RP The Journal of Bhenadryl, the wandering Ranger.

[Bhenadryl]

(( A dusty old journal, the cover worn, and the bindings loose. Some pages seem to be missing, and you suspect a few of the pages to be in the wrong order. The hand writing seems poor, hastily written, yet legible enough. An arrow fletching tied to a tassel seems to have been used as a makeshift bookmark. You begin to read. ))

 

[Bhenadryl]

(( Penned in a heavy hand. Entree 05 ))

"I have continued my journey. Secure in my skill and new equipment I set to venture far and wide. To get a better lay of the land, and to help those I can along the way. I now find myself less a hunter of beasts, and more a hunter of men. I would say that this saddens me, but truth be told, some injustices can only be solved with the end of a rope, point of a blade, or the nock of an arrow."

"While journeying past the cemetery of Vesper I was set upon by a foul hood. The wretch was crafty, and no matter how many arrows I let loose the brigand would mange to slip away and heal themselves in full. I would not win a battle of attrition. While in Britain, I had come into the company of a stalwart paladin. So, I set off an penned a missive and sent it by carrier bird. My missive found its home, and soon I was joined by companion. Together we burst into the graveyard, hacked our way past the vile undead to find our quarry. The battle was long, and arduous, but towards the end we won the day, and the villain lay vanquished."

"I bid my companion farewell, as we both had different destinations in mind, and I readied myself for my return. While I had previously used the Moongate to transport myself to Minoc and Vesper, I though that perhaps I should take the trade road south on my return to Britain. I follow the road and come across more brigands. This land is awash in villainy. With my previous encounter fresh in my mind I make use of the trees. I dart to and fro, like a serpent that has had too much wine. I check my quiver to find that I'm running low... I'll need to save the last few for when I'm most in need. I draw my tree felling axe from belt loop and charge in. Snicker-snack went my axe, the last brigand at my feet. I wipe down the axe head with an old rag, looking at the surrounding carnage. What grim work I have wrought, grim work indeed, but a necessary one."

"I make my way to the bog between Cove and Britain. In my hubris I though that I could cross it quickly and be done with it. I was wrong... Poison! The swamp was a churn with filth and pestilence. I had not done my due diligence and prepared properly. I had forgotten a pair of swamp boots. If it had not been for my hardy constitution I would have sunken beneath those fetid waters."

"After making my way free of that accursed place, I traveled towards the coast line. Mostly to wash the filth from myself and grant myself a moment of respite. After a few moments, and feeling much refreshed I returned to the road. On the final length of my journey I heard the crackle and twisting of branches. Yet nothing abounds? Puzzled I look up... the tree is bewitches, a reaper! I grab for my axe, and swing. It has fell many a tree, but I worry... Will it hold against this creature? The blade is dull, yet I swing with all the might I can muster. Crack! It bites hard and deep. I hack, hack, hack again. This tree falls like any others. I muse to myself that perhaps I should dub my axe Treesbane. I laugh out loud in spite of myself. I continue on, to Britain."

 

[Bhenadryl]

(( Penned in a diligent hand. Entree 07 ))

"I woke up in a cold sweat. I hadn't realized I'd had been screaming until I felt the innkeeper's hand on my shoulder. He looked at me with concern in his eye. I apologized profusely, I must have awoken every other patron here tonight. He told me to pay it no mind and offered me a seat by the fireplace. Handing me a mug of spiced cider, he told me that he had a familiarity with such things as he had been a captain in the local militia before he retired to run this, his family's inn. He had taken an arrow to the knee and had decided to turn in his colors, never did heal right he said with a wry grin. I sat there eyeing the crackling flames."

"Bandits, I told him. I had recently stormed the encampment south of Yew. I had sought to end their villainy and return a semblance of justice to the lands... but had I? The innkeeper, old Archaaz gave me a knowing look. He said he had seem my armor and kit as I stumbled into the inn exhausted. I thought I had done my best to clean the blood and gore from myself. Had a seasoned eye he said, knew the signs of a battle. I looked down into my mug and began telling my tale of how I started this journey..."

"I remember my times as a lad. I had been born a child of Yew, surrounded by the sights and sounds of the forest, and the towering presence of the Yew trees. Of running around, swing sticks in mock sword fights. The felling of trees, and the shaping of wood."

"There was this younger lad you see. Young Chern, he had the dream to become a mighty and powerful mage. He would chase the local birds and chickens yelling CORP POR, as he tossed stones at them. The other children and I had taken to calling him Corpo because of this. I let out a small chuckle in remembrance. His family had pack a wagon full of goods, they where headed for the capital to hopefully make good coin from their wares. Corpo had jumped into the back of the wagon. He exclaimed that they where off to Britain, and that he would become a great mage, that he would apprentice to Archmage Nystul himself. The other children and I had all laughed, "Sure! Sure!" we all had chuckled in unison. They had never arrived."

"I spent the rest of my youth chopping wood, making arrows, and hunting game. When I was of age I made my way to Skara Brae, I hoped to join the league. I had walked the same road that... Well, I had made it to the guild hall... Even saw the legendary Shamino, though I dare not speak to him. I managed to find the guildmaster, and I inquired about joining. One thousand gold coins?! I could only laugh, where was a lad to find that kind of money. Britain the guildmaster said, always coin to be found in the capital. I gathered my things and set off once more. To Britain, of all places, to where... No, I didn't want to dwell on it again."

"As I made my way down the road I manged to shoot a few rabbits and strung them up, tossing them over my shoulder. I had spotted a regal buck cresting over a hill, and had thought to make sport of it, but I reconsidered. Even if I manged to drop the beast there would be no way for me to carry it all the way to Britain. Years of swinging an axe had given me quite the bit of muscle, but with all my other supplies and kit it would have been a daunting task. I eyed a grouse rustling out of a nearby shrubbery, and let lose an arrow. I trussed the bird up, making my way to the grand gates of the city. Furs and meat would sell. What butcher wouldn't be in need of fresh game? Only question was if I would get good coin for it."

"I sighed, what a pittance... I would have done better to save it for myself and make a meal of it with what the vendors would charge for a meal. I made my way to a near by inn on the water, I would need lodging for the night lest I camp outside the gates. Luckily, I had enough between my saves and my hunting."

"The innkeeper had poured himself a drink. Not speaking, just listen to my tale. I looked up. Continue, when you are ready he said. I down the mug of cider in one go. He poured me another. I continued with my retelling..."

 

[Bhenadryl]

(( Penned in a diligent hand. Entree 08 ))

"After few more ciders, and an eve half filled with words I could hardly remember I released a breath. One that, I had not known I was keeping this whole time. I lean back on the chair. A weight seemed unburdened from my chest. The innkeeper once again clapped his hand to my shoulder as he started cleaning up the bottles strew about the place."

"I thanked the innkeep once more, he nodded and returned to his room. I sat there, by the fire, watching the embers smolder and die. What was it that I wanted? Surely not this? I had chosen to be a ranger because I was born with a strong arm, a quick eye, and surrounded by the majesty of the forest. I had sought out beast and monsters, both men and otherwise. Was it justice I sought? Was it a compassion to put villainy down so that it not rob people of both life and prosperity? I knew not, perhaps it was best to leave such thoughts to sages and other wise men. It was a grim business I was engaged in, yet it was what I did best."

"I returned to my room, retrieving my kit and belongings. As I made my way out I passed the innkeeper and gave him a nod, one which he returned wordlessly. I place bag of coin on the counter, enough for my room, and with more then extra enough to cover the drink from prior. I exited, making my way to the waterside where I found a bench near by. I sat, retrieving my crossbow from under my cloak. I had purchased it from a local peddler. He claimed that it was crafted than non other then Iolo himself, at which I scoffed, pointing out it had no makers' mark. It was a fine thing indeed, sturdy and accurate, and far better then I could do myself with my meager skill in the craft. I managed to haggle myself a good price for it, a boy of Yew would know his way around both arrow and bolt. I drew back the arm, with a sturdy *clink* it locked into place. I checked my quiver, good, plenty. With another two bundles in my pack and fixings for more I'd be set."

"As I walked down the main road I manged to over hear the town crier. A dire wolf had been terrorizing the flocks of Skara Brae. Luckily its rein of terror was ended quickly by a fellow adventure, though I did not catch their name it would be good to make their company. I lamented to myself, had I not been wallowing I might have done some good the other day. I vowed to redouble my efforts."

"I was about to exit town when I felt something bump into me. My arm darted forward grabbing the wrist of a lad who had his fingers wrapped around my coin pouch. That was a poor choice lad I let out with an exasperated sigh. The boy yelped. Please spare m'lord he cried. He was starting himself down a bad path, one that wouldn't end well. It was one that I didn't want to see myself at the end of... for his sake, and perhaps my own I should nudge him onto a different road. I did my best to make my self sound more gruff and grizzled that I was already becoming. Do ye know I'm called in these parts lad? From Vesper, to Britain, to Skara Brae, to Yew. I'm know as Rider lad, and ye best not get trampled upon. Quickly he chime, but you don't have a horse? I gave a stern glare, and it seems to hit harder then a bolt. I ride the wind I remarked. Beg'n yer pardon m'lord he let out with a winced, cowering down. Now where are yer parents, ye don't want to end up my quarry. The boy deflated, lost them some time ago sir he said. I maintained my steely gaze, it would do him no good if I relented here. Was taken in by the Sisters of Compassion he let out in a puff. I grunted, my grip still firm, I dragged him off in what I hoped was the direction of the orphanage. Words where to be had..."

 

[Bhenadryl]

(( Quickly scrawled, as if in a hurry. Entree 09 ))

"We arrived at the at the orphanage, and to call it run down would be unkind, but clearly it had seen better days. Lifting my hand I gave the door a few good thumps. There was a stir. The door opened and I was greeted by a young lass, not old enough for a trade but old enough to manage the other children. I grunted the words trouble maker as a hoisted the lad towards her. She let out a glare at the kid that seemed far beyond her years. Clearly she had much to deal with. Turning my eyes to her, is there anyone to speak with about this I rasped. Quickly she chimed out to see Mother Etheria in the back and that she would tend to the boy."

"I made my way to the back office. A withered matron was busy sorting tomes, papers, and ledgers of some sorts. As I grunted she look up from he work. She inquired about my business, and I recounted my encounter with the young lad. She drooped, looking even more frail. She apologized profusely. I told her that it was fine, however if the lad continued his ways he'd meet a bad end. Apparently the lad had gotten mixed up a group of some sort, and that this group was even eyeing the other children. "I'll look into it." I said, at which she seems slightly relieved."

 

[Bhenadryl]

** Warning : Graphic Violence **

** If you are not a fan of blood, or the kind of stuff you'd find in 80's action movies, you should skip this chapter. **

(( You fumble with a section of the journal that comes loose, pages spill across the floor, a page catches your eye. Entree 28 ))

"I had heard tales of pirates haunting these waters. To cross the northern straits even in midsummer would a daring task. Though it may have been possible if the water was more fair then norm, and if ye had a helmsman with steady hands 'en nerves of steel to boot. Then again I was no sailor, it may have been possible for all I knew. It mattered little to me."

"Closing on the northern shore I saw a mast cresting over the horizon. As I slowly made my way forward. From my perch in the nearby tree line I saw it. The tell tale colors of a pirate flag and the makings of a small encampment on the coastline. Bloody hell. There was a lot of them. Would have to be to man a ship that large. Luckily enough it seemed most of them where on the ship still and only a few tending to camp. One, Two, Four, Five. Well, that I could see at least, the tents worried me. No telling how many more where in there. This may be folly even to try, yet I could not just leave. These blaggard would descend like vultures on the unwary. No, there was business to be had. I emptied my haversack and unfurled my leather roll, pulling free my tools. I stuck two small hatchets into my belt, and my skinning knife as well. My hand rested on my belt loop checking my felling axe, nodding to myself. I loaded my crossbow, and took a deep breath."

"One around the corner, revealing themselves behind a tent. Three at the hearth, one stirring the pot, and two deep in cups. One entering the tent on the far end. I needed to be quick about it. Creeping slowly, like a mountain cat, I made my way around the corner. Gently, I leaned my crossbow against the the tent. Stepping behind the currently occupied buccaneer, I pulled my knife free from my belt. With my free hand I covered their mouth, and with a quick motion drew my knife across their neck. They went limp, dropping into their own filth. Hopefully they'd all be this easy, but I doubted it."

"Knife still in hand I slashed down the back side of the tent, leaving a red streak down the canvas. I reached out, retrieving my crossbow from where I left it, and made my way inside. Another pirate, dead a sleep in the cot, well, soon to be much deader. I drove my knife downward, like a carpenter striking a nail. It made a satisfying thunk, with a firm grip I gave it a twist. I made for the tent flap, eyeing the three at the hearth. The makeshift cook noticed me. I pulled the trigger, and my bolt flew. It struck with such force that it sent him ass over head. The two drunkards sobbed up quickly at the sight, grabbing their cutlasses and charging in on me. Dropping the crossbow, I retrieved on of my hatchets and let if fly. It sang threw the air cracking the nearest corsair in the cap causing them to skid across the grass, lurch over, and drop. The other one was on me now. I undid my felling axe from its loop, moving it to intercept the on coming cutlass. Well maintained oaken haft trumps rusty blade. My boot found the side of their knee. I could hear the distinct sound of cracking, vaguely reminiscent of splitting wood. With a yelp they dropped to their knees, as my axe came down with a returning strike. It sliced clean through, and another head rolled."

"I made haste quickly for the last tent, with any luck it should be only the one that entered previously. Rushing in I was met with the remaining pirate, and a mage. A mage? When did pirates hire mages of all things. Mages made good coin out in the world, and here was one cavorting with pirates no less. Damn. No time to think. The mage was in shock. Guess he never suspected anyone would dare attack this camp. Good. With all the strength and speed I could muster I let my last hatchet fly. The mage cowered behind their spellbook. The hatched dug deep into the tome. The mage looking shaken. Better, they shouldn't be able to get off a spell quick in that condition. That left the pirate in front of me, also seemingly shocked into bewilderment. The butt of my axe found its way into their stomach driving the air from them, then quickly up into their jaw. Crack! They fell over backwards. My axe came down, splitting their chest like a bird on a feasting day. The mage seem to have grasp the seriousness of the situation he was in now. He was doing something, or trying at least now. No time, I couldn't let them get a spell off. I jolted forward, tackling them to the ground. The belly of my axe was now against his neck. I pushed down hard, as he tried to wrestle himself free. It was no use. With a cough and a sputter they where snuffed out like a wick on a candle. I stood with a grunt, collecting my tools that lay strewn about the place. I eyed the ship nestled down in the cove. Now that is going to be some work, I sighed."

(( To Be Continued ))

 

[Bhenadryl]

(( Penned in a diligent hand. Entree 29 ))

"Grabbing a spyglass off a near by table I assessed the situation. Three on the makeshift dock, another three on the ships bow armed with crossbows. Curses! There was another mage. What was it with these pirates and magi. Was the Lycaeum having a special? Buy one mage, get the second free. Of all things... I refocused my thoughts... Focus... There's no plank, I'd have to climb the rigging. I'd end up a pin cushion from the bowmen, and then be roasted by the mage for good measure. There was no sneaking around as I had done with the tents. Could I swim to the ship then creep up the rigging unnoticed? Possible, but I'd have a hard time making my way out if things went against me. If I had learned anything in my time hunting and adventuring it would be that no plan, no matter how well crafted, survives the first few moments of a battle. So, always have an exit ready."

"Looking about the tend, there were clothing, rags, and rusty swords laying about. Could I disguise myself perhaps? All of those louts where deep in drink, even the mage from earlier seem to have been indulging. No, that was foolish, and reckless to boot. Would it work? Well, there was only one way to know."

"I collected the rest of my things, and quickly made ready my disguise. I removed my weapons, then armor, securing them with my pack in the nearby clearing in the hollow of an old tree. They should be safe enough here. I tossed on an old pair of worn, frayed blue pants with a matching shirt. I donned a pair of long boots that the pirates seamed to fancy, then wrapped a torn piece of cloth around my head into a makeshift skull cap. Lastly, I slid a cutlass into my belt, holding another against my shoulder. Well, it's adventure time, what could go wrong I thought. I barked out a laugh to myself, plenty..."

 

[Bhenadryl]

(( You come across a lost page, it seems to have been scrawled quickly. Entree 12 ))

"It had taken some doing, but I had managed to track down the scoundrels that had been strong arming the orphanage. There seemed to a power struggle going on in the underbelly of the capital. A new comer, a self proclaimed master thief was making waves, trying to cut a piece out for themselves. This young upstart had grand plans it seemed... For this they needed people, and plenty of coin to fund their new enterprise. All of which seemed to have been short supply. They say that there is honor amongst thieves, not that I believed it, but at least the older generation had the decency to not go after the orphanages. Small blessings."

"I readied my things. I'd have leave the crossbow. The guards would not take kindly to me brandishing it in the streets. My tree felling axe wouldn't be enough. I pulled my skinning knife from my pack and tucked it into my belt. This wouldn't be enough. Hmm... I turned my gaze over to the old stump I had been chopping wood at earlier. Eyeing the pair of wood splitting hatchets. Have to make do, the pair soon found their way into my belt. I'll have to be enough. Wrapping my cloak around myself and tugged down on my hood I made my way for the dockyard warehouse that the gang was using as their base."

"When the sun left the sky and dusk had fallen I crept in. With the warehouse in front of me I took a deep breath. The heel of my boot crashed against the flimsy door, it shatter at the weight of my kick, splinters flying inward. The collection of thugs, cutthroats, and what ever else turned to me meet, no doubt shocked by my entrance. The young hood in charge let out an unbecoming screech..."

"Who in the hell are you?!"

"Slowly, with a deep growl the words escaped my throat..."

"I am the MAKER, and as for you Alexander, it is far past time we met!"