Green Squadron Day One Opening Ah, the road is long and hard, but finally I reach Daggorford. A small community with a small keep nestled against the Delimbyr River. It is the last decent town on the last leg of the road to Waterdeep. Only another 150 miles to go, but though I see the crossing bridge before me the inn just before it beckons me enter. I see by the sun that it is about four hours past the mid of day, and how much further could I go this evening, if I were willing that is? I am only a weaver of tales and not much used to exercise of this sort. No, the doors of The Silver Ladle swing gently open at my touch, and even as my weary feet hit the threshold, the bearded bartender grins my way. His hands deftly grab a mug and as he fills it with a dark amber ale, he calls out in a friendly tone, "Ho, stranger, and well met! First one's on the house, friend." My feet seem to dance to the bar, and even as I take a deep draught, he continues, "I am Kyle, son of Tabek. Who might you be? Which way do your travels take you?" I answer softly, though most of the answers are not vital, and only pass the time until another traveller, weary of the road as are we all, enters and Kyle, son of Tabek, goes to serve and greet them. The only true information I have, is of the caravan a mile away to the south. It is making it's way here, though slowly, as one of the wagon wheels is sorely damaged and in need of a smith. This information earns me a quick refill, of which I was much in need. Shortly, I am in need of one more ale, this one to sip at my leisure. After being served, I turn and take a chair at a large round table with it's center cut out, that lies in the midst of the room. Jutting forth from it's center is an outcropping of rock. It is a fire pit, though as yet the logs have not been lit, for it was a warm enough day eventhough it is still Tarsakh of the Storms,(thank the gods it has not stormed these last few days). This is obviously the common table, while along the sides there are a few tables with booths for dining or discussions of a more private nature. As I sit, I peruse the other traveller's who have entered and taken a place at this magnificent treasure of a table. (Dunz Kann) In walks an imposing figure in chain mail with a shield held proudly in his hand. On the shield is the symbol of Tyr, the even-handed. The balanced scales of Justice in bright red. He sits near me, straight and tall, though he speaks not a word of greeting. (Fynvola Quain & Zantorax Nightwind) Then in walks an interesting couple. She with unruly red-gold hair, ivory skin and dancing azure eyes and he with fiery eyes and shaved head. Together they are dressed fancily, she with ruffled silk shirts and even he is wearing a blue shirt (a terribly hard color to find or afford, at least for a man). Women it seem are spared this high pricing. And in her hands a clarsach(a small harp from a distant land), a very unique instrument. I wonder would she allow me to try my hand. (Jeremiah) Following these two, gracefully enters a fair looking man. He wears a yellow and red cloak and hanging from a chain is the multi- colored disk of Lathandar, the MorningLord. He is an impressive sight and sits along with these others full of grace. (Malic Daggerfall) And then walks in a slick looking youth with dark as night black hair and bright green eyes. He slides swiftly to the other side of me and lounges casually in his chair. (Shiro Minamoto) Things settle down a bit then all eyes turn to see a newcomer. He is of medium build with obsidian black hair and bluegreen slender eyes. It is like looking in the Sea of Swords to hold his gaze. His hair is worn in a top knot and though all eyes are on him, he moves swiftly and easily to the bar and asks for sake, a drink that I have only heard of in distant lands, and yet Kyle takes but a few seconds to deliver. And even as I look at them as a whole, I get a peculiar twinge in my gut that things are moving in the realms and these beings will somehow be a part and parcel to it all. Yes, it seems these six will be a group to behold, and perhaps I shall do just that. What else would a simple storyteller do? Turn #1 21st of Tarsakh of the Storms Each of you finds yourself seated at the common table as half an hour later, the door crashes open and in comes a large built human bearing a scar from forehead to cheek, intersecting the left eye, which he does not even bother to patch over. At his belt are worn a dagger on one side, and dangling on the right is a coiled whip. His eyes scan the room haughtily and centering on the round table where you are seated, he scornfully says, "My boss is looking for a few caravan guards, though there's not a decent guard among you. None of you look like you ever knew the meaning of hardwork. Worthless, mangy, whoreson's the lot of you. Well, who want's the..." Even while your attention is focused on him, through the door comes a youth, his neck and face an awful crimson hue that rises above his worn leathers. He is not tall, nor heavily weighted, but without even hearing him speak, he draws your attention, with his bright emerald eyes(though now, they flame nearly red), and his strong, bold chin. When he does, speak it is soft, the obvious anger held in check, and just barely loud enough for you to hear him. "Ever since Baldur's Gate, you have been trouble. This is the last straw. Get your stuff. Get out of here!" It is short and clipped, but the scarred man blanches as he faces the manchild. After a few seconds, the youth turns his back and steps toward the table. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle and with just a slight quiver, does his anger still show through. "My apologies to you all. Allow me to buy you a round of Tabek's Red." As the youth motions to the barkeep, you watch as the older man's hands twitch once, twice, and his face visibly hardens. He reaches for the whip, and in a flash it is loose and uncoiled, it's tip lying on the floor behind him. Malic Daggerfall (looking at the man) I wouldn't do that if I were you. (looking at the lad) For what reason would you have to whip a child so severly. For what I can see he has done nothing wrong. Fynvola Quain >Turn #1 21st of Tarsakh of the Storms Fynvola stands and bows her head but retains eye-contact with the youngster, "No need for that, good sir! Though your former companion could use a lesson in manners." She looks past the young man and directs her next words at the ruffian, "You will find out just how unschooled some of us may or may not be unless you stop your cowardly attack this instant..." as her hand slips to her ornate short sword, though she doesn't draw it just yet. Jeremiah Standing and moving smoothly forward, Jeremiah walks ahead and to the side of the confrontation. Drawing the attention of the man with the whip he holds the man's gaze as he moves to the side. Holding his hands by his waist, he quietly watches the events unfold. Dunz Kann "Hey barkeep! How about a free round on the house for the stranger?" , the large man in chain hails Kyle while casually rising from his seat. "After all, here is a man who has obviously worked hard all day and could use a cold drink.", he continues while his right hand pulls back his hood, exposing bright blue eyes and a friendly grin, and his left hand offers the tankard as he stops short. "It is better to settle one's differences over a drink rather than at the end of a whip, would not you agree friend?" His right hand, never far from his sword's hilt, having slid the large blade free a few inches for his benefit. Zantorax Nightwind Seeing the commotion, I stand, grabbing my staff, and move between the young man and his former guard. "Now, what are you planning to do with that?" I ask the brigand... Shiro Minamoto I stay seated sipping my sake while watching all that is going on. A wise warrior waits for the tiger to move then becomes like water before the claws. Turn #2 STORYTELLER I sit still hoping this trouble passes by. As I said before, I am a storyteller, not a fighter. And luckily there are others who come to the emerald eyed youth's rescue. Though there is not much anger present in their responses, some quickly step forward interposing themselves between the scarred one and his former employer. The blond haired lad turns with a grin as he watches the scarred one, a glare in his eyes, rethinks the situation. He snarls at Dunz's friendly offer, "I want no ale to share with the likes of you." You all watch as he cracks the whip against the floor, though none of you think much of the display and Darrin's laughter at his former hand is infectious as the scarred one backs out the door, his eyes catching each of you in the glare, as though he seeks to memorize your every feature. The lad calls out quickly, "Kyle, Tabek's for all my new friends" He turns to Fynvola, even as he claps a friendly hand on Dunz's shoulder, "And yes, it is necessary for me to buy a round. Especially to make up for his bad manners and now doubly so to express my gratitude." His emerald eyes twinkle in merriment and he bows to all with a flourish of his arm, "Well met, friends. I am Darrin." Storyteller continued... With that, Darrin motions for another round for all, and as the bartender, Kyle, begins to set mugs and glasses in front of each of us, even I your humble teller of tales, Darrin states that he is impressed with them all and could use their assistance. He says Waterdeep is but six days away and he is need of more guards for his wagons. The terms of agreement: 30 golden lions for each upon arrival at Waterdeep. free entry to Waterdeep(at festival time this can cost up to two silver falcons at the gate) Darrin will also be glad to help everyone pick out an inn and if it is one which he frequents, he promises to help get a good rate. If they are for some reason attacked before Waterdeep, the group can split all the loot, for he is only concerned with his cargo. Even as he speaks, Darrin's eyes keep going back to Fynvola. It is obvious from his trailing voice, that he is enamoured of her. Then the door swings open again, and a woman of brilliant yellow hair enters, lifting the hem of her black gown over the threshold. Her musical voice calls out Darrin's name, breaking his reverie. He stands, a startled look on his features, and with a call to the bartender to set each of you up with dinner, he takes her arm and like a proper gentleman leads her up the stairs. He pauses only to glance back and say, I will be right back, please consider my offer." After a short time Kyle brings you steaming platters of food and more drink and says knowingly, "What a lad that Darrin is, eh?" Green turn #3 Dunz Kann "I am from Waterdeep and will accept his offer as I wish to get back home for the festival." The big man, or in actuality the man-child, returns to his seat in a slightly bemused state. He happily accepts the food and greedily eats it all, pausing at times to consider something ... "A wise warrior waits for the tiger to move then becomes like water before the claws." ... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! ... Huh? ... Fynvola Fynvola smiles a friendly smile at Darrin, moving back to her seat near Zantorax. "Seems a fair enough exchange to me," she smiles once more at their new employer and surreptuously looks over at Zantorax for his reaction to the proposal. Though Fynvola visibly relaxes when Darrin leaves with the golden-haired girl, her eyes dance with mischief and she *is* clearly flattered by Darrin's apparent interest. Malic Daggerfall (while eating food) I to would like to see this festival mates. (I take a gulp and then slap the mug on the table) and about this guard business, It wouldn't be so bad to watch some wagons for a while. Besides anything would be better than being on a ship right now, says I. Shiro Minamoto " Arigato Darrin - san. A most gracious offer. " I partake of the meal while studying those around me especially the one who calls himself Zantorax. Jeremiah "I too journey to WaterDeep and would find service to young Darrin acceptable." "Hail hostler, who was the woman with the yellow hair, whom Darrin attends to so swiftly?" Zantorax Nightwind Not at all impressed with the young man before me, I nonetheless nod my head. "I will accept your offer, but be warned, that's my betrothed you're drooling over." I then look at Fynvola and let out a deep belly-laugh befitting my size... Fynvola Fynvola smiles coquettishly at Zantorax and winks at him, then turns her attentions back to the group. Bartender Kyle, son of Tabek As Darrin seemingly ignores your questions as he escorts the blond woman upstairs, the bartender calls out to the company..."Hear now, hear now. I can be of assistance. I've known Darrin since he was a little tyke traveling this very trade route with his father Anders Miyar. Who? That's Zorl Miyar's brother that is." Quite a few blank faces look at the bearded barkeep, and throwing his hands in the air, he continues, his voice tinged with exasperation, "Who is Zorl Miyar? How can you not know? True the trading has been hard these past two years what with the bloodshed at Dragonspear Castle, but this is dire indeed. He heads the merchant's guild out of Baldur's Gate. How true the rumors then? It has been said that with the recent competition, the League has serious monetary problems. This makes the first trade caravan of the season so important then. "As for the lad, when his father, gods receive him well, passed on nearly five years ago, Darrin approached his uncle and convinced him that he could move the cargo safely along this trade route. And he does. There is likely not to be any trouble, 'tween here and Waterdeep. "Now the fair-haired lady, I know naught of her, though doesn't mean that I shant fore the evenin' is gone. But I would clearly say that she isn't the type to take hold of that lad's heart. "Cargo. Well, the League is said to deliver whatever the customer has a desire for, as long as it isn't illegal, though there isn't much will fall under that category anyway. From here they always take some of the ale to Waterdeep to sell at festival, and then on the way back they take more home for some of the inns and taverns in Baldur's Gate. Spices, knickknacks, rare beasties at times. And like I said, if a customer has a special order, The Merchant League will find and deliver it, for a price... He stops speaking all of a sudden and cups his ear with his hand. "Ach, that'll be Darrin now, though not with the pretty lass, I warrant." With that he steps back to the bar, though you neither see nor hear Darrin approaching down the stairs, until a few seconds later. But than this barkeep, Kyle, must know every creak and it's portent. Darrin returns to the table after snatching up a tankard of ale. "Well, I can see you all enjoyed the food," he says as he takes note of the empty platters lying around the table, two of which are lying in close proximity to Dunz. As he slips into the seat next to the big man, Dunz leans over and a quick whisper is exchanged between them. After that is taken care of, Darrin grins and says to all, "To answer your questions, my new friends, the cargo is none to precious, though the most precious in my mind is the Tabek's Red, and yet I need the extra guards because we have to split the caravan by a day's ride. The bulk of the wagons will go on ahead of us, while we escort one wagon and a carriage." Then Darrin chuckles to hear mention of the blond beauty. "No, She is my cousin and although we are very close, she is nothing more than my uncle's daughter, Zeptha. It is for her we even brought a carriage. I will supply horses... though if you prefer, I need two drivers as well." Darrin's eyes catch Zantorax and he inclines his head ever so slightly towards the other. Softly he speaks, "I had no idea the two of you were close...I, uh, I will keep my distance. Forgive my...drooling as you are inclined to call it." "And food will be provided, though you all are welcome to shoot any wild game you can to spice up the meals. I would appreciate a good change after almost a month on the road..." Darrin trails off as the door open again and all sense a chilling prescense. Another elf stands in the doorway, his obsidian black skin and hair, and eyes of diamond white, piercing the establishment's calm atmosphere. All eyes follow as the Drow strides quickly towards Darrin. DUNZ KANN "I can ride. But if you prefer that I be nearer to whatever/whomever that I am guarding, I can ride next to the driver." With eyes wide at the sight of a drow elf, the warrior hesitates before coming to his feet with his sword half way out of its sheath before fully erect. ZANTORAX NIGHTWIND Not liking the abruptness of this man's arrival, and knowing tales of the drow from my studies of the arcane, I stand and move to intercept the approaching Drow. My staff comes up accross my body, ready for trouble, just in case. "Can I help you, sir?" My tone is calm, almost casual, and I meet the dark-skinned man's eyes unflinching... Never taking my fiery red eyes away from the diamond coloured Drow's I turn my head slightly and say over my shoulder to Darrin. "If this keeps up I may have to charge you for an exra night's body-guarding. But seriously, we should talk in private after we are done here. And by the way, do you know this man?" My tone is somewhere between good-natured joviality, and serious buisness.... FYNVOLA QUAIN At the sight of the dark-skinned elf, Fynvola leaps to her feet and moves dexterously to Darrin's side, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She doesn't allow her eyes to leave the dark elf but she flirtatiously replies to Darrin "We're not *married*, Darrin. Do you have a palomino horse that I might ride? I've never actually ridden a palomino horse before..." her voice is light and excited. Only the harder light in her eyes as she watches the drow belies the innocent, almost child-like air of her voice. ZANTORAX NIGHTWIND Upon hearing Fynvola's bubbly words to Darrin I barely manage to conceal a grin. My thoughts are only momentarily distracted though, and my red irised, electric blue eyes never leave the Drow's Diamond coloured ones. A small fireball bursts from my hand, rises about a foot, then burns itself out. My hairless brow lowers, meant to indicate to the Drow that my attention is fully with him, and that the small display was just a warning... JEREMIAH SHIRO MINAMOTO I rise smoothly from my seat at the sight of the rare drow presence and know that no puny display of magic by us is any threat to even one of his kind. " Do'Urdan! Quefirre soora kan izzt? " I greet him in his native tongue my words edged with a slight Kara-Tur accent. I switch smoothly to common, " Konbanwa brave one. It has been many a year since I last met one of your kind. Even we of Kara-Tur have heard of your famous fighting skills and magic." (ojigi warrior bow of respect). " Dozo ( please ), forgive my impudent friends who are quick to react to one such as you. forgive them for their rashness and please join us for a cup of elverquisst, hai ( yes )? " I offer in token respect and await his reply. ZANTORAX NIGHTWIND After hearing Shiro's response, I let out a slight, wry smile. MALIC DAGGERFALL Hello mate. As you can see, if you have come here for trouble you've come to the wrong place, for only a fool would think he could get away with it. But, if not please have a drink with us. I'll buy the next round. And don't mind my companions they are a bit jumpy these days. Green Turn #4 Who is this Drow? You all watch in wonder as the drow turns toward Shiro and bows towards him in return, his eyes barely glancing at Zantorax's display. He then turns back to Darrin and whispers softly, "Interesting friends you seem to have picked up in this bar. A mage, I guess you would call him and even a cleric of Lathandar," he sneers his eyes alighting down upon Jeremiah. "Yeah, and I was just getting to know them, when you gotta make your usual entrance. You sure know how to spoil a good time," Darrin says with a chuckle. You can all hear him mumble, "...not married, eh?" Darrin shakes his head and continues aloud, "This is Tag, everyone. He's my friend. Don't mind him being snotty," he continues with a huge grin. The dark elf, ignoring Darrin's last remarks, looks past everyone and taking a deep breath, begins completely ignoring everyone else in the bar, "The smith reports that the wheel will be repaired by noon tomorrow, Darrin. I can only make five more miles at the most tonight." As you watch, the obsidian face cracks just a tiny bit with frustration, as he continues, "Perhaps I and the others should just wait up for you, and we will all continue tomorrow." Quickly Darrin moves to the side of his friend, "Have I chosen that badly for my new friends?" Tag's eyes glare at each of the companions, lingering briefly on each one and then his eyes resting on Fynvola, he answers his friend, "No...of course not. But, perhaps your judgement is clouded by..." Darrin puts his arm around Tag's shoulder familiarly and says, "Tag, we have to make sure the main cargo gets to Waterdeep on schedule, and this couple hour delay has already set us back. No need to wait for me. Heck, we will probably catch up to you." As he says this, the emerald eyed, blond haired youth, physically turns the dark one towards the door and begins to guide him away. You can hear him say softly, "This is plenty of extra guards for one wagon and Zep's carriage. Come on. I'll help you finish loading and see you over the bridge." At the doorway, Darrin turns and says to all, "The common room is on me tonight. I'm afraid if you wanted a private room, my cousin Zeptha is already using it. I will meet all of you out front around noon." You watch as his hand reaches into a worn leather pouch and you see the flicker of gold in his palm. He tosses the coin in the air towards the storyteller, whose hand flickers quickly in the air and the coin disappears faster than it had appeared into the folds of the storyteller's robe. Darrin calls out, "A little entertainment for my friends, eh old one." And with that the unlikely pair head out the door. Storyteller on Dwarven Plight You wish a sad story tonight, eh. One that will make the women weep and seek the comfort of strong arms in the night. Such a story I have to tell: The Dwarves in long ago history were once a mighty race of hill and mountain, and their weapons and artifacts were wondrous to behold. But now not much is known of their homelands and kingdoms, yet I will tell you what I can. Before the dragons controlled the lands of Cormyr and the Sunrise Mountains began to spout flames and steam, the Dwarves were a mighty and numerous race. And then the wars began to take their toll, wars with orc and goblin and the settling of the Dragons in Cormyr, and now the Dwarven nation is dwindling in stature and size. No more are their wondrous cities amongst the caverns freely visited. Nay, for the most part their communities are kept hidden and secret, small kingdoms hidden from the larger world. Little is known of the Dwarves of the Far Hills except that they travel to the East to trade their few precious wares. And forgotten also are the enemy occupied holds of Hammer Hall, and the Iron House, those dwarves who had been driven out of the Mines of Tethyamar. However, even as these tales come from the North, there is talk of a great Dwarvish kingdom to the South, beyond the Vilhon Reach. There, a mighty chasm greater than Cormyr in size is supposedly rent in the ground and poised on the rim of that canyon are the towers of the city of Eastheart, while within the walls of the chasm is a huge Dwarven nation called Underholme. There is tell that these southern dwarves are not as dour and taciturn as their northern fellows. In fact they are said to be prouder, more haughty, and more energetic. These great losses of land and life have made the dwarves leave the sanctity of their hallowed mountains and seek a life of trade and adventure in the open world, there to attempt to make a mark on history that will not fade as their race is so doing. GREEN RESPONSES TO TURN #4 ZANTORAX Seeing that the drow knows Darrin I slap myself in the head and laugh. "You should have said something Tag. I almost zapped you, your just lucky I decided not to step on you when you decided to walk around me. I take the job of bodyguard VERY seriously, unlike others in this fool company." My eyes go to Shiro, then to Malic and I shake my head in disgust. I then sit, back to a wall, and think for a bit, shaking my head frequently. Any attempts to disturb me fail although my eyes are open and take in everything around me. After the bard's tale I look at him, "honoured sir, I thank you for your tale, for you honour us with the telling." I toss him a gold then turn to Fynvola. "Fyn, I'm going for a run." I take off my boots and hand them to her. "Can you take care of these for me?" Knowing her as I do I do not wait for her answer. I strap my staff to my backpack, then place it on my back and walk out of the inn. Outside I start a fast jog and head down the street. FYNVOLA QUAIN More than a little awed by the events of the evening, Fynvola sinks into her chair once again. "We didn't handle that very well at all, did we?" she asks no one in particular as she motions for the server to bring her a glass of wine. She then turns rapt attention onto the storyteller, losing herself for a time in his words. When his tale ends, she looks at him wide-eyed and asks earnestly, "We all shared these lands once, dwarves and humans and elves. Why did we not unite against the threats? Goblins, orcs and even dragonkind could surely not have defeated all in unison...could they?" DUNZ KANN Seeing that the dark elf is not a threat to himself, the warrior slides his blade into its sheath, but remains standing throughout the conversation. He then picks a corner of the room, away from any doors/windows, to bed down for the night. He settles in for the story and softly replies to Fynvola's question left hanging. ... "They had no faith." His right hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the warrior eventually drifts off into the land of dreams. JEREMIAH "It seems that we will likely journey together tomorrow and serve to guard the person and property of this Darrin. While I have no experience at this trade, I would cast my skills together with yours and travel the path to Waterdeep with each of you." "I know little of a traveler's life, or of caravans and guards. I have led a simple life in the Tower of the Morn in Elversult. While I know not what tommorrow may bring, I do sense a fittingness and confidence in the presence of this group. For good or ill, I welcome the opportunity to travel with each of you."