Remember Troutbridge??
What year.. What year... Let me think -
I recall that blustery Spring evening in Troutbridge - some 7 years ago now -- when we began this journey. That was PY 849 if memory serves.
Yes.. Yes.. - I recall that evening. It started out quietly - with the sounds of Muted conversation and the muffled thumps of ale-filled clay mugs being set down on scarred wooden tables in the dark recesses of the Crying Kobold. It was there I remember meeting up with my old friend, Thomas. I can still see the scene before me - A young half-elven bard sitting at a table, softly strumming a lute and pausing between chords to sip his bock ale. The spring weather had brought the characteristic increase in activity in Troutbridge, as well as the equally characteristic wet spring rains.
I remember entering the tavern - swinging the door open for what was probably the hundredth time that night. We probably looked like an unlikely pair entering on a gust of rainy wind. Me - a handsome half-elf - accompanied by what others would see as a huge man with more than a hint of orcish blood. The bard looked up and nodded to me, regarding the ferocious looking half-orc with only mild concern. "Well-met, Villhalas," the bard spoke quietly but clearly. I can still hear his voice from that night - "Please, avail yourself and your companion of chairs at my table--you'll not find any other seats, I'm afraid," the bard said as he glanced about the crowded room.
Thanking him for his offer, I lowered myself onto the proffered chair, quietly chuckling to myself as I watched the Half-Orc do likewise - causing the other rickety oaken chair to groan alarmingly. We were soon deep in conversation - Having both grown up in Troutbridge, Thomas and I had known each other for most of our lives.
It was then that I had the dubious honor of introducing the half-orc, Totmacher. Totmacher had accompanied me on several journies of late - and became (to the amusement of those we ran across) a trusted companion. Upon a series of skillfully placed questions by the Bard, the half-orc explained that he came from the shadowy eastern foothills of the Turgrad mountains, in the lawless regions widely regarded as the Central Wilds. As he oftentimes did when drinking, he then withdrew into himself, speaking no more of his presence in the civilized lands of Paldor. Noting the half-orc's abrupt turn in mood (which was common for the young Barbarian), Thomas ceased in his pursuit of conversation with him.
I recall spending the next several hours exchanging a handful of stories - recounting our recent travels in Southern Paldor. After sharing our recent experiences with one another, we settled in to the comfort of our wine. It was during that lull in conversation I recall over-hearing a rather animated conversation from across the room - one which would end up setting everything in motion -
"Aye, brother. The garrison's jus' too busy right now. We're havin' a go of it, I kin tell ya. What with the wars in the East an' a couple of uprisings here at home, life in the army ain't the quiet service they told me 'bout back when I first upped." A quick glance revealed that the speaker was a grizzled veteran, holding forth to a young man dressed in the simple brown robes of a travelling priest of Mithras. He continued - "I'd round up my squad an' do it myself, but we're on orders to ride to Graylock Parish an' 'spel the boys there--they're comin' back to Dolunin after puttin' down the rebels up north. So ya see, brother, if you're lookin' for a way to help out here in the south, you might oughtta look into it. The estate--what's left of it--is in the Blackthorn Hills; the family was the Loftgates. They're gone an' the place is jus' an empty shell, but t' hear tell, the case is in some secret vault someplace there--got the tale from our own mage. If you kin get it, Lord Blass'll pay well an' I'm sure the Church'll be mighty pleased." As the young cleric began to protest, the old soldier stood up - clapped the young man on the shoulder, and said - "Best o' luck, brother. You give a shout if ya need anything when ya come through the Parish."
And so it began - seven long years ago..
...So, to answer your question Priest - I believe the year is now PY 856 - if my math serves correctly.
Cheers,
Jas
This message was last edited by the player at 12:55, Tue 15 May 2007.
