Norwick Happenings
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Events and news from the realm of Norwick as scribed by the Chronicler of the Realm, Paprika Riverweed
Goblins Amok!
After awaking in my room at the Grapevine I slipped down to the kitchen where the cook always lets me appropriate a mug of hot tea. I brought it back and let it warm my hands as I sat by the window. I could see the gates and watched as one opened. The man who opened it then struggled to pull a cart through. The cart was rather over laden and I thought it a wonder the wheels didn’t break. After getting it through, he closed the gate and continued on.
Two gates there I thought, and only one needed opening to allow access. But, to prevent access, both were necessary. One gate, and either will do, can swing back and forth simple as salt and folks can come and go as they please. Such is peace and freedom.
But that peace and freedom, it comes at a cost, it does. And when the gates serve their true purpose, both are needed to stand side by side in solidarity. And this, good citizens of Norwick, led my thoughts to the sight of Master Dwin and Commander Devlin returning to the fire last night. Side by side. Solidarity. And they, too, represented the safeguards of our peace. One could go out alone but that could be dangerous. The two of them though, why they became as four. Or ten. Or a battalion!
“Pappy,” Chancellor Dwin said to me in his deliberate way, “Being that the Silver Valley and its hin and gnome folk are part of the Realm of Norwick, we felt it important to make sure it was safe and secure.”
It was a routine venture, I imagine. Or at least they thought it would be.
Master Dwin’s thoughts were like the steel and iron he worked. He bent them to his will. He fired them in the furnace and beat them into shape. If fear or angst started to surface, Master Dwin would seize the thought with mental tongs and, acting as his own striker, pound it into a new shape of resolve courage.
His courage acts as the carbon as he smelts his doubts into the raw ore of his unwavering character. Aye, such a man is Master Dwin.
And may we rest assured that Sir Devlin Desario, Commander of the Norwick Red Cloaks, does not waver either. Oh no, not in the least. But, as we all know, the iron golem looked upon the beauty of fair Laia and his impenetrable skin became flesh. And it was in this way that King Lorgan’s archers took him down. A similar beautiful weakness plagues Sir Devlin.
A love, long lost. Though removed physically, the touch of love is upon him still and, like Master Dwin, it permeates the smithy of Sir Devlin’s heart. All things, once viewed through the lens of love, are viewed differently. Sir Devlin cannot help but look at the fair lasses of Silver Valley and think of his own lost treasure. And it settles his determination to protect these fine people.
Being sensible men of few words they walk. In silence. In their thoughts. In their confidence that their friend will aid them if need be. And then that blessed moment is shattered by primitive howls!
A sea of guttural babble swells around the two valiant men as the grasses come to life!
Goblins! 10? No, 20? No, far more!
Beating their shields with crude swords and clubs to add to the clamor, they race towards our defenders! Some are riding snarling, slavering wolves and these arrive first!
A brief moment, a small avenue of escape, is available, but both of these stalwart men ignore that for the task at hand. As the wolf riders reach them, Master Dwin and Sir Devlin hear another fearsome sound! Above the din are the chants and calls of the goblin magicians!
The very air burned about them as the eldritch energies pulsed and scoured!
“Well bring yehr magicks to bear, evilspawn!” Master Dwin roared. “Twill be a bonus this day to crack yehr bones as well!”
“For my lost love!” cried Sir Devlin as he cleaved a rider in two with a single master stroke. “Were that my heart did not pine for her, but I shall release my anguish upon these vermin!”
“Aye, I am a master craftsman!” bellowed Master Dwin. “As my hammer has fell like rain upon steel and iron, so it shall upon your much softer carcasses!”
“Perhaps I shall one day meet a lass who can recapture my heart!” Sir Devlin became a true poet as his shield slammed thundering soliloquies and his sword slashed bloody sonnets.
“Yehr finding my armor, finely crafted and available at my hall for most reasonable prices, quite impervious, aren’t ye, ye scoundrels!”
“Even I, a man sworn to my duty to Norwick, must admit that if such a lass did come along, twould be a renewal in my heart as a sun rising to thaw the bitter cold!”
“Jes yesterday I was hammering a fine piece of steel into what will be a breastplate fit for kings! Kings, I tell ye! Whimpering, scattering little rats of things, ye are!”
“I try to remain proper, I do! I try not to allow myself the hope of-”
“Devlin.”
“-meeting that one true lass once more! To once again feel the-”
“Devlin!”
“Chancellor?”
“Tis over. The goblins are all dead.”
And so they were. Wave after wave of the goblins had surged forth to break into a bloody froth against their rocky shores. And yet our defenders stood.
And thus they were able to return and report to this chronicler, in their understated, humble way, “Just let it be known that we toured Silver Valley and found all to be quite prosperous, and the people quite friendly.”
All is aright indeed, good sirs. And we thank ye.
Soft Power
I am a bit tired, aye I admit it. My eyes were weary from writing by the firelight. The Grapevine interior is much more hospitable and well-lit. But you don’t catch news and events there as you do out here. So I decided to stick it out a bit more and what a blessing that I did!
A right-sized person came and seated herself upon a near stone. To rest a bit. Then, she took out the most exquisite flute and began polishing it. You could see her care and love for the instrument. I had to remark on it.
She introduced herself as Atel Vai'Sini and said that the flute had been in her family for at least two generations. I couldn’t resist being a bit forward and asking her to play. And, oh but I’m happy I did!
Such beautiful melodies Miss Atel played, you could see the hills and fields and feel the joy. Stirred my heart, she did! I remarked how amazing it was that she could coax so much sound and fury from such a delicate looking instrument.
And Miss Atel said with a chuckle and a sly grin, “Delicate is a good way of describing me as well you could say, but im tougher than i look i promise you that.”
Oh I do love those right-sized folks! Tis a pleasure to know we’re all in the same realm!
Need Spending Coin?
If you catch Mr. Quin Reyer about you may want to ask him if he’s needing any help. He seems to have a good trading business and just last night was offering fifty coin for helping him carry ore. Fifty for tin and fifty for copper.
Not bad wages in this day!
Let me know, please.
If you know of news in Norwick that needs to be known, let me know and I’ll certainly scribe it for you. I’m often at the campfire in Norwick but you can always ask for Paprika at the Grapevine and they’ll pass the message. Or they’ll hand you some ground up bell pepper.
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The Plague In Norwick
When I was little there was an incident in our town involving a man’s cattle. They’d come down with disease and the town men all went to assist the farmer in the cure or kill process. Our area was rural and my family lived further out than most. My ma told my pa that he had plenty of chores to do around our own home rather than take a day’s ride to assist in something that didn’t affect us.
“It dinnae affect us t’present,” my pa said. “But t’will soon enough so may’s well work on it now fore it do.”
Though Peltarch has been hardest hit so far, the good citizens of Norwick know there is no safe boundary. Preparations and precautions are already being taken.
There is evil afoot and we will certainly need to keep our eyes open, our swords sharp and our bows taut.
Commander Devlin and Shannon D'Arneau began the discussion of the plague at the log fire. Shannon voiced the theory that the origin of the plague being with immigrants from the east, and that they’re travels had probably taken them to many places other than Peltarch.
Commander Devlin, ever the voice of reasoned wisdom, advised against placing too much emphasis on rumors. He said, “I'll reserve my judgement on the matter. No point in spreadin' needless panic. We've already taken the precautions needed.”
Commander Devlin also warned against spreading unfounded rumors, “The funny thing is, it isn't the plague at all that people are worried about. It's the people with their jumbled and various stories which instill fear. Sometimes, you can learn much more without speaking.”
Well said, Commander Devlin! But what precautions are those you spoke of? Well Commander Devlin and others recommend boiling your water as the river is most likely contaminated. But that is not the worse news!
“The plague is in the rivers of Norwick. I retrieved a sample of the water myself. I've given the sample to Myeil to investigate. I figured she would be the best candidate to figure out it's properties.”
Commander Devlin further surmised that, since the plague is being spread through the rain that it is most likely magical in nature.
Sir Foiler then surprised me by providing some concise directions for Lady Myeil in her study of the plague. He recommended exposing it to heat and cold and liquids as diverse as ale, tea and urine! Oh I should not enjoy that research. He also recommended, since it seems to be a parasite, to try lightning or electricity to shock it. Sir Foiler also proposed sharp noises and thunder may shock it. This chronicler was quite impressed with sir Foiler’s depth and versatility of fine ideas. It sounded like an excellent approach to understanding this viral enemy.
Sir Foiler further surmised, based on observation of those affected, that the parasite is symbiotic and, while attaining some control does not seem to gain full control over its host.
How Much Protection Is Worth Our Freedom?
This led to a discussion of telling behavior among the infected and the most unsettling idea of stopping all who acted strangely and interrogating them. I voiced some alarm at this and warned that interfering with the sense of peace and freedom the citizens of Norwick enjoyed may do more damage than the plague.
I watched an example soon thereafter as a mister Roland came to the fire, somewhat drunk. He is a friend of Vaen Swiftar, the sorcerer extraordinaire! Commander Devlin and sir Foiler, seeing Roland’s unsteady movements quickly pulled him aside and questioned him.
Ascertaining that Roland was indeed simply slightly inebriated, they allowed him to go about his business, but it was most disturbing, not only to me as an observer but to Mr. Roland as well. He was taken aback and significantly quieter after that. I shouldn’t think but such actions will have a chilling affect on the relaxed peace Norwick currently enjoys.
Ghosts and ghoulies, related to the plague?
Before the plague came up as a topic at the fire tonight, more foulness, possibly related, was discussed.
Cel, the Headmaster of the Spellweavers Academy was approached by Sir Alberon Obarskyr of the Divine Shield regarding an incident in Peltarch. It seems a circle was created on the grounds of the commons by a ritual sacrifice!
When asked about the nature of the sacrifice, Cel did not rule out that it was human!
It was formed of blood and seething with negative energy. Cel surmised a direct link to the feared Halls of Madness! The soon to come presence of allips pointed to this.
And what a battle ensued next! First an unnatural storm seized the commons area with lighting crashing all about! Next, Cel stated, they were assaulted by ghosts, specters and allips beyond count! Wave after wave attacked them! Could such an intense concentration of paranormal evil be related to the plague?
Cel reported that he and his comrades waged quite a pitched battle with the spirit army before they were able to dispel the magic and channel positive energy into the area.
Legionnaire Corporal Yngdír had joined the discussion by that time and had some incisive questions regarding the nature of the beasties. In fact, Yngdir even used the word ‘plague’. He said, “The Cerulean Knight Captain, Seth, has been plagued by spirits in Peltarch.”
Yngdir went on to say, and this is not for the faint of heart, “They speak of madness and murder. They possess wives to murder their families, children - husbands.” Cel listened to this and confirmed that the spirits did echo demonic laughter in their heads.
Mr. Mugwort reported that he saw many ghosts that day in Peltarch, including a small girl who would appear and disappear in the fog. Quite frightening!
Questions About The Legion
A fine proponent of the Legion, Yngdir rattled off the many threats facing us, “Undead are but one problem for the north. Orcs to the west, lizardman war-bands to the east. Bandits to the south, and now a plague of disease within. Pirates in their waters to the north.”
Sir Foiler, a dwarf considered by some to be of dubious merit, was not convinced. After a most confrontational conversation with Yngdir, though this chronicler has never seen sir Foiler with any other attitude, the dwarf concluded that all of these troubles were the fault of the Legion itself!
Well, even I was shocked at this bold accusation. Mayhaps a rash and irresponsible accusation as well, but I shall leave that for wiser minds to consider. For his part, Corporal Yngdir showed remarkable restraint in the face of such remarks. Foiler wasn’t finished though and saved his most sensational remark for last, “Groups that need trouble to exist, may play an active role in creating the trouble itself.”
Well, Corporal Yngdir politely excused himself at that point to solemnly go about the very duties that sir Foiler had just dismissed. Some further digging though revealed that sir Foiler’s distrust of the Legion may stem from past personal experiences. He hinted that the blame for Jiyyd and the lands east lays at the feet of the Legion.
I will definitely attempt to learn more from both Corporal Yngdir and sir Foiler.
A Welcome Return
In a bit of better news, the Lady Nura, formerly of the Emerald Circle mages guild, has returned after an apparent absence. She spoke with sir Cel regarding her re-entry into the Spellweaver’s and is considering speaking further with Cel or Lady Myeil.
Fine Weapons For Sale!
In this time of growing danger, where we face not only goblins and lizard men, but ghosts and plagues, you do well to arm yourself accordingly. Commander Devlin, in obvious understanding of our plight, was making some fine discount deals on his hand crafted weapons, including those of silver! Be sure to look him up to purchase yours.
Paprika Riverweed
Chronicler of the Realm of Norwick
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I am simply stunned… BRAVO! Cant wait to see more!
Made this a Sticky post as well..
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