The Curse of the Weeping Witch [IC Game Thread]

[Blink]

The Curse of the Weeping Witch

Expedition to the Fields of Woe


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It is late in the morning when you are led into the grand throne room of the Duke’s castle. After seeking information on the posting you found at the city gates, you were given a room in the castle to wait an audience with Lord Greymane. You passed the night in comfort, and you now find yourself following the chamberlain through a set of iron bound double doors that tower above you and into the grand hall of the throne room alongside four other travelers who have likewise responded to the Duke’s notice.

The chamber is a grand testament to the wealth and power of Nethermar, with soaring, vaulted ceilings, ornate pillars and carved stone buttresses hung with the red banners of the king and emblazoned with the silver lion of Lord Greymane. A beautiful carpet of deep crimson embroidered in gold thread stretches the length of the hall leading to the dais where the Duke’s throne rests, and golden candelabras stand to either side of the chamber.

As you approach the throne, you are greeted by the sight of four guard in breast plates with halberds in hand and long swords at their waist. Each is garbed in the livery of the Duke, and they stand stiffly at attention, their faces partially obscured by their steel helms. Similarly adorned guards stand behind you at the entrance to the grand hall, and you can see four more stationed along the edges of the chamber just beyond the candlelight.

Duke Greymane stands a top the dais garbed in finery with a circle of silver and steel set upon a head of salt and pepper hair. However, despite the airs of nobility that surround and adorn him, this is not a man of regal bearing. This is a man with the continuance of a seasoned warrior. A soldier who has seen dozens of battles, and his face bears the weight of his experience in it’s lines. A faded, pale scar runs the length of his stubble covered jaw, and his blue eyes are hard as steel.

The Duke is speaking with a man you do not know as you come to stand before the throne. He is a heavyset man in fine clothes of green and brown that boarder of garish, and a head of curly black hair. When the chamberlain motions to get the Duke’s attention, Lord Greymane dismisses the heavyset noble, who exits through a door to the rear of the chamber, and he turns his steel blue gaze on you, ”So,” he speaks in a deep baritone, ”This is what passes for bold explorers in Nordenheim. I would have your names,” his words are not a question but a command.

[Orsik Vondal]

Roscoe Brittlebark - Halfling Barbarian

As Roscoe is led into the enormous chambers of the Duke, he inwardly scoffs at the ridiculousness of building such a huge room for one person. "It's not like people can sit up there in the rafters. The giants in power just want to make everyone else feel small." He shrugs a little uncomfortably in his outfit. The ornamental bear head sitting on his shoulder was itching again. At some point he was going to have to fix that or get used to it. His bone sword sits strapped across his back, long enough to make him as wide as he is tall.

He looks around to the other adventurers. A dwarf, two giants, one a green-skin, and another halfling. He edges in between the halfling and dwarf and elbows them both in the ribs. Roscoe conspiratorially uses his hand to shield his words. His attempt at subtlety is undermined as he doesn't actually whisper his next words and the fact that his voice is high-pitched. "Looks like they brought in these two giants to mop up whatever we miss. Am I right?" He makes a dismissive gesture indicating the human and half-orc. "I mean, I could probably chop this tree down myself, but I guess the Duke wants more info than 'How many chops does it take to get to the center of twisty tree?'"

"Name's Roscoe, by the way. Roscoe Brittlebark, Slayer of Mighty Beasts!"

...

"Passes for bold explorers? Your Duke-iness, I'm the real deal! Roscoe Brittlebark's the name! No problem too big, no halfling too small! I promise you, I'll get to the root of all this!" Roscoe nudges the other halfling again with a "see-what-I-did-there?" look on his face.

[El'the Ellie]

"Wow..." Olive hadn't been in Nordenheim long, and had never found herself in a throne room before. She gazes up at the high vaulted ceilings, thoroughly awestruck. The opulence of the stonework, the red lion banners, and deep carpet was a far cry from what she was used to: practical inns, durable clothes, and cheap meals. Is this how the noble live? It was just like the stories.

Still, it was hard not to stare at the massive half-orc that was there with their group. It was the first half-orc Olivia has seen, and though she read about them it didn't quite do them justice. She couldn't decide how she felt: on one hand she didn't know this person, and judging from his stature he could probably smash her to bits if he had a mind to. On the other hand, an ally like that made her feel a lot safer on the dangerous roads...

"Hi Roscoe! 'Slayer of Beasts'? Are you going to keep us safe from monsters in the woods? I'm Olive, this is Aerus." She points down to the black and white tabby cat currently sleeping in her lap.

***

Olivia is visibly nervous under the stern gaze of the Duke, but her voice is confident. "And I am Olivia, sir, at your service!"

[Vendarien]

Agro Stifles a yawn as he follows the Chamberlain . He had stayed up all night trying to put his drab cloths into the best semblance of order he could manage. He had not expected to spend the night in the castle, and was certainly not prepared to meet the duke. With each step closer to the throne room his nerves tense knowing he does not belong here, and a small misstep could spell disaster. Realizing he has forgotten to pin it on, Agro fumbles through his belt pouch for his Rank insignia, taking note of the others in the procession of adventurers as he does. He falls to the rear of the group in hopes of keeping attention off himself, an Idea that quickly disappears as he takes note of the others heights.

The doors swing open. Agro pulls his shoulders back, and lifts his chin as he marches into the throne room. His composure is nearly thrown, when he begins to take in the magnificent sight in front of him. Never before has he been in the presence of such riches and finery. The wealth and power demonstrated in this room is almost enough to stagger Agro. So taken in by it all he does not realize they have been addressed by the duke, until the other begin to introduce themselves. His eye flick to the duke, briefly meeting his gaze, before quickly dropping to his knee and bowing his heed. Heart pounding the Half-Orc hopes he has not just made a mistake, and answers the duke in a voice like a rock tumbler . "Lord Greymane. I have been named Agro Gro-Oginash. I present myself to serve."

[Asterisk619]

Marrow struts quickly up to the dias with everyone else, only slightly admiring all the shininess and gaudiness. He by far had nothing as lavish as this, but Halfling royalty for sure knew how to live in comfort. He dressed in his most clean and fine outfit to greet the Duke while he tries to remember to keep his hand off of his rapier in his presence. Last time something like that happened he got cold c*cked in the jaw by some measly nobleman's guard. He answers Lord Greymane without hesitation knowing how impatient some of these nobles can be.

"I am known as Garrett Strongheart, Baron of Littlehill, to many of my noble acquaintances. But call me what you please if you think our services will not suffice in what you are asking of us, sir."

He feels the nudge from the other Halfling which finally brings his attention to the others that have joined him. Well, these folk sure don't look like they've ever seen nobility up close. Must be in it for the gold I suppose. Wait, that's why I'm here too hehehe Marrow snickers to himself as he looks over the group, a Halfling jokester *sigh* I've been asked too many times to tell jokes or perform, and here he is helping the stereotype I've spent years to shrug off...Could be worse, there could be a grumpy, hairy....Dwarf...greeaat. He assumes the Human and Half-orc have a level head about them, at least while addressing a person of high authority that is.

Marrow then brings his attention back to Lord Greymane, "It is quite a daunting task, that is true. However I'm sure with my leadership we can pull this off, my Lord. We can set off as soon as you will it."

[DSCrankshaw]

Dain looks around the audience room. It's pretty big, as far as human palaces go, but it's not really close to dwarven scale. Still, this is clearly someone important among the humans. He bows carefully. He was wearing his finest clothes, his boots recently polished and his hair and beard freshly combed.

He smiles at the halfling who elbows him. "We'll see."

He bows to the Duke. "My name is Dain Gorunn, Skald of Dalvesh, My Lord."

[Blink]

The Duke’s gaze moves from one one of you to the next as you speak, his eyes hard and serious. There is no levity here, no casual banter or witty rejoinders. This is a matter of state concerning the safety of the realm and it’s people, and it is clear that Jarden Greymane is not taking this matter lightly.

He scowls darkly at Roscoe’s flippant attitude, ”You will address me properly or not at all,” his voice is cold as he reprimands the halfling for his lack of etiquette.

His gaze passes over Olivia and he gives her the slightest of nods, ”Lady Olivia” is all the acknowledgment he gives before moving on to Agro.

His gaze lingers on the haf-orc for a moment, taking in the man’s insignia marking him as a soldier of the realm. Lord Greymane nods again, ”My thnks Master Agro.”

Looking to Dain, the Duke seems to pause for a moment, apparently not expecting to see a dwarf answering his summons, and the corner of his mouth twitches in the briefest of smirks before he nods his acknowledgment.

Then he turns to fully face Marrow as the little man introduces himself as a Baron. A deep frown darkens the Duke’s stern face as he regards the halfling coldly, ”Master...Strongheart,” he draws out the name, pointedly not using the title of baron, ”Truly I must be a negligent ruler, else my mind fails me in my old age. I cannot recall ever meeting you before, and I am sure I have met with every land holder in the north. Nor can I recall your name being spoken by any at court,” the imposing man clasps his hands behind his back and comes to stand at the edge of the dais, looming over the halfling standing below him, ”Tell me, sir. Do you think me negligent, or feeble minded?” It is obviously a loaded question, edged in anger.

[Asterisk619]

Marrow starts to look rather nervous. The only times he's seen this look on a noble is right before he would get thrown behind bars. So when he answers the Duke he begins to talk faster in a nervous haste.

"Ah, neither, my Lord. My apologies, allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Marrow Swifthand, I also go by the codename 'Fingers.' If you would excuse my nerves, I thought it a grand idea to help Nordenheim in this time of need. My family has been down on coin since the war. Our whole home destroyed by Dwarven Barbarians. Going back to the Fields of Woe fills me with images that once were. So if you would have a cocky charlatan under your employ, I shall wholeheartedly pledge my services to you and to these others before me, good sir. No tricks, no scams, that is the truth.

Marrow had never felt so small until today. It seems he still has a long way to go before he will ever feel 'larger than life.'

[Orsik Vondal]

Roscoe Brittlebark - Halfling Barbarian

Of course he's gonna intimidate the normal sized folk. Tryin' to put me in my place. Well, he's just lucky
I came to help! When I come back, he'll be the one addressing me properly!

Roscoe scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. Less chitchat, more action, please!

[El'the Ellie]

Olive looks nervously between the two halflings: one chastised and one scowling. She rubs the back of Aerus's ear quietly, watching the Duke to see what he will do. She's never been much around nobility, but she half expected someone to get thrown out in a second.

[DSCrankshaw]

Dain frowns deeply at the situation before him. He supposes they're about to find out what kind of man this Duke is. Is he the sort to toss them all behind bars because one of them insults him and another lies to him? The last thing he wanted was to spend years in prison, though if it comes down to it, he would probably outlive this duke, his children, and his grandchildren.