Legends of K'Darl #8 - Gambling Man

Upon arriving in Werdenton our group headed through the market, heading straight for the governor. As they wandered through the market, K'rang acquired himself a single steel gauntlet, but for what reason, no one knew.

Upon reaching the governors office, they were ushered inside by his guards. They began to question him about the other group that had been sent here, only to find out that no such group had arrived. Our band of fearless *ahem* warriors thanked the governor and headed to speak with the guards.

The captain of the guard had little more information for them, only being able to tell them of the attacks, all of which sound the same as those they had experienced previously. 

Deciding that they would learn nothing new here, the group headed to the inn. Upon entering, Joran immediately seeks out a group of gamblers and joins them in their card game. From his conversation with them, he gleaned that they had arrived recently, having passed through one of the attacked homesteads themselves. They could offer little in the way of additional information, re-itterating what they already knew. They did, however, show Joran a sword which they had recovered from the wreckage. They were even willing to sell it.

Joran, ever the gambler, looked at the sword and said "Let's make this interesting." The hush that fell over the table was palpable. "If I win" continued Joran "I get the sword. If you win, you get 70 Gold." He looked at the trader, trying to gauge his reaction.

He answered almost immediately "If I win, lets make it 100 gold." Joran agreed and they picked up their dice, rolling them on the table. They clattered and then came to a stop, with the trader scoring higher and looking very smug "Looks like i've got some gold" he grins slightly "unless you wanna' call it double or nothing?"

Joran, sweating slightly, agrees to this and both once again roll their dice. Again, the trader wins. Now looking rather pleased with himself, he looks to Joran. Joran, managing to hide his worry behind a mask of pure calm says "One more game. 300 gold for you if you win." The trader, his mind fogged by the thought of such riches, agrees. Once again they pick up their dice and roll, the crowd around the table holding its collective breath.

The dice come to a stop and a sigh of relief leaves Jorans lips as he sees he has beaten the trader. Crestfallen, the trader says "So, you've beaten me at last. Who says I need to give you the sword though?" In answer, the E.M.W levels his spear at the traders throat and says "I do."

The trader, rather hastily it may be added, gave the sword to Joran. The group, happy at their comrades victory, observe the sword and see that it belonged to one of the kings guard. This didn't bode well as to their fate.

Deciding that they could do with the rest, they retired to their rooms, ready to start again in the morning.

Benson & Hector #2 - Better luck!

The sun was high in the sky, glaring down angrily at the world below, as it let its heat pound on those  that were foolhardy enough to venture out into it. The horizon line shimmered and danced and every tree and building was greeted with joy, granting short salvation in the form of cool shade.

The farm lay deadly silent, not like its usual midday bustling self. Crows chirped around, looking at the stains on the ground. A short distance away from the farm there stood the remains of a great fire, still smouldering.

All was quiet.

Over the horizon, there appeared 2 silhouettes, walking along the road from the capital. As they got closer to the farm, they went from being wobbly black silhouettes to the outlines of two men, one tall and thin, one smaller and wider. They walked along, and as they were nearly upon the farm, there conversation could be overheard (if there had been anyone to overhear it that is). The shorter of the two seemed to be in disagreement with his traveling companion, and wasn't afraid to show it.

"I just don't see why we should trust him again Hector, that's all. I mean, he didn't tell us nothing about what was in that soup. Supposing we had had a little morsel ourselves eh? I for one would not have enjoyed those consequences, not if the rumours going around were true." He stopped his rant only to shudder and looked as though he was about to continue, but his companion, Hector, cut him off.

"Relax Benson. I told you, we didn't have any so it's all good. What are we, amateurs? Besides, Marcus has never steered us wrong before now has he? The message said he has some high value goods that need to be out of his possession pronto. Once we get them to another city it's fair game, and we will be rolling gold. Come on Benson, cheer up!" With that he stopped to lean on a wall on the outskirts of the farm, close by to the remains of the fire. He took a skin from his hip and drained the water held within.

Benson looked around nervously while his friend drank. "How can you be so calm in a place like this?" He glanced over to the remains of the fire, still smouldering. "What do you think happened here anyway?"

Hector stored his water skin and looked over the scene in front of him. He knew the old man that owned this farm. He wasn't close friends by any account, but they had stopped on their travels in the past, sharing a mug of ale and a story or two, even staying in the barn when there travels had not gone as swiftly as they would like. Yet now, the farm was deathly quiet. The old man was nowhere to be seen. As Hector glanced across the path further up the road, he saw what looked like dried blood.

"You know Benson, for once you might not be far off with that bad feeling of yours. Looks to me like something bad happened here, and I sure as hell don't wanna' hang around to find out for myself." With that, he turned to continue up the road, but stopped almost instantly as a glint caught his eye.

Years in the business of buying and selling goods (not always acquired in lawful ways) had taught Hector two things. The first was to never trust anyone, no matter how often you deal with them. The second thing was the amazing ability to spot expensive gear a mile off. So, when he spotted a glint coming from the pile of ash, he knew it was valuable.

"On second thoughts, let's just take a look over here shall we?" and with that, he trotted off over the grass, heading towards the smouldering mound. Benson looked around nervously and then followed him, glancing around as he did.

Once close enough, Hector saw that the shiny object was a very very expensive looking sword, with a heavily ornate pommel. He could almost hear the sound of gold raining down on him as he reached out and pulled it from the wreckage. 

"Benson, I think someone up there likes us." He hung the sword through his belt and turned back towards the road. Benson, as always, followed his friend, still glancing around. "What is the owner comes looking for it though?"

Hector stopped. "Benson, for once, can we not just enjoy the moment. The owner must be dead, burnt with the rest of them. Lucky for us this sword wasn't damaged too. Now, just relax, and let's get going. We've got some money to make."