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Author Topic: Naldin  (Read 1524 times)

Script Wrecked

« on: June 08, 2011, 08:42:07 pm »
[THREAD=283256]New Character Submission[/THREAD]

Rofirein Forum

[LORE]Lawful Evil[/LORE]


Script Wrecked

« Reply #1 on: June 08, 2011, 08:51:30 pm »
1|1|1|1481-11-15|20110517_153658|Character creation; Naldin arrives on Mistone|
2.0|6|4|1482-01-02|20110520_162354|One Fine Bright Light|Ro,Ae
2.1|||||Defend Hlint, Elohanna from Cult|
3|8|12|1482-03-28|20110525_235925|[NOPARSE]Death 1 (SM:58,DC:8)[/NOPARSE]|
4|8|16|1482-04-09|20110526_185450|Mr. Silver and Mr. Cove offer Naldin a "job"|??
5|8|17|1482-04-15|20110526_2328|Naldin begins his association with the temple at Fort Vehl|[THREAD=283364]a[/THREAD]
6|8||1482-06-19|20110530_230331|Maxamilian asks Naldin about being a knight|[POST=1724214]20*[/POST]
7|8||1482-07-01||Naldin ponders poison|[POST=1722175]3[/POST]
8|8||1482-08-19||Naldin begins his research into poison|[POST=1722677]4[/POST]
9|8||1482-09-08||Naldin changes tack|[POST=1722732]5[/POST]
10|8|35|1482-09-18|20110605_1231|Naldin seeks an appointment with Reus|[THREAD=283473]b[/THREAD],[POST=1723035]6[/POST]
11|8||1482-10-04|20110607_000851|Maxamillian broaches service as a knight|[POST=1724218]21*[/POST]
12|9|38|1482-10-11|20110606_194803|Naldin begins his poison craft|[POST=1723094]7[/POST]
13|9||1482-11-06||Naldin ponders Vehl|[POST=1723132]8[/POST]
14.0|9|43|1482-12-01|20110609_235442|Law makers and breakers|St
14.1|||||Madasi Bruche clan of Dragon Isles seek justice|[POST=1723195]9[/POST]
15|9||1482-12-23||Naldin begins his poison meals|[POST=1723243]10[/POST]
16|9|47|1483-01-14|20110612_182254|Dantrag the imp seeks help for master|Ge
17|9|47|1483-01-18|20110612_225833|Death 2 (SM:5,DC:10) SS, GP1|[THREAD=283531]c[/THREAD]
18|9||1483-01-27||Naldin takes to the streets of Vehl|[POST=1723329]11[/POST]
19|9||1483-02-21|20110615_0203|Naldin submits a letter for an appointment with Reus|[POST=1722242]d[/POST],[POST=1723407]12[/POST]
20.0|9|55|1483-03-22|20110616_231449|Law makers and breakers|St
20.1|||||Judge Tyfllo Wercom wants his bard|[POST=1723464]13[/POST]
21|9||1483-04-05||Naldin ponders Maxamilian's suggestion|[POST=1724304]22*[/POST]
22|9||1483-04-17||Naldin falls in with some beggars|[POST=1723708]14[/POST]
23|9|58|1483-05-10|20110619_223958|Dantrag the imp seeks help for master again|Ge,[POST=1723775]15[/POST]
24|9||1483-06-06||Naldin and the beggars chased out of the warehouse|[POST=1723886]16[/POST]
25|9||1483-06-12||Naldin ponders what being a knight could mean|[POST=1724356]23*[/POST]
26|9||1483-07-03||Naldin learns the beggars' fate|[POST=1724068]17[/POST]
27|9||1483-07-26||Naldin learns of the assailants|[POST=1724135]18[/POST]
28|9||1483-08-13||Naldin makes preparations|[POST=1724212]19[/POST]
29|9||1483-09-07||Naldin hunts his quarry|[POST=1724387]24[/POST]
30|9||1483-09-16||An unfortunate riding accident|[POST=1724465]25[/POST]
31|9||1483-10-01||Is this a knight?|[POST=1724565]26[/POST]
32|9||1483-10-25||Courses of action|[POST=1724663]27[/POST]
33|9||1483-11-14||Another situation to rectify|[POST=1724745]28[/POST]
34|9||1483-12-04||New poison|[POST=1724869]29[/POST]
35|9||1484-01-12||How to make lethal strikes|[POST=1724907]30[/POST]
36|9||1484-02-05||Marrent Aylomen|[POST=1724972]31[/POST]
37|9||1484-03-20|20110709_0612|Naldin gets a response from the Temple|[POST=1723937]e[/POST],[POST=1725000]32[/POST]
38|9||1484-04-15||Learning the lethal strikes|[POST=1725062]33[/POST]
39|10|87|1484-04-18|20110711_004043|Level 10|
40|10||1484-05-04||A companion moment|[POST=1725210]34[/POST]
41|10||1484-05-28||Lethal training|[POST=1725288]35[/POST]
42|10||1484-06-19||Naldin resolves to become a knight|[POST=1725400]36[/POST]
43|10||1484-07-02||Laneway punch-on|[POST=1725517]37[/POST]
44|10||1484-07-17||Head strikes|[POST=1725567]38[/POST]
45|10||1484-08-08||Alleyway moment|[POST=1725608]39[/POST]
46|10||1484-09-14||Heart strikes|[POST=1725675]40[/POST]

Ae:Aether, Ca:Canislupis, Ni:Nimrod, No:Nova, Re:Redeemer, Ro:Rowan, St:Stranger, Wi:Witchdoctor, ??

* out of chronological sequence

Script Wrecked

« Reply #2 on: June 13, 2011, 05:15:38 am »
Naldin sat by the fire of his campsite at the edge of the Silkwood. He was recovering once more from the venomous bites of various denizens in his efforts to [POST=1720946]purvey[/POST] spider silk. This hadn't been a problem as a tunnel runner, when he had (mostly) sought to avoid engaging the various creatures. Now, during lucid moments between vomiting and sweating, he pondered whether there was any means to become inured to their toxic effects.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #3 on: June 20, 2011, 12:29:22 am »
Naldin sat at the table in the library(1), the books and folios he had pulled from the shelves were all too slender, too arcane, or, in some cases, just misleading. It seemed there wasn't much information available on poisons, venom, or toxins; that, or people guarded their knowledge all too well. Some authors had gone to great lengths to illustrate the dissection of various venomous animals, or to list their medicinal cures, but no-one seemed to know why they worked, or what the antidote did. Not in this small collection, least ways.

(1) either a public library in Port Hempstead, or, if there isn't one, a private collection that Naldin has managed to persuade the owner to let him purvey, perhaps in exchange for commensurate efforts that Naldin could supply, or, maybe, that Naldin just drank the owner under the table one evening

Script Wrecked

« Reply #4 on: June 21, 2011, 12:59:10 am »
Gah! Naldin felt as though he was chasing his own tail. Traipsing over Mistone in pursuit of information that just didn't seem to exist. Supposed libraries that were mere books, supposed experts that were just quacks, gaining the confidence of people to tease their secrets out only to be presented with old wives tales. Naldin had become more dour at the prospects of success.

Perhaps he was going about this the wrong way. Perhaps he would have to be the one that made the inroads, be the writer and not the reader. But how? How to go about this?

Naldin brooded over this for several weeks. Where to begin? Finally a thought occurred to him. The humans had an expression for it, "hair of the dog". Perhaps a little of the poison would strengthen you against the being poisoned.

Yes, that's right, poison yourself slowly and save someone else the trouble, he thought. And yet, no other options were available.

He rubbed at his head. For this, he would have to learn how to make poison. And to do that would likely entail exposure to poisonous creatures. He snorted at the irony.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #5 on: June 25, 2011, 10:49:59 pm »
When Naldin had first discerned the nature of living in Fort Vehl, he had been quite taken aback. Whereas his home in Taur'en was a refuge of support and mutual assistance in a wilderness of potential predators, it seemed Vehl itself was an arena for that very predation to take place. And what was prey in one circumstance became predator in another. Naldin did not understand how a community could seek to prosper in an atmosphere of such vested self interest.

So, when he found there was a temple of the Lord Protector in the very town itself, he had been filled with hope. The great Gold Dragon was the very remedy to the sickness of the "me first" attitude that afflicted these people.

Naldin thought that extending the presence of the Lord Protector onto the mean streets with patrols of liveried temple guard would be enough to affect change. Establishing a zone of order would naturally draw people to the protection it afforded. Seeing the benefits, they would be inclined to adopt the teachings of the Great Gold. Slowly but surely, things would begin to change for the betterment of all.

With this in mind, Naldin [THREAD=283473]approached[/THREAD] the Temple with his idea.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #6 on: June 27, 2011, 08:04:33 am »
Naldin wiped his hands on a cloth, looking at his handiwork with no small sense of accomplishment. The vial looked innocuous enough as it rested in the rack, despite holding the venom of the small spider.

He uncorked the vial, and tentatively dabbed his finger into its contents.

Nothing adverse so far.

He took a breath, then dabbed the finger onto.. the end.. of his.. tongue...

Argh. His tongue burnt, his mouth soured, and he started salivating great mouthfuls of spit.

Well, that was stupid, he thought as he reached for water to relieve his discomfort.

When he regained some level of composure, he eyed the vial suspiciously. Now, he was going to have to find some means of safely ingesting the stuff.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #7 on: June 27, 2011, 11:50:47 pm »
Naldin stood at the quayside of Fort Vehl, watching the world go by. There had still been no response to his [POST=1723035]proposal[/POST] from the Temple. He pondered what it might be about the Vehlians that dissuaded the Temple from making progress into this society.

Sure, Naldin had walked amongst them, but he could sense he was treated as an outsider. From what he had observed, the Vehlians seemed quite.. tribal, even amongst the different groups. The place where this barrier seemed to come down somewhat was at the local taverns, the watering holes. They were a bit more accepting, or perhaps, relaxed, then.

Sure, brawls still erupted amongst the different groups, and, Naldin had noticed, were prone to be more spiteful than similar dwarven punch-ons. Whereas dwarves were content to pummel each other and break chairs across the odd back, all too often knives were drawn.

Somehow, a closer look would be required.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #8 on: June 29, 2011, 04:08:18 am »
They had been engaged to collect some taxes on behalf of a tax agent from the Madasi Bruche clan of the Dragon Isles. En route, they were attacked by and had slain the clan's sacred bear.

The reactions by Maxamilian and Samantha when the tribe had found them in breach of the clan law caught Naldin off guard. Perhaps they had been affronted by the suggestion that they could break any law, whether knowingly or not. Or perhaps that this was some sort of plot, by enemies of Rofirein, to trap two of his servants using the net of the very law itself. Whatever the case may have been, they both began arguing semantics with the clan, whether, as tax agents they had diplomatic immunity, whether as servants of Rofirein were subject to clan law rather than the Common Law, what the jurisdiction was, where any trial should be held.

It all seemed to make a mountain out of a molehill as far as Naldin was concerned. Surely the honourable thing was to offer the tribe some sort of recompense for the loss of their bear; it was an accident, but the tribe were entitled to some sort of material reimbursement, or render of services.

Of course, if the tribe had wanted death, or something out of all proportion, that would have been different.

In the end, the tribe had required trial by ordeal, which they all submitted to, and passed.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #9 on: June 30, 2011, 04:03:37 am »
Of late, each time Naldin had been in a crafting hall he had availed himself of the alchemical workbench to find how to dilute the spider venom. Drawing on the skills he had learnt potion making, he had tried all sorts of liquids: water, various pressed oils, wine, beer, spirits, melted butter and lard, even sea water; searching for the one with which the venom would mix without altering it. After much effort, he had found the best one(1).

He added a drop of venom to a bottle of the liquid, and gave it a good shake. Mashing up some hardtack into a bowl with a few slurps from the bottle, he created a sort of gruel. Tentatively, he took a spoonful. The resultant slurry was hardly pleasant, but nonetheless palatable.

And so Naldin completed the first of many such meals which were to become a staple for the foreseeable future.

(1) whichever one that might be

Script Wrecked

« Reply #10 on: July 01, 2011, 09:49:57 am »
Naldin had thought long and hard about what would be the best way to get amongst the people of Vehl to find out why they had been such a hard nut for the Temple to crack. As an adventurer marching around in armor he was marked as an outsider. Perhaps working among them would give him better access. He considered labouring as a dockworker, working in a tavern, perhaps even standing on a corner as a beggar. In the end, he settled for something a bit more useful; he could roam the streets as a tinker, going from door to door sharpening knives. All he needed was a grinding wheel and a barrow.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #11 on: July 02, 2011, 04:40:56 am »
Wandering the streets of Vehl as a tinker had been quite an eye opener. It was one thing to observe the Vehlians go about their day-to-day lives, quite another to be chased down the street by someone's losed dog, be warned off by surly youths gathered at a street corner, be pelted by cabbages by adolescents, or be spat by an obnoxious child upon from the refuge of an upstairs window.

More surprisingly, Naldin found that he had actually made a few coppers from his trade. It had proved useful that he knew a thing or two about a good edge on a blade or hatchet. He had gained a few insights as he had stood at backdoors grinding at his wheel. It seemed they were very tribal, and quite territorial with it.

It was like a whole bunch of villages had been mashed together and left to sort out amongst themselves how things were divvied up. Unfortunately, it seemed resources were sparse, and the rule of "first in, best fed" applied. So if someone, not of your village wandered by, they were fair game for, well anything, pickpocketing, mugging, or someone to beat your frustrations out on.

So, he hoped that his written [POST=1722242]submission[/POST] for street patrols to give the inhabitants an umbrella of security might gain some traction within the Temple machinery.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #12 on: July 03, 2011, 12:24:59 am »
A judge of the law courts had requested help from Maxamilian, Samantha and Naldin in tracking down and retrieving a bard whom had written a certain play which may or may not have incited an accused to rob the local Xeenite temple/shrine.

Och, Naldin had never heard such rubbish. It sounded like a feeble excuse to him.

Nonetheless, they travelled to the village were the bard was last known to be. En route, they came across a local gentry and villagers about to lynch a bandit for killing a shepherd. The Rofireinites could not allow that to happen, and offered to transport the bandit to Vehl for a fair trial. Given their current mission, Naldin volunteered to take the bandit back to Vehl. Samantha even gave him official papers deputising him in this matter.

So, when the bandit promised all sorts of largess in exchange for his freedom, Naldin was quite offended, and the return route may have been a bit more brusque for the bandit than it otherwise would have been. It was with no small pride that he discharged his duty when he arrived in Vehl.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #13 on: July 06, 2011, 02:23:54 am »
Naldin had fallen in with a group of beggars. Wandering the streets, he would drop the proceeds of his tinkering efforts into the various begging bowls as he went about his business.

One particularly dirty night when it seemed Mist was intent on reminding the whole town how close to the sea they were, Naldin was pushing his cart along a dark street. Someone signalled him from the shadows. Cautiously he approached, only to find himself ushered into a sheltered alleyway by a particularly wiry old beggar.

Gratefully he took his place at a small fire around which were huddled several other vagrants. They didn't say much, and barely grunted in greeting. Whether they had ultimately intended to rob him cannot be said, but as fortunate had it, Naldin was able to proffer a bottle of Tower Malt liquor.

This seemed to win him immediate favour. The bottle had barely completed one circuit of the group before the beggars opened up and started talking. It almost seemed a shame when the bottle finally emptied and the beggars turned over to sleep. They had had quite a few tales to tell from years of living on the streets, of the Beggars' Guild, people seen where they weren't "supposed" to be, and various nefarious goings-on.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #14 on: July 07, 2011, 08:04:25 am »
Bleedin' Imps! Naldin had thought when the imp Dantrag had showed his face again. Naldin had chased the imp off last time with a few well aimed shoots from his bow. Now the varmint had returned.

Save my master Dakkarnok, who is likely some pit fiend given its locale of Pit Three Hundred and Thirty Three, from some "evil" wizard called Nethrider. Like, what parts of that were likely to be true in any shape or form? And who would step into the snake pit of lies and deception to find out?

Not Naldin. He had made his view clear with a few more fine examples of his archery.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #15 on: July 08, 2011, 06:30:50 am »

Naldin had been sitting at a meager fire in the company of the beggars in the darkness of small corner at the back of a derelict warehouse when suddenly there had been banging on the wooden door. Not knocking, but banging, building to a crescendo.

Before Naldin had realised what might have been happening, his esteemed company had scrambled in the other direction.

The door was kicked open and someone poked a torch inside, "Little pigs... little pigs... where are you?"

With that, a bevy of young men, notable for their finer dress, burst into the warehouse. It soon became apparent they were in pursuit of the vagrants. Naldin melded into the shadows as best he good, intent on catching up with his comrades.

Noise of various commotions came from about the warehouse. It became clear that there were multiple groups of men scouring the place, and the beggars were having to work hard to avoid them. Some were not so lucky.

Naldin came across one of the beggars cornered by a particularly surly man brandishing his torch as a club. He seemed to enjoy making feigned strikes at the unfortunate beggar, turning him this way and that.

"You know what we're going to do to you, don't you," he sneered. The beggar's response seemed to indicate he knew.

The lout called for two of his fellows, but kept a watchful eye on his cornered quarry. Which is probably why he didn't have any idea what hit him when Naldin cracked him across the back and the head with a nearby timber.

The beggar pulled Naldin with him as he made his speedy retreat, but ran off when Naldin stopped to look back at the warehouse from the safety of the street.

A short time later, the men departed the warehouse, supporting one of their fellows as they left. Naldin's eyes narrowed as he appraised what had just taken place.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #16 on: July 11, 2011, 06:58:54 am »
After the incident at the warehouse, Naldin had found his beggar comrades scarce on the streets. Eventually they had returned to their usual haunts, and Naldin had learnt that one of them had been roughed up pretty badly that night.

So, when Naldin returned to Fort Vehl from a sojourn into the local wilds, it was with some concern that he found them gone again.

Eventually, Naldin tracked one of them down to the Beggar's Guild. The beggar was in pretty bad shape. It seemed the men had caught up with the beggars, and they had expressed their rancor at the beggars' escape and their leader being accosted. One of the other beggars had been killed outright, and another died later of his wounds. A quiet anger began to rise in Naldin.

The others beggars related how they were subject to predation by some of the young rakes of the town looking for 'sport'. It seemed there was no recourse available to the beggars' apart from the sanctuary of the guild. Too often the young nobles had be shown to be above the law and the beggars below it.

All this rankled Naldin no end, and seemed to exemplify everything that was wrong with Vehl. He gave the beggar one of his potions to drink, and passed the beggar master some coin to ensure the beggar was looked after while he recuperated.

He then set out with a mind to make some justice for the beggars.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #17 on: July 12, 2011, 07:31:13 am »
With help from members of the Beggars' Guild, Naldin had been able to track down the assailants from the night at the warehouse. It seemed they were young men from various merchant families and perhaps the lower edge of Vehl's nobility.

Naldin couldn't believe it. The privileged few preying, preying, on the city's unfortunates. For sport! They'd failed to learn from a reprimanding cuff, and instead killed two beggars in retaliation. These young men had been seriously failed in their up bringing. Or maybe it was their intrinsic temperament. Or maybe they had inherited their outlook from their parents. Or perhaps their privileged environment skewed their sensibilities. In any case, innocents were baring the brunt of this travesty. This could not be allowed to stand.

The All-Seeing saw all, saw this injustice. The common people must be protected, and yet the judicial process would likely fail them. Another path must be taken. A more direct path.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #18 on: July 13, 2011, 07:17:40 am »
Once Naldin had found out who the warehouse assailants were, it hadn't been too hard to observe them. He had been able to follow them about the streets of Vehl of a night time and saw what establishments they frequented. He had got a brief glimpse into their domestic lives as a temporary night porter and muckraker.

Everything he observed or learnt about them seemed only to confirm his original impression. It seemed the group's leader was at the center of determining how they amused themselves. Perhaps if he was removed, the others would show less inclination for beating upon the poor.

Naldin learnt they enjoyed hunting deer as well as chasing down beggars. This seemed too good an opportunity to miss. There were plenty of opportunities for accidents whilst out hunting, and the woods were familiar territory to Naldin. He would shoot the leader from the back of the group when they loosed their arrows at their prey, using one of their own arrows. It would look like one of them had accidentally shot him.

As an archer, Naldin was well aware of the propensity to watch the arrow until it struck the target. So, he took to the woods to practice releasing the arrow and immediately rolling back into the undergrowth. He intended to be out of sight before anyone thought to look around.

Script Wrecked

« Reply #19 on: July 13, 2011, 08:23:59 am »
Maxamilian: We make a good team, Naldin.
____Naldin: Och. Yoo foight wull, laddie.
Maxamilian: Naldin, have you ever considered your place in the faith?
____Naldin: Place?
Maxamilian: Yes... erm... What I mean to say is, where you fit in?  
____Naldin: Ay woold be a worshipp'r, aye.
Maxamilian: Are you content to be a layperson or do you want something more?
____Naldin: Wot sort o' more?
Maxamilian: Well, there are various organisations within the Faith.
____Naldin: Aye. Them knoights. An' tha temple guard, loike.
Maxamilian: Yes.
____Naldin: Ay be seein' ifn we can get patrols un tha streets o' Vehl.
Maxamilian: I know the knights take all sorts into their ranks as long as their Faith guides them.
____Naldin: Me? A knoight?
Maxamilian: I want to make a difference.
Maxamilian: Have you ever read the stories about the original leader of the Knights?
____Naldin: Sum Vais fellow? Oor uz he sum wun else?
Maxamilian: Sir Drais, that's right.
____Naldin: Och.
Maxamilian: He originally formed units made up of like hearted individuals all who served Rofirein.
Maxamilian: Mages, rogues, rangers, warriors and the like.
Maxamilian: It was important to have a group with varied skills for all sorts of situations.
Maxamilian: I've been reading up on them and I think the current knights have lost some of that idea.
____Naldin: Och. Tha's nay good.
Maxamilian: No... and... they lost a lot of good people over in Belinara.
Maxamilian: They are going to need more replacements.
____Naldin: Aye.
Maxamilian: I'm thinking about joining up.
____Naldin: Och-aye.
Maxamilian: I'd like you to consider coming with me.
____Naldin: *seems a little caught off guard*
Maxamilian: I believe you are just the sort of man... erm... dwarf the knights need.
____Naldin: *gets a little flustered* Me?
Maxamilian: *nods* Indeed, Master Naldin, I do.
Maxamilian: Remember, Knight is just a title, it wont really change who you are, unless you let it.
____Naldin: Ay moight be someone's squire, but ay'm nay sure ay'm a knoight type.
Maxamilian: But it does open certain doors for us within the Faith itself.
Maxamilian: *chuckles* A humble man is perfect for the job, Naldin.
____Naldin: Och. *blows air*
Maxamilian: Anyway, think about it.
____Naldin: Och. Ay'll do tha'.

* out of chronological sequence
+ edited for punctuation and response timing ('cos I type slow)