An old man sits at a weathered table in the common room of the inn, regaling youngsters with his latest yarn. They nod respectfully his way as he gestures and puffs on his pipe, smiling slightly and nodding to one another as they sip their brews.
"It was early afternoon, a hot summer day in Brindol, when the group about which so much would later be spoken first met. An unlikely band of heroes, I grant you.
"The first was an ale-sodden dwarf in armor festooned in metal spikes like some kind of elemental hedgehog coughed up by a Wyrmsmoke peak. I was at the next table, and I tell ye, boys, that he looked like a bigger threat to the feet of the rest of us if he should keel over on the floor and get stepped on."
The old timer clears his throat. "As I was saying, this dwarf was sitting at the next table, when a couple of drifters came in, clad in robes and leathers and still covered with road dust. Looked parched, they were. Seeing nowhere better to sit, the fell in with the dwarf and were quickly embroiled in some conversation. I didn't hear much of it, but I'll warrant it was as much about the attributes of women they met on their travels as anything else. Harrumph!
"So these fellas were jawing away over ales, foolishly ordering the spiked one even more ale when it was clear to all he was ready to be put away for the day, and here it was barely past noon! Then a gaggle of these leather-clad toughs came in. Pretty full of themselves they were, especially their leader; I think his boys called him Chester or Charles...no, Chent! That was it.
"So they came in lookin' for trouble, and found it sitting in the corner. There was an elf lass back there--yes, Selene, ya mite, now pipe down!--and her with her cat Rowan. I dunno what those idiots thought they were doing messing with a feral elf like that; more balls than brains in yer generation if ya ask me. And sure as the sun rises, they settled themselves in and pushed her too far.
"Looked like it was gonna be another brawl, but one a' the waiters ran off to fetch the Guard when they saw these braggarts enter, and a Lion of Brindol came in and gave 'em the boot with barely more than a glare. You shoulda seen the cowards scurry! Har! More like Red Rats than Crimson Tigers, if'n ya ask me..."
The oldster tamps down more weed in his pipe and takes a puff. "Now where was I? Ah yes, so anyways, these thugs went running out, but not before knocking over that elf's table. The staff reseated her with the dwarf, along with some imposter guard. Shoulda known it was magic the way his beard started to grow at table like that.
"There were five of 'em at table now. One of them, that slippery-lookin' fella with the spectacles, he went and chatted with the Lion for a minute, getting directions most like. The rest of 'em, they formed themselves up into a band to travel together and share expenses, and set out that very day. Turns out that fake guard was another dwarf who was usin' fancy magics to hide his true appearance. Maybe he was on the run or somethin', never did find out. But you know how those types are--if they're not in trouble, they're running from it.
"I warrant they didnt make it far that first night. It's a real head-scratcher why a person would want to leave the comforts of a place like Brindol for the open road, when they could have easily stayed the night, and maybe picked up some horses to make some real progress. But instead they went off at a slow troop.
"Took 'em eight days to travel across the Vale to Drellin's Ferry. Your Ma is from there, right Pym? Well, you may remember it as a sleepy little town. Little did they know what trouble that bunch heralded for 'em all when they showed up"
"It was early afternoon, a hot summer day in Brindol, when the group about which so much would later be spoken first met. An unlikely band of heroes, I grant you.
"The first was an ale-sodden dwarf in armor festooned in metal spikes like some kind of elemental hedgehog coughed up by a Wyrmsmoke peak. I was at the next table, and I tell ye, boys, that he looked like a bigger threat to the feet of the rest of us if he should keel over on the floor and get stepped on."
The old timer clears his throat. "As I was saying, this dwarf was sitting at the next table, when a couple of drifters came in, clad in robes and leathers and still covered with road dust. Looked parched, they were. Seeing nowhere better to sit, the fell in with the dwarf and were quickly embroiled in some conversation. I didn't hear much of it, but I'll warrant it was as much about the attributes of women they met on their travels as anything else. Harrumph!
"So these fellas were jawing away over ales, foolishly ordering the spiked one even more ale when it was clear to all he was ready to be put away for the day, and here it was barely past noon! Then a gaggle of these leather-clad toughs came in. Pretty full of themselves they were, especially their leader; I think his boys called him Chester or Charles...no, Chent! That was it.
"So they came in lookin' for trouble, and found it sitting in the corner. There was an elf lass back there--yes, Selene, ya mite, now pipe down!--and her with her cat Rowan. I dunno what those idiots thought they were doing messing with a feral elf like that; more balls than brains in yer generation if ya ask me. And sure as the sun rises, they settled themselves in and pushed her too far.
"Looked like it was gonna be another brawl, but one a' the waiters ran off to fetch the Guard when they saw these braggarts enter, and a Lion of Brindol came in and gave 'em the boot with barely more than a glare. You shoulda seen the cowards scurry! Har! More like Red Rats than Crimson Tigers, if'n ya ask me..."
The oldster tamps down more weed in his pipe and takes a puff. "Now where was I? Ah yes, so anyways, these thugs went running out, but not before knocking over that elf's table. The staff reseated her with the dwarf, along with some imposter guard. Shoulda known it was magic the way his beard started to grow at table like that.
"There were five of 'em at table now. One of them, that slippery-lookin' fella with the spectacles, he went and chatted with the Lion for a minute, getting directions most like. The rest of 'em, they formed themselves up into a band to travel together and share expenses, and set out that very day. Turns out that fake guard was another dwarf who was usin' fancy magics to hide his true appearance. Maybe he was on the run or somethin', never did find out. But you know how those types are--if they're not in trouble, they're running from it.
"I warrant they didnt make it far that first night. It's a real head-scratcher why a person would want to leave the comforts of a place like Brindol for the open road, when they could have easily stayed the night, and maybe picked up some horses to make some real progress. But instead they went off at a slow troop.
"Took 'em eight days to travel across the Vale to Drellin's Ferry. Your Ma is from there, right Pym? Well, you may remember it as a sleepy little town. Little did they know what trouble that bunch heralded for 'em all when they showed up"
