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Ariamis
pugbutterGarren Drosh & Sir Dirron Tavner
The salty breeze of the sea was tainted by a certain foulness, one that Garren just couldn't quite pinpoint. He remembered how the stories of the sea spoke of the smell so much more fondly than what he thought of it now, and after such a long journey he was growing tired of it. It seemed like ages ago that he wished to be sailing as he did now, on a ship bound for some adventurer's guild making a last ditch effort to save the world - give or take a few details here and there, of course - but now that he was doing just that... it just didn't feel right.
He was certain that this was the right choice... but, then, why did it feel so wrong? He wasn't just doing it for the glory, was he? Certainly, there would be glory in it, but that couldn't be the only reason he had to help, could it? No, of course not! Garren always did his best to excercise humility, at least when he wasn't drunk. He was doing this for Sirrendyl. After all, it was his fault for distracting the masses from the danger that had been at their doorstep and leaving his homeland in such a vulnerable state.
There was a knock at the door, and Garren looked over to see a man with a lantern standing in the door way - one of the sailors aboard the ship. "Don't ye ever take yer armor off?" He asked as the ship groaned.
Giving him a stern look, not that the sailor could tell, Garren let out a sigh and shook his head. Looking down at his hands, Garren watched the floor as the light got closer. "Say, I wonder ta where that talkative fella went? Cause ye certainly ain't 'im." The sailor continued with a smirk, clearly trying to joke around. Realizing how futile an attempt he had made, the smile disappeared from the sailor's face. "Look, I dunno know what's the matter but I'll leave ye to it. Just thought ye'd want ta know we're approaching Venridge now. Get yerself ready ta disembark, we'll be there shortly." The man finished, the floorboards creaking as he turned to leave. Once out of the doorway the sailor was met by another, but this one was a woman.
"How's our charge faring? Might he be seasick? Haven't heard his loud mouth all bloody day." She said with a chuckle, glancing into the poorly lit room. "Seems so..."
"Thinkin' he's pretty down in the gutter meself, wouldnae speak a word ta me. Makes me think we left ol' Garren the gladiatior behind, an' picked us up some kind o' poser. But thas his armor an' weapons ta be certain." The first sailor replied, gesturing through the door towards Garren.
"Right... so how's about we stop standin' 'round here in the doorway and help bring 'er into port, ay?" The lady sailor asked as she started to head back up to the deck, the other sailor following and taking the lantern with him. Returned to relative darkness, Garren decided to light a lantern of his own and gather his things.
Dirron,
I hope this letter finds you well, son, I know how cold this world can be. You're last package arrived a few days ago along with your last letter. Your mother was worried to death upon reading of your fight with the wights. I do admit, you gave me a fright but I knew that this letter alone ment you were alright. The homestead is doing well, as well as it can be atleast. The estate itself is fine but we harvest less from the fields each year. Many have gone to the cities for shelter, your mother suggested we do the same but I remember what predators lurk there. For now we'll remain on the property, I'll take your mother to your uncle if things get to dangerous here. I don't mean to put pressure on you, lad, but whatever plan is forging in your head better be ready quick. The decay is getting worse but I know that if there's anyone capable of sorting all this out its you. Good luck to you, son.
Love, Your Father
No time was wasted in folding up the letter and returning it to his bag. This was the last stop for his group before their task began and he wished for it to be over with quickly. In the dead woods near Venridge, a new breed of monster had taken residence. For weeks it had been terrorizing the refugees along the roads to Venridge. This new creature, in addition to the bandits and highwaymen who stalked these roads, had made travel to Venridge almost impossible.
"Sir, the men are ready", Erik called over to his commander from the campfire. The young man had joined The Conclave to be a Seeker with his only combat experience being swatting at foxes from the hen house with his family's pitchfork. The Conclave had little in the way of an actual army or infrastructure, so the only backup Dirron would have was a group of farm boys. Even so, it would not stop him from performing his duties.
"Very well, gather round, here is the plan", Dirron awaited his comrades to surround the stump upon which a layout of the suspected den was placed. "Its an underground den, so I will enter and try to lead the creature out. Our archers will stand above the entrance, on this here mound. Once the beast is outside, fire at will. I will continue to distract it while the first group of spearmen will get behind it and block off its escape back into the cave. Once that is done, our mage will hit it with everything he's got, keep it confused and hurting. With all that, it should be easy for us to close in and slay the monster. Archers, watch your fire, you'll be aiming near us. Same goes for our mage, Jadur, watch those spells. As for the rest of you, follow the plan and watch out for eachother. If we do this right, all of us get to go home"
That was a week ago. Dirron and his men managed to slay the abomination, but only the mage and three spearmen survived. The others were killed, their deaths were slow and anything but painless. Now the knight stood at the entrance of a cave, another mission to do, another monster to kill. That was the only conclusion he could make as to the reason for the exploration party's disappearance. Somewhere in those caves was another abomination, waiting to claim more lives. "They have us waiting for when they gather up enough Seekers to do this...more meat for the chopping block", Dirron's eyes were fixed on the city, their position giving him a decent view of Venridge and the coast. "Garren, what do you think the chances are that there's some sort of demonspawn down in those caves?", Dirron's gaze never moved as he spoke to the former gladiator. His cold stare seemed to almost peer into ones soul. Such was his way of dealing with loss. Whenever tragedy struck, the knight would become like the dead, cold and unmoving. "I wager ten silver that whatever is down there is an ambusher. Damn thing probably prefers to seperate and confuse its prey, the damned weakling shit"
"Well that hardly seems fair, I thought I'd told ya I don't gamble these days?" Said Garren, who was sitting on a nearby rock with his arms folded. "I'll wager double that whatever it is, it's blind. The nasty bastard lives in a cave as large as the locals say this place is supposed to be? Yeah, I'll bet it's blind and cunning as all hell..." He continued, clearning his throat afterwards.
"I'm betting its small too, cant be too big when stalking in a cave...still want to take that bet?"
"Ah, hell, I got tha coin so why not, yeah? I'm feelin'... maybe some kind of spidery thing? Spiders like dark places, and there's a whole lotsa dark down there. Never-the-less my friend, we'll live to see it killed." Garren posited, standing up and stretching his arms. "At least... I know I will." He added as a joke, smirking under his helm.
"The day is young, any idea when the reinforcements will arrive? I hate waiting around for this sort of work"
