Legends Of The Road

Alwyn, the first steps of a hero
Now thus shall it be known, in the days to come that the start of this heroic tale came to pass on Gert’s nieces joyous wedding day. It was the night before, Alwyn (our hero) having slaved the day away caring for the horses in the stable was about to retire for the evening when the stranger entered. He was dangerous, and held an air of mystery about him. He bore a multitude of scars and a wicked blade holstered at his waist. Alwyn steadied the horses, who sensing the evil in this stranger startled and began to quiver with a fear Alwyn would never know. The stranger departed and blended into the night, after making it known he would remain in Bergholdt for a time. He diligently saw to his things as he wandered toward the Sleeping Goat. Now it must be noted my good people, that the scroll soon to be mentioned in this tale came to Alwyn under mysterious circumstances. That to this day he can not recall just how he came to it, just that he became aware of it. Perhaps Chauntea guided that scroll to him, perhaps not._ Alwyn raced off home to eat his dinner and read from his book. Yet his father had a thirst that need be slaked and would not be denied his vile poison. So after much grumbling and threatening to mar that which would be remembered for all time. Alwyn set out to the Sleeping Goat to procure some whisky for his father.

It was upon entering that he noticed his good friend Woolen seated with another stranger to town of Bergholdt. Alwyn ever the kind hearted waved with much cheer to Woolen feeling remise that he could not yet join him and his new friend. He turned toward the bar requested the least potent of vile poisons for sale. Gert ever the shrewd merchant gladly handed over a bottle of Thoryn’s usual as Alwyn tossed down the two coppers. Now it should be known that Alwyn couldn’t stand the smell of alcohol and had shown great restraint in his youth from the vile temptations of adulthood. He tucked it in his sack and went over to offer his well wishes and greetings to Woolen’s new friend. Hildy was her name a proud dwarven lass. A stonemason of the greystone line upstanding and proud of her heritage. Alwyn expressed his interest in the conversation but had to excused himself to return home. Though he did swear on his honor to return to continue his discourse with the maiden. Now the state of Hildy and Woolen upon Alwyns return has been often the focus of many a debate. I’ll say only that as Alwyn has ever supported his friend’s endeavors, respect for privacy must be held paramount for friendship to be properly maintained. Thus it is held that fate worked its magic that night and all was set right for the morrow.

As Alwyn stood before the door to Hildy’s chamber he felt a weight in his pack that was not there before. It was that moment that Alwyn found he held a scroll. Curious as anyone of truly heroic breeding as Alwyn has proved to be, he opened it. As far as can be reckoned, the expression that came across our heroes face was one of utter surprise mixed with dread. For it detailed the planning of a deed most dire, rebellion, highway robbery. A blade most deadly was desired for the deed. Alwyn realized immediately who’s blade the scroll referred to. It was in his infinite wisdom that Alwyn decided to confirm his suspicions with Woolen. Now Woolen was a successful merchant about the town wise beyond his years. And it is known that Alwyn had always looked up to him. Woolen’s reaction was as expected, it was decided that the scroll be returned with all stealth and the stranger be watched, for Woolen had heard in passing from Gert earlier that the stranger was expecting friends. And off Alwyn went back to the stables to look out for the others and to return the scroll if he could.

Once again fate or Chauntea stepped in and when Alwyn returned to the Sleeping Goat, the scroll returned to his sack. His eyes opened wide by the wonders of divine intervention Alwyn knew that this was the start of something important. Woolen not yet convinced held on to his disbelief, not knowing that events were in motion that he could not see. You see, it was Woolen’s idea to trick the stranger into action. So in the mid of night Woolen snuck into the strangers room through the window and left the scroll upon his pillow. Alwyn helped to distract any who would misunderstand Woolen’s honorable intent. Tom the town drunk wandered by ensorcelled by the vile drink and spoke of dragons and other creatures and such. Fearing discovery and driven by concern for Tom, Alwyn took him around front and sought aid for his weary soul. The constable came at Alwyn’s call and took Tom to safety. It this heroic deed that the Constable first recognized Alwyn’s skill and begged of him and his companions to aid the town in securing the missing ale for the coming celebrations. Alwyn heartily accepted and quickly left to prepare for the morning.

The dawn came and the first steps of history rang forth across the realms. The heavens opened up in their wonder and shown down with a beauty not seen hence. Bird sang, the villagers laughed gaily and went cheerily about their early morning work. It was a blessed day that greeted Alwyn, Woolen and Hildy as they set forth on their righteous task. Their steeds were mighty and capable of the journey ahead of them. Time passed quickly in our heroes pursuit of justice. But just when the wagons came within sight of the wagons that the brigands struck. With vast numbers are either side they took the road and haughtily demanded the heroes to surrender. Now do not fret my good people. For as we all know Alwyn would never back down from evil men and he has never surrendered. Their commander struck an imposing figure as she strode forth and commanded Alwyn and his companions to stand down and upon threat of death join their numbers. Alwyn did the only thing he could, seek to split their numbers and whittle them down. For remember friends, the journey had just begun and the power we all know Alwyn would grow to harness had yet to fully blossom within.

And it is, sad for me to speak of such failure, that the tale grows just the bit fuzzy for try as I might. I could not locate what occurred to Alwyn to cause his and the others capture. Perhaps it was Chauntea’s will, we will never know. Alwyn alas awoke dressed in the bandits livery, stripped of all his possessions he was forced to bide his time. For these bandits were as any other, mistakes would be made and his destiny would thwart their desires. They traveled far and came together with another group of the bandits, this time with the very wagons Alwyn and his group had been sent to find. This only served to swell our hero’s heart with faith that his success was ordained. Woolen proved his worth that night, for he snuck away and sought to free those bound within the wagons. They had proved too infirm for the leaders tastes and were being held in cages. Woolen attempted to free these prisoners alone amidst a sea of brigands. Remember this hero friends, for courage in the face of danger is a lesson well learned. It was at this moment, in the midst of the night that the leader of these bandits was struck dead by Chauntea’s own hand.

It was in the confusion that our hero and the rest managed to flee with the prisoners and wagons in tow. The brigands did not give chase, and it is rumored to this day that they were never seen again. Perhaps they were taught the lesson of crossing destiny, perhaps not. Now we all know this tale is just begun. And the day of their return is remember in the annuals of sembian lore. But it was the destruction of Bergholdt that proved the solidified Alwyn’s growth into the hero we know today. Now my good friends. I must rest these weary lips of mine and seek succor in sleep. Tomorrow I shall continue Lord Alwyn’s tale goodnight.
At the start of all legends...

Woolen “Wooly” Fletchaft, Hilde Greystone and Alwyn Seidl go off in search of the ale shipment for the wedding of Gorf Wex and Kayla Cooper. They discover the shipment waylaid by soliders of the Lord Yarmmaster. They are told the shipment is being seized for lack of taxes paid and that the three are being conscripted into the Yarmmaster’s service unless they can pay a dismissal fee of fifty gold coin.

Duanted by the soldier’s overwhelming force they are taken into service and the group drives east with the ale shipment in tow as well as three prisoners, the drivers meant to have taken the huge cask of brew to the wedding festival, caged in a prisoner transport wagon.

During the night, while the Lord Yarmmaster’s men are distracted by lights in the distance, Woolen dispatches the sleeping captain of the guard, a woman of some skill, in her sleep.

The guard soon move off to discover the source of the lights and never return, leaving the three from Bergholdt to escape with the shipment just before dawn and travel throughout the day, sure they had missed the festivities only to crest the hill overlooking their home to see smoke rising from it. The town had been attacked and ransacked in their absence and on the outskirts of the town they discover by whom. Goblins.

Now, after a valiant effort, they find themselves captured and badly wounded, stuffed in sacks and just waking to the smell of roasting meat.


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