The Duke enters the Thirsty Dragon to quench his thirst and take a bowl of stew. It has been 5 days since he had anything but hard tack to eat, not even as good as he used to feed to the pigs on the farmstead back in Sintok. When noticing the Halfling proprietor, he thought “Those fast breeding li’l runts will take over the world some day, but for now I know I’ll get a decent meal”.
The tavern was nearly full, mostly “men” thank the Three Fates, There were only a few “others”. A Dwarf in the corner near coughed and muttered something about working on the same program for 10 years … he looked to be a scrapper, maybe one o’ them logging type Dwarves. “never trust a Dwarf” he had heard an Elf say one time … those lying, better than you, damned to hell Elves … I don’t know which are worse. The only saving grace with this Dwarf is the scrawny man with a pig sitting at the same table. I’d rather share a table with the pig, but beggars can’t be choosers.
After a few insults to the staff about the “demi’s” in the tavern, the food came and his gut was quieted he introduced himself to the owner of the pig … and a gruff glance and nod to the Dwarf.
The pig owner was an animal trainer named Ranger, a thin built man that bore a strange resemblance to a bard named Kenny something-or-other. He said he could train any animal to do anything and showed Duke some tricks … the pig just sat there until Duke poked it with the butt of his spear and it squealed and hid under the table near Ranger. “Good stuff, I bet you’re a riot at parties” Duke chided.
When the town’s alarm bell sounded, “The Duke” grunted as he stuffed the rest of the food in his mouth. Then with his mouth full of food he told the pig trainer – I’m sure it is the Orcs. Spitting a piece of meat towards the ranger. His new friends looked alarmed. The halfling was handing out weapons at the door – Luppolt was glad he had his own, as he was certain there was some catch… Running through the market square, he saw the vendors grabbing pitchforks or whatever made due for a weapon. The dwarf they were with had some sort of pistol – well that was reassuring.
When they mounted the palisade, the scene in front of them looked dire indeed. It was the same Orcs who destroyed his village, they were tossing javelins and some were carrying ladders to siege the walls. The trio from the bar loaded their weapons, took aim and fired. The Orcs were tough indeed. Most arrows just stuck into their thick hides and armor not even slowing the beasts. They approached the walls with very few losses – their attack was quick and brutal. The ladders secured on the wall, the orcs climbed up fearless and in a frenzy to kill. It was the dwarf who really saved the day – picking them off as they climbed – only to fall to the ground in a daze. Luppolt dumped a vial of oil down one of the ladders and quickly lit it. Again this helped to slow the Orc approach – but it certainly didn’t stop them. These beasts were out for blood! It was curious to watch the pig the ranger had brought to the battle, as the swine barreled towards an orc who climbed the wall. The Orc was certainly surprised as the pig charged him – only to find the ranger’s arrow deep in its throat. Surrounded by Orcs a tiny gnome attempted to fend them off. For whatever reason Luppolt charged the nearest Orc attacking the demi human. Again their thick hides protected them from his spear – but it did grab their attention. The big man held up his shield again and again to defend against their blows, while his compatriots slowly picked off Orcs climbing the ladders. Suddenly an explosion blew an Orc off the wall into the awaiting peasant crowd below. The gnome – now bleeding heavily – fired off a pistol that felled the huge orc. Seeing this the rest of the orcs were taken aback and Luppolt used this opportunity to dishearten them some more. “It is over Orc scum – got back to the hovels you came from! You are defeated!” Then with a bellowing roar he charged the last Orc renting a hole in him like the stuck pig he was. The gnome collapsed in a heap – a large tear in his arm was bleeding profusely. Luppolt hoisted him up on his shoulder and headed towards the Shrine of the Three Fates with his friends in tow.
“Thank you kind sir.” said the now drugged Gnome as his eyelid slowly slid open. "It was kind of you to help me slay those foul beasts And again he fell unconscious. When he awoke again it seemed most urgent for him to get on with his business and must go to Anaflux (the capitol city) immediately. Asking if there was anyone that could drive his tinker’s wagon, Ranger said that he could. “I am Adjett Turnbell”, the Gnome returned. "The pay is good, but we must make good time. Would your two friends like to hire on to guard us on our way?
Ranger thought for a couple minutes, trying to remember the name Adjett. He had heard it once or twice before … a right reputable sort and one of only two gnomes he had ever heard of. “Did you ever hear of a Gnome named Jobol?”
“He is my brother.” Adjett replied. And glancing at the pig said, “Right up your alley,too, if I figure right. He’s got a traveling menagerie full of trained animals. There’s not too many of us left.” he ended sadly.
After negotiating with the rest, a bargain was struck and they would leave for Anachor in the morning.
100 RP (exp) for the night.