D&D Session Notes - July 11th & August 1st
Aug. 8th, 2019 07:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hopepunkI've neglected you, journal, but it has been a constant struggle to keep head above water, as it were. Seems I am always doing something, and never know what will be coming next ... What I wouldn't give for a bit of stability! We have been in this village for a few months now, and I admit, it is what one calls "a mixed bag". The Church of Pelor here is small but well-apportioned, and I have been searching their libraries for anything that might help me decipher the script and dialect of the book I brought away from Exodus. One of my contacts said he may know someone who knows a little of it, so we shall see what comes of that.
In the meantime, my unlikely companions and I have discovered that there are only two ways to make a living in the village: as indentured servants, or by running errands for various guilds in the city. If one does not have a prescribed errand, one must become a servant. They do not look well upon vagabonds here, since the number of refugees makes things tenuous at best. I would much rather work in a library, but freelance jobs repairing manuscripts only earn a fellow so much money, so ... I keep an eye on my traveling companions and have been getting to know them all little by little.
J'ael is an affable sort, and we tend to get on best - an odd thing for a cleric to say of a tiefling, but he is entertaining, even if his collection of "favors" troubles me. I already owe him one, and worry what might happen when it comes due, but ... in the course of one of our earlier errands, it did become necessary. Eliara, Mathias, and Tish keep to themselves, largely, and I don't suppose I blame them. Tish seems especially shrewd, and Eliara is a monk, so ... they're not necessarily known for being social, are they? I do wonder sometimes about Mathias. He's capable, and clever, but occasionaly he says something which doesn't quite seem to fit the rest of what we know about him. And don't get me started on a dwarf who constantly makes excuses for "night blindness"!
Anyway, little book, I am taking all this down as we wait for J'ael and Tish to arrive. They went to go and meet with someone about something J'ael called "a job", with far too large of a smile to be trusted. Over the last few days, we made the acquaintance of an actual were-creature: a massive man named Rory who inherited his ancestors' ability to turn into a bear. I suppose the young son J'ael charmed with his coin and card tricks is in for quite the surprise when he comes of age. (Note to self. Ask him to teach me those tricks. They. Are. Delightful. As was the fried rice from The Golden Duck. Never judge a pub by its cover, but by its rice.) We were meant to track the bear, as it was suspected in several disappearances, but Rory led us to the true culprits, enemies of his own: a band of were-rats. They were mostly employees at a tavern run by a dwarf named Bammy - short, short-tempered, and enthusiastic. What her food lacks in taste, her ale makes up for in potency. Bammy was suprisingly ambivalent to the fact that the lot of us uncovered the were-rats' "nest" in the basement: a hidden corridor in the sewers where the missing people had been captured and - oh. Even trying to pen it makes my gorge rise again. Suffice to say that all we found were bones.
We collected a rewawrd for tracking the bear, and Mathias, Eliara and I went into the woods to complete a request for some foraging. Not only did I find a splendid little field guide in the Pelorian libarary, but we managed to get some of the plants and mushrooms requested - even if Mathias doesn't know a dandelion from a day lily. Maybe he's not used to being above ground... I really shouldn't. I suppose I'm still a little shaken from the owlbear.
OH YES, THERE WAS AN OWLBEAR. RIGHT THERE IN THE BUSHES, LARGE AS YOU PLEASE.
Thank Pelor we managed to back away without making it angry ... I doubt the three of us could have taken it without the others to assist. EIther way ... they're bound to be back soon. I spent a good portion of the morning trying to find a home with more free will in the way of profession, but all of the cities seem to be running more or less on the same system. I do not look forward to acclimating to this life: every time I have to draw newly silvered steel to defend myself, I hear my father's voice shouting orders in my ear. But there are wonders to be found as well, mysteries to solve, the sort of exciting new things that Mother would have thrilled at. And if we travel these cities, I may have the opportunity to meet more of my manuscript collection network! That would be a treat, decidedly. So. For knowledge, the gaining and the protection of it. For life, and the living of it. Whatever those two rascals come back with, I shall go.
In the meantime, my unlikely companions and I have discovered that there are only two ways to make a living in the village: as indentured servants, or by running errands for various guilds in the city. If one does not have a prescribed errand, one must become a servant. They do not look well upon vagabonds here, since the number of refugees makes things tenuous at best. I would much rather work in a library, but freelance jobs repairing manuscripts only earn a fellow so much money, so ... I keep an eye on my traveling companions and have been getting to know them all little by little.
J'ael is an affable sort, and we tend to get on best - an odd thing for a cleric to say of a tiefling, but he is entertaining, even if his collection of "favors" troubles me. I already owe him one, and worry what might happen when it comes due, but ... in the course of one of our earlier errands, it did become necessary. Eliara, Mathias, and Tish keep to themselves, largely, and I don't suppose I blame them. Tish seems especially shrewd, and Eliara is a monk, so ... they're not necessarily known for being social, are they? I do wonder sometimes about Mathias. He's capable, and clever, but occasionaly he says something which doesn't quite seem to fit the rest of what we know about him. And don't get me started on a dwarf who constantly makes excuses for "night blindness"!
Anyway, little book, I am taking all this down as we wait for J'ael and Tish to arrive. They went to go and meet with someone about something J'ael called "a job", with far too large of a smile to be trusted. Over the last few days, we made the acquaintance of an actual were-creature: a massive man named Rory who inherited his ancestors' ability to turn into a bear. I suppose the young son J'ael charmed with his coin and card tricks is in for quite the surprise when he comes of age. (Note to self. Ask him to teach me those tricks. They. Are. Delightful. As was the fried rice from The Golden Duck. Never judge a pub by its cover, but by its rice.) We were meant to track the bear, as it was suspected in several disappearances, but Rory led us to the true culprits, enemies of his own: a band of were-rats. They were mostly employees at a tavern run by a dwarf named Bammy - short, short-tempered, and enthusiastic. What her food lacks in taste, her ale makes up for in potency. Bammy was suprisingly ambivalent to the fact that the lot of us uncovered the were-rats' "nest" in the basement: a hidden corridor in the sewers where the missing people had been captured and - oh. Even trying to pen it makes my gorge rise again. Suffice to say that all we found were bones.
We collected a rewawrd for tracking the bear, and Mathias, Eliara and I went into the woods to complete a request for some foraging. Not only did I find a splendid little field guide in the Pelorian libarary, but we managed to get some of the plants and mushrooms requested - even if Mathias doesn't know a dandelion from a day lily. Maybe he's not used to being above ground... I really shouldn't. I suppose I'm still a little shaken from the owlbear.
OH YES, THERE WAS AN OWLBEAR. RIGHT THERE IN THE BUSHES, LARGE AS YOU PLEASE.
Thank Pelor we managed to back away without making it angry ... I doubt the three of us could have taken it without the others to assist. EIther way ... they're bound to be back soon. I spent a good portion of the morning trying to find a home with more free will in the way of profession, but all of the cities seem to be running more or less on the same system. I do not look forward to acclimating to this life: every time I have to draw newly silvered steel to defend myself, I hear my father's voice shouting orders in my ear. But there are wonders to be found as well, mysteries to solve, the sort of exciting new things that Mother would have thrilled at. And if we travel these cities, I may have the opportunity to meet more of my manuscript collection network! That would be a treat, decidedly. So. For knowledge, the gaining and the protection of it. For life, and the living of it. Whatever those two rascals come back with, I shall go.