Jiyyd Rumors
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@3c23e8878f=Tigrelily:
blood can be seen in odd places within the jiyyd crafting hall. Some is caked on the ceiling above the circular saw, some on the floor beneath. Remanent of skin and bone like fragments here and there. It does however looks as though someone ATTEMPTED to clean up the mess, but for the most part it was done sloppy. If Sonja's asked what happened he might reply simply…"The Dwarf" before going back to his regular duties.
Z is heard bellowing, "What the hell…?!!!" from the Jiyyd crafting hall. A short time later, he exits the hall and he doesn't look too happy... :x
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Some Legion soldiers under the supervision of General Lyte can be seen kindly lending a helping hand to a shorthanded farmer who lives out in the east farmlands, transporting bales of hay about.
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blood can be seen in odd places within the jiyyd crafting hall. Some is caked on the ceiling above the circular saw, some on the floor beneath. Remanent of skin and bone like fragments here and there. It does however looks as though someone ATTEMPTED to clean up the mess, but for the most part it was done sloppy. If Sonja's asked what happened he might reply simply…"The Dwarf" before going back to his regular duties.
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People in and around Jiyyd hear ocassional explosions from the eastern road. Rumor has it a man clad from head to toe in silver and brown can be seen digging, and detonating kegs. Word spreads of a hidden treasure buried beneath Jiyyd's eastern farmlands, and this Narsman intends to be the first to unearth it.
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*General's Lyte and Theaon are seen with their arms around an aged man in robes who appears one afternoon outside of Jiyyd.
Rumors abound that this is the heroic Legion mage Abner, who was much responsible for Jiyyd's survival during the Great White Dragon War some years back, having given his life multiple times, in this great time of turmoil.
Thought long dead, it is obviously a joyous occasion for the Legion, and cheers and hearty toasts are heard from the confines of the lumbering Royal Troff Legion Hall.*
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Just prior to dusk, it is rumored Telli was seen dragging a bound bugbear atop her mount Mr Porky. She was swift to drag him to the barracks and soon a group of adventurers entered town in her pursuit.
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@1d63da153c=Lagermane:
_To the bafflement, amazement, amusement, and alarm of the citizenry, Just'ene goes on a three-day drunk.
Afterwards she seems quiet, testy, and if anything more rigid and brittle than before._
With the recent rumors circulating Jiyyd and Norwick of Just'ene's encounter with Gemli, Telli looks for Just'ene to find out what exactly happend involving her kin.
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_To the bafflement, amazement, amusement, and alarm of the citizenry, Just'ene goes on a three-day drunk.
Afterwards she seems quiet, testy, and if anything more rigid and brittle than before._
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Telli's been seen lugging lengths of rope behind her as well in the days to follow
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*Townsfolk around Jiyyd watch quietly as a massive, shiny, steel circular cap is rolled out of the legion hall with the help of horses and a dozen Legioniers. It is s-s-s-low-ly rolled up to the old well near the center of town, and lowered into place with much hoisting and muscle, and six heavy chains, attached to it's perimeter, and stretched out as this steel cap is pegged securely down.
Jiyyd's populace have seen this before, during the War of the White Dragon, and all know the signs of trouble on the horizon.
Meanwhile, troops with axes and saws can be seen led around by General Lyte or Sgt. Telli, off east or west at various times, and returning with lots of oak. They disappear into the legion hall with their loads, and much sawing and hacking can be heard around the old Legion Hall.*
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Out in the plains and in the dead of night, a muffled boom is heard. A rush of dust spills out of the entrance to the old ruined tower, followed only seconds later by a small procession of large, hulking figures carrying heavy sacks. They head away from the tower and disappear into the night.
//edit: doh, kull beat me to it shakes a fist
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Some might say that in the cover of the night, few days ago, a large group of about 8 halforcs were seen leaving Jyiid hauling big boxes, rummors has it that they were heading somewhere to the plains. If those witness dont know better they might even say that they were mooving….
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@aa7a94925f=Pyrys:
_Dietrick doesn't seem affected in the least , rather he simply says in sarcastic tone…
"Says a lil' whelp who wun dare to stand in front of me blade..... Say right-size are weak and weaker? Come have un' duel with Dietrick if ya dare and we'd see if ya kin even last two rounds....."_
Har har, pout and stomp yar petty feet as much ya want punyling. All whut it does, it reminds Grak what sound comes from rusty old hinge when its squaking in the wind. Harh Harh Harh.
Ya shoulds scurry back into yar valley and pray yar punyling gods that hobbos not find ya. If ya bes lucky, yar natural skills in hiding and running aways are enough to keep ya off from chains. Har har
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@10e06011b1=Pyrus:
@10e06011b1=sd_luv:
_Bards and common folks speak by the fires and inns of Ostertag the Coward!…
...When Dietrick hears of the dishonorable and despicable act Ostromog does he became quite angry and insults Ostromog, commenting on his cowardice and spitting at his name._
Grak is relaxing at Jiiyd campfire, snickering at Dietrick commenting
Har har! Silly shorty, sulk and pout all ya wants. Soon shorty gots ability to pout fer dem Ostromog-curr directly. Grak has heard that Ostromog is coming fer this town with great number of troops.
Whut Grak has also heard, is that dem forces outnumber ya shorties with everything; height, cunning, numbers, strength, weapon reach and size of feet. Har har har. Only thing, they get second place is hiding, stealing and sniveling. That bes best yar kind does.
Days are over fer yar little valley, soon it will be called slave-pen-valley filled with yar kind, in chains… Harh Harh. Perhaps Grak should enlist to hold the whip that bes constantly licking yar backs. Har har har!
_Dietrick doesn't seem affected in the least , rather he simply says in sarcastic tone…
"Says a lil' whelp who wun dare to stand in front of me blade..... Say right-size are weak and weaker? Come have un' duel with Dietrick if ya dare and we'd see if ya kin even last two rounds....."_
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Araganor boldly strides to Grak's side and stands next to him to converse.
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*General Lyte, standing at her customery spot in front of the western gates of the town, seems overwhelmed with townsfolk and visitors alike, inquiring minds wanting to substantiate rumors about mighty General's Grags one-orc display of verisimilitude while trapped within the secret, stone clad bugbear fortress, following Ostramog's attempt at treacherous ambuscade.
The tale of his valiant deeds, especially from the mouth of the straightforward First Seat of Safety of the town, seems to bring forth feelings of passionate optimism and offers of free cigars, and other generous wishes of well being to the legendary half-orc General.
Hope springs eternal, it seems*
"Be it true th' Ganral killed a mess o' those handy big battlerager types all on his lonesome?", asks one of Jiyyd's militia regulars.
Lyte shakes her head seriously as some farmers stop to listen
"No. These's were tougher bugbears, I think. Ostramog's very own elite bear Guardians surrounded him and he had a running fight with the brutes within the walls of the fortress. You could hear him bellowing and axes clanging. A small group of us were waiting just outside the walls of the bugbear citadel hoping for the General's return from his meeting, and we were aghast when they bushwacked him in there, when he had asked for a truce to talk."
More folks gather around
"These brutes attacked the General under a flag of truce?", asks a matronly hin with a basket of apples.
Lyte nods, obviously looking around surprisedly at the growing throng of Grag well-wishers and groupies.
_"He originally loudly banged on their giant stone gate, demanding an audience with self appointed King Ostramog. He wanted to introduce himself, I guess, and try to work out a civilized truce.
I had advised against him trusting anything these bugbears would say, do or promise, but he insisted on seeing and judging their King himself.
When a bugbear Guardian at the gate would not allow him to see the king, a deal was bargained that Grag would be allowed to pass safely, if he defeated this champion in a fight.
The General vanquished this gate-guard, who neglected to yield, though the General gave him the merciful opportunity, and then, Grag was allowed into their Fortress.
They slammed the gate behind him, and the palace Guard attempted to capture and unarm him.
Much to their chagrin, General Grag of the Royal Troff Legion is a force unto himself, and they probably aimed their axe blows at his very, very hard head, a mistake many enemies have made and not lived to tell about."_
Lyte allows herself a hand flourish to punctuate her story, and draws a few laughs from citizens who know Grag's hard headedness well.
"Wal' missy Lyte, I'd like to donate this here churn o' butter to th' Genral, for his toast in the morning!", a polka dot dressed farmer's wife offers.
Suddenly an avalanche of appreciative offers descends upon the slight General from the appreciative townsfolk.
_"Here's a goodly mule I'd like to donate to th' Legion, Gen'ral Lyte. He's almost stubborn as Grag, and twice as fat!"
" Gan'ral Grag's single yet, aint he? My sweet Pottilla's a fine cook, and I'd enjoy havin' a military man in the family!"
" I made General Grag these apple tarts. Cn' I get an autograph for my kids?"_
After thanking Jiyyd's friends and inhabitants for the many gifts for General Grag, Lyte holds up a hand for an announcement.
_"Thank you for your well wishes, gifts and kind offers.
As you all know, these bugbears are despicable characters, bent on ruling these lands. They are evil, they are many, and this leader character of theirs will no doubt try and atempt to sew fear and death among all he can.
The Legion can use help. We have many projects in the works to try and make Jiyyd a safer place to live, and to try to insure the safety of it's inhabitants as much as possible.
These past twelve years, Jiyyd has prospered. We have had bountiful harvests and local families have increased in number. New farms have spread out east and south.
We are asking all farmers to set aside a portion of their crops in a community barn inside the town walls. This will help us to survive, should the bugbears manage to destroy any of the outlying farms. I know I can count on your support on this.
Also, we are seeking any aid in the fields of carpentry and masonry that you spare on your off hours. We have a few repairs to make to siege weapons, walls, and the like.
Finally, I would like to request some young, fleet volunteers from the ranks of the older children for duty as runners and messengers back and forth between our various guard posts. These will be paid positions, and quite important tasks in the overall well-being of the community. I will only accept these positions from long time citizen's families…as these jobs demand great trust!"_
Lyte smiles brightly, and takes note of volunteers offering any foodstuffs, services, and youthful runners.
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Fergets dats Mr Grag… juss push da whelp in da front a da battle lines and watch Mr Grak piss his pants I betchas. If da feller was as good wid a sword as he was wid his mouth Jiyyd be saved three times over alrudy.
Telli snorts watching the horizon for the battle to come.
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Grag overhears Grak and just simply looks in his direction and lifts his axe at him with a wink
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@283d132a28=sd_luv:
_Bards and common folks speak by the fires and inns of Ostertag the Coward!…
...When Dietrick hears of the dishonorable and despicable act Ostromog does he became quite angry and insults Ostromog, commenting on his cowardice and spitting at his name._
Grak is relaxing at Jiiyd campfire, snickering at Dietrick commenting
Har har! Silly shorty, sulk and pout all ya wants. Soon shorty gots ability to pout fer dem Ostromog-curr directly. Grak has heard that Ostromog is coming fer this town with great number of troops.
Whut Grak has also heard, is that dem forces outnumber ya shorties with everything; height, cunning, numbers, strength, weapon reach and size of feet. Har har har. Only thing, they get second place is hiding, stealing and sniveling. That bes best yar kind does.
Days are over fer yar little valley, soon it will be called slave-pen-valley filled with yar kind, in chains… Harh Harh. Perhaps Grak should enlist to hold the whip that bes constantly licking yar backs. Har har har!
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//double post, deleted this one
