The Path of Legends

Shadow Dale and Tamshan

Savalia gets busy... We get Swindled...

Entry #4
It turns out Savalia wanted help with looting the rest of the Goblin Camp, which I was extremely eager to do, given the small fortune we earned by dispatching the little green beasties and their overbearing puke yellow master guys.

That, in part, helped the next few days of walking go by quickly. Walking could be so boring sometimes, especially since nothing happened. I mean, I know it seems odd to want an attack, but when Orrin and Savalia start to yak, it almost makes me miss killing goblins. Still, there was something to be said for scouting, which is what I was doing most of the time anyway. That was, until a Half-Elf stopped me on the road and politely asked me to leave. My immediate reaction was to prepare myself and arm for the inevitable, because everyone on the road was a threat, right?

He didn’t threaten me though. He simply warned us that we should stay off the road for a day. I was a little surprised, because I thought I was sneaking pretty well, but something about him was different. There was a lot of experience hidden in the calluses on his hands. I chose to believe him, because I didn’t really want me or my teammates to get shot at. And that is exactly what I told Savalia when I returned to the group. It seemed, however, that Savalia had different plans. Instead of staying off the road and heeding the polite Half-Elf’s warning, Savalia took Excelsior and rushed off. It was then that I realized how comfortable my palm feels when it slaps against my face.

It was Savalia though, so if I didn’t go help her she would probably end up getting eaten or something. It turns out she managed to find the Half Elf just fine, but he scolded me because somehow I am supposed to have influence over a free spirit with fire for hair. Fat Chance…

The man’s name turned out to be Rungo Mirk and he was in the service of one of the local guilds. We didn’t figure that out until later though when the rest of his party came upon us with a giant wagon train. It wouldn’t have been an amazing wagon train, if it weren’t for the giant dragon carcass they were wheeling around behind them. Disregarding the Half Elf’s warning, we proceeded directly into their midst. Our party was moving faster so we had to finagle something, but right about the time we were going to overtake them, a man in fine clothes came to greet us.

This led to a series of gross schmoozing actions between him and Savalia, and an invitation to dinner from the man whose name was Tamshan. The invitation was followed up by Rungo, who brought food, and a Dwarven Cleric named Despar. While Savalia engaged in some particularly awkward conversations and private time in her tent, the dwarf in question, managed to convince me to drink. NEVER AGAIN… NEVER.

It tastes bad, it looks bad, it smells bad, and it feels awful. No…

The next morning we came to find that our guests had left in the night. We took our time to prep the wagon and made along our merry way, only to find that our guests had been stopped on the road by a few broken wheels. I chuckled a little under my breath, because I found it funny. One of their number, a large man with a thick beard seemed to be so angry that he was crimson with rage. We were gracious as we moved around their wagon procession and we made good time to Shadow Dale over the next few days. I was still chuckling about their wagon train breaking down until the day before our entry to Shadow Dale.

Finally, a town! It had been nothing but forests, hills, grasslands and things for miles. This town though, wasn’t what I expected. We were greeted by farmland and limping people; not necessarily in that order. The town was big and sprawling, but all the buildings looked to be about the same size. There were 3 towers that poked overhead, but everything else seemed pretty level. The houses themselves didn’t seem overly rich or overly poor. Here it didn’t seem like there were any upper class folk. And what I mean by Upper Class folk, are the hoity toity people like Tamshan that filled the upper levels of my hometown. No, this town was filled with people who were experienced in the land, experienced with adventurers and worst of all, experienced with thieves…

Everywhere I went the guards had their eyes on me. I was watched the minute I stepped into town and there wasn’t a time that I was free of surveillance. In the meantime, as I tried to flex my stealing muscles and frequently shirked under the invading eyes of all of the guardsmen in existence, Savalia and the others were trying to set up shop.

For all of her hot air and arguing, Savalia is really good at talking. It didn’t help much though; we still got stuck with an awkward spot a bit of the way down the lane. To top it off, I flubbed my juggling moves and everyone said our stuff was poor quality. That irritated me a bit, because we worked really hard to get it. Then some Halfling who thinks he’s hot stuff comes up and buys it all. He also makes a move at Savalia. I would be lying if I said she did nothing in accordance to his request, but I’d really rather not thing about what might have happened. He had a really stupid name though… “Corkatron ‘The Highroller’ Allinamuck” I think it was. He was a guild leader of the guild, “Halflings Inc.” They were apparently some prestigious guild or something.

After a while I truly didn’t care and just set about finding a roof to perch on for the night. I combed through a few choice ones before I settled on a nice shingled one overlooking a particularly nice part of the city. The others apparently had some trouble finding accommodations; something about everyone splitting apart and going in completely different directions. I was a little preoccupied with my own business however. I failed to notice until the act itself that I was apparently encroaching on ‘Harpy Bitch’ Territory. This crazy winged woman swooped upon my unconscious body and tried to heft me off of the roof. I jumped to my senses and just narrowly avoided death by sidewalk when I tried to seize my assailant by the feathers. They claimed this was, ‘their roof’ as were all the others. I still think that was entirely unfair, but I can’t and couldn’t do anything about it at the time.

Instead, I resolved to ask around for where my friends ended up and followed their trail to the Old Skull Inn… I hate this bed. It is extremely uncomfortable, but at least it gave me some time to write a little. I should probably try and get some sleep before tomorrow though…



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