Regdar

Chop O'clock

Description:

Level 4 Fighter    XP 6415

Armor Class 18    Hit Points 27 Initiative +5

STR 15

DEX 13

CON 14

INT 10

WIS 8

CHA 13

Bio:

 

The Origins of Regdar

Many years ago, there was an unusual weather event in the darkest depths of winter, which coincided with the appearance in the skies over Flanae of a series of shooting stars. There lived among a tribe of hunters on the High Plains of Dechycrois a young woman who suddenly became heavy with child, even though she had no husband or lover. Her name was Astiril, and she was approximately 16 years of age, and that frigid evening, as she was returning to her hut with some brushwood for her cook fire, she gazed out over the Plains and noticed the feverish showering of light. Her skin felt warm, and it was said that on that winter night, the temperature swung from a bone-chilling frost to a boiling, sweltering heat. Women and children were leaving their huts, running out into the starlit night, some without their skins or clothing of any kind. It so happened that the men of the tribe had traveled some miles from their village on the High Plains in search of the meat of Snow Manatee.

Miraculously, there stirred within Astiril a child, despite the fact that moments previously she was not pregnant, and had in fact been braving the Winter chill while carrying a considerable faggot of brush. Her eyes lit up with confusion and fear. Whereas moments before her skin had been protected from the elements by an animal skin, now beneath the falling stars, a child formed within her, filling her womb with a powerful stinging pain, and her confusion was compounded when suddenly her water broke, and the pelt she wore slipped from her shoulders. This revealed the intricate henna tattooing that covered her magnificent figure, which was now showing the indications of a full term delivery of a very large, and very unexpected child. She stood in the starlight, and it was if a fire was flowing through her body, and there was a greenish-blue light exiting her womb and joining the lights up in the sky. Then the stars began to fall in twirling loops of light, and she fell unconscious along the path.

It so happened that a certain member of the tribe, a cowardly young man named Liffensod the Northern, happened to have withdrawn from the hunt for Snow Manatee and had returned to the village empty-handed. As he turned a corner in the starlit night, he encountered Astiril, lying naked upon her animal skins, unconscious, with a baby seated upright between her legs. She had fallen asleep. The baby was occupied with tying its umbilical cord in a knot, and consuming the placenta with teeth that were cutting his infant gums, despite the fact that it had only been born moments before. Liffensod was known for avoiding the hunt and fighting, and he did not have a wife. He looked around the village and, although he could clearly make out the huts in the darkness, he could see no one but the beautiful maiden and the baby. He could not resist her supple beauty; her body was suddenly full of the curves and contours of a mother, and she had become suddenly swollen with milk. The coward approached her, still sleeping, and savaged her while her newborn baby was now standing nearby, and watching through horrified and tearful eyes. The little one recognized a crime being visited upon his mother, and he reacted to protect her.

The infant, now the size of a child, instantly formulated the skill of language and said in the Common Tongue, "Fiend, unhand that woman!" The coward, thinking he had been alone with a sleeping woman and an infant child, turned towards the words, then rolled back in amazement as he realized a naked child was standing over him, holding a bundle of the firewood that his mother had dropped only moments before. The child wound the wood as the coward stared on, lost in his own forbidden pleasure and not recognizing that the newborn baby was standing over him. The child wound the wood around itself until it formed a hefty cudgel. Liffensod stared on as the child approached, braced himself by standing on the man's backside, and swung the club with all of his might. The coward's head split apart, with a quarter of what had been his face flew across the grass and struck the side of a nearby hut. This stirred the occupants of that hut to come outside, where they found a naked young woman covered by the corpse of a rapist coward, and a naked young male using the cudgel to pry the corpse from his mother's body. The villagers gasped as the youngster pulled the animal skins over him and the woman, and nestled himself against her sleeping body.

When Astiril awoke, the cold of winter had returned to the High Plains. She was lying in a hut she did not recognize, and near her she saw a fire, and next to it the brushwood she had gathered and carried before, and she thought that she had had a horrible nightmare. She looked down at her body, and she could see the indications that she had recently given birth, even though she had been but a maiden the sunrise before. Then she turned and saw standing near her a naked male child, watching over her. He had grown a tangled mane of auburn hair and he opened his mouth and said to her "Mother, I am your Son." She was confused and scared. "Child, just yesterday I was a simple maiden who has never known a man, and last night as I was returning to my cook fire I saw a storm of falling stars that lit up the sky. Now I awaken to you claiming to be the fruit of my womb? I will need to pray to the Seven Sisters for understanding of all that has happened." With that she arose, and for the first time noticed the streaks of blood that covered her skin. She had no memory of the man who had defiled her, and the child did not mention it. She asked "Am I wounded? Have I bled?" And the child stood there, saying nothing. He didn't want to mention that he had slaughtered her assailant while she slept. There was a skin of water hanging near the cook fire of the hut, and she rinsed away the blood that covered her. Then she wrapped her skins around her body, and covered the child with a small-sized skin that had been covering a cassock, and she ventured outside of the hut.

The entire village stood there in a circle, and in the distance the body of the man was lying in the grass, being picked over by vultures and other birds. Astiril recognized her father standing amongst the crowd, and he approached her wordlessly, and guided her up the incline towards her home. As they walked, she turned to him and said "Father, this child claims that I am his mother…" Her father, a respected hunter and warrior named Kreg, was a man of few words, who had sired many strong young men and three beautiful daughters by his two wives. Kreg slowed his pace, and Astiril followed suit. He said to his daughter "Astiril, this is some strange miracle, and I will pray to the Five Brothers that it will turn out well for you, and that he will grow up into a proud warrior like his Grandfather before him." At this, Astiril wept. She reached out to her father and hugged him, and noticed as she turned that her son was now similar in stature to her. The child was standing there, and the animal skin that had covered him moments before was now barely covering his loins. She laughed.

When they returned to their home, Kreg handed the boy an appropriately sized skin, and a leather belt, and for good measure gave him a pair of old hunting clogs. In that village, at that time, it was a custom to name male children after their father's father, and to name female children after their mother's mother. The problem in this case was that there was no known father! Kreg turned to Astiril and said "He should receive a name." Astril's full name was Astril Dar Turckik Sidar. She puzzled for a moment over the mystery of the boy's paternity, and then decided on a name. She reached for a small box made from brushwood and animal hide and retrieved from it a locket on a golden chain, and approached the boy to place it around his neck. She said "I am your mother, Astiril, and I name you for my Father and my Mother; your name is Regdar."

Regdar lived in the village, and the winter turned to spring, and then there was summer, and autumn, and then winter returned. After but one year, Regdar was taller than Kreg, and had become a master with the sword, and the spear, and the knife, due to what seemed an amazing natural instinct coupled with the patient instruction of his grandfather, Kreg. Kreg was himself a man in his prime at this time, and strong, and merciless against the prey that the villagers needed to survive. Many an afternoon were spent together amongst the sweet breezes that swept over the High Plains, dueling with sticks or spears, or fighting with actual swords. Astiril would look on as she attended to her chores, and gaze upon her son in wonder. Kreg taught Regdar the ways of the warrior and the hunter, and filled his mind with the stories of their ancestors, and the wisdom of the High Plains. "Remember son, that there is strength in numbers. This is why we hunt in groups. Where three men would probably survive, a single man might die."

Before the last frost of winter had faded into the flowers of springtime, Regdar had become so massive and powerful that he was universally heralded as the mightiest warrior on the High Plains. That spring passed by peacefully, but as the summer arrived, and the tribe relocated to the northern reaches of the High Plains, there began a gossip about the young warrior and his genesis. The peoples of the Northern Watches were quick to whisper amongst themselves that he had slaughtered a man raping his mother on the night he was born. Eventually the rumors reached the ears of Liffensod's kin. Among this group was a powerful warrior named Leonessod, who fancied himself a sort of chieftain of the Northern tribes.

Kreg, Astiril, and Regdar were walking along one summer afternoon, and a thunderstorm threatened the skies, and they sought shelter. There was in this area an exposed cave like formation that provided some cover from the elements, and there were already in that place a group of Northern tribesman, including Leonessod, who stood shod in padded leather mail, carrying a Morningstar and a shield. He turned to the newcomers and announced himself, crying "No shelter for the freak that killed my cousin!" With that he roared, and the people became agitated and began calling and whistling, and menacing Regdar, and his mother and grandfather. Regdar and Kreg exchanged knowing glances, silently vowing to protect Astiril from this violent mob. Leonessod began to swing his Morningstar over his head and called out "Death for death! Regdar for Liffensod!" He lifted his foot up to step towards Regdar, but it never reached the soil; Regdar ran his sword through the shield and the arm of Leonessod, and the tip of the sword pierced his heart. He fell back to the ground, and the Northern Tribesman stood in awe, as they had seen the sword move through their chieftain's battle shield as if through goat butter. Instantly they were silent, and many of them dropped their weapons and began to move away, out from under the shelter, and into the storm. Regdar wiped the man's blood from his sword on the skins worn by his foe, and then called to the crowd "Come take your man away, as we do not want to pass the evening with his corpse. Return him to the High Plains. I have no quarrel with any of you."

As the months passed, Regdar honed his skills. He could shoot an arrow and hit an apple at 500 paces, and he spent all of his waking time exercising, working, praying, and hunting. Occasionally his tribe would skirmish with others, and he would grimly meet battle, as he was taught and learned through experience that warfare is an ever present possibility living on the High Plains. A year passed, and then another year and Regdar was now so full-sized that he and Kreg had to fashion a double-sized shelter from branches and animal skins. Their hut was collapsible so that they could relocate when their prey migrated north and south according to the seasons. Towards autumn the family was wandering in search of a rumor of a Giant Pike Snake, a monstrosity 60 feet in length, and said to provide enough meat for a hundred families to survive three winters. Their quarry led them far to the eastern stretches of the High Plains, towards the shadow of the Resdenmont Mountains, which were rumored to cover the ruins of an ancient city of a distant tribe, the Velhekkhans. Kreg, Regdar, and Astiril reached a valley near these mountains towards evening one day, and set up their camp before nightfall. By this time, Kreg was aging, and Regdar and Astiril served him a meal and then stood guard, talking by the light of a small fire about the Five Brothers and the Seven Sisters. They prayed together, and Astiril said "My son, you need a wife, even though you are not five years old. By springtime you should be married." Regdar laughed, and bid his mother goodnight, and prepared to stand guard until Kreg would awaken at midnight to relieve him. Hours later, Kreg did stir, and sent Regdar to sleep while he stood guard.

Regdar slept, and did not hear the stirrings of the Orcish horde that swept down upon them from the mountains. He was awakened to the sound of Kreg calling out "Regdar! Save your Mother!" and he flew from the hut carrying only his sword. In the moonlight he could make out many misshapen, foul-smelling creatures carrying whips and clubs and pikes. Kreg stood in the center of a heaving mass and sent heads flying from bodies and limbs from limbs as he swung his sword with a deadly precision, moving from stroke to stroke with a rhythm that he had learned from his father before him. But there were too many Orcs. Kreg slaughtered many, and Regdar approached the melee, trying to hide his fear for his Grandfather. Kreg was a mighty warrior, who had taught him all of the arts of combat and hunting. Kreg Turckik died that night, swinging madly through throngs of Orcflesh, taking with him into the Great Night nearly a hundred of the monsters.

Unfortunately, the Orcs had possession of Astiril, and as Regdar slaughtered the Orcs that had felled Kreg, they called to him, and as he turned, he was horrified to see that the monsters had her stretched out between them as they carried her into the morning sunlight that was streaming down the mountainside from the East. Regdar paused, and at that moment, an Orc knocked him to the ground with a blow from behind with a spiked club. All went dark for Regdar. While he was unconscious, the Orcs strapped him to the posts of the hut he had been sleeping in moments before, which they defiled with their excrement and the abuses they heaped upon the corpse of Kreg were later discovered by other High Plains tribesmen who had come to the area in search of the giant snake as well. Regdar and Astiril were carried into the Resdenmont Mountains, where the Orcs had recently begun to establish a westward extension to their ancestral domains to the East.

When Regdar awoke, he found that he was bound tightly and could not move. It was late in the afternoon, and the Orc horde was traveling rapidly up the mountainside, carrying him along over their heads. His sense of smell returned first, and the foul odor of Orcflesh caused him to feel nauseous. He could make out over the heads of the Orcs who were carrying him along that his mother was being carried in a similar fashion, except that she was fully awake and calling out to him "Regdar! Regdar! Save me!" His mind was filled with the memory of the man who attacked his mother the night he was born, and he remembered how easy it had been to split his head open to get him to stop molesting her. He managed to pull an arm free from the binding, and with his free hand he loosed the leather straps that were holding him to the stakes from which he was suspended. His arm found within reach the neck of an Orc, and he grabbed the monster and broke its neck, and with that the horde came to a halt. Regdar was dropped to the ground, and surrounded by slavering, stinking Orcs.

They were alarmed that he'd killed one of their own barehanded, and they hissed and brayed and spat and swung towards him with their weapons. Then one of the Orcs said in the Common tongue, "Man-child, we have heard of you. We were sent to retrieve you, to bring you to our Lord and Master, Fyffigil." Regdar stood erect, flexed his muscles, and announced "Your Lord and Master Fyffigil will receive no such prize this day, foul horde, as I will tear your hideous bodies apart limb from limb unless you return my mother to me, and leave us in peace immediately."

Unfortunately, this statement was met with laughter. Orcish laughter sounds to the human ear like the caterwauling of wild animals, and Regdar mistook their laughter for menace. Ignoring their pikes, clubs, and spears he strode forward and grabbed two of the Orcs and squeezed them until their necks snapped. One of these Orcs had been carrying a sword, which Regdar seized, and he began to swing it through the crowd, cleaving them in bunches in a vain attempt to reach his Mother. The horde at this point divided in half, with the half carrying Astiril moving up the mountainside, while the remainder outnumbered Regdar more than one hundred to one. Regdar fought and fought but the Orcs that remained were as much dazzled by his hubris and outmatched by his swordsmanship. They fell by the score, and as the sun set that day, Regdar stood over the stinking pile of the bodies of the monsters.

The moon rose, and Regdar examined the carcasses, and gathered from among the remains some simple tools, some water skins, and some scale mail armor that fit him rather snugly. He knew he didn't have much time to pursue the Orcs, but he found among the Orcs some leather bags filled with shiny metal discs of various colors. He bound up everything that he thought might be necessary for his pursuit, and then headed out up the mountainside, as the moon rose and the winter stars began to fill the sky. He thought that he could hear the cries of his mother on the breeze.

He set off beneath the pale glow of the Moon, and quickly found the trail of the retreating horde, as their vile stench remained in the air, in the soil, and on the plants and stones that dotted the mountainside. He turned his head as he strode, and could make out the reassuring light of the Five Brothers, but he was dismayed that the mountains obstructed his view of the Seven Sisters. His prayers this night would be out of balance, due to the missing Sisters, but more so due to his sudden separation from his family. His heart ached that he could not return his Grandfather Kreg to the earth, pray and sing over his tomb, as was the tradition of his people. His mind raced between images of his terrified mother and the monstrous visages of the Orcs who now possessed her. He followed the trail by star light, and by morning reached a craggy opening in the mountainside, through which the horrible odor of the Orcs streamed through like smoke that hung in the crisp morning air.

He had no torch, and not much more than a sword. He was famished. Nearby was a bush that sprouted a purple berry that was enticing to the eyes and nose. He harvested several handfuls of these berries after discerning that they were not noxious or poisonous, and stowed them away amongst his possessions, and he ate several handfuls at once. The berries were ripe and luscious and as he ate them, a tingling sensation entered his body, traveled up his spine and caused his vision to be enhanced in the low light of dawn, to where he could make out distant objects on the horizon. To the North he could almost see through the mountains, at the vast expanse of ice covered sea beyond. To the East, he could see the sun rising, but it was as if he could make out the very flames and colors of gases of the great Silver Disk. To the South, he could see down the ridge of the mountains, with the High Plains to his right and a vast expanse of desert to his left. To the west, beyond the High Plains, he could make out distant towns and villages (one named Pelak).

It was with the powers invested in him by eating the purple berries that Regdar could walk into the craggy opening where the Orc horde had passed only hours before, and see in the dark a rough and moist incline into the heart of the mountains. As he walked along, the effect of the berries would weaken, and he could no longer see where he was going. While clutching his sword, he would reach into a pouch, remove a berry, and consume one every few minutes. In this fashion he journeyed into the Orcish Hold beneath Resdenmont Mountains. For hours, or perhaps days, he journeyed in the dark. The smell of the horde grew stronger, and occasionally he perceived traces of distant light, further within the bowels of the chasm. He spotted a pile of bones, where the Orcs had made a breakfast of a Were-rat previously. Regdar moved on. Finally a light source appeared out of the darkness in front of him, and he moved toward it cautiously. He found himself in an open area, with a pair of torches mounted in rings hung from the walls surrounding a large stone door. Regdar could smell the horde now, and visions of his naked and helpless mother crying to him for salvation filled his mind with an overwhelming desire to slaughter the Orcs.

The stone door was heavy, but unlocked. He pushed on it, and it opened inward. It was as if they were expecting him! He entered a large hall, carved out of the very heart of the mountain, which was illuminated by many torches. The giant room was filled with Orcs. Suspended from a chain that disappeared into the darkness above the torchlight was a cage about twenty-five feet in the air. Astiril was in the cage, and she was calling to him. "Regdar! No! It's a trap! No!" she wailed and Regdar was surrounded by Orcs. They came at him in small groups at first, this group having witnessed some of the slaughter the previous evening on the mountainside, tentatively compared to before. Regdar had no compunction about their apparent fear; he began to swing the sword and cried out "Kreg!" – remembering his Grandfather who had taught him all he knew about combat and manhood. Kreg! Four Orcs cleaved into pieces. Kreg! Two Orcs beheaded. Kreg! Another one run through the heart, dying in a heap on the floor. A booming voice rose out over the din:

"Warrior! We mean you no harm! You are obviously strong and powerful! You are Death and Destruction! But…"

Regdar paused to listen. The Orc was speaking in the Common Tongue. Astiril was sobbing.

"We have your woman! We will not harm her if you serve us. You will fight with us against the Dwarves that used to possess this great hall. Or she will die."

Regdar looked around, to identify the voice. Seated on a dais above the horde was a large Orc who was wearing a mantle about his horned head that identified him as their Lord, the foul beast known as Fyffigil. This Orc was nearly twice the size as the others, and he had in his possession a giant sword, which he now pointed at Regdar as he spoke "Warrior, she will live, if we live. If you do not help us against the Dwarves, then she will die. Her fate is on your head. She is a fine woman." He looked up towards the cage and licked his leathery lips. "She is a fine wife for you." "Monster," said Regdar, "you speak of my Mother as if she were not a Maiden of the High Plains and the mother of a fell warrior. She is not my wife, nor will she be molested by you or any of your filthy patronage!" "Your Mother, no?" Fyffigil replied, "Excellent. Surely you cannot stand to watch your Mother perish with us? She is so young, so beautiful…" again he licked his lips. "The way to the Dwarves is through that passageway, over there…"

He gestured with the sword in the direction of a small crack in the floor and the wall, where one could see into the gaping maw of total blackness. Regdar looked up at the cage, and caught a last glimpse of his sweet mother Astiril, who was moaning and gesturing towards him, whispering now in her exhaustion "Regdar! Regdar! Save me!" Immediately a group of Orcs surrounded him and spoke to him, saying "Lead us to victory against the Dwarves, human! We saw what you did back there. When the Dwarves are gone, we will give you your woman." He led them into the passageway. The last sight of his Mother filled him with a savage bloodlust for these monsters. Regdar lost his Grandfather, and was manipulated into an attack on Dwarves, or worse, at the other end of the passageway, in hopes of saving his Mother.

Regdar led a small group of monsters into the darkness, until they came out into another open area, where the rock beneath the mounts collapsed down into immeasurable distant chasms and the odor of sulfur and other noxious fumes from the center of the world drifted in their direction. The Orcs by this time had taught Regdar their language as they traveled, and some of the Orcs fear and awe of him turned into what can only be described as admiration, or at least the closest thing Orcs are capable of to admiration. They talked and shared stories about Bug Bear hunts and battles they had endured for Fyffigil, who as a leader seemed to get them into frequent quarrels with their neighbors. The Dwarves were skillful artisans and miners, and would construct mighty machines of industry and defenses that the Orcs respected and described in awestruck words. The journey through the heart of the mountains had taken some days and nights, but without star light or sun light Regdar could not attend to his prayers or rest properly.

When they arrived at the mountain chasm where the Dwarves dwelled, Regdar looked up and could see through the chasm the faint trace of sky, and amazingly he could see along the opening above seven distinct stars in the darkness – it was the Seven Sisters. Memories flooded back into Regdar in an avalanche. He remembered, once again, the man who had molested his mother. He remembered splitting the man's head open with a bound up cudgel. He remembered the man's cousin had attacked him, and how he had run him through with his sword. He remembered Kreg, and how he had valiantly fought against the Orcish horde and perished. He thought about his mother being carried on the shoulders of the foul Orcs, naked as the day she was born, terrified out of her wits. He thought of her imprisoned in that cage, crying "Save me!"

The Dwarves were prepared for battle.

Regdar led the Orcs out of a passageway into an opening filled with wooden constructions for hauling ore out of the deep recesses of the mountain's heart. The stone floor of the chasm bottom was covered with bits and pieces of ore and metal, and in the pale smoky torchlight one could see the occasional glitter of gold and silver and platinum. Regdar stood before the group of Orcs and quickly decided that he needed to join the Dwarves and eradicate the Orcs who had journeyed with him. The beasts were armed with spears and sticks and clubs, and there were approximately two score of them. Regdar made eye-contact with a Dwarf sentry and indicated that he was with the Orcs against his will, then he turned slowly and moved into the swarm and swung his sword back and forth, finding its way through monstrous bodies, and the shocked cries of the Orcs filled the air as they fell in pieces onto the stone. Wave after wave of Dwarves came out of the darkness, and looked on with stern caution as Regdar stood over the Orcs he had slaughtered.

Finally, a large Dwarf carrying a studded mace approached, and called out in the Common tongue "Hail! Hail! Who is this violent Overlord whose sword is soaked with the blood of our enemies?" Regdar paused, his sword caught in the gizzard of an Orc who had been wearing leather vest, and turned to face his inquisitor. "My name is Regdar, and these Orcs have kidnapped my mother, and they forced me to attack you." The Dwarf responded "I am Ullfnar the Mean, and you have slaughtered several hated villains this day. I have nothing to offer you in gratitude but these gold and platinum coins!" "King Dwarf, you fight like the Warriors of my homeland. I have no quarrel with you, only the Orcs, who hold my mother captive." Ullfnar turned slowly and replied "Warrior, I will have my revenge on the Orcs, and assist you in rescuing your mother." Regdar was greeted with hearty embraces from the diminutive lot.

The Dwarves described to Regdar the history of their family. They had been driven from their ancestral home by the Orcs, and had surrendered the comforts of home in exchange for control of the machinery that filled the chasm, operating by means of wind and water pressure to mine precious materials from deep within the mountain. They were troubled because a number of their group had hot-headedly determined to return back to their home in the South, Kundrukhar, to carry on the legacy of Durgeddin, Ulfnar's legendary father, while the remainder had determined to stay at the mine and fashion weapons and machinery of war. Meanwhile, Ulfnar's son, Torval, fled north , taking his grandson Eberk along with him. Torval was a peaceful dwarf who wished to remove his son Eberk from the cycle of violence between orcs and dwarves.

Ullfnar initiated a party to join Regdar in search of the Orcs who were in possession of Astiril. Together they wandered back through the passageway from the chasm where the Seven Sisters had been visible, back into the heart of the mountain. Along the way Regdar ate the purple berries that helped him see in the dark. The Dwarves shared with him the stories and legends of their family and kingdom. The Dwarves and Orcs had always warred, and stolen from one another, and menaced and terrorized one another, in the darkness. It took some days to return to the Orc lair. The Dwarves didn't need as much rest as Regdar, but while Regdar slept they chattered away in the darkness about the legends and heroes of their race. After a week of walking and crawling through the stones, the party emerged from the passage way back into the Orc stronghold. The room was empty. The cage lay on the ground now, on its side, with the door opened, hanging broken off of its iron hinges. The Orcs had fled, and Astiril was nowhere to be found. Even the odor of the horde was gone. It was if they had fled immediately after Regdar and the Orc war party had left their presence.

Regdar turned to Ullfnar and said "King Dwarf, I have been betrayed. My mother is gone." Ullfnar put a hand on Regdar's shoulder and said "I must return to my realm. The Orcs have probably fled to the North." Regdar appreciated the gesture, and thanked him for his mercy and graciousness about the Orc attack that Regdar had led against his people. They looked into one another's eyes and then then Ullfnar and his party retreated back down the passageway, leaving Regdar alone.

It took another day to exit the mountain the way he had come. There, on the mountainside, he detected the faint odor of the Orcish horde again, this time seeming to describe a route towards the High Plains to the west. Regdar traveled for many days, surviving on game and fowl that he was able to hunt, and he slept in the open, praying to the Five Brothers and Seven Sisters, now visible in the vast openness of the High Plains night skies, dreaming of his Mother, and his Grandfather, and of the many melees and skirmishes he had experienced since losing them. He moved west, traveling for a season and day, until finally the High Plains gave way to the farm lands adjacent to the city of Pelak. The trail left behind by the Orcs had faded now, and it was not clear to Regdar whether or not they had ventured into the city proper, or skirted around it. Regdar was tired of traveling alone, and he was hungry, and he craved the comforts of home and hearth.

He approached the city cautiously, as there was a possessed tree in its vicinity that challenged passerby as they drew near, and Regdar could make out the indications that this strange tree had inflicted serious damage on the rocks and soil nearby. Regdar moved past the tree cautiously. Passing through the gates of the city, he looked around in amazement at the market, and the gardens, and the soldiers on guard. He had never been in a city in his life. A sign on a building showed food, and he smelled something aromatic wafting from its chimney. It was an Inn. He entered and looked around what was a small tavern, with a bar supervised by a bosomy woman carrying a tray of mutton and a stein of ale. "Take a seat," she suggested, but Regdar saw that the crowded tavern had no empty tables.

He turned to take in the entire room, and his eyes lighted on a table where there were seated a Halfling, a Paladin, an Elf, and what appeared to be stout Dwarf, who was adorned with armor covered in markings that Regdar recognized from his time among the Dwarves, and who bore a strong resemblance to Ullfnar. He made eye contact with the group, and the Halfling made a subtle gesture to welcome him to the table. He approached the table and introduced himself "I am Regdar, of the High Plains, son of Astiril the Fair, and Grandson of Kreg Turckik, mighty slayer of villains and monsters. A tribe of Orcs has kidnapped my mother and betrayed me, and carried her away to the west. I must rescue her from their terrible captivity, but I have lost track of them. Their trail led me to this city, and I am exhausted and famished. All I have with me is this sword and these curious metallic discs and nuggets. The party at the table looked on in amazement as Regdar produced a handful of gold and platinum. The Halfling smiled and said, "Friend, those coins should gain us some hearty sustenance and shelter for the night. We should get you something to eat and to drink. Join us for a game of Dragon Dice". Regdar would never again fight alone.

 

Regdar

Laceration Lords ZedLeplen