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Old December 30, 2019, 02:27 PM   #1
Moss Oktra'rek
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[Jaedaxia] The Axe And The Shield And Their Mysteries Revealed

Era XXVI - Winter - Immanis

Taverns. The Empire was filled with them, and they themselves were filled with adventurers. One such establishment, Le Soldat Assoiffé, was where Moss Oktra'rek had found himself enjoying a drink and a bite to eat.

It had been some time since the mystic had visited Jaedaxia. His previous excursion to the Northumbrian city had resulted in a broken arm and a humming shield with shards of rock embedded in it. And though he had been glad to help put an end to the cult that had terrorised the city, he was hopeful that there would be no repeat of the searing pain he had felt as the obelisk had collapsed.

His shield, however, was still something of a mystery. He had managed to get by in various encounters with it on his arm, though he had opted to go without it at times, too. With a glowing sword and an audible shield, any attempts at stealth would be hampered. But he had not been able to part with it permanently, and so he hoped a return visit to where it had gained its unusual properties might yield some answers.

But that was something to worry about on the morrow. He didn't even know where to start. For the time being, he would sit and enjoy his meal and the surrounding conversations, many of which were in the familiar Charismean tongue.

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Last edited by Moss Oktra'rek; January 12, 2020 at 09:26 PM.
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Old December 31, 2019, 03:55 PM   #2
Hoskuld Coal-beard
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Jaedaxia. Why the feth was he in Jaedaxia, again? Things had gone so well for him the last time he was here. He'd had an adventure with a blue seagull and a calico elephant and a guy with bird poop on his shoulders and a magic rock that could supposedly read minds; together they had beaten up a bunch of out-of-shape teenagers, and he had almost gotten himself killed in some sort of magical cataclysm that he was left to sort out with nobody around who knew the first thing about the magic involved.

And his reward for this adventure? The seemingly permanent ruin of pretty much his only valuable possession: the dwarven steel ax he had purchased in High Peak. Now it had bloodstains on it that wouldn’t come out and the thing wouldn’t take an edge. Oh, and it made this humming noise that wouldn’t stop. And the worst thing about it was, if everybody had just listened to him and taken the Hoody Boys in for a reward, they could all have walked out with a tidy sum of cash, their reputations intact, and nice sharp weapons that knew when to keep quiet.

The axe in question was now stuffed, singing head down, into his backpack. The humming, Cetheron be praised, wasn’t loud, so it was easy enough to muffle to the point one could barely hear it. But Hoskuld knew it was there, and his ear and mind were constantly straining to catch it in spite of his efforts to block the thing from his thoughts. It was to silence this axe, one way or another, that he had come to this City of People Who Talk Funny and Spell Even Funnier. The curse had fallen here in Jaedaxia, and here it would be lifted.

Before lifting any curses, however, Hoskuld needed a bed to sleep in, a bite to eat, and something foamy and hoppy to wash it down with -the bite, that is, not the bed. The locals, with their usual sense of linguistic mischief, had told the dwarf that such things were “sold at a swafay”. He had no idea what a swafay was, nor why it would sell food and drink, but off he went, looking for a swafay. His further inquiries had pointed him to a couple taverns readily enough. Very well, he could sort out his lodgings after he’d had some pracenda.

Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps Cetheron had mistaken Hoskuld’s irritable oaths for prayers, but, incredibly, the first swafay he found with decent-smelling food was being patronized by none other than his buddy Moss! His eyes widened and his dour expression brightened when he recognized the human at table. He stomped across the room shouting: ”Moss Oktra’rek! What the feth are you doing here in Jaedaxia?!”
“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read… I’M IN!”-Thunder Levin

Last edited by Hoskuld Coal-beard; December 31, 2019 at 04:01 PM.
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Old January 17, 2020, 04:10 AM   #3
Argon Shatterskin
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Jaedaxia, Argon thought as he chewed upon the bark, what a strange place. The people here spoke constantly as if they were afflicted with drunkenness and behaved much the same way. Still it was a merry town and was a beacon of civilisation that jutted out of the wilderness. It was an island of people that Argon had made his way to this time and he would tarry here for a while before accepting a new job that moved him on.

The weather was turning chilly and Argon now wore a waistcloak the covered his leather armour. He walked about town looking much like the mercenary he was with a metal cap he had worn from time to time since the troubles that had come about answering the Beacon of Narim.

Argon had sat down at a table lost in a book eating away slowly at a bit of stale bread. He was shaken out of his reverie when he entered the tavern only to overheat a familiar Dwarven voice. Not only was the voice familiar but the name it called out was immediately familiar was well.

Argon packed up his book and joined the two adventurers!

"By the Gods, what a coincidence!" Argon exclaimed "My fellow vault hunters"

Argon had met both and invariably it had been in relation to raiding vaults - one human and the other Dwarven. Well, if ruins count as vaults it was true but that as a distinction that would only have made the conversation point less pleasing to the ear

"I had oft' wondered what had happened to each of you and now, by stroke of chance, you are both here and know one another!" Argon said momentarily slipping out of the Dwarven act by virtue of showing his true emotion "but such coincidences rarely occur! What ominous tidings!"

Argon was a believer in fate. Situations occurred by strands of fate directed by unseen hands. Z'kron had planted enough doubt in his mind that he wasn't sure if it were the Gods' or something else but either way there were powers at play behind the most unlikely of coincidences. 3 people, all knowing one another separately, randomly meeting up at a tavern unexpectedly in a city that Argon hadn't visited before without planning to meet was one such occasion.
CiR here

Ikonomancer, axeman, wall painter in rouge. A 'hero'
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Old January 17, 2020, 07:11 PM   #4
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"And My Axe!" Secret Achievement unlocked.

Le Soldat was a local watering hole for the off duty guards from Le Protectorat du Paix. Their blue and gold uniforms flickered here and there, often moving in small packs, and offering the gathered companions only passing glances. This was preferred to their previous interactions with the Protectorat, which involved more hand irons. The other patrons spoke furiously in Jaedaxienne while others conversed in Common and other dialects. There was even a pair of dracons talking in low tones in a far off corner.

The barmaid was a very well endowed redhead who had already introduced herself twice to Moss. Her advances notwithstanding, she happily refilled his mug with ale and fluttered here and there with wooden plates full of cheese, bread, and dried meats. Marie's long hair was tied in a tight bun and her emerald eyes tended to squint whenever she laughed.

"-- same dung, different brightening," one of the men was saying.

"Colder than Jalat's balls out there."

"Did you hear about the quack selling Everwinter Snow?"

"Haya's tits, these tourists act like they want to get scammed."
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