Bastien

Volkon

Nitendae Rates

Nitendea’s attempts to join the Nompariel Thieves’ guild, had met with only moderate success. He’d been allowed ‘training rights’ but prohibited from any actual, less-than-legal, nocturnal activities.

He was also, acutely aware that he’d only been allowed to deal with the lower echelons of the organization.

He’d tried both persuasion and threat but, despite there being ‘no honour amongst thieves’, there was a strong sense of fear and self preservation. Everyone knew that to reveal the guild leadership was a self inflicted death sentence.

So, here he sat at a back table of ‘The Queen’s Gambit’. An, unsurprisingly dark and dangerous, drinking establishment. Sipping slowly from a glass of, what passes here as, red wine, Nitendae surveys his fellow drinkers.

Booze addled thugs and opportunistic pick-pockets. Human all.

These horrible people were typical examples of how the Elves viewed Humanity.

Foul as Orcs but with the morals of Goblins.

Nitendae sighed.

He knew that Humans could be much more, could be great but he had to accept that they generally straddled both extremes.

Just then a young girl, barely out of single figures, appeared at his table. Clutched in her hand is a sealed envelope…

‘Is that for me?’

The young girl nods and carefully lays it down upon the small table.

Her hand is still out when Nitendae notices that she’s staring at him. Half-elves aren’t unheard of but they are still quite a rarity.

Shrugging, Nitendae slices open the envelope with his thumbnail.

‘Nitendea.

The cost of membership to our Nompariel guild varies from applicant to applicant, depending on their area of expertise.

Your entry to our guild will be a single, unharmed bird from the dovecote of the famed merchant: DeGuile.

If successful, deliver it to me in the concealed room at the back at the ‘Queen’s Gambit’.

Good luck,

Valois’

Jerking his head around, Nitendae peers at the back wall behind him. There’s another room there?! Searching the dents and wallpaper seams, he fails to spy any telltale cracks or lever-like mechanisms.

It may be the darkness but perhaps he should brush-up on his observation skills?

‘Ahem’, mock-coughs the little girl with her hand still out, palm up.

Bonafidghter

Marlon stands battered but proud. The eleven fellow students standing next to him in a line have outshone him throughout the training but, despite graduating last in his class, he made it to the end.

Marlon sighs deeply.

He may not be smart or agile as the others but even passing last in his class is still a victory. Better yet, he knows that he’ll be more useful to Bastien and Nitendae in any future battles.

The three teachers award medal after medal to the successful students and finally make it to Marlon.

Standing on a box, Pechi drapes the ribbon over the Ox-like Marlon’s neck.

“Congratulations boy. The fighting style I taught you, may not be pretty but it’ll hopefully keep you and your friends safe.”

Marlon smiles as his stands back straight.

“Just remember to keep your guard up. You can’t save your friends, if you’re already dead.”

Marlon’s smile falters for a moment.

The life of a Fighter is a dangerous business but his friend Sereena is determined to keep adventuring and he also has a big debt to repay the war-priest and half-elf.

Once the ceremony is over, the other fighters drift off with their friends and family.

Without even a copper coin in his pocket and unsure what to do, Marlon loiters on the sandy floor of the arena.

Sereena had apologised in advance as she had to run some mysterious errand.

The diminutive Master Pechi calls to him.

“Hey Marlon, over here! I have a present for you.”

Marlon shuffles over to where Pechi’s standing over a battered chest.

“I heard from your sorceress friend, that you managed to get your hands on some second-hand Plate-mail.”

Marlon nods.

“Well armour is great but you’ll still need a weapon.”

As he speaks, Pechi pulls a heavy but well crafted Warhammer from the chest.

“It’s not magic but it’s the best I could find. Oh, and this shield may enable you to live a few days longer.”

Marlon gasps as he takes the two items offered. He’s no weaponsmith but even he recognizes ‘Master” craftsmanship when he sees it.

Before he can say ‘But’ though, Pechi raises his small hand.

“Look Marlon, you’re a good boy going into a hazardous profession. I’d hate to hear you died just for the lack of a decent weapon.”

Pechi then raps on the heavy, metal shield.

“And as you insist on only using a one-handed weapon, this’ll probably be useful.”

Marlon smiles broadly.

“I’ll repay this kindness. You’ll see!”

Marlon receives a ‘Large Heavy Metal Shield. and a ‘Masterwork WarHammer’.

A Bunch of Sheets

Assif presented a big pile of sheets a while ago.

I can't find Scott's sheet and I know David's produced nothing.

Please do your last minute adjustments this week and provide your final 5th level sheets this weekend.

:)

Roll on the 26th of August

How Big can I get?

While happily doodling up bigger and bigger maps, I suddenly realised that I'm limited to not just the size of the kitchen table but by Scott's wipeable rectangular play mat.

Each map square represents a five feet by five feet area is an inch across.

How big is the entire mat though?

Answers now may help prevent near future DM embarrassment.