

Kel grimaces as he responds, “You were nearly right about that. But return we have, and we have coin and trade with which to do business.”

(Let’s sell the loot and buy arrows and whatever Wolfgar needs. If we have enough to afford a masterwork weapon and Aesa has any, I’ll take a look. After the smithy [or fletcher if she doesn’t carry arrows], we should drop by the sage’s place if only to give him the butler’s journal entry.)

The Gray Day
 

Aesa looks over the knicked blades of scimitars and short swords, but it’s the big axe that catches her eye. “That is a biggun, by Vune. I didn’t know they were made so large.”

Kel asks her is she has any finely crafted weapons. “I like the look of your friend’s broadsword. The stuff I make and sell is sturdy, but it’s not art like that. I can do a lot better than the curved bit of scrap you got tucked in your belt, though.” She produces a cutlass, and offers it as straight trade for the lot of used equipment. Kel asks her for a bundle of arrows, and she hems and haws a bit, but offeres them as a part of the trade as well. (Y/N?) Aesa asks Kel to try and get her better than scrap metal in the future.

Across town at the Sage’s house, the assistant claims that his master is resting and is not to be disturbed. He offers to take the tattered page and give it to the Master Sage when he awakens, if that would please the barbarians.

The Gray Day
 

(A cutlass? Arr, matey, Kel be a pirate now. I’ll take the deal.)

Kel reluctantly agrees to leave the parchment with the assistant, asking if the sage has made any further progress with the research that they commissioned.

(When we’re done here, I think our last stop should be the temple. We can ask if Glarias is an ally of Vune, a question that we probably should have asked last time we were here. If she is, the priests might be able to help Drusilla with her quest. Then, assuming there’s enough daylight left, we can return to camp.)

The Gray Day
 

“It has only been a few says. I doubt the Master’s letter has even arrived at its destination, let alone been answered. I will leave word at the tavern when there is news,” the assistant takes the page and shuts the door with a click.

The temple seems to shine, even in the dull light. They meet a young novice inside who doesn’t know anything of Glarias, but takes them to Father Tipple. The man is much different now than the last time they met him. He is sober and serious, and is seated behind a desk rifling through his papers. He looks up, and smiles warmly, “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

Kel lays out what he knows of Glarias, and asks if the priest can elaborate. “I know nothing of the name, but I’m not from here originally. Give me a few days to look through the records here in the temple and I’ll get back to you.”

They share a few minutes more together, Father Tipple mentioning how well their wounds are healing. On the street, the two barbarians head for the edge of town, and the woods beyond, before Wolfgar smacks his forehead, says, “Cooking gear!” The two turn about and head to the general goods store where Wolfgar buys two pots and a griddle for 6 silver. The duo then heads back into the wilderness, their needs in town satisfied.

(Right?)

The Gray Day
 

Walking into the forest in the afternoon light brings Kel’s dream back to him. He shares the details with Wolfgar as they travel, asking him not to worry Drusilla or Pol with such evil portents. “It seems that I was too hasty when I said that these creatures’ gods had abandoned them. I fear that we have drawn the attention of a very powerful being. We cannot let our guard down.”

The Gray Day
 

(Just so you know the group has a total of 19 silver. Kel has an additional 12 arrows and a new cutlass, and Wolfgar is sporting two pots and a pan.)

(Sorry these are getting sparse again – end of the semester is busy busy for the next few weeks. I’ll try to update sooner rather than later, though.)

The Gray Day
 

(The one thing that’s hard for me to keep track of in this format is money/equipment. Good thing it’s not my responsibility. Thanks for the update.

By the way, I’ve thought about your idea for an online component for Ptolus, and I’m just not comfortable with the break in continuity that would almost certainly result. I’m happy to run one of my many other campaign ideas in this format if you’re really itching to play, but I’m afraid the good professor will have to wait until the group can meet face to face.)

The Gray Day
 

Wolfgar nods gravely at Kel’s ill portent. They walk silently through the forest, and the growing gloom of the evening. When they arrive at the temple grounds, they are welcomed by a warm fire and Drusilla’s admiration for her new cookware. Night tucks in close about the temple, but the impending doom that’s been pressing on Kel’s mind all day eases a bit as he and his friends tell stories about the fire.

Wolfgar insists on the first watch, and Pol the second. “I’m old enough to gather firewood and slay beasts – I can pull my weight in this as well,” he says with defiant thrust of his head. Wolfgar smiles, but nods seriously to the youth, says: “Of course, lad. Best get to sleep – you’ll need it for the morrow.”

(If you’ve anything to add, please do – otherwise it’s time to set out yet again.)

The Gray Day
Jork

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