Open Chronicles A Foolhardy Quest

[Serratia Delacour]

The Spine. The location where many are lost, never to be seen again. The place where strange and beautiful legends are rumored to reside. The area where a cold frost-bitten wind blows. That was her journey's destination.

Serratia Delacour scoured the shelves of the store for Littlerush Oil. Where was it? Oh, there it was, sitting on the bottom shelf out of her line of sight. She picked up the bottle and deposited it with the rest of her items. Dried meats, biscuits, a metal pot, a fire starter... what else did she need? She already had purchased a thick coat on her sojourn over. Likewise, waterproof boots covered her feet. It would be a tough journey, but she had accepted the quest-- the first one that had come from afar-- to kill the troll that was terrorizing the village of Aerbon. She had a three days' walk before she came to the village, then she would begin her hunt.

A crimson dragon hunting a thick-skinned terror. This was her kind of quest.

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[Hath Charosh]

The rangy orc pulled the snow encrusted scarf further up his face. Used to the dry heat of the Aberresai Savannah, he was still adjusting to the climate. Hath had been staying with the Ashlander tribe, but as ever his feet had wanted to take him on the road. Not that there were roads here. There was more scrabbling and climbing than running.

Hath dropped onto his haunches, surveying the ground ahead. He could see rising smoke in the distance. The region was dangerous and he had to pick a careful path through the mountains. There were blight orcs in the area, ambushing settlement or forcing tribes to join their forces. He had seen them from a distance at Belgrath. A bristling carpet of armoured orcs with pikes on the march.

If it was another spine tribe or human settlement then he might be able to get some shelter from the elements. A roof over his head and a fire beneath his fingers would be welcome. Of course, if it was a human settlement he would have to use his poor grasp of their language to explain himself and convince them he was coming for trade, not raiding.

 

[Cosimo Imiliane]

Smoke coiled from a camp fire into the crisp mountain air. Cross-legged before the fire sat a large figure in Kaliti garb, with strange lamellar armor and an array of swords and a bow on the cold, needle-strewn earth beside him.

His eyes were closed and long, dark hair spilled from his head in intricate braids that fell across his blue-skinned face. His lips moved wordlessly, though he sat still as a statue.

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

The Spine was home to the old folk, humans who had lived here for countless generations along side orcs and dwarves. The place was also now home to human settlers coming out of various places. The idea of untapped riches and a lack of any ruler or lord was attractive to many. Aerbon was one of those settler homes. So when they had a problem they handled it the way settlers did: put up a bounty or find outside help.

The bounty was not why Weylin had come to the town. He had heard from one of the old folk he had past about this troll causing problems by scaring away or stealing prey from the hunters. The old folk of the area knew where to go to find better grounds. This sort of thing happened after all. But for the settlers it was not so easy to deal with. They were tied down more to one place than the old folk and needed to deal with the problem. Weylin decided to help them deal with it.

Weylin just watched everyone walking around the town square. He had given himself a bit of distance to do this. It was partly out of habit and partly because he still was still a little paranoid the place would be raided. Humans here had a complex relationship with the orc tribes, but one or more foreign tribes had recently forced their way into the Spine and begun to raid orc and human alike. He knew it wasn't about to happen, but he still had some primal fear in him.

The bounty on the board offered a reward for those after the troll. Weylin couldn't read the words but knew the numbers and the general picture of what a troll looked like on it. Well the picture was kind of like a troll but it was clear the artist had never seen one before. It was naked instead of covered in fur. Also it had tusks when both the lower and upper canines were long. The eyes were that sort of dumb intelligence trolls had though. He was watching those who took an interest in it so he would know who was after the thing. They would likely need help to not get lost and probably to keep themselves alive. The Spine was far more dangerous than all the trolls it contained could ever be.

Serratia Delacour Hath Charosh Grozkalla