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Stories of a Cleric | Korba the Faithful
Stories of a Cleric
A small bound book scuffed and stained from many adventures.
Tuesday, 23 June 2015
The Scrimshaw Hunt

The rogue sat at a table inside the Rolling Inn comfortably near to the small cosy fire. His trollbark cloak nearly folded on top of his usual bulging pack. Taking a deep breath he leaned forward and closely examined the odd collection of scrimshaw items arranged in front of him.

Seemingly unrelated and in a few case slightly disgusting the rogue turned each one over in his hard, and peered intently, comparing them to a list written on a piece of parchment pinned down by an empty glass of ale. Looking closely at each one he tried to find some them, some importance to relate them to the full dull violet crystal he had exchanged each one for.

The scale of the task reminded him of that other hunt so many years ago. The creatures he faced this time much more deadly, despite his increased age and experience. So much time and toil in that revolting and tortured place, picking through the mutilated remains of what, if the rumours are true were once proud knights.

Shaking his head to try and forget the stumbling horrors of the dead zone he once again arranged them according to the order on the scroll. Sighing deeply and leaning back in his chair the rogue looked around and gave Roland a wry smile. It was no good, there was still only seven items and the list contained eight.

Pursing his lips he scooped the odd collection of items into his pack, picked it up and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders before heading back towards the gates of Fartown, destined to resume his scrimshaw hunt.
Korba posted @ 10:40 - Link - comments
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