In a small town called Brass Wood on the edges of the newly formed nation of Uthiria, there was a tavern. This was like any other tavern. You had your barkeep cleaning glasses and surveying his bar and a relatively empty room. The morning light peeking through darkly covered windows and cutting across the floor from the open doorway. There were a few rough-looking stragglers scattered at tables from the night before. There was a small stage at one end of the room lit by candles and on it was a little halfling bard. He was playing to his heart's content on his saxophone caught up in the music. In the darkness surrounding him there were a handful of men here and there but a large half-orc collapsed in the corner. Like most bards, he was wearing a costume. His was a slightly comical one - a little lion costume no larger than a house cat due to his size. The odd thing was not just the lion costume but that these two individuals were connected. The bard and orc had come to town together only recently but the barkeep had allowed them to stay because the little halfling had brought in quite the crowd with his charisma and amazing performances. If he hadn't been so busy himself trying to keep order in the bar, he too would have been applauding. The real problem was his companion.
The half-orc was a drunken brawler. If that was the end of it then that would have been fine but it was his religion. For you see, he worshiped the Drunken God. Thank goodness he was only a monk otherwise he may have been better armed but even using his simple fists as weapons, he was able to create a considerable mess. The outcome of last night was evidence of that however, the halfling made up for the cost of damages and if he hadn't been a follower of the half-orc's peculiar religion then the barkeep would have had them both thrown out the night before. A very odd pair in deed.
On the other side of town, a devil slipped from the alley between merchant shops into the light. A tiefling - part human and part devil - cloaked and walking almost silently. One look at his attire one could see that this being had been a mercenary at one point in his life but since then had run upon some hard luck and was starting anew. He strolled across town avoiding contact and protecting his tail almost like a cat as he weaved through the crowds. His gait slowed until he stopped beneath the manor of the lord of the town. A large stone building - not a castle but impressive nonetheless. His eyes darting around the ramparts counting and watching and measuring the time between patrols. One guard noticed the rogue but followed its gaze when the tiefling quickly looked off to his left. Once the guard recognized it was nothing, he glanced back to only find that the cloaked figure was gone.
Entering the town gate on the northern side nearest the tavern was an elf, more specifically a ranger. Carrying both a longbow and swords, her movement had not just elvish grace but characteristics of a hunter. She was one that knew the woods and not only could survive in the wild but preferred it. She distanced herself from other travelers and guards. She liked the company of animals more than humans but short on supplies she came to town to take care of business and return again to the trees. It was a long hike so first on her list was to find food and shelter. She wanted to be prepared for later in case the unexpected happened. Looking at the different signs near the buildings, she decided to stop in at the tavern for some breakfast and information because none was better informed than the local barkeep. As she stepped in she took out a few coins from her purse and placed them on the counter which summoned the man to her side. He took her order and left with gold in his hand as she took a few moments to survey the room. A barmaid fluttered about like a mouse hunting for crumbs among the various guests taking orders and cleaning up after them. There was the half-orc still sleeping and a little lion still playing his saxophone at one end of the room, a pair of men with their drinks talking quietly at a table near the window, an off-duty guard at the other end of the bar, and another man moaning in pain collapsed in his chair leaning upon a table. Uninterested and unalarmed, she focused on the pressing matters that were going to take up her day.
At this point, the half-orc began to stir. He straightened up, picked up a chair and sat upon it. He looked around drunkenly searching for something then realized that a keg the size of a large child was beside him. He reached around the table to find an empty glass and tried to pour himself a drink from his barrel but to no avail. Clearly upset with his lack of success and impending hangover, he spotted a prize - a mug of fire whiskey on a table not far from him beside the moaning man. He reached over to take the drink ignoring that clearly this was not his and possibly even drunk enough to think that this heavenly liquid had been simply abandoned and chocked it up to his good fortune. This was not the case of course. In fact, the man below his outstretched arm had been recovering from an interaction with this beast from the night before and recognizing the smell began to turn around to confront the monk, spilling his drink onto the floor in the process. Perplexed but upset the half-orc struck the man knocking the wind out of him and dropping him. He reached down and recovered the glass. He wiped the bottom of the glass with one finger and licked the contents before looking around. No barmaid nor barkeep to be found.
The halfling had paused his beautiful song to watch this scene in admiration and realizing an opportunity to help his religious friend, leaped down from the stage to approach the other gentlemen talking quietly by the window. He approached them with what seemed to be all the swagger and confidence in this world that could possibly be afforded a halfling in a lion costume. He asked, "Did you enjoy the performance, my fine men? If so, might I ask for a small token of your appreciation? Your drink sir for my small friend..." as he beckoned to the half-orc that sat staring into his empty glass as if waiting for it to fill itself on its own. "Bugger off." The halfling's face darkened into an evil grin as if saying that he was happier, even justified in what he was about to do. He reached for the saxophone once again and began to play a tune. This harmony was not like the other songs he had played before. In fact, the elfish ranger stirred as she felt the magic mixed among the melody. She watched as one of the men went rigid. He suddenly stood as if he was a puppet on a string. The halfling had charmed him and the man unexpectedly began to disrobe. Before a moment had passed, she shockingly saw the man walk out the door of the bar and around the corner leaving the room the same way he entered the world - completely in the buff. The halfling snickered as the other man jumped up and raced out to rescue his enchanted friend. The halfling took the man's drink and strolled back to the half-orc as the elf listened intently only to hear screaming women and children and guards in the distance. The men were most likely being arrested for public indecency. Typical halfling. It was at this moment that she was startled to hear a small chuckle followed by a laugh come from a shadow and a chair near the door. A cloaked tiefling stepped out and walked across the room to talk to this pair. Here comes trouble, she thought as she once again brought her mind back to the tasks at hand.
The rogue swept his hand across the now empty table picking up the abandoned drink. He approached the halfling, "I think you forgot this my interesting little friend." The bard spun around upset from his surprise but quickly excited to realize his forgotten prize. Not only did he help his friend the monk but this glass was beyond the size of any glass he had ever gotten before! His eyes filled with mischief as he began to pour the golden liquid down his throat. "How long have you two been in town?" the tiefling asked. "Would you be interested in some fun? There would be gold for you and probably some mischief and a few fights as well?" The half-orc stirred and grunted his approval - still preoccupied with his newly acquired drink. He lifted the little bard off the ground to sit on his keg, leaning against his shoulder. "Great. Don't go anywhere my friends. I need some information before we leave..." The tiefling slowly turned scanning the room until he spotted the man still rolling in pain on the floor. "Ahhhh. Han Duo! What happened to you?" "Them. If these two are your friends, you could have at least warned me before you told me to meet you here last night." "You are my only friend, Han. I got detained last night with business. They are only newly acquired colleagues. But in regards to our meeting, I am looking for information about the lord of the manor in this town. What can you tell me about him? About his patrols? About the garrison?" He paused. Suddenly the language changed and they whispered something quickly for a few moments after which the injured man stood and left the bar. The off-duty guard had noticed the conversation and had been listening in until the rogue had switched to thieves cant - a language common but unique to criminals. He drummed his fingers quickly on the table. Clearly irritated about the interruption but intelligent enough to stop before he aroused too much attention, the rogue stood up and appeared to walk directly to the guard. Although off-duty, his fingers found the pommel of his sword easily enough under his uniform only to release it when tiefling passed by. He had approached the elf.
Sitting beside her he said, "Clearly I am not the only observant one in the room. My name is Shireling. What might your name be?" "What is it to you?" "It could be a lot of things. Business. Pleasure. A bit of both." The elf slapped away the devil's tail as he had tried to slip it up to caress her face. "Not interested." "But you haven't even given me a chance yet to explain." "Shireling huh. That is a stupid name. I am going to call you Shirley. My name is Temmie Temmerson. The big drunk one's name is Thokk." The halfling had climbed unnoticed, up on top of the counter next to them. The tiefling batted him away, focused on the elf, "We could use your keen eyes and your apparent skills. You are a tracker, aren't you? We could use someone skilled with a bow. There is a profit to be..." "Later." said the elf. Her eyes had darted to the guard now on edge at the other end of the counter.
The devil's eyes also narrowed. Acknowledging the guard, Shireling said, "Sir, you must be tired from the ruckus last night. My colleagues wanted me to apologize if there was any inconvenience." "None taken. It is a tavern. To be expected." Moving past the elf, the rogue readied a small hidden blade. "Any news for a passing traveler just making his way through town? I hate to miss anything." "I am sure you wouldn't," said the guard. This devil thought he was clever but he was clearly not as good at lying as he thought. "What do you do for the lord?" "I am a simple guard currently off-duty. I try to help keep the peace. How about you?" "Nothing important as that. Outcast really. If I was looking for work, maybe become a guard perhaps, how would I sign up? Is there a garrison in town?" "There is one near the manor." "How many men?" "I couldn't really say." "Oh well. Best fortunes for you then. Maybe we will cross paths again!" Both men relax their grips on their weapons as the guard stands up to leave the bar, finished with his drink. He clinks coins together on the bar and the barkeep passes by making them disappear as the guard leaves through the open doorway.
"What did that other man say to you?" The rogue turned back to the elf, "He is part of my criminal network. A contact for me really. He said that we ought to talk to a man named Frederick on the other side of town." Elves naturally don't trust tieflings. Not many races do. He brought forward a hand-drawn map like magic as he whispered, "Only sleight of hand my friend." He continued, "I plan to rob the lord of the manor. It is likely that Frederick has information for me. Care to join me for a walk this afternoon?" "What about us?" said Temmie. "You and Thikk..." "Thokk!" "You and Thokk should find some way to entertain yourselves. I feel like our friend the elf needs a little more convincing. We will meet back here later tonight to discuss things further." "No problem!" squeaked the little bard. As the three of them stood to leave, the half-orc waved them off and started to sleep again in the corner.
A few hours later, our little party is still making their way across town, talking as they go, "What is your name? You never gave me it to me before." "You are careless. That guard was listening to everything. He was clearly an officer from his tunic." "Well no one is listening now. What is your name?" "I am listening!" squeaked Temmie. Annoyed, Shireling repeats himself while the elf smirks responding to the halfing's outburst, "What is your name? It is hard to work with someone you don't know or trust." "I doubt I will ever have either of those things when it comes to you but my name is Xanaphina." Slightly confused and even a little uninterested he replies, "Alright. I apologize because I am not the best with names so I will call you X or Xena. Do you have a preference?" "Neither but if you have to then X will work." At this point, Temmie found the conversation boring. He lost pace with the other two and had become distracted with the crowds of people. He loved the chaotic nature of crowds. He ran beneath people as he investigated the carts, surprising animals and people alike. Crowds were an opportunity for him to not just entertain himself but to perform! He is not just a bard but had always been an entertainer and when there is crowds there was money and he was going to make some.
Back in the bar, Thokk woke up. The silence of the bar disturbed his slumber and since he had to wait for his tiny friend the halfling, he might as well put his skills to good use. After steadying himself for a moment and seeing the barkeep cleaning a glass again at the counter, he staggered over, "Fighting champions... Does your town have... Do you have a fighting pit? A fight club?" "I own the bar. We don't have any fight clubs." The half-orc growled in anger as he gripped the counter. "I don't want any more trouble. If there were such a thing, it would most likely be past the shops and down the street. You would be able to hear the gamblers outside if you paid attention." Thokk wiped his mouth and staggered back to his keg, pulling it onto his back and headed out the door and down the street.
By this time, Xanaphina and Shireling had just stopped near the lord's manor as they pretended to look at the map. "How many guards? Before, I counted maybe 8 on the walls and there are pairs patrolling the grounds as well that rotate every 5 minutes or so." "I count 3 pairs on patrol, 12 guards on the wall but you didn't mention the 6 on the gate." She is good, he thought. "Well, let's go and see what information Frederick has before it gets dark. We are likely only halfway there. Plus, it looks like some of the patrols are heading the other way. Something must be going on."
There was something going on. By this time, Temmie had finally made his way up on top of a stage near an opening in the center of the market. It was a perfect location. Finally, prepared to begin his performance he changed his costume in the middle of the market, pink bum shining in the late afternoon sun. In a flash, multiple things happened. First, the lion costume flew into the air spinning and landing artfully on the ground below the stage, leaving the hood with the mane opened perfectly like a hat ready to accept coins from the crowd. Then the tiny man spun around dramatically as the cape of his batman costume exposed the artful performer as he strummed a perfect chord across an exotic-looking guitar! People turned to watch as he continued to perform to the stunned crowd. He danced acrobatically on the stage, singing and playing the most captivating music ever imagined. The crowd grew and grew as the sun began to set. With the crowds came guards but like the night before, the halfling knew he had done nothing wrong! To the contrary, this was a challenge and he knew what he must do. He had to play as if the devils themselves had asked him what was the greatest song in the world and he would play that song. It was glorious.
There was another crowd gathering too but this time in private. Across town, the barkeep had been correct. The fighting ring was not hard to find, even for a drunken monk like Thokk. As most fights start, there were a few small warm up matches for amateurs and then the Champion would beat up a few small contenders to get the crowd excited. This created the best atmosphere for gambling. "Does anyone dare challenge our great undefeated Champion?" A belch roared from the back of the room in response. "I'll fight." Thokk had just arrived. The previous Champion was not like these puny humans. He too was a half-orc and a beast as well. Thokk climbed into the ring and saw that in terms of size this brawler may become a problem however, Thokk was the Drunken Monk and drunks are unusually resilient fighters. He knew he was going to be just fine as he began to offer a prayer to his god of alcohol and brawling. The burden of being drunk is you always felt like you were fighting more enemies than actually were there so he needed the God to guide his fists because he didn't know which of the "three" half-orcs he was seeing in the ring, he was actually going to be fighting.
"I can only count two. Bodyguards are across the street with clubs," the elf said. It was night but luckily she and Shireling have dark vision. "I count two figures inside as well," said the tiefling as he pointed towards the hut on the edge of the town. Xanaphina would not have seen him if she didn't know he was there. Having dark purple skin and black eyes makes it easy to disappear like a shade, not to mention the tiefling's cloak. "Let's check around the back." For rangers and rogues, this was second nature. Rogues typically choose to become either thieves or assassins if they don't go the way of magic given time. Rangers meanwhile will choose one of two traditional routes: hunter or beast master. Sneaking through the shadows to edge closer to their prey was easy for both of these practiced hunters. The biggest obstacle was the door.
The rogue focused on the lock. It was heavy and it was old but he had broken into places more heavily guarded than this before. Both companions were silent as they listened to the muffled conversation coming from inside and as he reached into his bag finding the lock pick he was looking for. CLANG! He was mistaken. It was not a pick at all. "Idiot." Ignoring the elf, he realized this was his hammer. He uses it when he fixes spikes with his rope to scale up high and difficult walls - part of his plan for the manor. "Get ready..." The lock clicks as he pulls back his tools and readies a dagger. He didn't want to deal with this but with amateur mistakes, you need to be prepared as well. He slips his hand around the door's edge and slowly pushes it inwards. RING! A trip wire and bell alarm the pair of people inside, followed by falling chairs and the rogue is pushed up against the door frame by a scarred old man with a dagger.
"Frederick I presume?" "Who the hell are you?" "Han Duo sent me for information concerning the lord of the manor." "About damn time. What took you so long?" The old man stabs the dagger deep into the door frame near the rogue's face. "Better to be careful than to be dead," replies the grinning tiefling. "What happened here then?" "I was distracted by my beautiful colleague. The elf is with me." "Come in then. And QUIETLY." He whistles and the two can see the shadows of the guards from across the street turn around and head back to their post. "Next time use the front door. It is why we pay them to be there." "As I said before, what can you tell me about the lord of the manor?" "Not so fast. I don't give away information for free. I have a problem that I need you to deal with first. You may need more people than just the pair of you." Xanaphina responds, "Tell us more about the job."
"In the forest, I have stashes that have been raided in the past by goblins. Normally I would deal with them myself but in my old age I have to be more careful as you can see." Frederick pulls out a map of the forest and points to a specific location and continues to provide details about a stash that he wants them to protect. "From what another huntsman has told me in town, by the number of tracks he has seen in the area, it should only be 3 or 4 goblins. Leave the stash alone and any information I have on the lord and the manor will be yours. Do we have a deal?" "Sounds easy enough. How much time do we have?" "I would say you have less than a week. The lord's son is returning from the war and there is going to be a large celebration in his honor in the town square with a feast with merchants coming from all over Uthiria. You will want to be back by then." "Alright. You have a deal." Hands are shaken and the pair are led to the front door. "Don't contact me again until after the goblins are dealt with. Understand?" With a short nod, the two disappear into the night and as they head back to the tavern, Shireling says, "We are going to need supplies and weapons now." "And a plan..."
Temmie stopped whistling long enough to finish packing up the gold he had made. 26 gold was not a bad take for one night's performance! He had been playing for hours and at one point the people were ready to leave and he had rallied for an encore. Eventually though he was asked to get off the stage. Or at least what he had thought was a stage. A homeless man called it his bed and only then did Temmie release that due to his size he had actually been playing on a park bench next to the fountain in the town square. Either way, it was a performance for the ages! Now he just had to find his way back to the tavern to show Thokk... Just my luck, he thought! He spotted the elf and tiefling from the tavern crossing the town square. "Shirley! Xena! Wait for me!" as he ran off into the darkness.
As they arrive at the bar, they hear cheers of "Thokk! Thokk! The new champion of Brass Wood!" Temmie scurries up to his half-orc companion and shows him his bag of gold. Thokk grins and shows him his own bag of 32 gold pieces and a large orc tooth trophy added to his keg. Apparently in the ring, Thokk had unexpectedly demolished the previous champion fighter. The champion was used to intimidating his opponents so he had prepped to give out a roar but was rudely interrupted by a strong kick to the groin. Thokk was a tavern brawler so as his opponent crumbled to the ground, he quickly rushed his disabled foe only to gouge his eyes with his thumbs. Swinging blindly the champion missed completely but quickly finds Thokk as he is spearing him into the ground. Enough is enough. The champion, fully enraged and disgraced by this dishonorable fighting style, throws Thokk off of him, stands fully erect and cries out in fury. But Thokk had fought his own kind before and had readied himself, dashing back to his opponent, he put all his weight into his fist and connected cleanly through the champ's chin with a full-force uppercut lifting him off the ground. Thokk walked over, knelt down, inspected and sized up the body and then almost surgically removed a large canine from the now defeated and unconscious orc's lower jaw. Temmie and Thokk reveled in their victories with drinks and food all around as they celebrated the successes of the night. Once they finished their reunion, the party went upstairs and shared the information from Frederick and decided to sleep on the information and gather supplies tomorrow before heading out to the goblins. And so our unexpected group of strangers became a chaotic party in search of their fortunes.
No comments:
Post a Comment