A Land Far Away

I have posted In Character stuff various times in different forums and with a little push from Thinkpig, I am going to write about Blacke.

Introduction
The man lets out a deep breath and takes a step, then another, and another. He does not look back. His steps turn into a march. Behind him, in the early morning light, the broken, crumbling walls of Dragonspear Castle cast a long shadow. After a while, with the combination of the sun rising and his march, the man emerges from the shadow of the past twenty years.

Justin travels the Trade Way towards Soubar. Soubar is a filthy town of thieves, hawkers, and caravan men. Not the wisest choice for an old soldier set in his ways, but the most convenient march from Dragonspear Castle and importantly in the opposite directions of Waterdeep.

As the walking becomes rhythmic, a slow odd crooked smile crosses his scarred and aged face. His mind drifts to the conversation with Captain Jordair last evening.

In the oil lantern lit room, Captain Jordair sat behind his desk while Justin stood rigidly, exactly 4 steps away, dead center in front of the desk facing Jordair. Jordair was dressed in his officer’s uniform with his rank clearly marked on his lapels. Opposite him, Justin was dressed in a well-used but polished chain shirt, cloth trousers, and black boots that had been shined too many times. His long sword rested on his hip sheathed in a scabbard.

The Captain was appointed commander of the garrison at Dragonspear Castle eight years ago. Still, he was five years younger than the old blacksmith apprentice that stood before him. The apprentice standing before him was called Blacke or Black. He was named that long before Jordair arrived at the castle. Jordair referred to him as Black, calling him Blacke (Blackie) seemed a young man’s name and Black was probably the oldest man in the garrison.

As Black saluted him, Jordair nodded in response. He looked over the papers and reports in front on him. He took a small stack from the upper right corner of his desk. The papers had been there all day and although he had read them once earlier in the day, he took his time and paged through them again, stopping at certain points, looking up and Black, and then back to the papers. Then he studied the one single page report hidden among the other papers, he read it for the fourth time and shook his head. Finally, after what seemed like an hour to Black, the commander cleared his throat and spoke.

“Black, I’ll commission you as an officer in the garrison.” The commander paused to let the words set in. “You’ll be a Lieutenant at first light. My oldest but at least you won’t rush to your death like most of the young gallant knights that come here looking for glory.” He stared at Black looking for a hint of reaction, but Black remained rigid and expressionless.

The Captain pressed a little more, “Come now, really? What are you going to do outside of here? Old soldiers like us, we do best in the confines and the safety of structure. You belong to these walls now, whether you like it or not.”

The garrison commander spoke rarely to Justin; much less with the familiarity of an officer to another officer and that fact alone had Justin’s head spinning. He let out a breath to calm himself. He proceeded with his request, “Commander, it is a fair offer. However, with your permission, I have completed my service and would like to take my leave, sir.”

The commander glared back at him for a while, then shook his head, and let out a sigh. “Black, you know damn well that you don’t have to ask my permission. You have completed what was asked of you. You are dismissed.”

Justin gave a single nod in return, saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out.

Black is quickly brought back from his memories as an arrow slams into his shield. Three goblins creep up out of the woods on his left. Goblins are little smarmy creatures. From his life in the garrison, he knew their kind well enough. They preyed on the weak and a lone traveler on the Trade Way is a chance for easy coin.

Black reacts. He points his shield toward the enemy and braces for the next volley. Once the volley is launched, Black throws an axe towards the nearest goblin and charges. On the run, he draws his long sword and barrels into the first goblin.

He swings hard at the goblin in front of him. However, another goblin strikes him from behind slashing through the back of his thigh. Black curses in pain. The third remains a short distance away firing arrows toward Black.

He delivers a lucky swing and lops off the head of the goblin in front of him. He quickly turns and hammers the goblin behind him with his shield. The goblin stumbles and Black takes advantage and thrusts his blade into his gut. However, the archer found his mark and places an arrow into the Black’s back. The arrow lodges itself just below his lung, he is lucky.

He turns and charges the goblin archer. In his anger, he swings wildly and sends the archer’s bow flying out of his hands. Unarmed and in shock, the archer eyes plead for mercy. Justin calmly thrusts his sword into the goblins belly and whispers into the dying goblin’s ear, “I’ll fuck your mother with this sword.”

Catching a hold of himself, he curses himself for being stupid. As a man of the shield wall, he rarely had enemies behind him. He always fought in organized ranks. His reaction to charge, while beaten into him in training and logical in a company of foot soldiers, almost got him killed. Worse, he let the goblins get the better of his temper. Dumb. He must control himself. He cannot lose his temper. He swears that he will not lose it again.

He scans the horizon looking for more. The flatness of the moor, the sparse trees, and the even fewer hills offer a long impressive view. He sees no more goblins, but a chilling feeling sets on him, he is in the Western Heartland, he is no longer a soldier of the garrison, and he is alone.

Awesome! You've got a great talent for portraying combat, I'm a little shy about it myself. Looking forward to more

Great stuff. And Ty for a great meet'n'deal-RP session Mr Blacke.

A Good Old Dog
The fire crackles. Blacke looks up from his work and stares into the flames. He is repairing and polishing his tools of war. At this moment, he is working on sharpening his new alchemized silver long sword. He lets out a small breath and closes his eyes letting a memory flood over him. He mutters softly to the sword “you drank vampire blood, and you drank your fill.”

Trip plops down next to him and jabs at him “Hey old fart, you taking a nap?”

Blacke keeps his eyes shut and his mind races back to the recent battle. Trip notices the strain on Blacke’s face “Look General, you might was well spit out whatever is in your head out, it’ll clear up your mind, but don’t go embellishing it with glorious shit.”

A man whose previous life was formality, orders, and after action reports begins to draw the report up in his mind. He starts editing it into the proper form then he stops himself. He opens his eyes and gives her a cold look.

Slowly a wiry smile appears “Alright, here is the tale of the good and glorious and why old farts like me will always be needed.”

Trip laughs and coughs up some of her wine. “You ain’t needed, you arrogant prick, you are like a mean old dog tied to a post, they don’t need you, they just use you.”

Blacke gives a half smirk then slowly an unpracticed laugh erupts. “Guess’n that be about the sum of it.”

Trip raises an eyebrow in response and Blacke begins,

“We numbered five. Our mission was to rescue some woman from the clutches of a vampire bitch that was controlling some of the gnolls in the area. The Master Elf Agaril had the command. He ain’t the best commander in the realm but he was serviceable in the role. But trust me, don’t get on the wrong side of that elf, he the best cutter I’ve seen and he can empower himself through magics. You think you can remember not to go pissing on his boots, Trip?”

She just gives him a cold stare in return.

Blacke continues “In addition to the elf, there was that young tart, Caine Kross, she still ain’t hard to look at, but I am beginning to wonder if she just plays at being dumbfounded. Cause on this particular outing, she was clear and quick thinking, perhaps the heat of the battle calms her.” He raises an eyebrow and gives a devilish look to Trip.

She punches him hard in the chest. “Your old enough to be her granddaddy plus we all know you just grumble, mutter, and mumble about women but you don’t do shit.”

He snorts and moves along with the story, “For scouts, we had that pirate scoundrel, Layla. Think she got two or three names she goes by. You know, the moody bitch that makes me look like a sugary sweet apple pie. Gotta to say though, she was a relief compared to the other scout, Lash. He was the one most set on finding the woman. But by the gods that man is tight as a drum.

I’ll bet you if’n you lay your elven body naked in front of him and beg for him to take you right now, he’d say it ain’t honorable to get laid without being in love, but now, if’n you ask him to die to save your soul, he squat on his own sword right in front of you.”

Trip laughs at the thought running through her mind.

“Regardless, we made our way south along the highway. We encountered light resistance from the dog men but nothing substantial till we headed up the pass into the mountains past Naskell. It was there that we ran into multiple raiding parties of the gnolls. We dealt with them in turn. Not much to report cept, the gnolls are as bold as you. They attacked three frost giants and Amnian soldiers without much consideration.

Finally, we arrive at the cave entrance. As we are all readying ourselves and stirring up our courage for the venture into the unknown, the pirate lass grabs ahold of the tart, Caine, and kisses her full on the lips. She said it might be her last chance. “

He shrugs “Seen worse things done before battle, much better watching that than having my boots soaked in vomit from the guy puking next to me.”

“Well after that moment passes, we enter the cave. And it went about as well as you trying to sweet talk the guard Captain.”

He shakes his head and gives a look of distain. “So here is my take on it, on entering the cave, we spot these undead dog men. So we try to form a shield wall to take the dog undead beasts at a choke point. You know, bring the bastards to us, well, frig! That Elf goes charging up.

I follow like a good loyal dog. Around us there are about 5 of these gnoll undead things, a true vampire gnoll, and a drowess vampire. Well, we start swinging our way through trying to get to the drowess vampire.

After just a few moments, Agaril orders me back to the others. To be honest, it was a damn good thing he did. I rush back to them and the tart and the pirate are both on the ground. Lash is engaged against a larger vampire dog man and doing poorly. I take the pressure off, by placing my sorry ass in between the vampire dog man and the two women. While Lash is healing them up,” He stops and thumbs the sharp edge of the silver blade. “this beauty drinks his blood.”

He pauses to take a slug from a bottle of spirits. “Well, we return to help the Elf. Combined we put the drowess vampire thing down but it turns to gas and floats into a nearby coffin. This is one of those moments with that tart being more then sensible. She goes about leading the efforts to drive wooden stakes into the creatures’ hearts. Which, if you ever happen to have the chance to do, make sure you back up, once you stake um they erupt into flames. I figure they do it cause they know they are going to the hells and they want someone to come with them.”

He gives a smirk and grumbles “Now mind you all of my friggin heroics were caused by lack of a good plan. If that elf, wanted me to hold from the start, I would have gladly held the line, how in the hells was I supposed to know, I had his right, I was supposed to guard it, so I did.”

He continues “Soon, we find a secret door and behind it there be this vampire woman that Layla knows. This vampire appeared and then disappeared. And to think on it, I bet you a stack of coins that the others had previous run-ins with her as well.

To my friggin surprise, we finally get our wits about us. We use a choke point on a set of the gnoll vampire bastards streaming out the hidden door. Got to say, that went very well. Once they stopped coming, we entered the last room. This last room was a torture chamber and prison of some evil sort. Bodies lying about all mangled and shit.

It was here we found the girl and by the luck of the gods she was alright. Of course, Lash attaches himself to her like a leech. We also find some papers and shit that upset Agaril and the rest, but that ain’t my business.”

“From there, we gather up a fair amount of loot and head back to Beregost to the sweet sounds of trumpets blaring and hero’s reward.”

He smirks “At least for some, all the old dog got was nice spot in front of the fire.”

Beautiful! One of the more accurate accounts of an ALFA adventure I've read. Love your character, and Blacke is one of Layla's favorite companions.

Mikayla,

Thank you. I have never been accused of being a great writer, but I am enjoying it.

Also, playing Blacke is easy. Most of you take on much bigger RP challenges and do it very well.

Sincerely,

Me

StephenUmpf wrote:A Good Old Dog
Gotta to say though, she was a relief compared to the other scout, Lash. He was the one most set on finding the woman. But by the gods that man is tight as a drum.

I’ll bet you if’n you lay your elven body naked in front of him and beg for him to take you right now, he’d say it ain’t honorable to get laid without being in love, but now, if’n you ask him to die to save your soul, he squat on his own sword right in front of you.”

Perfect. Very enjoyable read as always. Love Blacke.

Friend
Blacke enters the Blade and Stars. The patrons look up from their tables but quickly lower their gaze as not to attract his attention. He has been known to insult and ridicule anyone caught staring at him. But in the briefest glance, it is clear that he has been waging war. His normally spotless armor is dented and covered in dried dark red blood and he smells of a musty earth and death. He barks to Shawnie for a drink. The good news for most of the regulars is that with his blood lust satisfied the old man will just sit by the fire and polish his armor and sharpen his swords.

But before that can happen, the old man spies the new comer at the bar and coldly stares at him. The new comer, who goes by Toby, had arrived in the last week. With his boyish face, pointy hat, loose fitting robes, herbal tea, bewildered look, and soft mannerisms, he was quickly placed in the harmless traveling wizard category. The wizard doesn’t notice Blacke’s stare, however, all of the patrons do and they watch Blacke intently.

Slowly the stare turns to a grin. His eyes gain a boyish twinkle. He thunders at the wizard “Master Toby! By the hells, what has brought you here?” The patrons rest easy.

Toby and Blacke commence to sharing stories. They ask each other about old comrades from Hill’s Edge. Neither has heard from any of them. Sadly, they move to talk of new work and adventures. For Toby, Blacke remains the same: old, gruff, bitter. Perhaps though when giving it some thought, he is the same but just older, gruffer and more bitter. For Blacke, Toby is strangely the same. Blacke considers this odd and it rests uneasily in his mind. He knows Toby has been at work at his trade but yet he remains scared of his own shadow and perversely humble of his growing powers.

After a few too many drinks for Blacke, he stumbles up to his room. The next morning, Blacke approaches Toby with an offer for work.

“Hey Jumpy, good to see you again” barks Blacke

“Good Morning Sir”

“To the hells with the sir shit, either Blacke, Blackie, or Bastard.”

“Of… course… Blacke”

“Good to know your ears and brain still work, on that point, I have to pay back a favor for a friend of mine. You interested in helping me. I could use your deductive powers.” A slow half smirk appears on Blacke’s face.

Toby looks back inquisitively “What kind of work, Si… Blacke?”

“Got to go help kill about a hundred gnolls and then kill their leader for a woman.”

“A hundred! Seriously? And who is this woman?”

Blacke shrugs “Not sure about the hundred. But the woman, she goes by the name Zova. She be one of those that use their bare hands to kill. She is tough as an old stone. Smashed me good in the nose once or twice.”

Toby looks up incredulously “She must be a wild woman to use her hands to kill.”

“Nah, she is one of those lawful crazies. Think they called Monks or something. Regardless, she is pissed that this gnoll leader smacked her around so she wants revenge. That said she might bring one of her friends along. A sneak by the name of Irena."

Toby shakes his head and attempts to stare out the truth of the matter. “What kind of people are these friends of yours?”

Blacke gives a half smirk as he proceeds out the door. “Funny word that is, friend.”

Toby follows.

(will write up the adventure with the gnolls next)