Re: Scene 4: Hellwinter
The sword is crafted out of pure mithril, silver and gold, its blade etched with ancient Runes of Power. The hilt is embellished by precious stones from the fabulous
treasure of King Gillan.
Rorn gapes at the dead Hellknight's blade with awe. It seemed like an artefact you heard about listening to the glee-bard's epic tales, not something lying there, right in front of you.
"Uhm, Sir Roland, I think you had better put that sword to good use against the ice devils??" the young hunter says tentatively. Completely untrained with such a weapon, Rorn feels that if he tried swinging it, he would just as soon hack his own arm off than harm an opponent.
A Potion of Luck.
Gallaharn’s chainmail.
A black bear cape.
A pewter flask with a dark red liquor, smelling of strong wine.
Rorn has no interest in the heavy armour but he is drawn to the aromatic liquids. "Mmmm, wine," he says after giving the red stuff a sniff. The other waterbottle has a suggestive label. "Luck, huh. Yes, we could certainly use some!" he says, looking at the collapsed ceiling.
He goes over to Gal to make sure her cut was nothing serious and offers to help her clean the wound.
The cape was certainly of interest, it looked warm and was something Rorn could certainly appreciate, knowing how fierce bears were!
He pokes his skinning knife at a spitted bird. Scrawny and evil-looking, even in death, they were probably not even going to be good eating. Rorn rubs his hands near to the fire burning in the hearth.
"Bury the dead knight, and then head to that cave then, I suppose," he says with apprehension, thinking about that evil ghost that they had seen and figuring it had gone there for sure.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:11, Sun 18 Mar 2018.