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Unread 24th of March, 2010, 20:31
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hedgeknight
Sucka of da Java [GM]

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Prologue 2

Revolution – Prologue 2: Bounty

Dreys looks at Mirko then back to the men. "Who be yer boss? We don't know ye and don't feel good letting ya look at our stuff. If’n you don't mind, please stand aside so we can get our stuff out of the rain."
"Ilrin Sharadin is our boss," replies the man with the golden teeth. "He sent us to invite you to talk with him about selling your goods. Would like to have a look see at what you got."
Borth grunts and says, "Tell Ilrin that he needs to stick with his regular suppliers and leave my friends alone. Tell him I said so."
The man's face reddens in anger and for a second it appears he might do something rash, but one of the other fellows grabs him on the arm and pulls him back a step. The man shakes loose from his companion, gives Borth another scathing look, and begins to walk away. "I'll tell him what you said, Borth. You can bet I'll tell him."

After the three men walk away, the sprinkling rain becomes heavier and Mirko begins to walk faster turning the street corner and heading toward the northern end of town.
"What was that all about?" he asks over his shoulder.
"Trouble is what." Borth replies, glancing back behind him. "We need to hurry 'cause Ilrin ain't gonna take kindly to what I said about him."
Within a few more minutes, the rain is coming down pretty hard and a peal of thunder rattles the clouds above. Thankfully, the sounds of a hammer ringing on steel are beginning to grow louder and through the downpour you can see Foehammer's Forge just up ahead on the left.
As you pull the pony and cart under a overhanging shed, a grizzled old dwarf comes waddling out of the forge, wearing a leather apron and holding a pair of tongs.
"Top of the morning, Borth! Damn fine weather, ain't it?"
"How's it hanging, Goldhand?" Borth replies. "Got some goods for you to appraise. This here's my brother, Mirko, and this is Dreys."
Goldhand gives each of you a nod and says, "What did you boys bring me? I need to take a gander afore Uldinath smells it and comes running over! Har!"

“Well Goldhand, take a look then and give yer best offer,” Mirko growls, sniffing the air and looking back to the street. He gives a nod to Broth indicating he should take it from there and steps back to have a better look to the street.
“That golden tooth and his crew better steer clear - I ain’t in no mood to suffer fools or waste time fucking 'round.”

Goldhand snorts and glances at Borth. “Somebody piss in yer brother’s eggs this morning?”
Borth shakes his head and murmurs, “Some of Ilrin’s goons tried to get us to sell to them just a minute ago. Mirko knows bad blood when he smells it.”
While Mirko watches the street and the rain begins to pour, Goldhand gives a quick appraisal of the gear. He grunts and murmurs to himself as he handles each weapon or piece of armor, ignoring any clothing or non-metal item. The only item he really spends any time with is the Mithril breastplate. You can see the appreciation in his eyes as he examines the finely crafted piece.
He sets it aside from the rest and says, “Well, ye got yerself a good haul here, boys. Most of it is just standard equipment and will prolly fetch a third coin of what it’s worth. Frindos will prolly buy most of it for the militia. That trident…is magical or I’m a two-peckered goat! Ain’t nobody in town gonna be able to give you what it’s worth. But this here,” he pats the Mithril breastplate, “is some damn fine work. I’ll give ye 500 gold fer it right now – that’s about half of its worth, but all I can afford. What say ye?”

While you are deciding on that, a tall, bulky fellow comes running across the road, squinting as the rain pounds off his balding head. Goldhand groans when he sees the man coming, but the man doesn’t notice…his eyes are on the contents of the cart. “Morning to you, Goldhand!” he booms, nearly as loud as the thunder. “Borth,” he adds with a nod, ignoring Mirko and Dreys. “Whatcha got here, Borth? Goldhand don’t know the value of good armor like I do.”
“Here we go,” Goldhand sighs, rolling his eyes and spitting in the mud.
“Good morning, Uldinath,” Borth says warmly, shaking the big man’s meaty hand. “My brother and friend brought these in for sale or trade; just wanted to get an appraisal. We were coming over to your place next.”
Uldinath grunts and begins inspecting the goods, ignoring the clothing and any non-metal item like Goldhand did. After a few minutes, he says, “Well, looks like the best item you have is that trident, but I couldn’t say exactly what it’s worth – I’d say you could buy a respectable business with it.”
He eyes the Mithril breastplate that Goldhand is resting his elbow on, frowns and says, “Most of this stuff is common fare, nothing too exceptional. Might get some decent coin from the militia. What did Goldhand offer you for that breastplate? I’ll beat his offer by 100 gold.”
“Shut yer hole!” Goldhand says, face reddening with anger. “I got the first offer and by rights it goes to me if they want to sell.”
“I know what first rights are!” Uldinath roars back. “I just want to pay them fairly for their goods, not try and swindle them.”
“Why don’t ye go suck on yer mother’s tit…like I did last night!” Goldhand retorts hotly.
“Why you stumpy ol’ bastard!” Uldinath growls, leaning forward. “You take that back right now, or I’m gonna – “
“Yer gonna what? Go crying to mama?” Goldhand says, poking Uldinath in the chest.
Borth jumps in between the two men, yelling and shoving each one of them, trying to prevent an all out brawl.
Dreys steps back out of the way, grinning, and turns to look at Mirko…and the grin suddenly flees his face when he sees his friend draw steel and walk out into the street in the rain. “Oh, shit,” Dreys murmurs as he steps out to the edge of the shed and looks back the way they came.

Stomping down the street come a squad of devilish beasts. Standing six-foot tall and easily outweighing Mirko, the creatures bear huge barbed glaives. The rain beats off of them and sizzles when it touches their thorny hides. Their barbed tails swish back and forth and the lead creature bellows and points its glaive at Mirko when the barbarian steps out in the street.
“Time to collect the bounty, boys!” it roars as all six of the beasts bellow…and charge!
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