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Script Wrecked:
And yet another murder in Vehl

Fort Vehl: Five Sails Company Fire

Shame: Knight demoted

Naldin's explusion from the Knights of the Wyrm marks the end of part one of his story.

Script Wrecked:
The second part of Naldin's story occurred during the second time (coincidentally) I was on Layonara and covers the period from level fourteen to level twenty. Alas, the details of his adventures during that time have not been recorded. One can only imagine...

Script Wrecked:
The third part of Naldin's story begins...

NB: since Part One, Layonara's system of dating has been adjusted; each part one post title no longer matches an actual date

Script Wrecked:

--- Quote from: gilshem ironstone on April 06, 2021, 07:50:47 pm ---...all through Vehl and Arnax street runners pass messages that a Lord Gronk of Vehl is looking for mercenaries comfortable with wetwork to drop a bird to the innkeeper of the Harpy or a dockworker in Arnax.

--- End quote ---

"Little scamp," thinks Naldin, as a street urchin ducks past him, having just passed the news on to a mean looking half-orc who was in the process of voiding his lunch over the flag stones of the back alley behind Miggin's Mug. Needless to say, the half-orc was not in the mood for interaction with anyone at this time, and had tried to give the urchin half his mind before heaving violently again.

"Lord Gronk, eh?" He might have a pretty penny or two thought Naldin. Yes, he was definitely going to have to find all about this Lord Gronk, and his relationships in this nest of vipers that is Fort Vehl. Who were his "friends"? Well, allies at least. More importantly, who are his enemies?

Naldin looked over to see the half-orc had collapsed flat on the floor, his eyes rolled back in his head, his tongue sticking out. Yes, the poison Naldin had dripped into the half-orc's meal had worked quite well.

Naldin pushed his trolley-cart over to the fallen half-orc. With a practised motion, he heft the half-orc's body up and into the empty cart, then drew the hinged lid shut across the top. Naldin stooped in his ragged clothes, once more becoming the itinerant rag and bone man, pushing his knife sharpening cart about the streets of Vehl.


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