Chapter 5 Interlude: Arrivals, Preparations, Visions
Slapdash notes:
The Merry Hammers exit the temple, the cultists still below. They must figure out how to deal with them, and soon, before they suspect Ren's brilliant ruse.
Tension: What to do, and in what order. Cultists must be cleared out, characters need to rest, alchemy needs brewing, and weapons need distributing.
Events: Trent arrives, the Sorceresses arrive, and Velka recieves a side-quest from Thierea. The next time Ren Meditates, she is visted by the Angel of Razors, and is given her first lesson. Bonnie
Resolutions: Player decided, really.
Velka's acorn hums strongly as they reach the surface. "have you found your glade, moon-child?" "soon, child. Soon."
The players return to the keep just as the refugees from Trent are arriving. Olia is conversing with Dorokor, making introductions... in a... very Orcish way. The little Lady Aerona watches on with steady fascination.
The Merry Hammers exit the temple, the cultists still below. They must figure out how to deal with them, and soon, before they suspect Ren's brilliant ruse.
Tension: What to do, and in what order. Cultists must be cleared out, characters need to rest, alchemy needs brewing, and weapons need distributing.
Events: Trent arrives, the Sorceresses arrive, and Velka recieves a side-quest from Thierea. The next time Ren Meditates, she is visted by the Angel of Razors, and is given her first lesson. Bonnie
Resolutions: Player decided, really.
Velka's acorn hums strongly as they reach the surface. "have you found your glade, moon-child?" "soon, child. Soon."
The players return to the keep just as the refugees from Trent are arriving. Olia is conversing with Dorokor, making introductions... in a... very Orcish way. The little Lady Aerona watches on with steady fascination.
"I am Dorokor the Bonbreaker, Chief of Bloodtooth clan. It was I who slew Lord Komya, Commander of the Kyrgzan Cavalry of Tcherzoi, and by my blade alone that the Great Ogyama-wyrm Batzorig, Scourge of the Steppes, was felled. I have known victory in three-twelves battles. You are bloodchief of these... this... Town?"
Olia spares a quick glance at the fat and balding mayor Codric, hiding in the throng of wary villagers. "in times of war, yes. I am bloodchief of Trent."Dorokor snorts. "It is always times of war. Man's sight is just too short to see. " "Perhaps" "If you are bloodchief, speak your deeds, human, that I may know your worth." Olia closes her eyes. Takes a deep breath. "I am Lady Olia de Estriena, Scion of House Mori-pasaan, Constable of Trent. I have been dubbed as Kingslayer, The Sword of Aendric, and Eleanetar-scola, Lady of the Dooming Vow. I fought shoulder-to-shoulder with High King Gramm at the Battle of Trodea and in the Barenthi uprisings. With sword and shield I slew Blackmane, Manticore of the Eastern Gate. With a war-band of five, I stormed the palace of King Salmán IV and struck him down for failing his people, along with a score of his royal guard. The tiger-demon Fazadiin was banished by my blade that same night. I have lost count of my battles long ago. But my strength is in my people - not in the arm that holds my sword." Dorokors eyes narrow, then widen in respect. "you speak.. truth. Your eyes are like those of the Strife-Bearers." Olia nods. "Uroka-ahgat!" Dorokor holds out her hand. "Bahtahk-noor" Olia responds in Orcish, and grasps Dorokor by the forearm. They are stone still, tense for a long moment, before in a sudden explosion they move as one and violently headbutt eachother. They both reel from the blow, still clutching each-others forearm. The keep falls instantly silent- broken a moment later by Dorokor's hearty laugh. "I have learned much these past weeks of the mettle of Humans! Lok-ah! It is so! For now, we are as kin, Olia-Kingslayer." Olia laughs, and the orc embraces her. "Clan Bloodtooth! Behold the worth of This Tribe! Behold the steel of our Allies!" "Lok-Ah!" "Good! We eat! We Drink!"
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