3. Samson Swarthout: Chronicles of a Gentle Giant

Samson Swarthout: Chronicles of a Gentle Giant


  • Sam woke up, having decided to spend a night in a real bed in the Regal Whore. The previous day's capture of Captain Barron Alburn had left Sam's back somewhat sore, as Sam had lugged the heavy bandit from his den all the way to the Alliance Arms Inn.

    As was usual on any given day that the mighty half-orc felt like adventuring, he visited a few of the local stores for supplies. As Sam was a veteran fighter, skilled with virtually every weapon made of metal or wood, everything had its place.

    He carefully tied his medicine bags with quick release ties along his belt. The handles of his many throwing axes, were placed into loops across his torso for quick access. Sam could deftly slip them from their loops and hurl as many as two before most targets could even close the distance with him. With Sam's great strength, even a small rock was a formidable weapon if he could hit with it.

    The streets of Jiyyd were quiet, and that was how Sam liked it. Even though it was still early morning, the tempo was not likely to pick up. He set off to Norwick, to satisfy his urge to talk to someone and perhaps do a good deed.

    Passing west of Jiyyd, through orc land, Sam couldnt help but stray from the path a moment to exact a little more revenge on the orcs. They fell easily, and their meager belongings soon filled Sam's pack. When Sam reached the Nars however, he spotted a group of three in combat with a Faithful bandit warrior. They dropped it easily before he could get there, nevertheless, he check to see if everything was allright.

    Robyn, Marcus and Skyla all stood over the fallen body of te Faithful.

    "We're fine," Skyla purred as if it were as easy as sweeping kittens off a table.
    Sam shrugged, about to return to his path to Norwick. "Okee."
    "Well, we are on our way to Peltarch, Sam, if you care to join us."
    Sam hefted his bag on his shoulders, it was quite heavy, but then Skyla offered a solution.
    "By way of the Gypsy camp you mean." Sam grinned. He could sell his treasure there and continue on to peltarch and hopefully sell anything he picked up along the way past the gypsies.

    The foursome set out, and only ran into a few bandits along the way. They were overmatched.
    Sam bid the couple, Marcus and Robyn, on their way for a dinner date in Peltarch to wait for him while he sold his items. He huffed quickly past Skyla, sauntering into the camp past a group of people conversing near Gypsy Pass to sell the crude Orc equipment.

    On his way back he passed the group again… but this time, he could see their faces!
    "Ashan!" Sam whispered to himself harshly. "An Mr Aabi!" Sam couldnt beleive what he saw... Mr Aabi, in polite company with Ashan the Banite murderer.
    Sam realized he was alone, in Alliance colors, within sight distance. There was no escape save the way he came, so Sam put his mighty legs in gear and propeled himself as quickly as possible past them, trying to avert his face so as not to be recognized. Even Sam was not so unwise as to realize his yellow and black armor would attract far more attention than he was prepared for!

    He reached the couple and raced past, shouting "Ashan's back dere! C'mon!" They too quickly joined him in a sprint back into the Nars and away from the cursed Banite and the camp.

    When they reached the road they ran into the familiar, friendly face of Bruno Galpen. Sam quickly recanted the events and soon Bruno was heading to Peltarch too. Someone had the bright idea to let Bruno lead the way. Perhaps the group thought he knew a safe route.

    He didnt.

    In no time the group was surrounded by the fiersome bandit dogs, untrained bandits, Faithful, and officers. Fortunately Marcus kept knocking the enemy weapons from their hands, and Bruno put a severe pounding on them with his mighty hammer.

    In no time, a dozen bodies littered the Nars, some still groaning from their wounds. The couple felt safe enough to continue alone.

    "Whutcha tink 'bout checkin on da gud Captin eh, Mr Bruno?"
    Bruno grinned in response.
    "Okee den, off ta da Inn."

    The two large half orcs trotted towards the Alliance Arms Inn. It was late afternoon.

    They arrived at the Inn, bout an ale apiece and wandered down into the AAI's dungeon to check on the captured bandit captain. He was asleep, curled on the floor.

    Sam chuckled and said, "Watch dis." He ran out of the room, to fetch a pail of water, which he splashed onto Barron's cell floor.

    "Why do dat?" Bruno asked.

    "Cuz whin Ms Vel gits back tonight, she gunna freeze dat water... so's dat feller kin be tucked in gud fer bed, eh?"

    Bruno chuckled mightily. It WAS cold down there. Perhaps some freezing had already been going on?

    The two orcs returned to the top floor for another ale, rest, and they treated each others wounds as best as their skills would allow. Bruno, apparently not quite the skilled herbalist that Sam was. Quaffing another ale each, with one in hand as they walked outside to sneak home in the waning light of evening, they opened the door and went outside, Bruno trailing just slightly.

    (As if two mighty half-orcs could walk out a door side by side!)

    Sam dropped his ale abruptly.

    His hand went to his weapons instinctively.

    Stretched out before them, just outside the gate of the Alliance Arms Inn courtyard, was more bandits than either of them had ever seen in their lives.

    "TO ARMS! TO ARMS!" Sam hollered, but, frozen in fear, he blocked the door. Either that or Bruno was still stumbling into the door frame behind him.

    Sam let loose a rapid, accurate volley of 4 axes, each one striking a bandit square in the face, taking them down instantly. Before he could reach for another axe, two Faithful's came crashing down on him, and a female bandit officer, with her poisoned dagger in hand, working her way behind him.

    "Mr Bruno!! Get out here!" Sam didnt know who to swing at first. He swung blindly, mostly in fear, unable to take stock of the reinforcements pouring through the gate. Suddenly, Sam looked up. Both Faithfuls were dead and the assassin lay mortally wounded at his feet, crawling away, but there was no time for a victory dance, already the gate was breached and more bandits were surrounding him.

    Sam found himself encircled by Officers and Faithfuls, each one he knew had the capability to kill him outright. He backed towards the door....

    .... and bumped into Bruno! Bruno! Thank Helm, Tyr and Torm all at once for good old Bruno! He had summoned a mighty creature to fight for them, and the threesome pushed the bandit hordes back to the gate.

    The bandits were well organized, and as Sam finished with his last fight, he charged in to help Bruno with his, as Bruno was vastly outnumbered. Suddenly he felt a vile dagger sink between the armored plates of his back, and the pain of the poison sucked his strength from him. He staggered back and tried to deal with these new, hidden foes from the shadows.

    "Ach... grrg... Kint hold 'em, Mr Bruno!" The clashing sounds of battle and bandit warcries caused them both to yell.

    "Go in! Ah gots's em!" The wounded Sam welcomed the opportunity to leave the battle, and quickly retreated inside.

    He downed several of his medicine pouches for poison, and eventually felt the threat diminish, but the effects were still on him. He quaffed potion after potion to regain is strenth.... and waited... and waited.

    It seemed like an eternity, but it was only perhaps a mere 20 seconds, but Sam could not wait for Bruno to come inside.. not while he fought alone outside. Suddenly, all fear left Samson Swarthout.

    Sam got angry.

    With a mighty roar, he crashed through the door into the courtyard and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Yuh AINT Gunna git 'im back!"

    With a second wind, Sam jumped in to save Bruno, who was completely surrounded by officers and faithful. Sam concentrated on keeping the enemy off their feet so Bruno could land accurate hammer blows to their prone skulls. In no time the two half- orcs defeated another dozen of their elite. The bodies were so thick that everyone stumbled across the courtyard turned red-stained battlefield.

    Opening the gate to press into the enemy and return the offence back to the Alliance, they spotted what looked like at least another forty bandits coming at them.... the second wave. Bruno and Sam looked at each other, panic, anger, and resolve to do their duty all in their eyes.

    "Inside!" Bruno screamed. Sam didnt need to be told twice! The two hurriedly raced inside, panting, leaving bloody footprints all across the tavern floor. The bartender, even in his fear, scowled at the mess that they made across his floor.

    "Dey tuk Sam's stenth, Mr Bruno... poison."

    "We's goin back out. Give's us a bit." Bruno began casting spells in a quick desperation. There was no holding back. Bruno cast a strong strength spell on Sam which restored the giants devastatingly strong muscles, and even enhanced them. Bruno summoned his mighty beast to aid them one last time. A few more spells and the two looked at each other again.

    There would be no more retreating.

    With a raging yell, the two charged out the door and slammed into another half dozen officers and faithful, knocking several off their feet, careening into each other. By this time the enraged Alliance men worked together in harmonious union, concentrating their efforts and cutting the bandits down one after another.

    Despite the Alliance's fiece defense there were just too many, too strong. Bruno suddenly stepped to the side a moment and called down lightnight from the heaveans in a fantastic display of eerie blue destruction.

    "Dis's da end!" Sam cried out, thinking that the bright light that blurred his vision was the light at the end of the tunnel.

    But the sounds of battle were still with him, and his sword arm still swung. Bruno called down another volley which so weakened every enemy in the courtyard the two finally managed to rapidly they push the bandits back to the gate.

    "Sam, hold gate! Me's gunna check's Barron. Make sure dey's aints gots him's!"

    "Yuh!"

    Bruno dissappeared, his dastardly creature went with him.

    Suddenly Sam was alone.

    He peeked through the crack in the gate and saw more bandits reinforcing. He sighed.

    "Sam's gunna die tuday," he muttered. Backing away from the wide gate, he placed his back against the door to the inn, hoping Bruno would return soon. The lull in the battle was disconcerting. He stabbed his hand and a half sword into the ground where it would be waiting for him. What WERE they doing out there!?

    Organizing.

    Sam had his last few axes ready, to decimate them once they opened the gate, and sure enough they poured through yet again like water.

    "Rah! Rah! Rah!" Sam threw his axes in a pure, seething anger, the kind of anger only orc blood can muster. He reached down for another axe- they were close now, Three more stumbling or fallen from his axes.

    But there were no more axes left in Sam's little loops. There was no time to unsling his bow. He grabbed his sword.

    He charged.

    This was it, and Sam knew it. Hurling himself into the last fray the bandits scored hit after hit. Sam turned and stumbled away towards the door, quaffing his last potion in a desperate attempt to keep his feet. Where was Bruno!?

    The potion was a fine brew, and Sam turned, suddenly revitalized. Completely surrounded and nearly blind from the blood of his enemies streaming down his face, Sam didnt even notice when Bruno appeared from behind him. Bruno raced past, peeling several attackers from Sam and crushing them instantly under his hammer.

    Near death, with his attackers at his feet, Sam paused a moment to watch Bruno charge into the fray with renewed vigor. Bruno smashed opponent after opponent, pushing them back to the gates. Ultimately, even Bruno's assault was stalled and Sam lugged himself over aid his comrade.

    He heard a tinkle in his pack, and realized he still had some small potions he used for others, but the time for holding back was long gone. He drank everything he had, and it wasnt much.

    Together, side by side, Bruno and Sam smashed the last of the Bandits against the gates, like waves of the ocean smashing a swimmer against the rocks.

    It was over.

    The two leaned on the gates, looking at each other, covered in gallons of the bright red human blood they had spilt. At least they were uniform.

    Sam tried to laugh it off, "Too bad we dint haff a keg eh, Mr Bruno?"

    Bruno chuckled, more strongly than he felt, but anything to break the tension was welcome. Unfortunately, Sam had to restore it.

    "Guess we gutta luk out da gate an see whut else dey got left eh?"

    Bruno sighed tiredly, "Yup. We's do." He paused. "Here we's go." Bruno kicked open the gates revealing the Giantspire valley.

    One lone Faithful stood in the distance, praying for strength.

    Leaning heavily on their swords, Sam and Bruno waited patiently.

    "Aw... c'mon! Sam's tired! Dunt make us walk over dere!?"

    The Faithful was obliging and he charged , Bruno's hammer knocked him into Sam, who practically fell on him, knocking him down. Again, Bruno's hammer crushed another skull.

    NOW it was over.

    "Barron still down dere?" Sam's words were loud in the quiet silence.

    "Uh huh," Bruno panted.

    "Tink we kin git dat ale now?"

    "Uh huh."

    Side by side, Bruno and Sam drug their weapons behind them, exhausted, completely spent.

    Resting finally on the stools, a trail of blood tracked into the Inn, Bruno asked one final question.

    "We's nut's cleanin' dis mess up's, is we's?"

    "Nuh uh."

    **OOC Note: I dont know how many bandits we killed. Ive never killed so many at once EVER! Thanks to Bruno and BIG thanks to SeraPhaine (perhaps other unkown DM's? ) for running something so.... SCARY! holds onto his precious 1k RPXP over cap


  • A PROSE SUMMARY

    Vashere's offer was indeed great, and Sam took up the cause with his usual full purpose. He escorted the great leader across Narfel many times and as always they reached their destinations safely.
    However, after the festivities at the wedding of Breath and Lilliana, Vashere came under attack by goblin assassins and elites. Vashere came away alive, but not unscathed.
    Unbeknownst to Sam, it was the last time he would see Vashere as the Regent.
    Vashere relinquished the Alliance to Velaria Scrye.

    Dark days followed for the Alliance, and even Sam often felt embarrassed to bear the 'bumblebee' armor, but his commitment to the cause never waned. He wore the armor wherever he went, knowing that even if he were the last of the Alliance to stand, more bandits would fall to his hand, if only in retribution for the loss of his friends.

    "He Who Lurks in Shadows" continued his work, alone for several weeks, waiting for word if the Alliance would be reborn.

    Eventually that word came, and Sam pledged himself to Velaria Scrye, as her personal guard, just as he had for Vashere, with the same warning that should she ever stray from the path of good, Sam would be her enemy.

    During those weeks without a leader, Sam had a number of adventures of note.
    L o f Ilhutie was taken and released by the elves, and Sam was overjoyed with his return, but still felt a deep sense of guilt that the elves did not consider Sam to be part of the trial, for he DID share some of the blame.
    The little halfling, Scutum, Sam's first real friend in Narfel was taken hostage and Sam patrolled the Nars alone looking for her, facing down archers and faithful warriors alike with a tenacious resolve that only He Who Lurks in Shadows could have survived. Whether divine grace or sheer dumb luck guided Sam, he survived and Scutum Hedges was rescued.

    Shortly thereafter, the orcs raised their ugly head and assaulted Jiyyd proper with an overwhelming force. The defences fell quickly and only a last ditch effort by those drinking in the tavern repulsed the first invasion. Sam ran desperately for norwick to get helm, and even as he left, he could see the sky above Jiyyd red with the burning of the structures, the sounds of battle raised anew. Upon reaching Norwick he found Norwick already mobilizing to come to Jiyyd's aid.
    The counterattack was broken into two parts, Kanen leading an assault on the South gate, Sam found himself on the western gate.
    At the designated time, both elements assaulted the gates. Sam found himself blocking the gate to prevent the orcs from pushing them back. Only with sams great size and strength was he able to hold them in place, sometimes finding himself toe to toe with two crushers at once. He swung his sword for his life, for his town, and for the lives he knew would be lost of he slipped from his precarious position at the center of the gates! This time, Sam would die before he let another beloved home be yanked from his grasp by URKS!
    Eventually the strike force prevailed with stunningly few casualties. Sam found himself exhausted, covered in the dark blood of his foes, but still standing. Several Crushers, Snipers and even a destroyer lay broken near him, his comrades cheering loudly about their victory, but Sam… Sam sauntered into Jiyyd and took a nap someplace quiet and out of the way.

    In the time that followed, Sam spent quiet hours in Jiyyd, only occaisionally venturing out to bring terror and destruction on his most hated enemy, the orcs. What little he could scavenge from them he sold and worked his pocket book until he had enough money to buy a farmstead on the outskirts of town.
    When he approached the town's leadership, he was told, "Nothing is open at the moment, come back next month." And so he did.
    And the next month... and the next.
    Sam's frustrations to put a roof over his head were mounting and he started spending more time, in a bit of depression in the dark recesses of the Jiyyd cave, in the little cavern far in the back where no one would notice him.

    In time, with plenty of it on his hands, Sam restored a bit of his spiritual strength and ventured out once more to just 'check on things.'

    He ran smack dab into Velaria, who immediately recruited him to assist the Alliance on a mission of great importance.
    "We are going to capture Captain Barron Alburn, Sam."
    Sam shuddered. That was one foe that Sam dreaded indeed.
    A small Alliance strike force set out from Norwick to see to the task. The fighting was intense and brutal, but thanks to the blessings of a generous cleric, the presense of Bruno Galpen and several others, the Baron was subdued and hogtied.
    Sam carried him to the Alliance Arms Inn where Velaria had him thrown into the small dungeon.
    The interrogation of Captain Baron Alburn had begun, and the Alliance's first great victory against the bandit horde was complete.


  • NEW ENTRY

    Been a bit busy lately. I have not spent much time with Ms Dani as I'd like, and in fact I think she may be angry that I have been so busy.

    The truth is, I have not been THAT busy. Besides working for hours to learn how to make better weapons and armor, Ive done very little that I could not have set aside for some of my friends.

    That is bad, Sam, bad.

    NEW ENTRY

    I could write about saving a werewolf with Mr Damarcus, Gatsu and Ms Cala and Ms Elissar, but what would be the point? We did it, at the cost of two others who we could not save.

    I was to knock the creature down and restrain it while others force fed it the herbs to counter its disease, but instead, as I kept them down, they fired their bows at them until they perished. What was the point of a rescue where the rescuees are slain?

    My memories of Nara are still too close to my heart apparently. Ms Elissar gave me a kiss for the help and I could not stop the feelings of guilt I felt. Then later in the pub I won a moronic drinking constest where the loser had to run around the town naked greeting everyone they met. That was good fun and for the sake of his dignity I will not write his name- hopefully he will not remember his insane antics as he ran around the town.

    I won a date with Ms Elissar from the contest.

    There are so many lovely young women here, and yet- what has been taken, cannot be given again. Will I grow old here and die, without ever finding love? No, I guess I will not. I found love once, and she is long gone, perhaps never to be found. Will I ever love like that again?

    At least, in Norwick I told my tale so she would understand and this foolish game of pursuing a date is over.

    NEW ENTRY

    The Alliance it is.

    I had just finished escorting Ms Scutum to the Bandit cave because for some ill begotten reason she had decided to aid two barbarians, both named uthgar. We routed the bandits, and the barbarians got whatever prize they sought. I managed to do some quick mining. I am almost ready for copper now.

    No sooner than I returned, but Mr Budo asked me to take him to the Alliance Arms Inn. After returning from the bandit cave alive, with all in tow, having done a fair bit of mining as well, I was in a generous mood again and began walking that way. Mr Arah came along as well, though why I do not know.

    As it turned out, Mr Budo is the 'Secretaire' of the Alliance and spoke with me some about their purpose. I find myself more and more listening to what they say, beleiving their purpose.

    Eventually Mr Vashere came to speak with me. He spoke of his desire to unify the towns against the Bandits, and I recognized him as a leader willing to go the distance for such a cause. Unifying the towns under a common leader is certainly something that appeals to me. Perhaps with a wise, benevolent leader some of these stupid laws can be repealed and perhaps I can even walk the streets of Peltarch without a helm without fear of being thrown in jail.

    He claims to be a former paladin of Torm, the diety Mr Darian claimed I followed most closely. This intrigued me, as did his story of why he is no longer a paladin, and I can say I can not blame him for his actions. I would have done the very same thing in his case.

    He asked for my aid and eventually, with more of his ideas presented, I accepted. Then something most interesting happened. His offer seemed great, but ultimately he promised the very thing I long for most- the chance to put down the blade and live life humbly and out of the way of the rest of the world as a commoner.

    Until that day comes, I must see what price must be endured between now and then.

  • D

    So I don't forget…

    Cap reached. Congrats. 😉


  • NEW ENTRY

    Where to begin…
    First, I lost my stump and I had no intention in writing in blood- a cursing act if ever there was. Certainly my life and times are not worthy of such a religious act as recording it in blood. I spent too much time in the Nars to fetch a new one, but now that I have a working pen, I will try to recall what I can.

    NEW ENTRY
    Bitten by a werewolf. Thanks be to those rude dwarves for this new sword however, it pierces their thick hide well enough, but not quickly enough for me to drop it before its jaws closed on my arm. I didn’t think anything of it. A bad mistake.

    I was escorting two younger folk from Jiyyd to Norwick and I remember fighting off bandits and telling them to run the rest of the way to Norwick, we were only about half a mile from the gate. My next memory found me on the ground by the North Gate, beaten soundly with several wounds and… NAKED!

    My brand new Peltarchian plate armor was gone. This deeply confused me. But I thought the magic of the well probably had something to do with it. I was aided by Ms Jenna who healed my wounds, but the suspicions of the townsfolk were upon me so I left town as quickly as I could. Out on the Nars I found the remains of my armor, the leather straps torn through and the plates flattened, as if my size had outgrown my once fine armor.

    I caught a caravan to Peltarch to buy new armor., and with it in hand, spent the day collecting orcish wares to sell in Jiyyd with Mr Lof Ihutie. He is a fine companion, odd that an elf would be so friendly to me, but welcome in any case.

    That very next night, I split that set of armor apart at the seams as well, and when I awoke, naked again, Mr Orock and a very paladin seeming woman named Laurana were standing over me. It would seem Mr Lof and I had become infected by these werewolves and had even attacked Mr Hugh, the wandering monk. I hope he harbors no ill of it, it was not my doing that we attacked him. He quickly made his escape and I wonder if I bit him in that state and he too is now in jeopardy of turning.

    I daresay I am lucky to be alive, Orock wanted to kill me on sight, but the paladin stopped him.
    “I –AM- Dawnsister Laurana of Lathander!” She spoke in the most annoying of paladinly proclamations, “And I will see you cured!” It was a great relief to know and I placed myself into their care. She honored her word and Mr Lof and I were cured.

    It is fortunate that my ‘relationship’ with the Jiyyd healer, Ms Vroka is so favorable, or we may never have gotten the belladonna we needed.

    NEW ENTRY

    Made yet ANOTHER trip to Peltarch to get new armor. Expensive. Im going to die penniless.
    I hate that town. I cant even sell things there anymore. Ms Lucia almost arrested me for ‘smuggling.’ I think it’s just another snobby way for Peltarchians to hoard their money from the rest of Narfell.

    I tried to get a drink there, even wearing a damned helmet and they refused to serve me. Im going to beat the tar out of the next Peltarchian that tells me to cover my face or refuses me service. After I am done with them THEY will need a helmet to cover THEIR face! Then they can enjoy themselves all they want in that blasted city.

    NEW ENTRY

    I went touring abroad with Ms Scutum, Ms Lilli, Mr Orock, Mr Bram, and one other half orc. My tolerance of those like me increases somewhat, but I wonder if I can ever grow to trust them fully. I still remember Orock stating clearly he wanted to kill me rather than cure me, but he did give me a very large shield and a pair of boots, so perhaps he was wishing to make amends.

    On our tour we visited the remains of a once great city, now crumbled and overgrown, possessed by undead. My marksmanship with the bow increased somewhat as we shot them down, wave after wave. Eventually, so many came out of the ground that we escaped through the city gates into a place I have no desire to tread again.

    I met my first Orcish Heavy Sniper! At least I didn’t have to pull that mighty bolt out of my leg- it passed straight through! I limped quickly away, fearing what would happen if I took one in the chest! We also fought against their mages before we escaped back into Jiyyd, tired and breathless from the run through their territory.

    In all- it was exciting, but all we gathered from the experience is knowledge of where NOT to travel in the future!

    NEW ENTRY
    I have been recalled from death by a bandit. How odd that I’ve been hunting them down in retribution for the loss of my friends yet they saved my life. Naturally they left a mark on me which will greatly shorten my life until we retrieve some cursed item for them.

    It started with a huge battle against the Bandits with were-creatures fighting along side of us. Something else I cannot understand, why anyone would choose such a life.
    We entered a dark, bandit infested and heavily trapped cave. It didn’t take long for me to find the most powerful trap in the place. The damage it did left me weakened throughout the rest of the journey. I suppose I would have never gone if Ms Scutum and Lilli hadn’t been there. I knew it would be too much and now I pay the price.

    Apparently some sort of deal was worked out with their leadership, but I don’t know yet what that was. If we do not find some ‘orb’ they desire, then I will most likely die quite early from whatever magic they used to return life to my body.

    As Mr Darian used to say: This doth not bode well.

    The good news is my friend Ms Dani has returned and I am enjoying the simple pleasure of helping her get on her feet. It seems she has had as tough a time as I. Finally I can return some of the kindness given me, to another.

    NEW ENTRY

    Norwick be damned!

    I have tried my best to contribute something wherever I go, but it seems whatever I contribute in that blasted town of Norwick comes back in my face.

    This time I was walking from Peltarch and as I crossed into the final stretch of the Nars I swear I spotted that super criminal they all speak of, Ashan the Banite. I have no love for Banites surely, but perhaps I’ve taken more of his reputation to heart than I thought. I saw him, his minions and I ran for my life!

    No point in being a dead hero, and I swear even if I could run Ashan through, I would be tried for murder in Norwick!

    I sounded the alarm in Norwick and quickly enough the city mounted a defense. I stood near some of the militia watching how they would handle this threat when I saw an elven woman, a spell caster by her light clothing and its designs.

    I shook my head to clear it… I’d been looking at that spot idly for no reason when she simple appeared on the city side of the wall and began… ‘slinking’ (the only word that makes sense) along the wall.

    I brought this to the attention of Mr Lof who nodded to me and knocked an arrow to cover me. Rather than run the risk of her getting off a spell within the town limits (we were all standing so near the well) I bowled her over promptly. Instead of howling with injustice an assault, she stood, a flare of fire in her eyes and I knew she meant to do harm to someone. Just then Mr Lof’s arrow struck her back, mortally wounding her. Her body vanished almost before it hit the ground. Very strange that woman.

    Naturally the dwarven militia and some strange elf were upon me in seconds. Mr Covah called me a murderer. In his eyes, all he witnessed was me killing some woman with an axe. I think his eyes are going bad. I never swing an axe and I did not kill that woman. I would have much rather knocked her to the ground and sat on her, but alas she was too lithe and ready for battle when she somehow crossed the north wall.

    I allowed myself to be arrested with Mr Lof, placing my faith that what is good will prevail.

    Our trial was with the Mayor of the town. I was fortunate to have made a new friend, Mr Azrael. A member of the Alliance. I am beginning to think the alliance has more level heads than this militia ever will. Apparently Mr Azrael is a man of great importance for he interrupted the trial to lend his words before he was ‘dismissed’ by the mayor. I don’t know what weight his words had. Several other spoke on my behalf as well. Even Mr Covah could not summarily prosecute me as a murderer, for even he knows my nature, but he did try to see me in shackles no less. I suppose he was just doing his job.

    In any case, despite the things said about me and Mr Lof, I felt deeply afraid for my position. Mr Lof, being a member of the militia would have more freedom of action, and he is an elf- rarely are elves persecuted these days. However, I felt that it would be an easy thing for the mayor to ‘pin the blame’ on me and have me locked up for the rest of my days.

    I felt that some credibility had to be added to the perceptions lent by the others as to my character. I am still embarrassed that I did it; appalled that I stooped so low as to lean on a title for my defence, but as it would seem, known character accounts for very little here.

    Mr Darian was right long ago when he said to me, “The day may come when who you associated with, and who you are known by will mean all the difference between life and death, regardless of WHAT you are at the time, Sam” And he was right, even from the grave, he was right.

    For the first time in my life, I- begrudgingly- gave my full name and title. Something I have never done of my own accord, but… if I had not? I fear I would be decorating wall irons in the jail.

    Sir Samson Swarthout
    Honorary Member of the Order of Tyr
    Honorary Member of the Order of Helm

    a drop of ink as if the pen had paused under the titles

    Words. Just words. I’ve thought them in my head a thousand times trying to learn their meaning, their significance. Paladins rise and fall and they are all FULL members of these orders. So what does that make me? It has been so long since I spoke with a member of these orders except Mr Kanen, but before I start on him…

    Whether or not it was my pledge on the honor of those titles that I acted in the defense of the town or the words of those who spoke on my behalf I don’t know. The mayor simply felt it was rash actions of a city already on edge in the stresses of an impending attack. We were dismissed from his court, but despite his mercy, I have had enough of Norwick. I traveled immediately to Jiyyd and I intend to stay there, Norwick be damned!

    NEW ENTRY

    I was going to write about Mr Kanen…

    It has been a long while since I have had purpose in my life. The faithful among the bandits are just as steadfast in their beliefs as the day I began my patrols of the Nars pass. The Alliance begins to look more appealing, but I still know little of their activities or plans. I only that I would follow several of them because I feel they are good at heart.

    Everyone knows Mr Kanen is a paladin of Helm, and I thought perhaps that I could find my old path, walking behind a paladin and doing things to help people under a paladin’s guidance.

    I have met several Paladin’s of Helm in my days, and I have come to one conclusion. Humility is not one of their virtues. Twice I have approached him, pledging my aid, and twice he has brushed me off like grass stuck to his behind. I now deeply regret losing those pins so long ago. Perhaps if I had worn them they would not have been lost in my bag when I was thrown overboard the Monkey’s Nuts so many years ago. They probably fetched 5 gold each with a pawnsman like Frago somewhere. If I had them, perhaps Mr Kanen would treat me differently, but quite obviously he believes nothing I say.

    As it is, my trouble in Norwick certainly has me branded as a trouble maker and probable murderer, and now it is unlikely I will be able to lend my aid to any worthy cause.

    About that suspicious elf woman. One of the Troffs told me I now must make retribution for her death by recovering a bow from some place called the warrens. Apparently it lies beyond the bugbears even. If the bow is not received, the brother of this woman plans to launch an elven attack against Norwick. I find it odd that an elf would demand a material item, rather than discuss it with me or Mr Lof in person.

    The Troff was with an elf, I did not catch his name but he too, how characteristic of him, accused me of worshipping Gruumsh! How ignorant of him. How damned insolent. I nearly crushed the life out of him for thinking it! If not for Ms Dani and the Troff I certainly would have pummeled my hatred of Gruumsh into his thick headed elven skull the likes of which he would remember for the rest of his long crippled life!

    For his quick judgement I wagered him that I would fetch this bow if he accompanied me. If he is so noble that he can peer down his nose on one of my blood then he certainly is so noble that he would simply for the righteousness of the deed, also lend his aid. We will see.

    NEW ENTRY

    Nothing has happened of late. I am trying my skills as a miner and a smith. The tradesmen in Norwick are generally a friendly lot. I have escorted several to the bandit mine so they can mine to their hearts content, and I guess it spurned a desire to do so myself. Perhaps that, and the fact that I was charged 2400 gold for a decent sword…. I’ll make a far finer smith than any dwarf and a far fairer merchant!

    Perhaps farming can wait. I could certainly see living in Jiyyd and becoming the finest blacksmith of the city. Perhaps by making swords rather than wielding them, I can buy a spot of land and forget about the woes of the world.

    We will see. I suspect that the smithing will only be a hobby, and I will ever always succumb to the urge to inflict pain on these bandits for killing my friends.

    NEW ENTRY

    Mining and smithing is far too dangerous. I escorted Mr Lanz, Mr Emerus, and others to the bandit cave so they could mine in peace. We had no troubles until we reached the Baron's lair. As we quiety readied ourselves by the door, suddenly the Baron burst forth with all his minions and a horrific battle ensued. In the chaos I was shoved deep into the passage way and suddenly the door closed!

    I was face to face with TWO faithful and several bandits and their wenches. I swung like a madman, picking off the poorly equipped bandits first, then bowling over both Faithfuls just long enough to get in a quick draught of one of my finest potions. After a moment or two, I was standing over a pile of bandits… all bleeding and moaning on the floor of the cave, but I could hear a battle raging outside the door. I kicked the door open long enough to see the Baron scattering our party like flies and I swung at him once, and he at me before the doors closed in our faces.
    I had to again drink a potion, then opened the door and tried to bowl him over so we could subdue him with our weight, he was too resilient even for MY weight and we stabbed each other again before the doors closed.

    Another potion. I opened the doors in a rage, finally knocked him down and whether he was shot by one of the elves or it was my sword taking his head off, I dont know nor care... he fell. But around him were 4 of our formerly happy miners, all in great need of aid.

    We left quietly, I carried three of them on my shoulders. Thank goodness for Mr Lof's deep pockets, we restored them all, but Mr Emerus and Mr Lanz are quite weakened from their wounds.

    Perhaps I was not meant to be a miner after all?

  • D

    Reviewed. XP Pending.


  • _He Who Lurks in Shadows crept cautiously along the remains of the Old North Wall on a dark moonless night. His eyes, one of the few benefits he appreciated from his orcish side, were keenly adapted to nights when ordinarily it was so dark a human couldn't see their hand in front of their face.

    In a crouch, moving slowly so that his armor would not clink and jingle, he reached the crumbling end of the wall and peered around in a crouch. Far off on the distance he could make out a few human forms, two sitting, one standing, all facing towards the road leading north to Jiyyd.

    He hefted a throwing axe in his hand a moment and judged the distance… "Too far," he thought. Silently he circled them at about 150 yards until he was behind them. His wary gaze did not focus on them, he knew where they were, instead he picked his steps carefully, his heavy frame would shatter twigs and even small logs. He also gazed often, sweeping 270 degrees to keep track of his surroundings. As he edged into range he noticed another silhouette, standing partially hidden near a tree and as he stopped. He sniffed. The pungent odor of urine filled his nostrils.

    Him first, he thought. Moving as quickly as he dared to within 50 yards, he brought the axe far behind his shoulder. Squinting into the night, he judged the range, and could tell this one was a magic user, his thin clothing betraying his role. As the man finished his business with the tree, he turned slightly, presenting a frontal target as he secured himself.

    The axe was stayed just long enough for the man to regain his dignity before it crashed into his chin, cleaving it in half and burying itself into his neck, completely sealing the airway. The impact knocked the man unconscious instantly, and he pitched backwards without so much as a twitch. The wound itself did not kill him; he suffocated to death unconscious as the axe blocked the airway.

    "Did you hear that?" The voices carried from the other three as the wind changed again, blowing towards the giant shadow skulking in the darkness.

    "Damned fool probably passed out again," from the seated male.

    "He said he had to 'go.'" A standing female.

    "Probly meant 'e hadda git another li'l nip in if ye ask me!"

    "Let him sleep it off- we dont need him. 'ell, no one's comin' down this road tonight. Too dark, and they know we're out here. They'll come out with their precious gold tommorow morning at the earliest," the man bemoaned."

    The woman seated next to him cursed. "An' it'll be somebody else's shift then!" She muttered something incoherent, then said, "Oo, da 'ell is makin' up these shifts!? I git the night shaft all the time. I got 'BILLS' ta pay y'know!?" Her hands gestured strangely and it was apparent she meant personal debts, perhaps wagers.

    The standing woman coo'd slightly, her speech was more refined than the seated woman's. "Oh... I know." She smiled and giggled.

    "Who?" Said the man dryly. "I'd like to know too. I've been stuck out here more than my fair share as well. I'd like to know whose in charge of planning these little things. I know it aint Denakin, he just relays for someone else. The sod we have to give up a cut too."

    She smiled down at them as she stood behind them and turned her back to them coyly, reveling in the slight power of her knowledge, "Oh, no... its NOT Denakin at all, dear. Its-"

    THUMP. Her body gave a spastic twitch and her chin dropped to her chest to see a metal handle protruding from between her breasts- the axe head having cleaved her heart in two. She crumpled to her knees, staring at the handle, tears welling in the corner of her eyes from pain, shock and the knowledge that only seconds of her life remained.

    The other two jumped to their feet quickly as the mortally wounded woman turned around, face filled with panic, as if one of them could aid her now. She continued to twist around towards them and fell on her side face down, legs still tucked into a kneel.

    "HELLS!" the man cried out. Another axe sung through the air, an invisible missile of life stealing devastation seeming to materialize from nothingness in the deep, dark night.

    A dull thud and a sharply exhaled breath from the force announced the arrival of this axe into the other woman's soft stomach. It was thrown with such strength that it broke her lower spine after it traveled through the soft organs.

    She too crumpled to the ground quietly.

    The male bandit, still having not seen the attacker, knew not where to attack, so he blindly ran for the tree to provide him a bit of cover while he tried to see his enemy, still hidden in the protective covering of the depths of this night. He felt the chill of the air as he ran for the tree, the terror and cold raising goosebumps on his arms. Just before he reached it he stopped short at the sight of the mage with a throwing axe imbedded into his face.

    That sudden stop saved his life.

    His halt meant that the thrower's lead was off, and the axe glanced off his forehead, throwing him to the ground. Stars exploded and the man writhed on the ground with the pain of a fracture to his skull. Blood dripped freely from the deep wound to the scalp. The bandit kept his presence of mind and disciplined himself to lay still, as if the axe had indeed killed him.

    He steadied his breathing to slow deep regular breaths, squinting his eyes hard with the pain and relaxing them enough to see through the blood.
    The night stars granted only a tiny bit of light, but he could hear something moving towards him. It was large, with heavy footsteps. As if materializing out of thin air, a great beast strode forth on two legs, a mighty shield on its arm and what looked like a greatsword wielded lightly in one hand. The man saw for the first and last time... He Who Lurks in Shadows.

    Reaching slowly for his short sword, still wracked with pain from the wound on his head, he looked to where the eyes should be. He saw a pale blue reflection from them, as if lit up from the inside, but the rest was a giant, black silhouette. His hand stopped moving towards his sword.

    "No... please, no!" He begged. He could only hear the silent breathing of the shadow, as the bluish eyes stared down at him with... sadness?

    "Please... spare me!" He pleaded, suddenly beleiving he might actually be spared.

    The bandit realized it was not a god or a demon come to claim him, but a brute of incredible size and proportion. It sighed deeply, almost tiredly.

    Then it spoke.

    "Surry."

    Its voice was deep and resonating, but softened and quiet. As if capable of a thunderous volume, but reserved and timid.

    Gripping his forhead, to keep the blood from running into his eyes the fallen bandit pleaded further, "I have a family! I am just trying to feed them!" It was a lie, but he doubted the creature would know that.

    The creature shuddered a moment, as if a sob wracked the massive bulk.

    A long silent pause broke the stillness as the creature thought.

    "Yuh...." A longer pause. "So did Sam."

    The man blinked as more blood trailed into his eyes and he never saw the swing that separated his head from his body.

    He Who Lurks in Shadows looked up and turned around to scan the area a full 360 degrees to look for more bandits that may have been missed. His eyes spotted somone on the road-

    He started. A surreal visage stunned him. Shocked and unable to speak for a moment as he watched a lithe female running down the road in the distance, too far to be madeout clearly but... It could not be! His heart lept for a moment! Was it Narawien? His lost love from before Narfell?

    He took a step towards the road, and then another. It was not Narawien, but rather Lilliana and Scutum at her side, running swiftly down the road towards Jiyyd.

    As he moved closer to see them more clearly he stepped on something. It was the outstretched hand of the first bandit woman, axe still in her chest. He looked to her face and it stared back at him with a frightenly familiar countenance.

    It was Safinaz.

    "Where were you, Sam?" She accused. Shock and spiritual agony struck him like thunder. His mouth opened to answer but another female voice stopped him. It was Nourjehan's.

    "We needed you, Sam. Where were you when we needed you?" He turned to see the other bandit woman with the axe in her belly, clutching it, but it was Nour's face that he saw.

    "Where is OUR Justice, Sam, or has Tyr abandoned you?" This voice was male, the familiar voice of the Paladin Malek Terebrae, and it came from the recently cleaved head. It had come to rest, staring at him accusingly.

    He Who Lurks in Shadows backed away, terrified and confused, mouth working silently to answer, but the conflict of emotions and confusion of these events were overwhelming him quickly.

    "How, Sam, could you have served Helm for so long and fail to be there for us? Where was the Guardian when we needed him?" It was the final taunt, the voice of Darian Stalwart coming from the fallen mage now speaking with a wide, gaping split in its mouth._

    Sam awoke with a scream of terror.

    Instantly he curled into a ball on the sleeping mat provided by the inn. He wept silently until morning, shaking uncontrollably and rocking back and forth. His sobs were heavy with greif.

    It was all a dream. Just a dream he tried to tell himself. But the similarity to the night's events and the realism of the faces and voices mixed in the dream gripped his heart like a cold gauntleted hand inside him.

    Images of everyone he had known in his life, Brother John, David Stalwart, and all of his friends he had made in his lifetime haunted him behind his closed eyelids. The haunted him, because they were all dead.

    They haunted him for the remaining hours before dawn.

    "STOP!" He stood and gripped his head tightly, as if to squeeze out the visions in his mind.

    He stumbled out of the inn room, eyes red and puffy, fiercely eager for the feel of bright sunshine on his face.


  • NEW ENTRY

    I wonder which of them, a choice between Ms Jenna, Ms Khaya and Mr Cehul, blessed me. Since the other day when I goaded the well to end my existence, failing of course, I have had unprecedented success!

    It is as if suddenly, due course had been paid, my trials completed and fate has determined that I am here to stay.

    Last night I attempted and succeeded at something that four days ago I would have shuddered to even think about. I went out the north gate and routed every bandit I could find just to the north. There were many- as if the militia never patrolled the area! And they hid in every cranny of terrain they could. But as I owe so many citizens for helping me, I thought perhaps the first way I could repay them would be to keep the Nars pass free of their brigandry.

    I did not give them a chance to depart. Instead I snuck upon those that wear their colors and hurled my axes with deadly accuracy, those that did not flee were smitten. Allbeit it was a difficult task for me, which left me tired, weak and somewhat wounded from the exertion, but I succeeded.

    When I awoke this morning, before I dressed I noticed that with all of this effort I am visibly stronger- a bit leaner, and I can shoulder a heavier bag of goblin's clubs today.

    My old skill with herbs is returning as the leaves become more and more familiar to me. I have succeeded in saving six lives since I nearly gave up my own.

    It is apparent to me that my equipment is shoddy however. This banded mail is functional, but I have the strength to wear plate and must aquire some if I expect to fair decently against these brigands in the future. It was a near thing against them several times. I also require a larger shield so that I may hide behind it when groups of them come upon me.

    Most disturbingly, I need a new hand and a half sword. It is my chosen weapon, but alarmingly to me it will not harm the were-creatures running about. This very nearly cost Ms Scutum her life when a were-creature attacked her and I could do nothing to it save distract it from its attacks.

    Having made trips to Peltarch, I know these things are beyond my means. So I have come to the decision that I will appeal to the militia, even though those within their ranks demonstrate cruelty and injustice daily and I do not wish to be associated with them. I have made my opinions known to them as well, and this may not work for my favor.

    My reputation among the people may aid me however. I can only hope that those that know me support my petition to join the militia, for they know that I would bear the authority with fairness. I have been a guard in the past, it should not be a stretch, and perhaps I can teach the zealots a thing or two of compassion and fairness.

    If I am accepted into the militia, it will greatly enhance my ability to patrol the Nars pass and keep those damned brigands, the same ones that killed Ms Safi, Ms Nour and Mr Malek, in check. Their acts most certainly have sown the seeds of justice and it is time they reap it. And they shall, even if I am to meet them dressed in hand-me-down armor and a rusted blade.

    Last night was just a taste of the vengeful fire that comes to them for killing my innocent friends. I ventured further north with Mr Emerus and I know that those zealots, the ones they call Faithful, are still beyond me, but not for long. As soon as I am able, the faith of these Faithful will know a great test.

    Whether I patrol the north, keeping the Nars safe, or I patrol south in the goblin woods safeguarding our youths, I will make my presence known in these places, and lives shall be saved, for a new protector has arrived.

    In a few months there shall no doubt be a large population in Norwick that owes their lives to Sam, as there is one wizard halfling that already does. What an embarrassment to the militia if Sam still wears this tattered armor and poor quality sword, yet dares to regularly tread north to save lives outside the town, while the 'real' militia chases barbarians who wont take off a helm or wizards who walk in the company of a dog. What a further embarrassment when Sam must explain that the militia terrorizing the citizens in the town, refused Sam, forcing Sam to do a job they do not.

    Just yesterday, a militia member demanded Mr Meroido get rid of his dog. Now this dog was loyal, disciplined and only left his side to kill stray goblins that got too close. But this was EVIL!? It would seem that the goblins had an ally in this militiawoman. Evil is as evil does, and blood or color of clothing do not make a man.

    When will the militia finally learn to see with their hearts and not their eyes?

    Answer: If Sam is a member, they will.

    If Sam is accepted, perhaps I can restore the people's broken faith in the militia to protect them.

    And if accepted, when next Ms Scutum searches for belladonna to help the whole of Norwich, I will be able to protect her this time.


  • hugs You are awesome Sam. Really you are.


  • God forbid I actually reach level 7 with him and have access to the minimun # of feats and stats it takes to RP him correctly.

    No matter HOW many times Sam gets killed off (lets see, we are on Samson v 7.0 now?) He will come back.

    hark!? Is that an audible groan from the DM's?

    All of the Xyrastalis refugees may have quit the server, but Dammit! I am mightier than this server!! You people are going to be FORCED to RP with Sam in your environment- even if you all are level 20 and Im still level 1!

    (lets just say I dont actually ROLEPLAY sam's stubborness eh?)


  • This is great stuff Sam. You have taken the loss and rather than quit, have turned it into a character altering event. I applaud your efforts and your writing.


  • NEW ENTRY

    As with everything else in this awful place, even the magic of the well would not favor me. It seems it is quite happy acting up of its own accord and killing those that would not wish to die, but woe be to those that wish it to end their existence, for it will not cooperate.

    I would have thrown myself into the well, but damn my size, I do not fit into it!!!

    Instead I kicked it, cursed at it and begged it on fallen knee to finish me once and for all. Like every other attempt I have made in this cursed town, I failed. I could not even evoke a spark of wrath from it.

    I rested against it, tired of living. Tired of expending myself in efforts where the fruits of my labors are meaningless.

    I am not sure if Ms Jenna is a blessing or a curse. I am not sure if Mr Cehul is a blessing or a curse. Together they sat with me and listened as I recanted the sum of my troubles since arriving here. I still tried to anger the well into consuming me, but it still would not listen. Instead only Mr Cehul and Ms Jenna would listen. Even Ms Khaya came to listen. Together the group of them would not just let me be alone to die. They would not grant me peace.

    Instead they seem to think I should continue living. They say Sam has a purpose and a reason to go on, but for the life of me I cannot think what it could be. I am only a liability anymore. Who can I help when I cannot even help myself?

    Together they gave me the means to support myself again, and in fact replaced many of the belongings which had been stolen from me. But I am still left with the abilities of a youth. My hands shake nervously when I even handle a bag of medicine, as if I had not ever saved a single life in my many days. How can I ever hope to aid another life when I subsist soley on the mercy of others.

    Something shall keep me alive. Long enough to see repayment of the treacherous deeds inflicted upon me in my haste to aid you two young women. If anything, Sam has a long memory Ms Elrien. Your first act of kindness to a stranger is far outweighed by the injustice of you and your friend.

    I shall live to see the day when you too are fallen, and then I shall take YOUR gold, and the belongings of your 'friend' to repay the kindness of those who aided me at the well.

    Some said that you had a kind heart. Sam sees differently. The influence of your friend sways you in a direction that belies what those around you may believe.

    As much as greif desires that I act as you both did, selfishly, and scorn another in their time of need, I shall NOT!! I will not inflict your acts on another; I will continue to help those that I can, however I can. But know that I will live for the day when I see your faces, forever stained in my mind, bloodied and in need of MY kindess and I shall return your favor to your tenfold. From your loss on this world Sam will take what is yours and use it to aid others.

    I know much of justice. I was empowered by Tyr himself in the past to meter it out. I was a judge, elected by the citizens of a town because of their faith in what lies in my heart! I know fairness and compassion and I WILL see that it is given to those that derserve it… and WITHELD from those that dont!

    I shall see that when fate finally serves you both justice, Sam is there to ensure that you receive it fairly. Not by my hand will I do this, no... that would be revenge, and Sam does not meter such or stoop so low. No... let fate take you and Sam shall merely ensure that justice is served.

    It would pain Ms Jenna to see Sam be malicious to another, as you were to me. So I will continue to live as is my nature, and the nature that those around me know and expect.

    But Sam's list of enemies grows long. There are now several names written on the back of this book. And what does it take to become Sam's enemy? Only for Sam to witness cruelty at your hand.

    GO AHEAD! ALL YOU CITIZENS OF NARFELL!! Live cruely. Inflict your jealousness, selfishness, and hatred upon each other! If Ms Jenna and the others want Sam to live this cruel land of Narfell then Sam will Live allright! And wherever I find cruelty I shall repay it- ten fold! Where ever I find selfishness, I shall find a theif to reward you, and I shall pay him for his success! Wherever I find hatred, I shall find a greater hate and bring it to you, so that you may savor the sweetness of contempt, the fullfillment of mockery, the jubilations of defeat!

    In my life, wherever I have invested the goodness in my heart, I have failed. If I cannot survive on the merits of my compassion then I perhaps I must live wholly differently.

    Where I have loved, I have always lost.

    Where I have hated, I have always succeeded.

    So perhaps I must change. Perhaps I must reacquaint myself with my orcish kin to find the means within me to live like this.

    I know I renounced it long ago, that I was not an orc. That I was more than just an orc, a being bent on destruction, hatred of life and inflicting misery. Perhaps I have lived my life as a lie. Perhaps I have never been capable of a life as a human. So perhaps I must accept what I am, an orc and evil at heart. And instead of being human with a taint, I am orcish, yet I still have a taint. So my taint shall be that I am incapable of crimes against the unworthy. But beware those I feel no compassion for, for I have lived a LIFELONG lesson of cruelty, and am become its master.

    The difficulties of Narfell, compounded by the loss of his longtime, compassionate friends and a lack of a divine influence to keep him on the straight and narrow begin to change Sam in a way that he is loath to accept

    (once again.. level 1, but this time Samson Swarthout progresses as a changed man. Will PC's be able to restore Sam's faith in the side of the light? Or will he continue to turn away from it?)
    Isnt True Neutral Alignment grand?


  • NEW ENTRY

    This land is a curse!!! I was keeping the goblin masses in check, when I came across two women who ventured further south! Now I have had many many warnings from the more senior citizens of Norwick not to proceed to the south and so I called after them to stop but they were too far ahead of me.

    I ran after them, having never been so far south myself and unsure of what to expect. But when I did catch up with them, they were locked ina brutal fight with several bugbears. One of the ladies took a serious blow and she staggered back. I fired twice with my bow, but my aim has never been legendary. The bugbear took after her to smite her, and I placed myself between them to save her.

    All I can say is, bugbears in this land are NOT like the bugbears I am used to. I saw the axe come at me, and then blackness. Ah yes… I had been sent to another plane. I fumed angrily, but hoped that my efforts had not been in vain, perhaps giving the lady precious seconds of life to recover herself. But no... as most of my deeds in this cursed land, my efforts WERE in vain, as she appeared next to me.

    I recognized her then, as Ms Elrien. She had given me directions to various locations on my first day in Norwick. I had told her then I would not forget her actions that day, I did not know that I would be trading my life for hers down the road. But alas it was not quite a trade, for she had fallen as well.

    I asked her if her remaining friend would be able to take care of us, but she acted strange, as if knowing something I did not. She said her friend... Tam something? was 'different.' Quite alarming for someone wishing to return to the land of the living.

    As it turns out, my gold had been stolen and this friend of Elrien used it to return her to the living. I dont know if Elrien took my gold or not but I know that I had 1305 when I fell.

    Left alone in the fugue, pondering my existence, I decided I had no choice but to make a deal with the succubus who finds her pleasure in stripping some of the soul from those who are lost.

    I ran naked directly to where I had fallen and encountered this woman, who, when caught red handed returned some of my belongings... it would seem she returned only what she could not find a use for. My weapons, potions, medicines, and gold were not among them.

    Enlisting the aid of two others, I went after what might be left in by bag. Oh, sweet injustice. As if their lack of compassion were not enough, they had drug this hellacious bugbear behind them and I ran headlong into it's axe. The goblin's looked on with jealous anticipation, happy to see a mighty bugbear defending them for a change.

    I made a final deal with the succubus again, knowing full well that I had nothing left to recover, and the heinous fiend sucked the last of my strength from me. I once again was returned to the well in Norwick with only rags to cover me.

    Depression? Yes. My friends from Xyrastalis are all dead, I have no companionship left to me. I have lost all of my strength. All of my personal wealth. I am left with nothing. I have become nothing.

    This is my final enty. I will taunt this well until it consumes me with it's fire, for there is nothing left for me to live for. I will not become a beggar and a drain on this city. My life has been spent in service to others, and I cannot fathom a life holding out my hand for the pity of others.


  • NEW ENTRY
    Nothing left. Am I to outlive all those that should outlive me?
    Ms Safi and Nour were found dead in the Nars, their bodies beyond any aid.
    The Paladin Malek Terebrae also has fallen. It would seem now that I am alone in this forsaken country. This place was only bearable by the presence of my friends. Now… there is nothing of worth here. I exist why? To watch so many whose lives should extend long beyond my own be snuffed out by the chaotic forces of evil and horrible circumstance.

    Im going back to bed and not coming out until my money runs out.
    The only good news is Mr Fallon has arrived, but we were never close he and I. Never have had a rogue for a friend. But at least there is one face that is familiar.

    There are others here that I have begun to take notice of.

    Ms Jenna- a wonderful soul, one I would spend more time with if she were not so darned busy all the time

    Mr Kanen- a paladin, kind, but surrounded by a circle of friends which I am not a part

    Ms Lilli- something oddly familiar about that woman that draws me to be her friend and I dont know why

    Ms Shyrae- poor girl. Her mind does her no justice. I beleive is inflicts pain on her just to experience it. She is often scared or in tears and I have no idea why. Ms Lilli will not discuss it.

    Ms Khaya- I believe I will find a good friend in her. We seem to get along well anyway.

    Mr Stealth- Strange elf indeed, but generous to others. It seems he makes something of a living escorting people back and forth between the towns.

    Mr Damarl- a chaotic drunkard, unreliable in the best of times, but when circumstances are their most dire, I would have him with me.

    Mr Bruno- shares my blood, and as much as I detest our lesser halves, he seems likeable enough. But trust? I will never trust our kind, whether it be half blooded, quarter blooded, it does not matter. The vileness of our taint is forever.

    Ms Scutum is ever cheerful and always a joy to see. I wish little Tisha was here. Ms Scutum makes me miss her all the more.

    Mr Ashen- has proved most helpful, but there is somethink darkly familiar about him that prevents my trust, when I know that his deeds should have earned it. I cannot place it, but it is alarmingly familiar.

    Perhaps amongst these I shall have to find friends anew, as all of mine seem to now be dead. Im going back to bed. Wake me when my purse is empty.


  • **sorry was meant to be a pm to sam delete if can 😜 **


  • NEW ENTRY
    There is a well in town that causes much trouble with some form of magic within it. Strange things happen in this town often. It randomly teleports us, sometimes feet, sometimes miles away. It can even kill with its eruptions. I dont see why people even sit at the benches near it.

    NEW ENTRY
    The goblins dont carry much wealth but after so many, I had enough gold to warrant a trip to Peltarch to purchase a better shield. I went with a large group that also wanted to shop there.

    We made it to Peltarch without much trouble, but the citizens there are as rude as the guards in Norwich! They demanded I cover my face. Oh my, imagine my surprise at yet another, "you are ugly" comment.

    Mr Ashen gave me a helm to wear which pacified them, but their laws seem unjust and discriminatory. I shopped in peace, got my tower shield and prepared to leave. Peltarch is just another scum of the earth town where evil and corruption is allowed to fester and grow. I sensed from the other citizens that even the holy leaders have fallen from grace by the worldly temptations of that place.

    I am beginning to think Jiyyd would be a better home. Away from the discriminations of Peltarch, and the chaotic dangers of Norwich. Jiyyd is quiet and remote and there is at least one person there that would be glad to see me daily.

    So now I sit by the gates waiting for my traveling companions to return. It has been some time, and I suppose they are living it up in some tavern somewhere. As if I could waltz in order an and ale and what… remove my helm to drink it!? Gods forbid I scare someone.

    NEW ENTRY
    On the return from Peltarch I was severely wounded by a fire archer. They look just like bandits until their flaming arrow lodges in your body, and then, it is too late to escape them.

    Luckily I recovered from that fairly well, only to be taken down by them the next day while defending a fortification being built on the outskits of town. The Peltarch government saw to my medical needs, but the experience leaves me in a dire state of disrepair. I grow weaker and weaker every day it seems. Im going to spend a little money and stay in bed for a time.


  • NEW ENTRY

    We have arrived! They say this is the land of Narfell.
    Whatever it is, I am now a registered citizen of a town called Norwich and the caravan departs in a few minutes. I bought a book in which to write. My old loose papers show the wear of time.

    Perhaps I will find where everyone went to. I was asleep on the ship when we arrived and everyone must have departed in their haste, but left me no clues as to their whereabouts.

    NEW ENTRY
    Arrived in Norwich. No one I know is here. I met a nice halfling, Ms Scutum. Earned a few coins helping her chop trees and carry the logs. Easy work, but doesnt yield much coin. I fear she gave me more than she should have. She reminds me alot of Ms Tisha, which is odd because normally halflings annoy the hells out of me. Well meaning usually, if they arent theives, but just so…. hyper. Well if she is any indication of the citizens here, I should be well off.

    NEW ENTRY
    DOWN WITH THE GUARDS! This town has the most horrible contingent of guards I have ever encountered. It is a pack of Dwarves, very stout, who manage a sentence or two of threats before they pull their axes and speak in swings.

    I went out of the north gate to explore the surroundings and was immediately set upon by a theif! Lacking a weapon or armor, I had no choice but to defend myself against him and his short sword. Unpleasant as it was I beat him senseless with my hands. Blessing and a curse, this strength of mine it seems.

    Angry at him, I took his belongings and wore his armor into town as a sign to others that I do not wish to be trifled with. I am getting too old to run around like a child. It would be better to die than to continue living afraid of others. Perhaps my experiences have given me new confidence. I know now that I can succeed on my own, given a chance! The hard part is getting that chance.

    A guard approached me and told me to remove my armor almost as soon as I entered town. I refused. The padding was the sum total of my wealth and I had very nearly been killed by the man that wore it! With my refusal however, the dwarf drew his axe and swung at me. Stout buggers. The blow nearly knocked me down, but he backed away as if to give me a chance to rethink my position. I dont know what his problem was, but it most likely had nothing to do with the armor. I told him where he could go and walked out the southern gate to examine my injuries.

    Later that same day, I walked into town, wearing clothes this time. I saw another one of these malicious dwarves litterally hacking up a body in the street! I cannot express the anger I felt! How dare these creatures be granted the power of authority and be called a militia! I ran to the body and hefted it out of the way of the dwarf's axe just before he cleaved an arm off. I have no idea who this person was or what they did to deserve being killed in the streets, but perhaps the dwarf didnt like the color of his armor as well.

    Once again I was ordered to do something I had no intention of doing.
    "Put it down, Halfer." They said.
    I was angry that they would show such brutality in the streets, and then when I show mercy to the fallen, the bastards had the gall, even in the eyes of a small crowd to resort to threats, names and violence. I didnt see the one that got me from behind, but I woke up in jail.

    It took long hours of arguing, but I would rather rot in jail for defending someone than live life free knowing I did nothing to help the helpless. Eventually they released me. I dont know why they detest 'Drow' so much, but I still consider it a crime to attack someone for their blood. I cannot help what runs through my own veins as much as anyone else can help theirs. I heard from the townsfolk later that this 'Drow' had done nothing more than walk down a street in this town where he was ambushed and killed by these sickeningly cruel dwarves.

    I cannot abide them, but there are too many, and they are too strong to do much with. Life for them here must be easy, they are in excellent shape and proficient fighters. If not for recovering from my own wounds from the Horde, I am sure I could teach them the meaning of fairness and mercy.

    The townsfolk here talk about them often, they too are disgruntled at their violence and cruel natures. They herd the populace like cattle, speaking to them like dogs.

    NEW ENTRY
    Ive found Ms Safinaz, Ms Nourjehan and Mr Malek Terebrae the paladin. I see them often and it is refreshing to see familiar faces, even if they do appear a bit gaunt from the recent stresses.

    NEW ENTRY
    The goblins in the south are a menace, their soldiers seem to predict my actions and counter me with startling precision. Apparently I am not the only one. The resident healer came to the square asking for help finding herbs necessarry to keep his healing stores up. In fact, the healer approached me personally as he heard me discussing herbs with some others. Naturally, I agreed to help a man who is in service to others.

    We were to travel to Jiyyd to fetch some roots and belladonna for him. One of these insidient town guards, another dwarf, insinuated himself into our party and placed himself 'in charge' of the expedition. He was an able fighter, surely, but his brash nature and demands of do this do that were certainly unwelcome.

    We arrived in Jiyyd and went to the local healers to see what stores they had. One of my blood greeted us... I believe she greeted me more warmly than the rest. Her demeanor was... fresh, in the politest of terms. She told us she too was out of these same herbs but knew where we could find some, and asked us to return some to her if we could. I hadn't the heart to tell her no.

    We stretched on to the east and encountered orcs. Something about orcs, they fall easily to my hands. I dont believe they defended the roots we sought exactly, just their hatred for all life other than their own. Their sentiments were returned in kind however and we left their bodies to rot in the sun. We found enough for Norwich, but I encouraged the group onward to fulfill my pledge to Jiyyd to provide them with what they needed.

    I would have done it alone, but Ms Safi and Nour, bless them, they would follow me wherever I go. The dwarf naturally, cretins that they are proving to be, wanted to return to Norwich and collect his payment. Begrudged he continued with us until we had enough for both cities.

    We returned to the Jiyyd healer and the task 'fell' to me, much to the amusement of the others, to deliver the items to the woman in the healers hut. I cannot tell you how much this pained me, I was torn between the desire to accept another's attention, but at the same time Nara is still so close to my heart and it has been such a short time since I lost her. I still dont even know if she survived or if her beloved body lies - the writing stops abruptly

    I cannot even think it.

    I pushed away from the woman's attentions, and I sensed that it hurt her. Perhaps she is indeed a sweet being with a gentle heart, but so am I and my heart has no place for her. Her or any other for that matter. Perhaps in time that will change, but perhaps also in time, I will find my Narawien again, even if her love was never returned to mine.

    Enough of that, I can sob myself silly some other time. We retuned to Norwich, collected a modest payment for our efforts. As much as doing good deeds is important to me, I accepted the payment knowing that in the future I will have to purchase those same healing supplies that we risked our lives against orcs for to save others in need.

    Now as I recall our adventure today, I can hardly tear my mind from the thoughts of Nara, wondering where she is and if she's allright. And my heart beckons me to wonder if I did not shun a good person based on her blood, or the true feelings of my heart?


  • A new chapter opens now.

    No one knows who was responsible or how it happened. The city fell.
    Sam was caught in the forsest by the Iron Horde and fought their vanguard in the night with a strength once again not his own.

    The mighty fighter defended his people, their homes, his city and his love. In the next few hours Samson Swarthout lived as the epitome of a follower of Torm.

    The Loyal, the Foolish, the Brave.

    For Sam's loyalty to his city and his friends, his foolish disregard for his safety while opposing an army, and his bravery as he fought them in a retreating battle to the gates of the city, Torm lent his power to Sam that night.

    Torm had always been the god that Sam most closely followed in his personaly beleifs, but he had always been in the service of Helm, or Tyr and had little time to consider Torm. Perhaps if Sam had learned of him at a young age, he might have become a Paladin of Torm, but those young impressionable days were long past.

    Sam did not have the faith required, but he still had the heart.

    The sheer number of the scouts was overwhelming and Sam found himself trading ground for time. The battle began about two miles from the gates of the city, and within an hour, as Sam had vowed, he found his back to the closed city gates, bloody sword in hand, as the sole defender in the night. His predictions had come true, the Horde had come for what they truly wanted and diplomacy was long gone as an option.

    He could see the edge of the forest across the farmland explode with thousands of orcs. It would only take them seconds to reach the last remaining scouts that had encircled Sam, pinning him to the city gate. There was no escape now, the gate was not openable from the outside at night.

    As Sam leaned his tired body a moment on the gates, he paused for a moment of rest before he threw himself into the army, to kill in a rage as many as he could before they overwhelmed him.

    Suddenly, the gates opened behind him and he fell backwards into the city. He was drug inside quickly and the gates rebarred again. The lights were out, and he could hear yelling in the distance. The alarm had been sounded for some time.

    "Come, Sam! We are evacuating the city!"

    Sam felt weak a moment. Where would they go? He rose and followed his friends in the dark, unsure of who they were in the darkness and there was no time to ask. There seemed to be a group of twenty carrying very little rushing towards the docks.

    They had only covered a a few blocks before the mighty east gate was shattered by the Horde's battering ram. How quickly they had gotten it to the front. Even as Sam delayed the advance of the scouts, the army proper had caught up and was literally on their heels.

    The orcs poured into the city like water, encompassing the blocks of the city like ants in a nest. Soon nearly thirty were chasing the last few escapees. When they reached the docks, the mooring lines were being cast off and the sails were already unfurled and full. Archers on the deck provided cover as a mage sent his most powerful spells into the midst of the attackers.

    Sam heard the pounding of feet right behind him and whirled, cutting an orc in half at the waist and wounding the one to his left in a single slice. Sam looked up the dock and could see yet another mass charging.

    "Come, Sam! Jump!" Sam turned to see the ship pulling away from the dock. He ripped off his helm, dropped his sword and sprinted for the edge of the dock. As he did, he unfastened the leather straps holding the heaviest peices of his armor and let them clatter in a trail of pieces behind him. When Sam cried out with the exertion of his leap to the ship, he had only his gauntlets and leggings left to him. His bag, weapons, supplies and gold were all left behind on the dock.

    With his possessions, he left behind his one and only love, never knowing if she was alive or dead. Had she been found in the forest? Would she be able to find her own escape? It seemed to Sam, as he watched the dock fill with victorious orcs, that he had abandoned his whole life on that dock.

    One again, Samson Swarthout had lost everything and become a wandering refugee bound for an unknown destination.

    Sam looked around him. He saw Eva Saints, Malek Terebrae, Nourjehan, Safinaz, Tisha Skittlesworth, and Ther Adams. Perhaps others had left on the other ships he thought as he slipped down against the railing. Soon he was in a saddened dreamworld as fatigue took him.

    And that…. is how Samson Swarthout, Judge of Xyrastalis and Honorary Member of the Orders of Helm and Tyr, came to the land of Narfell.

    (any questions?)


  • NEW ENTRY
    Nara found me easily. Not surprising that she could. She said she came to speak to me, to discourage me from what I am trying to do. It pains me to go against her wishes, but I cannot reveal that what I do, I do to save her and so many other worthy souls.
    Even as she spoke with me, she nestled down to hide from them, and well that she did, for as I hid, a party of gatherers came and I slew them. One survived, but would not answer my questions despite the breaking of his bones. I had to slit his throat. If he had returned to his group, he would have spoken of the encounter, and Nara would have been in danger. They would hunt her, as they do me. It pained me to see the revulsion on her face as I did this, but it was necessary to protect her, and everyone else.
    Shades arrived soon after, and I had to flee from them. The looks they gave me, the words they spoke, strike the strength of my convictions, robbing me of the will to continue. I do so desire peace, I desire to have the company of others, but I repulse them now, they see only an orc bent on killing. They do not understand . I left them in the woods so that they would not be branded as criminals by being seen with me.
    Shortly after, Connacht arrived and he too called out for me in the woods, to recall me. I hid as best I could, so that they would just leave, but they waited foolishly, calling loudly through the woods. I dont know what all they spoke of, but suddenly from the trees swooped down nearly 20 of the Horde. They surrounded Nara, Shades and Connact, and meant to kill and silence them for even discussing the option of opposing their plans. I killed many of the Horde in the defense of those who I still call friend.
    Together, I thought, we felt that we had done so much damage that we may as well press on and finish it, but the Iron Horde had Minogons which fell upon us. I cannot help but feel that had we fared better against the minogons, lying just past would have been the last of the Horde, and in reaching them, killing them, this would have all been over.
    Connact carried my body back to the temple where I was restored.
    Even though, an hour before, everyone felt it necessary to continue the fight, I was berated in the temple for waging this war. Nara's words cleaved my heart, and it still bleeds freely today. I have not the strength to fight the Horde today should they find me. Let them kill me.
    I am again in the forest. More alone now than ever before.

    NEW ENTRY
    Sarakar knows now. I returned to town for supplies and a moments rest in the inn, and she surpised me. I managed to subdue her and escape, but have a wonderful pain in my face to accompany the pain in my heart. I am too tired to enter into conflict with her. Perhaps it would have been better if she had simply cut my heart out and been done… but alas, I feel most of my heart lies rotting on the temple floor, carved to pieces by the daggers of Nara's words.

    NEW ENTRY
    The gathering parties are larger now. I let one pass by, there were too many. I heard them speaking, there are hundreds of them nearby now. How badly they desire to enter the city. Their deceiving plan may not work, and then the full force of their army shall be revealed to everyone. How unfortunate that so few seem concerned by this.
    I returned to town to have my equipment tended to by the master armsman. Indeed the chaotic events of the city unfold daily. I spoke with many people. Sarakar and I were forced to work together to stem the tide of creatures flowing from some magic portal, Oh yes.. and we spoke bitterly to each other for nearly two hours, but our need for each other at the portal I think is the only reason we both are still alive.
    Malek and I dispensed a little justice to a small dispute where I acted as judge.
    Father Terent rarely speaks to me anymore. I wonder if he too abhors the war quietly fought in the forests.
    Oddly enough, Ms Moni, my first friend in this forsaken city arrived recently, but only for a short visit . It was so good to see her again, and she seems to have selected Mr Lux as the object of her affections. If I survive I shall indeed be proud to attend their union.
    Tisha is always her friendly self, but I sometimes wonder if she even knows or cares about the army, waiting silently out there for its opportunity to strike at our heart.
    I explained my thoughts on the Horde's plan to Kzerza. He looked to be as if he had never considered that Sarakars orcs would be capable of such treachery, but after all, they DO worship BANE! Kzerza apologized for his actions and said he would speak to Sarakar. It was little consolation. If he truly believed, he would be with me now in the woods as I take pause to write this.

    Other than the dance so long ago, there is only one joy I can write about:
    I have been asked by one (who shall remain unwritten in case I am killed, to protect his wishes to remain unknown) to assist him in becoming an elf. He heard of my desire to do so and came swiftly to me pledging his help. Thanks be to Mr Sunar, who claims he has found an answer to our prayers.
    We need the blood of a doppleganger or a mimic and the blood of one of the desired form before he can attempt it. If only there was more time. Perhaps if I tell ... the one whose name I cannot reveal... he somehow can come up with these things. As much as I want this for myself, I am stuck in these woods until something finally breaks with the Horde.

    With the immediate dangers in the city quelled, I now return to the forest. The Horde is close, and I fear their patience thin. No one can control them and it seems we are powerless to stop them.

    This is the final entry


  • NEW ENTRY
    small drops of blood drip from the writers hand onto the page, mixing with the fresh ink
    A small wound, and they will soon smell it. I must finish this quickly and move before more come in search.
    I let those two float down the river as a sign to the rest… Do not come to this place, death awaits you here. Yet, I fear I cannot win this fight. Years before, I followed the army in their wake, and when they stopped to rest and replenish themselves, I hunted them. Without the divine strength granted me before, I too would have had to rest, but alas Helm's strength allowed me to pick away at the hunters and gatherers until the army was stricken with fear every time they stopped to rest and gather food. It is almost amusing that, to them at the time, I had become an orcish angel of death, to see me in the woods was to know that their time had come to an end. But these of the Iron Horde are very disciplined, and I imagine the luxury of a fear inspiring notion shall not be mine.
    The know exactly who I am, and how I must fight.

    This time, I must stay close to the city, to defend it. I cannot roam freely towards or to the side of the enemy, lest the scouts they send get behind me. They know that I shall ever remain between them and Xyrastalis, even if I am pressed up against the city gate by them, because I must defend it. It is my home. I shall not lose this home, nor my loved ones. Even if I perish, I shall so perish in a manner that I take them with me to the afterlife.

    If only there was a great leader to show me a better way, and lead the people of Xyrastalis to conquer these fiends. Damn you Sarakar! You wish to feel the flex of power at your fingertips as you wield this army for your own desires. But YOU ARE A FOOL!

    the writing becomes hard, under the weight of emotion

    YOU desire to LET them into the city! YOU would call them your FRIENDS! And late some night they will slip from their beds and KILL you in YOURS! They shall blame the citizens for slaying you in your sleep, turning you into a martyr, and then rally the rest of their forces against those that remain. While the citizens look for your murderer, the few orcs inside the city shall silently lift the bars from the gates, destroy the Pedestle and the magic shield, and proudly allow their entire army to slip past the city defenses killing every surprised inhabitant they find.... OH... and THEN! Then their treachery will become evident to you as you observe from the AFTERLIFE! With their army they shall mine VAST amounts of this crystal, and shall SO enchant their armor and weapons as to make them INVINCIBLE! From Xyra they shall invite orcs of all breeds, and bring them into their fold, and granting them great power for which to conquer the world.
    AND YOU WOULD LET THIS HAPPEN! You fool fool girl! You know not the fire with which you play. These are ORCS! Their very blood desires power. There are thousands of them, and even if the leader you so wantonly court pledges his allegiance, those of the orc blood will always follow the strongest leader, and certainly within those thousands shall be a strong one... stronger than your ambassador of peace certainly. You bring doom to us all! I should slay you, but I need you. I need you to keep pledging peace to them, while I whittle them away. And soon they shall turn from you in order to seek me, growing tired of your weak pledges for peace and inability to stop me, and then I shall lead them away, far away from this place. I know should that happen I must give up those closest to my heart, but... at least she will live.

    Sam wages a personal war against the orcs... AGAIN! This time without the aid of a god, 'He Who Lurks in Shadows' returns, this time, older and wiser