Updates
Season: Early Fall/Late Summer
Time Of Day: 7:52am
Weather: Slightly overcast but still sunny
General Ambiance: The town of Stockton seems to be rather cheerful, many people preparing for the festivities of the Elvish festival celebrating the arrival of Fall and ending of the Cycle of Birth.
Location: Stockton
Setting: Stockton is a large town heavily influenced by the Elvish heritage many of the inhabitants have as well as the proximity to the mostly Elvish lands to the west. Much of the town is built from simple yet hardy wood, so much so that it seems more like a part of a forest than a large city built by humans and Elves alike. Trees line many streets and some even grow as centerpieces of entire houses. People are lively even though the threat of monsters is still in the air.
”Ack, this town smells too much of musty wood and rain to me. I don’t know how ye humans can live like this. The stone tis better, though cold, and never rots. Me family would think I’ve gone crazy if they saw me living in a place like this, said the stout dwarf sitting astride on his pony, an amusing sight for sure for anybody who was paying attention. Darathor had been out of his home for so long that he yearned for the stone itself yet he couldn’t deny that his adventures with his current companion was not full of interesting stories and events. A town like Stockton was nothing new to him, many of the towns west of Julas Fort and Tommen Hold were like it. They were a mixture of ethnic backgrounds, humans and elves contributing to the design of the city. He had even been to Certruri Cerce and which seemed more like the Orcish holds from Cour-Rath and Southern Aurelion.
”Ha, if cold stone and the smell of fungus is your fancy then I’m sure you must love the smell of the cave Master Dwarf. Your kind have always bewildered me. I don’t see how you dwarves think that the night sky is not beautiful or the feeling of rain wonderful. Perhaps ye should’ve just stayed underground. Or, on the off chance, should’ve chose another profession than being a Scribe at least,” answered Darathor’s companion, a large man wearing the armor of the Vigliants yet with a wide smile on his face. Unlike his companion, Sir Gormun loved the towns he had been too. The people were lively, living not in fear like others he had seen. They trusted him, knew of his actions as a warrior and leader, and even celebrated his captaincy years back. Yet, not everything was nice and happy in the towns. Some saw the Vigilants as leeches, sucking blood out of people who had already been drained dry. They were the Vigilants who used the monsters as a chance to earn coin, the Vigilants Gormun could do nothing to get rid of yet had created his company of soldiers into a force for good and not for coin. He accepted only small amounts of food and drink as payment, some coin in its place as provisions were needed to be bought occasionally.
Darathor grumbled at his companion's response, looking away and at the people who lined the streets. ”Whatever ye say you crazy man. I just want our business to be over here till we return to Tommen Hold or even Hightower. I wish for new from my family on the birth of me cousin!”
Gormun’s sigh was enough of an answer for Darathor to know that there was little chance that they’d leave anytime soon. ”If it were that simple, we’d be on our way home by now. But you know as well as I do that we have to be here till the festival is over. So many people in such a small space, it is impossible to keep them all safe with simply the guards allotted to the town normally. We need to protect them from the monsters drawn this way by their weird migrations. I don’t even understand what the Elves were talking about when they hired us to do this job, but we will do it as well as we can. It is our duty to the people.” Gormun’s small speech, as Darathor had come to refer to it in his time with the man, had always seemed to inspire the dwarf. More so than the idea that the story of a bunch of soldiers fighting off monsters attacking a town of merry would be an amusing one. Gormun was right though the man didn’t understand what the Elves meant, that was what Darathor was for. It seemed to the dwarf that the monsters were naturally drawn west and south once Fall begins for those seem to be the warmer lands. The monsters acted very much like normal creatures and followed these patterns but some had none at all, preferring to go wherever they wanted with no goal at all.
”Well, ye’ve got me on board boyo. For the time being though, I think we should see about getting some help. Yer commander didn’t give you much for such and important mission. Only fifty men? I swear that man has it out fer ya.”
”That he very well may Master Dwarf. We’ll see if we can get some mercenaries to help I guess,” sighed the Knight. He certainly was facing a difficult mission ahead of him to protect the town from monsters if he only was going to do as such with fifty men.