"I wish I had some sensational story to tell.  It would make it easier.  Something like being mauled by a bear while protecting my family would be more fun to tell.  I began my magical studies at an early age -- maybe too early -- and I was playing around with spell components and compounds that I shouldn't have been playing.  It was completely my fault."

"Anyway, there was an explosion, and this stuff landed on my face.  It started burning, and I couldn't wipe it off.  By the time my master found me, he said he could parts of my bare skull showing through.  He tended my wounds best he could.  Gave me a healing postion he kept around for emergencies.  But he decided not to get a healer.  He said that I had learned an important lesson that day, and that my scars would serve as a reminder that one must respect the arts and not act rashly.  Tough love, I guess.  I learned my lesson, that's for sure."

Korgan nods. "Talk about learning the hard way. What did you do to him?"

"Do to him?  Nothing, he was my master.  I hold nothing against him. He was at least partially right.  I was very irresponsible and unpredictable.  Who knows, Korgan?  He may have saved my life.  In fact, if he had "cleaned up my mess," -- so to speak -- I may have cost more than my own life the next time I fooled around."

"However, I can not say that I would have done the same thing in his case. I hope I am never put in the position where I have to make a similar decision.  It has made some things...awkward."  Merka laughed mirthlessly.  "I am sure it was not his intention to sentence me to a life of celibacy, but he effectively did so.  Perhaps it has all been for the best.  Only the gods can say."

Chuckling warmly, Merka adds, "Next time a god shows up, let's ask."

"Yeah...those gods were pretty wild!" Korgan says. He tries to hide it, but he's pretty uncomfortable with the fatc that Merka didn't get even with his master.

At the Tavern

Brin you are able to overhear a bit of the ongong conversation at the bar between the barkeeper and the three dockment.

Brin's attention is drawn more fully to the dockhands.  He has heard a name he recognizes...

As the barkeeper and the three dockmen laugh at a reference to "Skinflint Dell" a door that was hidden in the wall behind the bar opens and out steps a human male.  Wearing a leather harness over his bare chest, his head is shaved and several daggers hang from the harness and a short sword of some sort is on his belt.

"Skinflint, is that the best you pack of scurvy filty dogs can come up with?  Hellfire, when I was still nursing at my moms breast, I could do better than that!"  He then cuts loose with a string of curses that all but turn the air blue.  The curses finish up with a belly laugh that is almost infectious in its nature.  The three dockmen all laugh just as hard.  The barkeep looks sick.  Ol' Skinflint Dell then hits the barkeep on the back with is open hand and knocks him over the bar onto the floor.  The laughter gets harder with this new development.

After a few minutes, as the laughter dies down and everyone is wiping tears from their eyes, Skinflint Dell says to the barkeeper, "Get up off the floor and back to work if you to keep your job.  Otherwise you can go back to cleaning dung scows for living again."  He just looks around the room.  "Anyone need a refill?"

Brin looks into his still-almost-full mug of ale (the stuff usually made him gag, but sometimes not drinking ale was worse than drinking it), and stands to walk it over to where Dell stands at the bar.

"I could use a little more, friend.  In fact, a friend of mine from Phlan said you served the best ale in all of Malvaunt..."

Dell standing behind the bar looks at Brin, "Friend, you say you have a friend.  What is the world coming to.  I knows nobody in Phlan, just a village putting on airs I say."

He takes your mug and fills it.  When he hands it back to you, there is a bit of paper stuck inside the handle. "That will be 3 coppers."

Looking at the barkeep, Dell shakes his head and goes back through the door and closes it behind him.

As you sip your ale you are able to read. 'Come to the back door of the building next door in five minutes.'
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:59, Sat 20 Nov 2004.

Brin waits a minute, making the pretense of finishing his ale.  He then walks by Ashes' table, tapping it slightly as he passes. Barely audible he says one word , _outside..., and continues out the door.

Ashes finishes his drink and rises to his feet slowly, he drapes his cape across his shoulder and then a few moments later follows Brin outside, dropping a silver coin on the bar as he passes, nodding thanks at the barkeep.

Korgan looks at Merka and Dalton. "So, did you want to practice a little with the clumbs, or what? It would be nice to get the muscles loosened up a little."

At the Spirit

Dalton sits up, "Sure lets practice some with the Clubs.  I am sure you can show me some things that me Dads has not taught me yet."  He get a couple of belaying pins, wooden dowels about 2 inches thick and maybe 2 feet long.

At the Tavern.

Once outside the tavarn, you can walk around the next building and past down an alley.  Once in the alley, there is a fair amount of trash, old wooden crates and barrels.  There is enough room for a two wheeled cart to move down the alley.  The door behind the tavern is clear, since deliveries of some sort are made there.  But the building next door has a mountain of old crates and barrels piles behind it.

As you look around, you find a little pathway that snakes it way into the maze of old crates and barrels, which is stacked higher than your heads.  There is a single door hidden from normal view with enough room for several people to stand.

Korgan nods. "Ok, let me see what you can do. We'll start just sparring a little. Try hitting me as best you can, I'll try to avoid your attacks, and might even hit back a little."

Grabbing one of the clumbs, Korgan awaits Daltons actions.

Rystro pauses in drinking his ale before Brin and Ashes get up and leave. Is that a hint for us to leave too? He looks over at his half-orc friend and moves over to talk to him.

Dalton holds his belaying pin in front of him by one hand.  It seems that from this position he can block most slashing types of weapons.  However he pulls the club back before he attacks, which lets you know he is going to attack.  His attack is easy to avoid and he appears to be wide open to any type of attack you would want to make on him.

Dalton Club Attack:  6

NOTE:  Everyone please update your Bio Stats.  You all have had time or healing to be at full hit points.  Thanks.

Before heading down the little alley, Brin looks at ashes before giving a sigh and moving toward the door.  It's times like these he especially missed the open forests and sunny fields of a childhood not far gone.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:32, Sun 21 Nov 2004.

Ashes grins.

"Always with the drama.", he says as he follows him in.

Korgan studies Daltons moves taking note of his technique. "Be careful, you're opening up for a counterattack when you strike" he says, marking how, but not hitting. He doesn't strike for a few rounds.

OOC: Full defense actions.

After a few rounds of fighting, if Dalton is still opening when he strike, Korgan attempts a trip-attack.


09:49, Today: Korgan Nkopno rolled 28 using 1d20+9. Touch attack for trip.
09:51, Today: Korgan Nkopno rolled 11 using 1d20+4. Strength check, trip.


Depending on whether or not Dalton is tripped, Korgan says either "You see, you were quite open" or "You see, I could have easily tripped you over."

At the Spirit

Dalton tries another attack with the same results.  He rolls a 6 again, how are them apples ;)   The trip attack on Dalton is successful and he falls flat on his back.  Learning is taking place, however it remains to be seen how effective it is.

Behind the Tavern

As our band of travelers gather at the door, hidden from view from anyone in the alley, a slot in the door opens.  A voice asks, ”Who are you and what do you want?”

Korgan helps Dalton to his feet. "You see. Always cover your legs when you make an attack" he says. "Let's stop sparring, and do some excersises. I qant you to make a strike like THIS" he adds, showing how to hit without leaving your defenses behind.

Trying to seem casually proficient with back-alley city ways, Brin speaks in a friendly, even tone, trying not to make the unseen voice nervous.

"We are Olive's friends. She said we could find a helping hand in this place."

OOC-Did we get invited to this backalley meeting? Or are we in the bar getting drunk? Are there girls there? If so...I wanna dooooo them. (That was a joke. Anyone get it?)

Merka is so captivated by the two men's sparring that he forgets for a moment to watch the two bums that appear to have the boat under surveillance.  When the action pauses, he looks back at the pier -- hoping the scene is unchanged.

(OOC: Rystro, I believe you and Vaargurr are still at the bar.  Ashes and I went to the back alley. )