ruffian tales

“Well, I’ve met your brother Angroil. He’s known to kid. But I myself saw something even stranger. I was returning from a job at Summit Hall and thought I’d have no problems, since I was only carrying my knapsack; but way out on the Larch Path, three bandits in breastplates and a scarred mage in dark robes brought me up short. When the bandits drew their longswords, the blades lit up with red-orange flames – the iron was on fire! And the mage – the edges of his robe and the back of his hood all flared up just like a bonfire. They made me dump my knapsack out, and to my dismay, that scarred bloke reached right into my secret pouch and made off with the two fire opals I’d just purchased. My whole nest egg, that was!”

“That’s enough tall tales, lad. We have plenty enough going on with regular bandits – though my cousin Haliyra in Yartar says that they’ve had a lot less problems with drunkards and beggars and the like. In Yartar, they’re desperately worried about piracy on the Dessarin; it’s gotten so bad Waterbaron Ruthiol is thinking about adding a waterborne squadron of the militia. But apparently that old mercenary Jolliver Grimjaw has found an old keep along the river and was recruiting folk to fix it up as a base from which to protect river trade. Knowing Nestra Ruthiol, she’ll subcontract out to Jolliver instead of increasing the militia.”

ruffian tales

Princes of the Apocalypse - Rogue Valley heathb_stage