And we're off

The story begins with Melnor Broedlam, a strapping young dwarf, paragon of society.

As the second son in the primogeniture dwarven society, Melnor has consistenly enjoyed many benefits of wealth and power, but never had it all, nor had to deal with the responsibility that comes with it.

Hoping to further his family’s good name, he sets off on a quest to recover the shield of St. Glaren. St. Glaren happens to be Melnor’s great uncle, who perished while leading a sortie out of Barad Pogi. Melnor wishes to ideally recover the shield (and hammer, if it’s around), and give his fallen ancestor a proper dwarven burial.

Setting out with his trusted squire Pir, his messenger Grom, and his battle priestess and instructor Thera, Melnor made his way east.

As the first night drew to a close, they happened upon a caravan. After a night of drinking and fellowship, they slept soundly. Though the traders didn’t have anything of interest, Melnor suggested they take their fine silks to his homeland, knowing that they would catch the fancy of some of the dwarves.

As they journeyed, they shared their knowledge with one another. Thera furthered the religious knowledge of the group, while Melnor gave Pir some basic tips on the differences between axes and hammers.

The party noticed the fetid, repulsive creatures first. Seeing roughly 4 goblins on top of a steep hill, Melnor lost it. Remembering all the pain they have caused and the strife their greed sows, he charged. Throwing his shield on his back, he began climbing the hill.

The goblins unsurprisingly had extremely poor marksmanship, causing no more that a few pricks. After reaching the top of the hill, Melnor crushed the leader in a fit of rage, guided by the divine. Though one tried to run, he didn’t get very far.

All in all, they had a few gold coins on them, but not much else. Curiously, the gold was definitely top quality minted coin. These goblins definitely acquired it from humans, but whether by trickery, force, goods, or services, no one could say. Furthermore, these goblins belonged to the Red Hand Horde, known for their savage leader, the bugbear Red Hand.

After sending word back to Melnor’s father, the party continued onward, eventually reaching a small inn. The inn was pretty sparsely populated, containing a few servers, a minstrel, and some local soldiers. After the minstrel played a terrible song quite well, Melnor struck up a conversation with the guards. The guards, who were happy to sit and drink for a long time, immediately sighed after Melnor relayed the goblin news, and headed out to do their due diligence.

Satisfied with where the journey was going, the party split up into 2 rooms, and drifted to sleep.



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