Most of my towns have 2-3 defining characteristics that make them stand out as locations on their own and not to be confused with the other cities the group visits. But as have been pointed out with my current group - the naming convention of some of my towns have been in place for 20, 25, or even 30 years in real time.
So Falcor's Rise does generate the odd guffaw and cries of 'Falcor!!' from the table. As does Bork Keep and the Swedish Chef impressions of 'Bork bork bork'.
Whatever. Pbbth. :)
Write up follows:
Once inside we asked around and got directions to an inn called “The Experience” not too far from the main square. As for Falcor’s Rise, it was mostly an orcish town from its construction to its populace. The streets were ordered but not too neat, some of the grassy areas had succumbed to mud, and there was a bit of depression about the entire place. Also, many of the building had marking standards upon them, indicative that literacy was limited here at best.At The Experience we were met by a half-orcish wench who seemed unimpressed with us before directing us to see Merk the proprietor if we wanted to stay. The clientele were afternoon drunkards and there was an area in the back where some sort of fighting would take place as evidenced by the roping area.
Merk took our order, we mostly bough some dark stouts and sandwiches of mutton, and then sat and talked about what to do. Most of the group didn’t want to stay, the place giving off the “rob you while you sleep” feel. As for the name, Mark eventually came over and let us know that in the evening they have Feats of Strength where you try to smash a barrel open with a Warhammer from a distance. And then afterwards, they have Trial by Axe where you try to sever a wench’s braid with a thrown axe.
Most of us were horrified but Brading was pretty stoked. We dispensed with staying here and made our way out (the young dwarf holding back long enough to drop some copper coins in Merk’s hand to save him a spot and room for later) and then took better view of where to go and what to do.
We had 2 days to kill so we asked around after getting to a clothier and weavers where we decked out a bit more in clothing lost, had some fur lining added to our cloaks, and did some shopping. We asked for a better place to stay and was told the “Iron Pen” was a good place to stay and was a bit further in town. It was while we were here and wrapping up that one of the older women working the loom made her way to the front of the store to get a bolt of cloth when she gripped Barb’s arm tightly and with rolled over white eyes hissed at her in a quiet voice, “Beware girl, the Blue Boar has been released” and then let her go and shook it off, eyes rolling back to normal.
No one else noticed this.
At that exact moment, right outside the shop a fat raven gave a raucous squawk, fixed an eye on Barb, and then flew off to another building.
She grabbed Darius and told him what happened and the then the party finished their shopping and made their way outside where we saw 1, and then a 2nd raven take off from nearby roofs and then wing away. The feeling was the Ravenstone was the nexus for this and that the Blue Boar was most likely a person, not an actual animal. We were going to keep our eyes peeled for now.
At Eoghan’s request, we went to a local Bowyer named Flabo who repurposed older bows, and bought a simple short bow for him, happy with the price and comfortable with his skills. From there it was to the Iron Pen where the much better clientele, cleaner room, larger space, and busier staff made us more comfortable that our original choice (except for Brading who still wanted to try the other bar).
It turned out they also did Feats of Strength and we signed up, with Dwarf Tossing to follow! Which we ALSO signed up for! Including Brading and the “Tossee”. We talked to the staff and learned about the cold and that there was a White Dragon that awakens every winter for 2 months and hunts these lands named Icingheart. Hides in the clouds, comes with the snow, almost impossible to see and find – most people just live with it as the dragon avoids the cities and towns and picks off lonely and small groups of easy targets in the wilderness when able to.
As for the games, we had a great time with money being spent, some of us getting some coins for busting barrels and even Darius being allowed to participate in the dwarf toss as the Half-Ogres in the area said to “let the little man have a shot!”. With Darius getting a respectable 12’ on tossing Brading onto some laid out mattresses. Many threw further than him, some threw less. When Barb gave her dwarf a toss and only got 11’ she caught Darius doing a little victory dance and raised arms that she punched him in the kidney and dropped the fighter to the ground with a grunting snarl of “Stop gloating.” From the look Darius gave her, there would be payback at some point.
But the days passed and it was Deathmonth the 9th that we left the town of Falcor’s Rise, travelled down the highway back to the south and west, and then broke trail where Eoghan and Barb suggested would take us back to the woodcutter’s cottage. Sure enough, even with the accumulated frost and frozen dew, it was obvious that someone else was here, stayed a bit, and then left. 1 set of horse prints from a heavy warhorse and 2 humans, male, booted – came about 2 days ago and left yesterday.
We followed the trail.
By the time 7 PM came and the night had fallen, we knew we still had some time to go. But the temperature was now in the low 20’s and dropping and the amount of cloud cover was increasing. How much further? Brading climbed one of the many Douglas Firs in the area until he was able to look in the direction we were traveling. Maybe 2 miles from here was a thin glow on the horizon – small town, large Thorpe? Camp?
We decided to camp here and set up cloaks, blankets, and lengths of wood and boughs to act as a vision break. Gathering wood we all got around the fire and one by one, took watch and slept the night away. The next morning the sky was steel grey and the promise of snow was on the air. It was by 8 AM that we were on the way as we trudged ever north and west.
Eventually we arrived at a ranch of sorts. Maybe 20 sharecrofter huts, 5 larger building, organized fields. About 15 odd people tilling what fields they could, gathering winter tubers. We made their way closer, the entire place reminding us very much of the layout of Durcent but a bit smaller. Maciles? Ostlerson?
We approached a husband and wife pair in the fields and talked with them, learning this was the Ostlerson Demesne, and the lord was Lord Gregor Ostlerson. There were 5 main buildings: the manorhouse, the granary, the traders, the tavern, and the gathering hall/church. And we could see the line of the prints in the snow did get lost in the fields a bit but headed without error right towards the Manorhouse.Shit.
We made our way to the Tavern where we had a drink and startled the tavern keeper enough to signal a large heavy set man near the end of the bar. He sauntered over, holding his gut in and holding a truncheon. The feeling was local tough going to pot. He identified himself as Irgar and said he was a deputy for Sheriff Fersic Gregson. Who were we, what did we want, what were we doing here? Suspected we were mercenaries and suggested we move on. We said we would but the snow was coming, anyplace we can stay?
Were told we had to ask at the Manorhouse. We said we didn’t want to bother the lord and were told that ALL the homes here were owned by the local Lord, and if we wanted to stay, go and talk to him about it – otherwise finish your drink and move on.
We got the hint.
Irgar was Deputy? Was Thurbarn NOT Sheriff? What was going on? It’s been 11 days but still – what’s happening? We were told by the tavernkeep that there was lots of issues in the Western part of the Province but here, things were fine. And Sheriff Fersic? Come every 3 days give or take – was just here a day or two ago.
We made our way to the Manorhouse where we were told by the guards to wait while they get someone to deal with us. They were rude and unwilling to talk, but one of them was a trainer of wolfhounds and did get into a spirited conversation with Eoghan about his wolf. Eventually a tall well dressed, rich looking man with a sneer on his bald head came out. He was the Janissary Haki and we had a guard with a wide half-orc wearing a bag and manacled with him.
Lord Ostlerson was busy and didn’t want to meet with us so Janissary Haki was happy to. Yes we can stay in one of the older huts that wasn’t being used for 1 day and get a meal allowance – but they had to deliver this prisoner (delivered with a kick) to Stivil to Fightmaster Loring at the Arena. Apparently, this prisoner, Thon, was to fight wolves and bears and hopefully die doing so. He paid us 10 nobles for the efforts as long as we leave tomorrow, where Loring might give us another stipend for delivery as well.
We took the job and left, heading to the hut in question, going inside, and then getting to talking to Thon. Thon was a half-orc from Stivil who had tried to get a job on the Reetersbeard caravan but getting denied. Not wanting to return home he went looking for other work when he ended up befriending and joining the Wolf Skull Firvinir Orc Tribe. He grew close to a girl Greki and things were good until the fall festival where Scratch made its way into the youths.
He tried it, didn’t like it, but those that took it grew angry all the time and the mood was changing. Even Greki was becoming distant. Eventually there was a raid that she was a part of and when it ended badly with almost 10 of the raiders captured, the thought was to get Scratch out of the tribe entirely.
Thon learned a lot about the Durcent people who came to treat with the Chief and had respect for their new Sheriff and the members of the adventuring group who came to help out. Wanting to be a part of ending the hold of Scratch, he came back to Durcent where he made fake friends with a man named Fersic. Fersic was easy to fool and imagined Thon was his friend if not also stupid (he wasn’t).
Enough information came to him from Fersic about his father buying nails from Stivil made Thon think about following the trail to Fersic’s father, Gregor Ostlerson. The nails were the delivery system of the Scratch and it just seemed too good of an opportunity to miss. He convinced Fersic that he could do any job his father might need in his manor house and Fersic got him a job there.
He was moving hay bales from one side of the Stables to the other and other menial jobs, but he had a chance to look the place over. No drugs here…except there was an area in the basement below the manorhouse that needed a 5 tumbler key to open. That must be it.
Lord Ostlerson left with 2 of his trusted men 3 days ago on some trip and that was a good opportunity to scout. So @ 2 in the morning he tried the door, opened it with his picks, and made his way downstairs to another door. Working on that one he felt a puff of air and passed out.
He awoke the next day and Janissary Haki had some of the local thugs work him over with fists and saps, screaming at him constantly that he would be fucking dead and fucking dead soon for this shit. When Lord Ostlerson came back a day and a half ago with his men, he was already in a shit mood – but this just put him over the top. Janissary Haki had Thon beaten and then salted and then beaten again.
He was to be sent to Stivil where Loring would have him fight rapid animals until he either died, or earned enough money to get his freedom (most likely not). The only thing Lord Ostlerson was missing was someone to take him up there – which our arrival made happen. We were the adventuring group that he had heard about in Durcent – and he had a mental image of the Manorhosue and how to get to the basement – where if there were ANY records of what’s going on –that’s where they would be.
And we would need iron clad proof of the drug operation to bring to Lord Durcent because going up against another Lord with just our word was tantamount to stupidity and suicide.
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