Recent content by Tarid Ra’leem

When Tarid arrived, Jurgon’s three sons were busy playing in the same sort of mock-battle he had with his own brothers growing up. When Jurgon called out for them, they ignored the request. Much as he and his brothers had. Jurgon had not lied that the house was chaotic, but Tarid found it to be...

It was a small disappointment that she wasn't immediately available. Tarid wondered whether the meeting would be worth the wait, given the doubt Jurgon placed in Ilse's wisdom. But it was the only lead that Tarid was aware of. Better to pursue questionable information, than to investigate...

It seemed the tales were as likely to be fiction as they were to carry any accuracy. It wasn't uncommon for communities to form their own fables for some ulterior purpose. Commonly to keep folks from places or activities, exactly as Jurgon described. From Jurgon's expression at the conclusion of...

“I fare well as I always do when there's a full drink in my hand – I hope the evening finds you just as well, too!” Tarid mirthfully replied, still pleased with himself over his believed victory and the spoken acclimation from a man as distinguished as Murk Altov. Murk was a master of the arcane...

Tarid listened as Jurgon told his tale of sorrow, one that he had just laid regretful witness upon. Of a day that began much as any other, only to be cruelly interrupted by the unexpected assault on the spriggans. Once surrounded by friends, Jurgon recounted his tale alone to Tarid, who had hung...

Distracted by Murk's display, Tarid remained unaware of any errors in pronunciation when Josai handed him his drink. “Thank you kindly.” He replied, filled with false pride that he'd pronounced the drink properly – and on the first try, no less!

“Oh, of course.” Tarid replied, glancing over to the sign written in a language he'd only recently learned to read. “...I'll have a glass of 'pin-not no-ear'”

"Nah, I'm not much of a drink'r myself, but if y'know 'bout any places dat serve somethin' decent t' eat then let me know, Tarry!~" Spoke Gromat. “Likewise, a lot of the food here is so bland. Bhathairk is great, lots of properly spiced food there. We'll share a meal.” Tarid replied. Bhathairk...

A burning axe? Why, that idea was as wild as the man who suggested it. A valuable ally, and fine and fun company, too. The notion of sharing an ale with the man over at the mess hall elated him, and his manner of speech was further endearing. “An offer I’ll have to take you up upon Gromat, once...

Tarid hacked and slashed at all he could, bringing his sword down again and again to cleave whatever plantlife made motion. Working at a rapid pace, he continued until the forest floor was still. Uncertain whether his efforts had been to any effect, he could at least rest assured that he had...

Tarid had asked a question, and the answer left him just as uncertain. Shallows implied it was going to depend on how dutiful he'd been, and well, maybe it was better not to take the risk. “...What other drinks are you serving?”

The name was off putting, and Tarid hoped it wasn’t as it sounded. “Uh, cup of piss? Please tell me that’s an eastern euphemism.”

It had been a long day of training, and Tarid happily pushed the doors open with the renewed energy that accompanied the moment of respite he was now afforded. The smell of mead was in the air, and the scent did not escape Syr Guernot either, who commented on it aloud. “I have to agree, that...

Tarid swung with strength, but could not predict the swift defensive barrier summoned forth by Grasping Roots. Blighted treelife from the surrounding forest rushed inwards just in time to obstruct the spear of frigid ice Josai had conjured and propelled forth. The mass of twisted wood provided...

The lobbed container of oil flew skyward , and to his fortune, his aim was true. Glass shattered and oil soaked his foe, all while the bird provided a continued distraction. Grasping Roots was having little luck at dealing with either of them, for the oil carried the added effect of rendering...