Ends Justify Means

Death

Everyone died in a horrible bloody car accident.

None of my players are using this website so… no point.

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A curious tale...

“So you started out as a slave, eh?”

The old man asked Edmund suspiciously.

The young thief across the table from him simply nodded in response, he then took a long draught of ale before continuing the story.

“Aye, then I was a gladiator in Lady Janthana Lilyfield’s arena.”

Edmund set his goblet down on the table, giving the elderly man a hard stare for a moment before he started speaking again.

“After I had won some notability in the arena she pulled me out of that accursed pit and stuck me with that sorry bunch over there.”

He jabbed a thumb at the table behind him where four creatures were seated. Each one was digging into a pig that had been spitted just for their group.

Edmund glanced over his shoulder at this point to see if any of the group was watching or listening to him. They aren’t actually that bad… he thought to himself, eyeing the large bugbear whose only seemed to be able to say what race it was. stupid brute. he thought bitterly, it had a name of course, ‘Mr. mopps’ he was called. Edmund had no idea why it was named that, except that maybe the Mistress had used him to mop the floor.

His gaze then shifted to the Cleric that was seated beside the beast. Sorrow was a human, like Edmund, and was a very pragmatic fellow. He was more intelligent than Edmund was, or perhaps he just liked to think highly of himself. Sorrow sometimes used big words that Edmund didn’t understand, but he usually could grasp the meanings behind what the cleric said.

Then there was the dragon born, named Akra Donnis, whose back was to Edmund. He disliked Akra for no real reason, and Edmund knew it. That didn’t stop him from hoping that somewhere along the road he would get a chance to give the surprisingly intelligent creature a bit of a trick. Beside Akra was the last part of this depressing assignment. (character: Torik)

Edmund sighed as he turned back to the old man he had been talking to.

“They made it through the arena somehow as well, not at the same time as me of course… I’m the only one left from my gladiator squad.”

He took a long draught of his ale, slamming it back onto the table. He missed those guys, they were a good group. Always telling each other their ideas, and making them work on the battlefield. Edmund didn’t know how this group faught, if there was any form of communication during a fight or if they just let Mr. Mopps go in and tear things apart.

That was then, and this was now. He thought as a dour expression crossed his face.

“Heard they were part of The Wolves.”

The old man mused softly, mostly speaking to himself.

Edmund’s keen ears heard him though, and he laughed. Laughed at the man’s ignorance, laughed at the four beings behind him being inducted into the wolves, and lastly laughed at the joke that was this assignment.

Lady Lilyfield had tasked them with it herself, so it must have been important to her. Edmund drained the rest of his goblet and set it back down on the table. Speaking to this old man had been useless, he had hoped to glean some information about which route to take to Arsk. He knew the road through T’Lell, but wanted to avoid that city as much as possible. The way through the Ourea Mountains was bound to be trouble at this time of year, and they couldn’t very well go down the river, there were rapids between Tosno and Arsk and he didn’t like water when it was still.

Edmund slowly stood, turning on his heel he made his way to the bar and flagged down the serving girl.

“A round for the old man, and the table with the bugbear.” He said, quickly turning and taking a seat beside the cleric. He didn’t want anyone in this grungy way-house to get a good look at his face.

Belward Jadehorn. he thought for a moment, summoning up an image of the minotaur into his mind’s eye. Nothing really special about him… Except that he likes to gore people on his horns, and wear them like hats.

The ale arrived, while the server was passing the pints around he managed to pick her pocket. He counted the coins quickly. Perfect, she even gets a tip. He thought as he handed the recently aquired coins to the serving girl.

He couldn’t help but be pleased with himself, more for being able to do what he had just done than for doing it. He hadn’t been on the road for a while and a free round on the first night of this new adventure was a welcome Omen.

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