Dolksford, Free Barony of Illefarn, Wyrmnal
To His Lordship, the Viscount Wilfrick of Verbobonc,
Soon after my last letter to your Lordship, the "Baron" of Illefarn, Melfarm, graced the militia drill with his presence.
This "Free Lord" looked to be a good mix of Wyrmnalian jarl and petty Ras-Prythax noble: a man who has slain plenty of men to reach his position, and is enjoying the fruits of his efforts.
The father of Lord Agwain had already given us a decent but appreciative reward for finding his son's body. Melfarm gave us triple the amount, an actual medal for our efforts, and a formal ceremony where I was forced stand in front of the snickers and guffaws of the militia with the other member's of my patrol:
Alwin Warmark, a mere acolyte of Akana, wielding a flail and donning nothing more than a leather jacket and shield. We ribbed him incessantly about working as a latrine digger before his devotion to Akana, but his care with cleaninng and caring for Lord Agwain's body netted us 90% of our initial reward.
Morya Silverbough, a female warrior, longsword, leather armor, dagger. Enjoys setting up camp and cooking almost as much as knocking the snot out of the rest of us... or Akana forbid, any enemies we encounter.
Rolgrim Snakecloud, a scoundrel by any use of the definition, Rolgrim was previously a mason who learned to hate hard work as much as he hates wizards (or perhaps too many rebuffs from "The Busty Mage" Thendara). He tends to drill with the militia when he's broke from gambling, which is often.
Murag Moutainhammer - If anyone ever mentions the northern dwarves of Wyrmnal in casual conversation, this man will immediately come to mind. The son of a smith who migrated south, the dwarf remains heavily armored at all times, the glint of his battle axe usually at the ready. I've not seen many dwarves in Verbobonc, but this is the first one with almost piercing green eyes that leave me unsettled. I'm delighted he prefers our company.
Apparently we were given the Melfarm's personal Order of Merit, the highest reward a commoner can receive. While I can't get a free ale at the inn with it, we have effectively gotten promotions in and out of the militia. I've been retained for some scribing duties with Melfarm's staff, Alwin's been treated better by his superiors at the temple, and Murag is working part-time with an armorer. Morya is picking up a few silvers acting as the day-to-day assistant (commoner squire?) to Captain Sheren Spearslayer.
And Rolgrim? Let's just say his drilling with the militia far more than he did previously.
I would like to add more to this letter, but it has already been considerable time between dispatches, and Morya was sent notice that our group will be called upon to investigate some odd disturbance further upstream on the Delimbra. I fear a longer letter, or perhaps a short book might be appropriate after this reconnaissance.
Your humble servant,
Elsderth Greyhawk, sellsword and sage
Melfarm's Order of Merit.
GM Notes: Another set-up letter for something farther down the line, and no sign of that despicable elf Talanth or his obnoxious cronies.
Of course, no man is an island, and Elsderth is now part of an eclectic archipelago. I picture Morya or the dwarf barking orders, and Elsderth barely keeping up, but I've been surprised before.
Next: #12 - Under Illefarn
To His Lordship, the Viscount Wilfrick of Verbobonc,
Soon after my last letter to your Lordship, the "Baron" of Illefarn, Melfarm, graced the militia drill with his presence.
This "Free Lord" looked to be a good mix of Wyrmnalian jarl and petty Ras-Prythax noble: a man who has slain plenty of men to reach his position, and is enjoying the fruits of his efforts.
The father of Lord Agwain had already given us a decent but appreciative reward for finding his son's body. Melfarm gave us triple the amount, an actual medal for our efforts, and a formal ceremony where I was forced stand in front of the snickers and guffaws of the militia with the other member's of my patrol:
Alwin Warmark, a mere acolyte of Akana, wielding a flail and donning nothing more than a leather jacket and shield. We ribbed him incessantly about working as a latrine digger before his devotion to Akana, but his care with cleaninng and caring for Lord Agwain's body netted us 90% of our initial reward.
Morya Silverbough, a female warrior, longsword, leather armor, dagger. Enjoys setting up camp and cooking almost as much as knocking the snot out of the rest of us... or Akana forbid, any enemies we encounter.
Rolgrim Snakecloud, a scoundrel by any use of the definition, Rolgrim was previously a mason who learned to hate hard work as much as he hates wizards (or perhaps too many rebuffs from "The Busty Mage" Thendara). He tends to drill with the militia when he's broke from gambling, which is often.
Murag Moutainhammer - If anyone ever mentions the northern dwarves of Wyrmnal in casual conversation, this man will immediately come to mind. The son of a smith who migrated south, the dwarf remains heavily armored at all times, the glint of his battle axe usually at the ready. I've not seen many dwarves in Verbobonc, but this is the first one with almost piercing green eyes that leave me unsettled. I'm delighted he prefers our company.
Apparently we were given the Melfarm's personal Order of Merit, the highest reward a commoner can receive. While I can't get a free ale at the inn with it, we have effectively gotten promotions in and out of the militia. I've been retained for some scribing duties with Melfarm's staff, Alwin's been treated better by his superiors at the temple, and Murag is working part-time with an armorer. Morya is picking up a few silvers acting as the day-to-day assistant (commoner squire?) to Captain Sheren Spearslayer.
And Rolgrim? Let's just say his drilling with the militia far more than he did previously.
I would like to add more to this letter, but it has already been considerable time between dispatches, and Morya was sent notice that our group will be called upon to investigate some odd disturbance further upstream on the Delimbra. I fear a longer letter, or perhaps a short book might be appropriate after this reconnaissance.
Your humble servant,
Elsderth Greyhawk, sellsword and sage
Melfarm's Order of Merit.
GM Notes: Another set-up letter for something farther down the line, and no sign of that despicable elf Talanth or his obnoxious cronies.
Of course, no man is an island, and Elsderth is now part of an eclectic archipelago. I picture Morya or the dwarf barking orders, and Elsderth barely keeping up, but I've been surprised before.
Next: #12 - Under Illefarn
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