Garviel, Travelling Healer
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_Bran's been having a tough time, between the situation with Gina, and the fact that Andrea wouldn't speak to him. Probably shouldn't have bothered, but inciting him into violence did seem to fix the latter. Though in turn I'd have to take a slap from the lady, a punch in the jaw, thrown over his shoulder and a head-butt by the bear.
As Einrihch put so well, "It's best not to poke the bear with a stick"
On that note, Einrihch's joined the legion, and was ordered to assist Pugor on his patrols. The half-orc himself is a dervish with that axe of his, bringing down foes with a single blow, and more than often, in a spectacular shower of blood and guts. Paired with Einrihch's flexible sword styles, they make a fine team.
When the time came for another patrol, I didn't think twice to follow, knowing them to be more than a match for the critters out south. Alongside us three came the lady Cara and the Dwarven cleric Vanderkaus. We managed to press deeper into the Hobgoblin territory, where Vanderkaus managed to find the oak wood he was looking for, though his tools gave way sooner than he'd have liked. But other than the occasional spot of odd weather, it was uneventful.
At least, until we decided to make our way back towards the town. We came across an armored figure while trekking through the old Norwick ruins. A familiar feeling was in the air, something was off about the man standing before us. The rest of the group seemed to sense the same, raising their weapons at the ready. Pugor was the first to walk up ahead, his course abruptly cut short when blades burst up from the ground, marking a clear divide between us and the lone figure.
It was obvious that our small group stood no chance against this new foe. Instead, Vanderkaus stepped forward with his holy symbol, demanding the enemy to begone. The self introduced "adventurer" merely laughed, confirming the fact he was no undead. He was another of the Talonans, charged with the duty to safeguard the "Ladies of Disease". Several of which have already fallen, one that I was witness of. He calmly warned us, that if any folk were to one again disrupt their activities, he would be quick to pass out said judgement.
I had then moved to leave, thinking it over and done with. But the adventurer had singled me out, apparently he had known of the previous incident with the priestess and my part in it. Bidding me to move closer, I did so with some manner of caution. He removed his helm then, the look of careless confidence on his features. I was too busy matching his gaze to notice his arm coming outwards at my head, dark magic gathering along it.
What happened next is hard to describe, as all manner of sickness hit me then. Constantly battering at my body's defenses until I finally succumbed to its effects. As sick as I was feeling then, an unnatural strength came with it, so much that I could probably have beaten Bran in a fist fight right then and there.
The Talonan left then, leaving us again with the grim warning. The group of us continued our way back towards Norwick. I did my best to keep a distance from my companions, knowing full well I might pass whatever it was I was inflicted with. Before returning within eyesight of the gates, I dealt with the disease best I could, with both spells and herbal concoctions I had with me.
As much as it would be wise to avoid the Talonan activities, it does not sit well with me, being a healer, to watch without protest. Consulting with my companions, we thought it best to alert those who could stand up against such forces. Perhaps the Legion or the Circle…_
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_I was sitting by the southern gates when a sudden bellow cut through the air, as if a beast was in pain. Being the only one about at the time, I decided against my better judgement to investigate on my own. As I walked further south, it became apparent that the cries were once again from the middle of the lake. At the time I had my suspicions that perhaps it was the work of goblins and their kin.
Arriving within sight of the lake, I could immediately tell something was amiss. A sickly yellow mist hovered about the central isle, and the cries of a large beast continued. Adventurers had seemingly already arrived, or at least there was a red wyrmling busy in battle with goblins.The gathering party garnered the attention of the goblins pouring out from the mists, I watched while they did their best to fend them off. During the battle my hand was forced as one of the goblins, looking to be far meaner and well equipped went charging after Soliel. Her panther companion rushed in to protect her… She still carries that loss with her even now as I write this.
I kept my distance, observing as Brendel soon joined in the fray, but took too many a blow. Thankfully, Soliel and I were close enough to be of assistance. This being the second time I've kept one from dying by the accursed lake, I hope not to make it a habit.
The few who crossed the bridge and onto the isle were confronted with a priest of Talona. One of whom I was familiar with, having been in her presence back when Adriell had managed to talk her down. The bellowing cries that had drawn us here belonged to a bulette, this being the first I've managed to see up close. As I had suspected, the yellow mist was a danger, causing folk to take ill, coughing and hurling their guts.
Looking to the group then, I knew the initial exchange of sentences were merely a formality, the want of blood being foremost in mind. The priest was a formidable foe, wielding her halberd with deadly proficiency. Brendel went down first, taking the brunt of her blows. Apollo charged in without a second thought, faith and courage being his constant companion. Zarius casted spell after spell, fire, acid, magic, anything it would have taken to finally bring her down. All the while, I stood to the side, wondering if there was any other alternative.
There was hardly anything left of the priest when I got to her side, thinking perhaps I could save her life. A foolish notion as I was shoved aside and screamed at by Soliel.
The red wyrmling shifted back to her elven form, and alongside Soliel walked over to the bulette, perhaps to calm it or some such, I didn't stay to watch. Instead there was still the matter of the mist and disease to be dealt with, and I knew the spells that would be required. All I required was some peace and quiet for the concentration required.
The timely arrival of the local shaman had him in the middle of a ritual by the time I returned. Being in a foul mood, I could hardly care as I casted my spells, summoning the winds to be rid of the mist, causing most of the unprepared folk to lose their footing in the process. Ignoring their response, I dealt with the diseased and quickly took my leave.
Soon after that, Brendel was brought to the temple in Norwick, where he was raised, and looked to be a little shaken over the ordeal. And after what I've said to Soliel then, I doubt we'd be any closer than strangers from this point onwards.
Gods, I'm too exhausted to care._
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_It's not all that often that I find myself walking within Oscura, usually it's to restock on certain items that are only available thanks to the trade down by the docks. With the recent events between Apollo and Alidor, I made sure to give the temple a wide berth as I made my way through the town. Recent talk would have folk gathering by the Shiny Coppers in wait for work. Andrea was there, Bran most naturally being nearby, akin to a protective guardian, ever watchful, ever ready to rage at the next thing he didn't like…
Andrea's perpetually in tears, cowering in fear in normal circumstances. I have a rough idea what misfortune had befallen her, during her talk with Alexi, but I don't see how her demeanor could change so dramatically in combat. Always being the first to charge in recklessly and getting herself seriously injured in the process. Ein and I have advised Bran on teaching her the ways of battle, but we both have reason to fear that she would be the cause of his death one day. But I rarely speak of such aloud now, as Bran would most certainly direct his anger and muscle towards me.
Bran had me escort her towards the inn, where I came across several more familiar faces, that of Jeremy, Alexi, Val, amongst those I have yet to be introduced to. A man by the name of Francesco arrived soon after, describing the work that was to be done. It seemed simple enough, he required additional hands to help dig a number of tunnels past the fish men. I minded my own drink in hand, only signalling that I too would go with the group.Val did most of the talking, as she commanded a certain air of respect, shortly taking command of the eight of us. All the while Jeremy kept up with his usual quips alongside a lady I am not familiar with.
During the trip through the fishmen I couldn't help but comment on Andrea, which earned a quick retort and glare from the bear. I promptly shut up, and followed in silence. I kept to the rear alongside Alexi, who I've come to find as pleasant company. As much trouble as we find ourselves in when he wishes to use his certain item and "moo power", I genuinely find myself having fun.
Exploring a new length of tunnel, the group found themselves under attack from what Val called "Displacer Beasts". I am unfamiliar with such things. They looked to be of a beastly nature, running on all fours, biting and clawing those who took to the front line. All in a day's work for them, I would surmise. Alexi and Val made sure the group stayed alive and well, tending to the injured wherever required. I began to wonder if there was a point to my presence.
We did eventually manage to find the mining base, past several more creatures I have no name for.
Keeping towards the rear of the group proved to be good practice, as the eastern walls suddenly exploded inwards while introductions were being made. I dived for cover behind the closest rock pillar, while the rest of the party suffered the worst of the initial blast. Aye, it was the Grey Dwarves who came barreling through the newly revealed tunnel, using the initial surprise to their advantage, quickly cutting down a number of the miners. There was barely much I could make out from the cloud of dust, mostly being that of figures yelling and screaming.
I attempted a spell or two, but by the time I had managed it, most of the fighting was over. Jeremy's lady companion slitting the neck of the enemy's leader. Val seemed to exchange heated words with the last surviving dwarf who was working for Francesco. By the end of it, we left back for Oscura, forgoing the mining work.
Back at the inn, Francesco seemed honest enough, keeping his end of the deal, paying us each a sum of two hundred gold for the day's work. The group moved on towards the common room where they would split the loot found off the Duergar. I was left out of the proceedings for one reason or another, so rather dejectedly, I took my leave and made my way towards Peltarch.
I don't mind my lot in life, in that I'd never be like them. But to be ignored?_
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_It seems that the greenskins have something against Alidor, as the next time I would see him, his lifeless body would be laying sprawled in front of the southern gates. From what I’ve gathered; while on a trip to the far southern woods with Apollo and Einrihch , he was surrounded by sneaks and killed. If not for the timely arrival of Adriell, perhaps the other two would not have made it either. He was brought back thanks to the endeavors of a lady named Anor.
Perhaps it was not too kind on part of Einrihch and myself to constantly bring up the matter during our next patrol in the woods with him. As he took his leave, heading back north on his own.
Bran would make for a fine fellow if not for his short fuse, being quick to anger at whatever he would see fit. Be it the topic of Andrea, his inability to read and write, Gina, goblin runts…
Actually, he gets angry at almost anything.
This probably means I shouldn’t mention what Gina said the other night. He’d be liable to go off running south and getting himself killed, or make a rather large hole in the southern wall.
Aye, perhaps the teasing went too far. Alidor’s a self proclaimed Banite now, even had matching armor colors to go with the sudden conversion. Given the location of his admission, it most naturally ended with a fight. It was most unfortunate that Einrihch would unintentionally crush his skull with the flat of his blade._
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_It was to be like any other patrol out towards the south, Alidor, Kabul, Red (which I’ve named simply for his colors) and myself, four in total. Keeping my eyes on the three as we passed through the old Norwick ruins, I failed to notice the goblin sneak who was about to stab me in the back. Thankfully, it seemed to have fumbled it’s opportunity as I stepped out of it’s reach, quickly being cut down by my companions.
We found it curious for a sneak to be out this far north on its own, perhaps signifying another impending attack against the gates. Red’s sharp hearing led us further south, where a large gathering of goblins had setup some manner of ritual on the center isle, a human sacrifice with a goblin shaman uttering nonsensities over the poor fellow.
After a moment’s preparation, Alidor led the initial charge over the bridge. I hadn’t realized at the time, the sheer number of goblins that were lying in wait. Before I could take action, Alidor found himself surrounded by the greenskins, the literal wave of a green tide felling him before I could make it to his side. Red was first to react, pushing the goblins back with his “claws” and feral-animalistic combat style. Kabul continued to release volleys of arrows as quick as he could, while I stuggled to drag Alidor back, away from the melee and into the land of the living.
We managed to retreat back a safe distance. And thank whichever Gods were looking upon Alidor that day, for he was still breathing, if just barely. I spent the remaining of my spells healing the group back into fighting shape, while the rest recovered their second wind. There was much to be done yet.
Taking no chances, I called upon my companion and lead the second charge, barreling through goblins with sheer size and bulk. I was angry then, for letting a friend brush with death. If I had taken the situation seriously from the very beginning, it would not have happened. I can barely recall the final moments of battle, a red mist over my eyes, with goblins attempting to run with their resolve broken. The goblin shaman was the last to fall, but not before it managed to finish whatever foul ritual it had begun. Crying out the final incantation with it’s dying breath.
The earth shook, hellish light shone brightly into the night sky as a portal opened. It suddenly became apparent that the goblins were attempting to broker a deal with the hells. And whatever would be stepping through onto our plane would be powerful and none too happy.
“Who dares summon my master?”
Demanded an imp, who was then shortly chased around by Alidor and Kabul who were dead set on ending it’s existence.
At least I wasn’t entirely wrong with my assumptions.
I sat underneath a tree, tending to my constant travelling companion, while the two were busy interrogating the imp. In hindsight, Red didn’t seem all too interested in the scene either. This was probably for the best.
I could hear the imp in my head, tempting me with power if I would only swear fealty to whatever or whoever its master was. Looking to my companions and their respective reactions, it seemed as if they too were having conversations in their heads.
As my father had always taught me since I was but a boy, “Keep your options open”. I was curious as to who would agree and withheld a proper answer, instead fielding several questions of my own.
A later meeting with the imp would prove the entirety of it for naught, as it abruptly exploded in a shower of gory bits. Whatever the implications of that may be, at least I know now, who would in fact agree to such dealings._
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_I stumble upon a scene, Arlan with his blades drawn, apparently about to attack an elf. The moment was cut short when the elf nodded towards Val, who then stepped up behind Arlan to blindside him with her staff. I did not stay long enough to know the entire story, finding bliss in ignorance.
There is talk of vampires prowling the night, Apollo attests to the tale with injuries he had suffered from the encounter with “Harvey”. He confesses that he didn’t remember all too much about the incident, having been cut down in haste. He remains determined to continue with his training.
The attacks on the gates come far too frequent now, and on occasion it has fallen upon me to take a frontline against the foe. None seem too bothered as I shift forms, tearing and mauling as a bear, or calling down lightning from the sky. For at the end of the battle, I still remain the inconspicuous healer and herbalist.
During one of these attacks, I’ve met the vampire named Hawk. From the reception of the others, he is a friend to the town. He made a demonstration of his inhumanly quick sword skills, noting it was nothing compared to the greater evil, behind all the attacks. A draco-lich named Scy-
I’ve made my peace with Araendel, though I would admit, I’ve held nothing against the elf. From everything I’ve seen, he is righteous in his cause. He speaks of the Order of the White Aegis, explaining the white cloaks. Though this is the first I’ve heard of Noah being the leader. Fitting, I suppose. He too wishes that Soliel and I would eventually get along, “given time” I replied._
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_Trips out towards the south are frequent, as I walk in the footsteps of those leading the way. Lacking in physical prowess, my skills in healing are all but the only reason I’m able to follow and be of use.
I observe as Noah effortlessly cuts down hobgoblins, one after another. It would be of no surprise that a person such as he, wouldn’t hesitate to offer his soul to a demon, to save the lives of innocents. Tales of such grandeur are best left to heroes, those that would brave the chilling darkness to end the threat of evil. The purple dragon shield and sword he carries are testament to that.
As a common healer, what would I know of such things?
Perhaps such is the reason I find the distance between Soliel and I to be widening considerably. Already she has taken steps towards her destiny, promised by the blessings of her faith and what I know of her past. I believe it won’t be too long before people begin to recognize her for one of Nobanion’s chosen.
My mood is heavy. There is little I can do, being unable to follow the road meant for greater men.
With the southern gates all but gone, attacks from the south have increased considerably. Good folk have taken to guarding the walls, passing the time with conversation and friendly duels, of which I was witness to one between Targohr and Arlan. With only fists for weapons, Targohr promptly proved to be the mightier of the two.
After tending to the bruises, I sat by the fires, sharing company with Noah and Apollo, the latter of which was a recent arrival to these lands, much like myself. If I recall correctly, he had arrived with the paladin Karessa, of who’ve I’ve not seen since the first meeting.
Walking back towards Norwick’s inn, I entertained the thought of leaving to continue on with my travels, but nearly walking into Chea as I did so. She is another of those I’ve met during my stay, her life focused on bringing up and caring for her younger brother, adventuring for what gold may be earned from it. Even now she spends most of the waking hours working in Peltarch as a scribe.
It is hard to put into words how I felt as I watched Soliel and Araendel walk by together. In some ways it comes as no surprise. From the beginning it was the finer fit, the two being priests of their respective faiths.
Though it hardly means I’m happy about it.
To take my mind off it, I followed a pair of adventurers, Zarius and Mud into Norwick’s crypts. There they did battle with all manner of undead that I’ve yet to be familiar with. Both are formidable in their own right, Mud with his greatsword and Zarius with his spells. At one point it seemed we would have been overwhelmed, but Mud’s dwarven tenacity prevailed in the end, charging back into the fray regardless of the wounds he had.
I realize that I have to keep myself busy, lest I be alone with my thoughts. A notion I truly do not wish to entertain._