Journal Entry 18:03 Tars visits Falgrieg

As soon as Tars is settled in his quarters at Dame Imokan’s, he excuses himself for a few days from the rest of the group. He promises to be back before Mid-Revel starts.

His first action is to check the docks and see if he can find any word of the Sea Pronk or possibly his friend Rafe.

Approaching the office of the headmaster, he sees there is a new clerk in charge, a young halfling with a face full of pimples.

“What do you want?” the halfling inquires with a nasally voice. While annoying, it's obvious he is trying to be of help.

Tars asks, “Can you check to see if a ship of some size has been to port in the last few months?”

“Name and size?”

“The size would be galleon or larger. It is an orc vessel, goes by the name of Sea Pronk?” Tars replies.

“What the hell is a Sea Pronk? That some lewd orc thing?” The halfling is looking up at Tars, completely unafraid and trying to hold back a snicker at his joke.

Put off by this, more surprised than anything, Tars slowly growls a reply, “A pronk is what fast-moving animals like an antelope do. They jump high in the air. The ship, when at full sail, can seemingly leap out of the water as it jumps along the water’s surface.” Staring intently at the halfling who is just now starting to realize that Tars might be a little more capable of violence than most sailors, Tars then adds, “Have you anything on her in your records. Last I knew she was at port was back in Ja Gorahz, for repairs.”

Not making eye contact with Tars, he jumps off his human-sized chair. Making his way over to a larger journal on one of the back tables he starts going through it. “This here is the journals for all large seaworthy ships. If it is in red, that means it is an orc vessel.” After several minutes of closely reviewing the pages, the halfling quietly says, “Sorry, no mention of your ship after it last was repaired.”

Tars leaves a silver on the counter and walks out, saying nothing.

He hadn’t expected much unless Rafe had gotten into another major conflict again this close to Chrailis. Last time had been a nasty ambush where they had barely made it back to the Zygarosse. It had cost Rafe and the crew half of their earnings to get the ship towed all the way back to the Chrailis docks to be repaired. Still much cheaper than overhauling the ship or getting a new ship altogether. For as old as the vessel was, the Sea Pronk was still one of the fastest ships at sea.

Tars missed Rafe, but the orc had changed since their youth. He was no longer the honorable blood brother Tars remembered. He was now prone to vengeance, hating the Gore Reavers with a passion. It has been the alliance Rafe had worked up with some of the minor Flayed Serpent Clans which Tars was finally unable to stomach. There was a time when if a Gore Reaver ship or convey was captured, the slaves would have been freed. While Rafe didn’t put them to the death, he left them on crippled ships at sea to fend for themselves. Almost a death sentence. Rafe was more interested in hunting down the Gore Reavers and had Tars left with him, they would have been trying to punch deeper into the domain of the Gore Reavers.

Tars had also been surprised that Falgrieg chose to stay on the ship. “I am not done with the sea yet, I still feel I have a need and can help the orcs. Maybe I can mollify Rafe somewhat, as my mastery of elemental magics increases, my usefulness on the ship is increasing also.” After a quick hug, Falgrieg adds, “Plus, I still need to find a sharkskin duster in my size.”

They had said their goodbyes. Falgrieg had made one final request, however. “If you stay in Chrailis, can you check on my parents from time to time?” Tars had agreed. That had been nearly three months ago.

Finding no evidence of the Sea Pronk having been back to Chrailis, Tars feels it is a good time to honor Falgrieg’s request. It would take a good day’s ride by horse, but he should be able to make the Wineberry Stables by nightfall.

Making good time, he arrives and is greeting by Elienna Wineberry, Falgrieg’s mother. Having met her once before, he bows and says, “Greetings, Mother Wineberry. Falgrieg asked me a few months ago to check in on you and the rest of his family. Is all well?”

“More than well, actually. Let me get some of the stable hands to take care of your horse. Dinner is long past, but I can warm something up. We have good news for you, friend Tars,” she says smiling.

Tars sees two of the stable hands come out, both gnomes. He watches with curiosity, for the mismatch of the giant beast Tars rode in on and the small stature of the two gnomes makes the proper care of the horse doubtful. Then one of the stable hands starts chanting and Tars’s horse shrinks in size to smaller than a pony. “Harumph,” is all Tars grunts as he turns to walk inside following Elienna. He should have known.

Inside he sees Falnor getting around. He looks more hale than the last time Tars had seen him, of course, he had been poisoned then. Bowing again, Tars makes his introduction and restates the purpose of his visit.

“They ever figure out who poisoned you?” Tars asked.

“No, but Falgrieg has an idea he is pursuing. He’s back, by the way, been back almost a month and a half now,” Falnor adds.

Tars is overjoyed to hear his friend is back home safely after all. They tell him that Falgrieg is due back here at the stables sometime tomorrow morning. Tars sleeps in the stables that night, as there is no room for someone of his size.

The next morning, sure enough, Falgrieg has returned. Greeting each other, Tars notices that Falgrieg is missing a hand.

“Yeah, we got surrounded by Gore Reavers. Rafe was so intent on revenge that he allowed us to be led into a trap. Rafe and the Sea Pronk escaped, or so I understand, but close to five ships of the Crimson Blades were destroyed. I was captured.”

“Grim. What happened?” Tars asks.

Holding up his hand, Falgrieg smiles, “Knowing I was likely dinner, one of my captured shipmates gave me the opportunity to escape my shackles. Not the best thought out, but it was kind of heat of the moment. He had two of the other orcs hold me down while he bit through my wrist. If they hadn’t been so hasty about it, I probably would have just said to bite my thumb off. But they did my life.” He then holds out his duster, a gnome sizes sharkskin duster. “Soon as I hit the water, I transformed into a shark and swam for it.”

“It has taken me some time to learn to cast again one-handed, however, I am getting it down. Tried some priests, they said without the severed hand, not much that can be done. So I am getting by.”

They continue talking throughout the morning all the way to early afternoon. That’s when Falgrieg pipes up, “Hey, I want to show you something.”

Falgrieg summons and gets on Zanziel while Tars gets on his now size restored horse. They then start heading north at a good trot. “We are heading to the halfling lands, I believe you have been there before?”

Tars agrees. He had been there running shipments before he joined with Dame Imokan a year ago.

“After I got back, I invested some of my earnings in my parents business and started expanding it some into the halfling lands. We are now just starting to train riding dogs for a few of the nearby halflings villages. Their trainers have come down and shown us how they want the dogs trained so they are ready to take further training as war dogs. All in all, it should be beneficial to both them and my family.”

Tars takes this in and offers congratulations, then asks why the trip?

“Well, you remember our dreams from the banshee spider – gods that seems ages ago. Anyway, my dream was of me dying in front of two large crystalline doors,” Falgrieg pauses and looks over at Tars, “I found the doors.”

Traveling north for a few more hours, they approach what appears to be a wooden compound at the base of some rolling hills. “This is one of the halfling monasteries where they teach their martial arts. Toward the back of their main temple is a cave, and at the back of that cave are the two doors I dreamed about. Outsiders are not normally allowed to see them, however, when they heard I had dreamed the doors, they brought me into their holy area to look. Sure enough, it’s the same doors. Odd, hmm?”

They continue on into the compound where Tars sees about forty halflings in robes performing various menial tasks like farming and tending to the daily routines needed for survival in the compound. He also sees about another twenty halflings, divided into three groups, going through various martial art routines.

“Apparently, no one knows what is behind the doors. The halflings believe a legend that someday the gnolls will descend in force and wipe the halflings out. A prophecy of doom. These halflings are more dour than you orcs. However, they also believe that whatever lies behind these doors may just save them.”

Tars is now curious. “That why we are coming this way? So I can look at the doors.”

“No, I doubt they will let you near the doors. I want to show you what I have been doing with my time these last few months.”

Greeting several of the halflings, Falgrieg bows deeply. Seeing this, Tars tries to mimic the bow.

“Since I dreamed the doors, they felt that I might have some connection. So they have started to train me just the basics of their spiritual knowledge. Normally only a halfling is allowed to learn these things.”

They wander around the compound with Falgrieg making a few introductions. As it is getting late, they start to head back.

Tars asks, “You going to come into Chrailis for the Mid-Revel, everyone would love to see you.”

“I can’t, we got a shipment of ponies I need to get ready. We are leaving in two days. And at the same time, I am meeting a halfling with information about the poison used on my dad. I still haven’t let that rest.”

As they ride back, they start talking of the sea again. Falgrieg clarifies a few of the more current events for Tars. “You see, the Flayed Serpents have been really pushing into the Gore Reaver territory. It is all out war now. The Crimson Blades, who initially stayed neutral have been siding with the Flayed Serpents.”

“Why was Rafe so out for revenge. That he hates the Gore Reavers is no secret, but to be led into a full-on trap?”

“You remember Rafe’s two wives, the ones we met at that village of Irktrusc? Well, the Gore Reavers led a counter-raid on that village. They didn’t take slaves or anything, they slaughtered everyone there. And not easily, mind you. The orcs I knew wouldn’t even talk about it, that’s how bad it was. Rafe’s gone a little crazy, I fear, after that.”

Tars nods, feeling sorry for his friend. Rafe had at least six children by those two wives. “Why the increase in hostilities between the clans? I know they always clashed, but it was more for fun than anything, not full on annihilation of the other side.”

Falgrieg thinks for a moment. “Well, I have a theory. Do you remember the Harbinger problem the elves are having out west, I think a few of those instances may have happened in the orc territories also. And they are blaming each other rather than considering it might be an outside threat. The Gore Reavers, while the most violent, last I knew were being beaten back, almost all the way to the Citadel of Wails. Rumor had it, they were massing for a monstrous land invasion in the near future. Rather than fight on the water, they are going to go down the coast by land and kill everyone. Of course, once they get to Si’Nassa’s territory, they would be wise to turn back. Maybe yes, maybe not. I know I won’t be sad if they continue on to their doom. What I have seen of the Gore Reaver’s customs is not something fit for civilized folk.”

Tars broods most of the way back to the Wineberry Stables upon hearing the news. His heart wants him to go back out to see to Rafe’s side. Falling out be damned. He needs to be there by his blood brother. Finally, he says to no one, “Many think I am not the brightest, but I have picked up on a thing or two. The Harbinger’s are related to what I am currently doing with the party. I best serve by helping them, not be going out to sea. But when I finally do return to sea, those who oppose me will find an orc unlike any they have ever encountered before.”

Rather than be confused, Falgreig understands fully. “I believe you, friend, I believe you. If it wasn’t for the dreams of the crystal doors, I would be right there will you all. However, my path is leading me elsewhere right now. I am reminded of a saying I read about from a traveler from a far off land. ‘One Birth, One Death, Many Paths’”

Tars nods, “But all paths sometimes lead to the same destination.”

“Very wise, my friend, very wise.”

(Falgrieg is now roughly a 6th level summoner, 1st level investigator, 1st level monk. As he is learning the halfling style of martial arts, his attacks are at size medium.)