Princes of the Spocopolypse

The Bargewrite Inn
some clarification finally

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Having traveled south to find the delegation I came to the Bargewrite Inn. And I finally figured out the meaning of the symbols carved into the cultists I have been killing since I came to this land.

They are elemental symbols. Earth, Air, Fire, Water.

I should have seen this. simple symbols are typical in heraldry.

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10 Men Dead for 30 Gold
Redlarch

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My father trained me to be a knight. A knight is a killer. Part of a knight’s duty is to protect those that can’t protect themselves. The weak, the old, the young, ladies. So when the sheriff of Redlarch asked me and my traveling companions to take care of a bandit problem I went and dealt with them.

I think I’ve killed more men since I left the quarry then when I was in it. Death is everywhere out here. I am dealing most of it.

The witch Zara, she dabbles in things I vaguely remember are illegal according to the temple law. I am not an enforcer of temple law, that is the Dragonborn Corus. He seems unconcerned with the disturbing things she does so if he sees no issue then I don’t. Her spells are useful in a fight and it’s her soul that is damned not mine.

This town has some kind of cult in it. Or perhaps had, since we have killed several of their members and found their underground alter. I wonder if our temple law enforcer will put this quarry leader to death for this. I would.

The search for my sister and mother has bore no fruit yet. But I do have a passel of nobles trying to pull me into their war on the new King. If I help depose him, I could not only gain my family’s lands back but most likely expand them. Or I could join the new King and work my way up through court and perhaps gain my lands back that way. Fuck the King. I’m more of the direct and more dangerous rout. I’ll have my lands and a good portion of the lands of his allies.
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The Adventure Hasn't Started
sick tieflings

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Peredren sulked into his beer in a quite inn in nowhere in particular. With his shield leaned against the wall and his sword laid across the table in front of him, he brooded over how he was going to win back his family’s prestige and lands. ‘If something were to happen…or I could find some long lost treasure horde… perhaps slay a dragon. Nonsense, suicide. and it’s not like dragon slaying happens everyday. No I need an, opportunity.’

His thoughts were interrupted by the hacking and coughing of a hooded and cloaked woman huddled by the fire her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. She had been hacking for what felt like to him, hours. It was annoying and pitiful at the same time.

The rain drizzled on the roof, no adventure today. Who wins glory in a drizzle?

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