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Adventures in Barsaive

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Vidin:

Vidin uses the momentum of his last triumphant attack to surge forwards just enough to attack the Elf bandit once again.
[Vidin Attack: Step 8: 2d6=6]
Though the Windling does seem to maintain a level of skill he had not shown before, he misses quite handily as the Elf sidesteps out of the way of the slash.

Yaiil:
The Elf bandit looks dismayed and harried, and before he even realizes what is going on, the blade of your axe buries deep into the Namegiver's skull. The Elf barely releases a single breath before you can see the life begin to leave his eyes. He falls from your blade, and crashes hard against the foliage below with a hard thump. A crimson pool forming around his body as he lays there motionless.

(And we now drop out of Initative and combat all together.)

Vidin flutters down to the ground and begins to pant hard. "Well... That was a bit more difficult than expected... Though as far as I am aware, that was the last of them." The Windling says, pointing towards the Elf.

Davin winces for a moment. "That was more excersise than I desired. Though I can only hope that this will surely be the end of the 'excitment'. I should have stayed on the farm..." he says, clutching at his stomach for a moment. "I will go back to camp. Dorric has a few potions that can help with this wound... Though something tells me that I would rather deal with this wound than his words." the human states before making his way out of the forest and back towards the camp.

Vidin sighs a bit and flys to a low hanging branch. Well... I can show you that place with that weapon if you like. Or... Quite frankly I don't know what else to do otherwise, save for returning to camp. Your call."
 
"Davin" I call after my injured companion "even if that was enough excitement for you, at least grab one of the bandits weapons" My arm sweeps in a wide arc over the corpses "Should we have to fight again, they will help you more than a pitchfork" Although I do have my doubts that it would help him much, he seemed to lack any form of combat training.

Not waiting for his reaction I turn towards Vidin "Would be a shame to pass up that opportunity now that we are here. Lead the way"
 
It appears that Davin heeds your warning as he picks up one of the short swords on his casual departure. Though ultimately from his display earlier it is likely that it could not serve him much better than his pitchfork.

The Windling shrugs, "Okay than, follow me." he states before leading you further into the woods. The forest seems to stretch on for miles yet, and a question quickly crosses your mind: how long will this trip take? Upon several more minutes of walking, the sun starting to rise up in the background, Vidin leads you into a surprisingly large clearing within what you assume to be the middle of the forest. In the center of the clearing sits six hollowed stumps forming a circle around... Something. As you get closer it becomes apparent that the stumps have formed a circle around a two handed sword. The weapon seems to be non-descript at first, but as you get closer and closer you notice a surprising degree of detail set within. The cross guard of the large weapon seems to be shaped like two stretched thorns, a long and winding vine like pattern is etched into the blade, the vines only connecting together at the very tip of the weapon. At the pommel rests a single ornament: a silver etched rose sits within a silver outer ring. The tip of the rose facing away from the weapons hilt, while the stem seems to connect to it. "Well... Here it is." Vidin states in a manner that screams overly obvious.
 
I stand still and look at the weapon. From what little experience I have it seems to be of at least decent craftsmanship, the ornaments even of a surprisingly high quality. My one concern being that all this decorum might be detrimental to the swords internal sturdiness. My other concern, however...

Aren't valuable items like this is supposed to be one usually either hidden away or well guarded or both? That weapon is lying out there in the open so that I can just go ahead and pick it up, and noone has come along before me and tried that? Where is the catch?

Which is what I voice towards my diminutive companion "You are sure there are no traps or such? Seeing how it is lying there in plain sight it makes me wonder why noone else has found it yet."
 
The Windling brings a hand up to his mouth and holds it there for a moment. "You do make a very solid point. Why would a weapon like this be here in the middle of nowhere for anyone to take? Obviously those bandits were far too dimwitted to look for anything like this in a small nondescript forest such as this one. Perhaps it has to do with the Scourage? Even though it was several hundred years ago, the land is still recovering as best it can... Regardless, I know I cannot lift this weapon so it is of no use to me and my kin. But let me see something..." The Windling states before flying a bit closer towards the blade.
[ Vidin Detect Traps: Step 8: 2d6=21]
The Windling looks close at the blade, and than to the surrounding area, " There are no booby traps...But what is that?" he states pointing to a strange sequence of markings upon the hilt of the blade. The script is some form of Seprethial, the Language of the Elves, and though you have never even seen the script before, the letters stand out as being particularly old. "Well other than that writing I see no other traps." he says with a shrug, "Maybe it is a worthless weapon?"
 
"Only one way to find out ..."

Even if the weapon besides the nice ornamentation is nothing special I am still inclined to take it with me. It is a greatsword after all, and as such an improvement to the axe I am currently wielding. The more refined design of the weapon, created specifically for battle, will allow for more efficient handling that fighting with what basically is a converted woodcutting tool.

So after pausing another moment to gather my courage I step forward, crouch down and extend one arm towards the sword. Let's hope the windling's trap finding skills were good enough.
 
As your hands come down to grasp at the hilt of the weapon, fingers nervously wrapping around the leather, and with cautious might you lift the weapon unhindered into the air. The weapon feels sturdy and well crafted. The wrapon is hevy, as only make sense for a weapon that requires both hands to wield. You wait a moment, mostly with bated breath, for any signs of trouble and there is nothing: no snap, or cracking sound. A certain amount of relief sets in. "Well. The world didn't break apart so I think we are okay. How does it feel?" The Windling asks, flying just shoulder level.
 
At first I just hold the item, blade standing vertically such that with a slightly slanted head I can take in the intricate details of the vines worked into the blade. As the seconds pass without any negative consequences palpable relief sets in and I begin to relax. And to answer Vidin's question I need to try out my new tool, so I do exactly that.

I start to let the weapon rotate in my grip, slowly at first to give Vidin enough of a chance to get away before I accelerate my pace. Although I have never before wielded a two handed sword in my life using the heavy weapon comes with surprising ease, my lessons with the battle axe translating naturally to the new implement of destruction. If anything it is a testament to Ogun's claim that there is more then mere hard work to the talents of an adept.

Before long my practice swings are arching, wide, precise and fast. As far as I can tell the sword is very well balanced, and the craftsmanship indeed exquisite. So that is what I communicate as well "Feels good, a fine piece indeed."

With that I slow down, the sword now loosely held in my dangling arm. Surveying the battle field I ask Vidin sideways "You think any of their stuff is worth taking along?" Good weapons, at least, should be worth some silver in the next town, and my purse definitely is light enough to accommodate a few more. "Besides that, I think we should return to camp."
 
Vidin nods, "Its possible that they could have a few things on them of value. Though honestly I wouldn't put too much hope in that thought, since those that try to steal from others seldom have much of their own. Regardless though they could have a few pieces of silver if we are lucky." The Windling states before taking you back towards the dead bandits. As you pick through the corpses you do manage to find around 35 pieces of silver amongst the four of them. Each of them were wearing leather armor that looks patchworked and heavily worn out. Their weapons are of decent make though, leaving three short swords left that could possibly fetch a price once you reach Bartertown. Other than that you manage to find about a weeks worth of trail rations, and an extra set of flint and steel for campfires, as well as four dingy mats that they used for sleeping on, two of which have been heavily stained with blood.

As soon as you have finished your item gathering Vidin manages to quickly lead you out of the forest and back to the campsite. The entire caravan cheers and claps as you return, calling you the savious of the caravan. Davin is resting by his tent, a thick and heavy bandage wrapped around his abdomin, and an empty bottle of something laying next to him.
 
"Now now, I don't deserve full credit for that" I try to calm down the cheers of the three caravan members still standing all the while fighting back a starting blush. "We could not have done this if Vidin hadn't come and warned us ..." close enough to the truth for me, and seeing how the windling will react to this will also be quite telling " ... or if Davin hadn't fought so valiantly at our side and taken a blow for the team."

With that the matter is settled for me, and I dump the three bandit short swords onto the first wagon before studying the great sword once again. It is indeed a nice weapon I confirm, but I will need a sheath for it if I intend to carry it around with myself at all times. Likely such can be obtained in Bartertown as well. That and the advice of someone capable of deciphering the strange inscription on the hilt.

How to proceed now? It is almost morning, and I for one am feeling too pumped to get back into my bedroll. So I ask the others "Does anyone want to go back to sleep, or shall we make this an early start?"
 
The others shrug a bit at the mention of starting early. "Why not. It will only help us get there faster." Karda states as she makes her way to her tent to finish packing the rest of her belongings. The others in the caravan do much the same though Dorric does take a moment to scratch at his facial hair for a moment before he approaches you.

"I do believe that is a different weapon than what you started with yes? It looks very ornate. Where did you find such a weapon?" The Dwarf asks, already finished loading all of his belongings onto the second wagon. The others finish packing, Davin replaces his shirt and sets in near the second wagon, his pitchfork once again set oh his back. Though ou do manage to see the glint of a sword at rest against his hip.

With a loud crack of a whip, Karda sets the wagons moving onward t the careful pace that has become very familiar to you. Dorric continues to eye the weapon.
 
Of course, Dorric. He is a dwarf, but he also seems to be a scholar. Sort of, at least. So chances are good he might know at least a little bit about some of the inscriptions. Which is more than I do at the moment. And since I hardly have anything to loose...

"That sword you mean?" I therefore begin, holding up the weapon demonstratively "I found it near the bandit's lair. And since it is better than my axe, I switched." After a brief dramatic pause I continue innocently, pretending to ignore the evidently curious glances he has shot at the item "Would you maybe want to have a closer look at it?"
 
Without so much as a second glance, nor did he need any more coaxing, and before you can even grasp at the sword once again it winds up in the adwarf's fingers. The Dwarf continues to adamantly study the weapon. His fingers and eyes glancing over every minute detail and inlay. Though his eyes seem to fall a little heavier on the hilt. "Wait... This is Seprethial... Though in a much more ancient dialect. This would make this an Elfish weapon. One that must be extremely old..." Dorric states, his eyes darting up to you after his little speach. "This is quite the weapon you have found my dear. If you like I can rife through my texts as we make our way to Bartertown and see if I can't find out a little bit about this weapon."

(This particular section has just finished and as such I am awarding you 175 karma points for its completion. Now onto the next section!)

The journey continues for a week before you even get close to the Throlic mountains, the peaks of which are just over the horizon. You are surprised at how long the journey took you and the caravan. Though recollections of years past due seem to make two and a half weeks as the usual time or a round trip. It's early in the morning, the Sun just barely breaking through the skyline when you are awoken by Dorric of all people. The Dwarf looks tired, though seems beyond excited for how weary he appears. "I have something! Your weapon... I cannot believe this. Your weapon is actually of some form of significance. It took me a week of work, but I found a weapon of the same make and ornamentation as yours in one of my ancient journals and learned that it has a name: Grove Cutter. Now I know nothing else about it, just that it is a named Elven weapon. You have quite the object in your hands young lady." Dorric offered, a smile on his face as he nodded to you and made his way back to getting his things prepared. Karda yelled out that Bartertown will be reached before midday. Finally your first major destination is within reach.
 
I wearily rub my eyes as I struggle back to wakefulness. Doing my best to follow his excited monologue I take in all the details he pours onto me, all the while clutching the upper end of my bedroll to my bare chest. I am not sure whether the dwarf is into naked elf girls at all, but see no need to find out right now.

Grove Cutter, hmm. The way the dwarf presents this that must be good news, and I have heard my fair share of tales that recounted of mystic weapons from the past, wielded by mighty heroes who brought fourth their true power. Seems like a long way ahead of me, since currently the thing feels like nothing more than an ordinary greatsword. A well crafted, well balanced and nicely ornamented one for sure, but far from magical.

"That's good news." I therefore reply politely after I have gotten up and dressed and caught up with the dwarven scholar again, giving him a kind smile "So where do we - or I - go from here? I recall Ognar mentioning something once or twice about having to learn more about the weapon... "
 
Before you realize it Dorric goes on a long winded scholarly diatribe about some of the primary functions of how magic works within the world, and how it can express itself. Most of it is boring, and other parts seem rather familiar. You are after all magical in some way. However what becomes important are three constantly repeated words: Names, Patterns, and Threads. While not all of it makes a great deal of sense the way Dorric describes it the general gist seems to be something along these lines:

Magic itself is energy drawn from the astral plane.The astral plane is in extra dimensional space that forms some kind of echo of the world. The echo is connected to physical space through patterns, and as such everything has an astral pattern that expresses itself as a presence in astral space. However most common objects only have a pattern, objects, places, or people have what are called true patterns. These true patterns are formed by the concept of naming, and it in essence allows the magical pattern of a person, place, or thing to express itself a little differently within the astral plane. Though naming something is just an initiating spark, for something to register as truly specifically magical in nature it has to have connections to other places, things, people, or events. These patterns are woven into threads, and thereby threads can be woven into true patterns in order to connect one individual to another.

"So I suppose from here your next move should be to seak out someone who can tell you more about the weapon: it's history, owners, creators even. That might tell you just how magical it is. I would check around Bartertown first. There may be a few Troubadors and/or Weaponsmiths that could help with such a thing, bough it most certainly will take a good deal of time." As the Dwarf finishes, you watch as the mountains draw nearer and nearer in your field of vision. You know now that Bartertown is less than an hour away for you now.
 
"Not only time I fear" I murmur half to myself "but also some silver, as I doubt they will help me for free..." Not only that, but even when I am busy running around town trying to dig up information about my new sword I will still need to eat and sleep.

But that are the problems of the future. For now I am curious to see what Bartertown will bring. For all I know I might soon have a lot more to think about that an ancient Elven Sword. Thus I look ahead onto the path, curious what the city will be like.
 
The caravan moves closer and closer to the outskirts of the city and before you even realize it you are well within its midst. No great entrance or sign truly welcomes you to Bartertown, though the sights themselves surely do that job quite nicely. Building of all manner of sizes dot the landscape, as strange and familiar side shops, and merchant stands lie both around and in between those buildings. It seems a hodge podge of blizzard connections that would seem disjointed anywhere else. The city is a bustle with Namegiver's of all kinds: Humans, Elf's, Dwarfs, T'skerang, Obsidimen, Ork, Troll and even the rare occasional Windling besides your pickpocket companion. The road seems to be the only thing that seems well organized, the road stretching forwards for miles it seems towards the Mountains in the distance. As you take a moment to look towards them you see at the base three connected golden arches that stand as the entranceway to the Kingdom of Throal itself, though they are quite the sight they are still quite a ways away.

The streets are close to packed, but the road seems well kept and close to pristine. The caravan pulls over to the side of the road outside a outer stable jus before the road stretches too far into Bartertown proper. From here your fellow traveling companions gather their things, as well as a few of the bags and crates of goods that were brought to see about getting them sold immediately.
 
"So where do we go from here? How long do we stay, and where do we sleep?" I ask Felix, the one likely most experienced with resolving the caravan's business here in bartertown. Even as I do I pick up what I need to sell as well - the three bandit short swords as well as my old axe. Plus I need a sheath for Grove Cutter. As I gather the weapons in a bundle I parenthetically ask Vidin "Been here before? And how good are you at haggling?" I know it is not a strength of mine ...
 
Felix looks up from one of the barrels of goods, placing it down upon the ground. "Well we usually stay about two days give or take. And as for accommodations there is an inn not too far from here called the Brass Twig that will serve as our home away from home. We have all the rooms set up in advance. The proprietor Vodim is particularly accommodating to us. As for selling goods and things, we usually go stall to stall and shop to shop." the human finishes before placing the barrel onto a rented cart.

Vidin shrugs and shakes his head. "No. I have heard of it of course, but never been. As for haggling I just might be able to help out a little." he says with another small shrug.
 
"So will you need my help, or am I free to check out the city on my own?" I ask Felix. I have done my best to memorize the location of the Brass Twig on the off chance that we - Vidin and I - wil get lost. For someone living here it might not be anything special, but for a newcomer like me all those roads and small alleyways seem daunting.

As soon as I am free to go the plan is to check out the stands to conduct my own business.
 
Felix strains behind a small crate for a moment, "No... I think we shall be alright. Go off on your own. Enjoy yourself." the Human states, offering a slight wave Of his hand. The others offer their approval with words, grunts, smiles and nods.

The market is buzzing. And than you realize that the "market" doesn't actually seem to end. In fact with only a few moments of walking you come to the conclusion that Bartertown is really just one large shopping district with several other kinds of buildings thrown in here or there for conveinience. The stands literally litter the streets with all manner of goods for sale: fruit and vegetables, adventuring equipment, fine antiques and strange, though probably useless, artifacts, as well as several stands that seem to sell weapons and armor. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason for the placement of the stands, though they are luckily easy to differentiate what is being sold or traded.
 
The bundle of weapons under my arm continues to make its weight felt, and so at first I am on the lookout mostly for stands that deal in weapons, especially such that might also be interested in buying some. Thusly I traverse down the aisles until I come across the first of them. Now I could liekly spend all day roaming Bartertown to filter out the best possible candidate, but I prefer a more direct approach. So the first one will have to do, how bad can it turn out?

"Get ready for the big haggling" I whisper towards Vidin before stepping up and adddressing the stands owner. "A good morning to you good man. Would you per chance also be interested in buying weapons?"
 
A Dwarf looks up from the side of the stand, rising up from a chair and walking towards you. He brings a hand up to his thin rimmed glasses, drawing them down a bit as he takes a surprisingly long pause. "It is very rare that I have someone trying to sell me much, as opposed to trying to buy from me. Though I will never turn down an opportunity for good merchandise. Let me see those blades." he says with an intricate wave of his hand. He studies the weapons thoroughly, making sure to rotate, twist, and graze his hand over every thin detail. "The axe is certainly nice. The swords are... In a bit of disrepair, but are fine tools none the less. I am prepared to offer 45 silver for the axe, and about... Oh let's say 25 a piece for the swords. Do we have a deal?" the Dwarf asks, adjusting his spectacles with his hand.

"Though it is certainly true that they aren't in the greatest of shape, these swords are in fact of better quality than most of their kind. Certainly a rarity that one could fetch a better price for no? How about 45 for the axe, but 30 a piece for the swords?" Vidin counter proposes, the Windling gliding gently onto the stand just in front of the Dwarf. The Dwarf's hand moves from his spectacles down to his bearded chin.

"Hmm... Some quality yes, but I would be losing money since they need some repairs done. I can go as high as 27 a piece." The Dwarf proposes as a counter offer. Before he speaks Vidin looks towards you with a questioning expression upon his face.

"28 per sword and you have a deal." Vidin states, his wings gently flapping a bit behind him.

"Hmm. Very well, 28 it is than. I'm assuming that we have a deal?" the Namegiver asks, looking between you an Vidin.
 
As I watch the ensuing haggling I try my best to keep a calm, even confident face. My posture is intended to convey that indeed the Windling is merely acting on my behalf. That does not keep me from wondering what quality exactly he is talkng about. To me they seemed rather ordinary in make. And I know from a reliable source that that axe is a decent weapon, but nothing outstanding either. Especially not like Grove Cutter. So my respect for Vidin grows seeing how he can pull all of this off with a straight face.

"Well..." I finally reply when the attention shifts to me and a response is inevitable. I personally find the price very acceptable and woudl not mind to accept the deal as it stands. However giving in so easily can never be good, can it? "... that does sound like a decent offer ..." I rub my chin as if in deep thought " ... and I might be willing to accept it if you can throw in a sword sheath for a fair price. "
 
(I am so sorry for no post yesterday. I've had two hellish days at work.)

The Dwarf looks towards you for a moment. The pause seems to linger much longer than it should have. The Namegiver's eyes lift upwards for a moment and he releases a breath. "Fine, fine, fine..." he says before moving towards the back of the stand, leaning downwards for a few seconds. He pulls out a sword sheath for a two handed sword, complete with shoulder strap. "This is all that I have for a weapon like that one. Though you will probably have to buy a pad for it from a leather worker." the dwarf states, passing the sheath and coins towards you, and then begins to pile the weapons up before he sets out to put them in the correct spot.
 
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