The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

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Entheogen
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The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Sun Feb 23, 2020 10:53 pm

// DM notes: Please feel free to add to anything I write here, to make comments or criticisms, to ask questions, or to derail or destroy entirely. Also please be empowered to possess my character in the same manner I assume and create my own stories and personalities for your generic NPCs. Let me know if I overstep, and I will also be doing my best to add and reflect anything which evolves IC in game. I choose to use this as opposed to the discord as I wanted to roleplay in the longer story format which I didn't feel fit in the IC-RP channel that seems to be used more for shorter direct correspondence.

Seagulls squawk nearby, as a man takes his first steps onto the creaking gangway from the ship which brought him to this place, to once great Sarshel. Walking slowly along dockside he looks about with a weary scrutiny, pausing among the merchants squawking over their wares. He makes a dismissive snort, and raises a brow as if to say he is unimpressed and continues on. Scanning his new surroundings further, he walks past the city folk, the children playing, a patrol of guardsmen, until he stops by the entrance of a trading company and seems to be considering going within. A docks worker bumps into him from behind and, checking his coinpurse is still attached, he turns to the apologizing man as he tightens his jawline and his eyes narrow. Not on the offending docks worker but past him to the man who has a blade strapped to his belt and is clothed in a motley assortment of armor walking down the nearby ramp. This is his type of man, a mercenary or sellsword, perhaps even an adventurer or ruffian. Dismissivly he waves the worker off as he makes his way to pursue the person who caught his attention. Following the quarry they traveled further along dockside into a shadier looking warehouse portion, a nearby street sign denotes 'Dockside Round' and another sign, this one attached to a building, was emblazoned with two swans. The man whom he was following enters the building adorned with the sign casually, and as the door swung wide rowdy discourse could be heard within. He smiled to himself then as he stood outside for a long moment observing the building and then the nearby streets before saying under his breath with a Sembian accent, "The Two Swans eh? Lets hope the company is better than the name." and he entered.

The door groaned in protest as weight pressed against it, something or someone wished to enter and it wasn't quite sure if it wanted to be opened. Realizing that its assailant was the stronger, the door quickly gave way on hinges rusted by years of exposure to the air that was thick with salt from sea spray and swung in. A barrel chested human stepped through, he was about forty winters old or so. Almost shoulder length black hair was peppered everywhere by gray and hung loose about his face, it was beginning to knot and lock together in places where it had been consntantly tossled by the winds at sea. The bottom of his face was covered in a mostly unshaved beard and his chin hair was a bit longer than the rest. He wasn't a very tall man, standing maybe an inch above average, and altogether not very handsome. Though he may have been more so in his youth before his solemn face was set with deep creases from being constantly furrowed as though deep in thought or in disagreement with something unseen. Dressed in thick chainmail and carrying a great shield at his side with a longsword belted to his hip. Besides the sword he also wore a couple pouches on his belt and several vials in holders, of which only one contained anything. When he turned to survey the room a travelers pack could be seen on his back, and it appeared to contain little to no possessions.
Last edited by Entheogen on Mon Feb 24, 2020 2:52 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Entheo Genesthe - Sellsword, Explorer, Adventurer
Umbra - Thief, Scout-Informant, Assassin

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Entheogen
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Sun Feb 23, 2020 11:14 pm

The attention of the patrons within the tavern was quickly garnered by such a man, and with the same haste dismissed. As one could see that the patrons within were cut from the same thread as this man, warriors, guardsmen, sailors, and mercenaries. Not the types to care overmuch in the presence of one of their own kind. He expected to find ruffians and rougish types within this establishment, as was his experience in the dockside taverns of the Sembian coastal cities, and was surprised to find two off duty guardsmen swapping tales with a traveling adventurer. With a cursory glance to the handful of patrons within, his sight found the one he followed to this establishment and it appeared that man was speaking to another at the bar. The mercenary, as it turns out, was reporting to his captain who was a grizzled old veteran with an air of command, about the details of a recent expedition. The Semmite newcomer to Sarshel decided he was in the right place then and moved through the room with surprising deftness despite his bulky armaments and assumed a seat at the far end of the bar not far from the mercenary and his captain where he could listen to their conversation.

The mercenary explained to his captain where the man that they had been hired to guard took them, it was to the illegal underground fighting pits in the seediest alleyways of Sarshel. Apparently there was an enormous tournament of slaves, gladiators, and monsters and vast amounts of coin were to be gambled. At some point during the event a confrontation erupted between their employer and the operators of the establishment and the mercenaries were forced to act. Completely outnumbered the men were decimated and their employer was killed, only the one mercenary was able to escape through sheer luck of the moment. The captains face was furious and distraught, it was obvious he cared deeply for his men. Perhaps in time he would garner the forces to take revenge... and if someone were to take that revenge for him in a more timely manner, maybe just maybe he could be persuaded into a favor. A man like the captain knew people of all walks, mercenary captains often rubbed elbows with the lower ranks of nobility, and at times could be in quite good standing with those in positions of power of the cities which they operated out of such as the captain of the guard or local barracks, and key merchants. Entheo decided then, he wouldn't let this opportunity pass him up and he promptly drained his tankard and set off in the direction the mercenary previously indicated these pits were located.
Entheo Genesthe - Sellsword, Explorer, Adventurer
Umbra - Thief, Scout-Informant, Assassin

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Entheogen
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Sun Feb 23, 2020 11:40 pm

The sudden clash of swords rings out and a blow is parried followed by a resounding 'thuuuum' as an axe deflects off a shield. The sounds of combat cease then as the clashing forces take a moment to assess each other. Entheo is in a fierce battle with several men and they have him surrounded. His back only feet away from a bar and wall in the corner in a large underground room, its main feature a crude fighting pit in the center. Spectators crowd together in an opposite corner, some with terrified looks while others shout over the din of combat with depraved grins taking bets and exchanging coins. Several bodies lay dead near the hallway leading into the room. "Throw down your sword and we'll let you live" bluffs one of the men surrounding Entheo. With a growl he adds, "Do it now or your guts will be spilled." Another tacks on "We're going to chop you up and shove you down a sewer hole if you don't you worthless maggot!" "Do you really expect me to fall for that?" Entheo asked mockingly, his cool demeanor showing no signs of being intimidated. Inwardly he knew he was in a bad spot but he couldn't let it show else it give them hope. He knew hope is a dangerous thing, a double edged sword, with hope men grew bold and bold men were decisive. Without hope men would be routed as fear took their hearts and their courage, fleeing men were easy to cut. He was a hopeful man, a bold man, he was seeking to garner favor and leverage but not expecting this much resistance. Too bold in fact, he foolishly pressed too far into the large room and was quickly overwhelmed and forced into a worse position by numbers alone. Probably the same mistake that took the mercenaries before him. "Besides, I've already bested half a dozen of you on the way in, whats another ten?" Entheo added tauntingly, "or twenty?" The Semmnian and the knaves of the pits hoped to demoralize the other and improve their chances, killing the oppositions hope. If he was going to die, it was going to be in a pile of their corpses he decided and he steeled himself for the bloodbath about to happen.

"Die fool!" he heard a man shout suddenly from behind him and he knew the blow was coming before he felt it, the bartender it seems was hiding and decided to sneak an attack in while Entheo spoke and composed himself. Caught off guard he reacted on insticts alone, bringing his left arm up to place his great shield before him horizontally, eliminating almost every effective angle of attack from the front. Snapping his head around, he pivoted at the same time turning his core to hopefully turn a direct back stabbing thrust into a glancing blow. It worked, the feeble mans dagger finding no purchase as the stronger steel now rotating with force turned his dagger point aside. Then down came Entheo's blade in a deadly overhead arc, his longsword splitting the skull of his would-be assassin. The others rushed him then hoping to overwhelm him but his training and armor proved the better.
Thats another thing he knew, armor, it was the lifeblood of an adventurer who lacked magic arts or covert skills. A good adventurer needed good armor, and needed to know it personally like how to repair it and how much force each area of the armor could take, a good warrior knew how to disperse the damage to his armor so as not to destroy it. He had worked much of this chainmail himself as he apprenticed to a blacksmith in a port town while waiting for a ship to take him further. That knowledge proved invaluable now as blow after blow he could not dodge nor stop with his great shield was met with only the strongest areas of his armor at angles that offered the least purchase.
When it was all done, he had suffered a few injuries but nothing immediately life threatening and there were fourteen more bodies at his feet. The last five had attempt to flee but had been unable to as the mob wishing to see what would turn out to be the best fight of the night, circled in tightly and cutoff any hopes of quick retreat. Offering no mercy he did not hesitate to stab them in the backs, and where it would hurt the most at that. Taking the vial from his belt, he uncorked it and swallowed its contents. his injuries began to heal immediately. It was just then when he heard the sound of a mage chanting a spell and as if on queue the mob parted evenly to reveal a man in the distant corner of the room completing the incantations and complex motions of a spell. Sudden panic filled him, all hope gone, the word hope a meaningless sound. Fear infected every corner of his mind for a moment and all he could think was to flee, to be gone from this place. Rushing into the crowd he pushed past them with reckless abandon to make for the hallway and the ladder to the hidden exit above. Hot pain flowed into him from behind as bolt after bolt of magical force slammed into him penetrating his mundane defenses, and through that pain realization came back to him. He realized, that he did not fear this hedge mage miscreant and his mind had been controlled through foul magic. Not slowing be broke through the doorway to the hall beyond, and ducked behind the corner as soon as he was out of sight. The mage followed probably assuming he was fleeing down the long corridor still and without pause carelessly rounded the corner into the hall where Entheo stood in ambush. That was the mages last mistake as the first swing of the blade took his arm, the second opened his throat and he collapsed moving no more, feebly grasping at his lifeblood spilling out, and he was dead.
Last edited by Entheogen on Mon Feb 24, 2020 7:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
Entheo Genesthe - Sellsword, Explorer, Adventurer
Umbra - Thief, Scout-Informant, Assassin

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Entheogen
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Mon Feb 24, 2020 6:58 am

The patrons who had remained to see the end of the battle fled then, through some as of yet unseen backdoor. Entheo let them go, for he had accomplished what he set out to. He took a moment to catch his breath and check the corpses both for any that were only pretending to be dead and hoping to sink a blade in his back or crawl away and to rummage among their possessions for coin or anything useful. After the task was done he walked over to the edge of the pit, looking down into it a man stood there bloody and bruised and was staring back up at him. "Am I to fight you now then?" the pit fighter asked his voice flat, a hollow empty man. "No" replied Entheo, "but if you were to extricate yourself from that pit you could fight at my side or walk away. The way I came from is clear." The eyes of the man in the pit flared to life, a sudden fire growing within them and he quickly peered around the rim of the pit perhaps realizing for the first time they were alone in the room. It would seem that he was fighting for his life at the same time Entheo was, a half orc man lay on the bloody dirt beside with his face crushed in. "P-please, help me out of here" he pleaded desperately and came to the edge of the pit reaching up hopefully. Laying on his stomach, Entheo was able to reach down and grasp the mans hand who then pulled himself up and out.

"Whats your name lad?" asked Entheo to the man he had just rescued. "Troike, my names Troike. Thank you for what you've done. Its a shame you didn't get here sooner though, all the rest... they're..." he trailed off with a hint of sadness. "The rest? The rest of what?" Entheo was looking confused. Troike cleared his throat, "the rest of the slaves down below, the ones I was brought here with, doesn't matter now they're all dead. Just forget I mentioned it. "Troike, just get yourself out of here alright. If there is anyone else alive down below I'll do what I can but you need to get going while its safe to run." "Thank you again ser, truly, I can't thank you enough. May the gods bless and watch over you." With that Troike took off with a trot in the direction Entheo had indicated was safe.
Searching the rest of the underground structure Entheo found a torture room, and slave cages. Two of the cages held savage humanoids, bugbears and goblins. Having no remorse for the evil creatures situation Entheo left them to their own demise in the cages. They'll probably eat each other before they die he thought briefly, and then he found the weapons room. Many decent weapons of all types lined the walls, between these and the blades recovered from those he'd slain, he could make quite a nice profit. There was still one more room to explore, a door at the top of some stairs leading up from the pits, a desk cluttered with coin and papers was near the base of the stairs. Fumbling through he found several silvers, pocketing them. In the chamber at the top of the stairs he found another desk, and a few chests. The chests appeared to have been emptied hurridly, but in the desk he found a note. At first glance a shopping list, but after everything else he had seen down here he had his doubts. It was signed with a W. Perhaps a lead or perhaps nothing. On the way out he discovered a passage leading into the sewers, so thats how they are moving their merchandise of bodies he thought. Realizing it was likely trapped and that injured as he was, it would be a foolish pursuit, he tucked that knowledge away for another day and made his escape the same way he had entered.

Back at The Two Swans, he drew quite a bit more attention than the last time he entered. As it was clearly evident to any who looked, and they all stared at him, that he had been in quite a scuffle recently. Recent blood stains that were not there last he had entered some hours before were drying on his armor and shield, smeared by his meager attempts to wipe it off while he had walk through the docks. Looking worse off than he was as he had not yet properly tended to himself, instead relying on the magical healing draught to staunch any blood flow. Entheo sauntered up to the mercenary captain who was in what must have been his usual seat, and sat in the empty stool beside him. "Its done." he said simply, purposefully leaving the statement vague and full of mystery, begging to be inquired further upon. "Oi? Whats done lad?" the gruff captain replied. "From the farkin look of ya I'd guess some killin was done." he added almost immediately, now taking in the sight of the man covered in the telltale blood stains of battle. Letting the air of mystery permeate the space between a little longer, Entheo finally answered. "They're dead, the ones who killed your men. Those savages and knaves who were operating the fighting pits." A look of confusion mixed with respect washed over the features of the captain. "That so huh? Well if it that be true and assuming you're the one to do the deed then I might owe you a debt of gratitude." The captain motioned to one of the men nearby, a lithe quick looking fellow with several daggers on his person, and pointed back towards the door and the man ran off without a word. "We'll know soon enough."

"So it seems what you said is true according to my men. So what then could I do for you? You must understand losing many of my men and our employer has cost us dearly, it will take time to rebuild our company. If its money you want I'm afraid I can't pay you for this service, though I never asked for it." The captain gave Entheo a leveled flat stare with those last few words before relaxing again into his usual posture. "Its not your coin I want, but your connections." The captain cocked his head at that, caught off guard. "Explain, go on." "I've only recently arrived in Sarshel and I intend to stay a while, maybe permanently, though life is difficult for an old sellsword like me in a new place. I'm sure you understand, and to tell you the truth I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I'm getting older now, and I'm not as quick or strong as I once was. If I don't want to end up some nameless headstone in a field somewhere or bones in a monsters lair, I need to elevate myself. I'm sure a man such as yourself rubs elbows with those in higher positions from time to time. It would make my life a lot easier if they knew who I was. Perhaps I could be useful to them, where they might otherwise use your services." Entheo felt better saying the words out loud, they had been echoing around in his mind for quite some time. He knew he needed to leave the adventurers life behind one day but he wasn't there yet. Still saying the words to another brought a measure of relief to him then and there. The captain let the mans words wash over and through him, he thought hard for a long moment before finally nodding. "Aye, well enough then. I'll do what I can but first I need to know yer name." "My name is" he answered firmly, holding his head just a little higher, "Entheo Genesthe."
Last edited by Entheogen on Tue Feb 25, 2020 12:48 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Entheo Genesthe - Sellsword, Explorer, Adventurer
Umbra - Thief, Scout-Informant, Assassin

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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Kilaana » Mon Feb 24, 2020 2:43 pm

Late afternoon finds the swarthy adventurer half-deep in his cups amidst a hearty meal, courtesy of a hard-earned victory from only those whose faces linger in shadow deep in Sarshel's underbelly. A pleasant tune rings throughout The Kingfisher - the youthful raw voice of a young minstrel and his lute - of summer's love and winter's betrayal. The tavern is especially popular among the merchant classes and nouveau-riche of Impiltur, its proximity to the docks lend an easy hand in trade dealings that form the economic backbone of the jewel of the Easting Reach. Long after nightfall, one can expect to wine and dine at almost any hour at the Kingfisher. Tonight would not be especially different, for the kitchen boys had been set to work bringing out extra tables for anticipated guests.

Left alone in a corner that offered good vantage of the place, it is therefore a surprise when next Entheo lifts his gaze from his plate, he finds himself quite suddenly in the company of an exceedingly well-dressed man in the smart, shocking colours of black velvet and yellow silks. He runs a pale, long-fingered hand through a crop of dark wavy hair, and offers Entheo a dazzling smile. A few feet away, a thin boy of about sixteen summers fidgets nervously on the spot, looking toward his master.

"You've made quite a name for yourself, haven't you." The man's voice holds an almost effeminate lilt, light and playfully conspirational. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I know who you are. But you - you can call me Leonnick." He snaps his fingers at the boy, who hurriedly produces two wineglasses and proceeds to pour Entheo and his master a drink.

The man raises his glass in a toast. "I usually don't like surprises myself, but today, we shall celebrate. To you, and our great partnership to come. What say you?"
“Violence is the mark of the amateur.” ― Garrett, Thief: The Dark Project

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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Tue Feb 25, 2020 1:15 pm

Reeling in his surprise, Entheo managed to recover his composure while offering a quick deep nod in greeting. Who was this man he wondered to himself. Taking the cue he lifted the matching wineglass and mirrored the motion raising it in a toast. Swallowing the last bits of food in his mouth, "To our partnership?" he asked as much as stated. His mind was racing, had he seen this man somewhere else before? Attempting to survey the room for potential trouble out of old habit, looking for hidden guards or anyone else watching him too closely without making it obvious to his immediate company, he made himself clear his throat and cough. Turning in his seat with his face into his shoulder as to appear polite as he coughed several times his eyes quickly darted across those in the immediate vicinity before a second scan eyed those in the distance and the exit. "Ahem, apologies, Leonnick. You were saying? Ahh yes, surprises... and would you care to tell me more?"
Entheo Genesthe - Sellsword, Explorer, Adventurer
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Kilaana » Tue Feb 25, 2020 2:57 pm

Leonnick watches the surprise registering on Entheo's face, as it then gives way to guarded suspicion. If there was an ambush, it was not abundantly clear - it seemed everyone was interested in everything but the table in the corner. Wineglass dangling from between sapphire-ringed fingers, the younger man leans back and crosses a leg over the other, smiling.

"Why not? For the man who's not only done away with three of my best men, but also one of the best barkeeps this side of the Reach." Leonnick takes a sip from his cup, throwing Entheo a petulant look. "Do you realize how monumental a task is to hire someone who knows one wine from the next? I daresay you owe me a favour in recompense for my losses."

He continues with an exaggerated sigh: "Men are replaceable... Oh, I mean that in the best way. But a good bladehand is hard to find. If it's money you're after, there is plenty." Leonnick flicks his fingers at the boy, who comes forward hastily to refill the cups.

"But let's start with how well you know your way around town, hm?" Leonnick reaches into the lapel of his coat, withdrawing something hung on a short chain - a gilded silver frame that opened to reveal a painted portrait of a girl with the archetypal beauty of a blonde and blue-eyed maiden. Such portraits were very fashionable to have among the wealthy in Impiltur. This he slides across the table to Entheo with a careless gesture. "That is my sister you're looking at. Arabella. Now that dear Father is gone, I have been put in charge of her welfare. Frankly, I have no such time! Alas, such has the burden of the family business befallen to me.

Leonnick uncrosses his legs, leaning forward with a charming smile. "I have promised Arabella a trip to the King's Gardens in Filur, but I do not have the taste for the great outdoors. Pity, I hear that the Labyrinth is quite a sight to behold, now that Spring is almost here. If you shall escort her, my family will see that you are duly rewarded."
“Violence is the mark of the amateur.” ― Garrett, Thief: The Dark Project

Kallian | Delorwyn Lle'quellas | Wilhemina Alencar | Zalika Maszim Zartusht
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Entheogen
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Tue Feb 25, 2020 8:14 pm

His tone changed then, realizing with whom he was speaking, taking on a certain gravity. "Oh." The simple reply reverberated with the weight of many simultaneous realizations. This was the proprietor of the fighting pits, those were his men he had killed. From his opulent wealth he was indeed a man with power, a dangerous man given his disposition. He liked not the look of him, though after the initial bewilderment was covered up Entheo maintained a truly disinterested look. Truly, because he truly did not want to work for this man. Leonnick reminded him too much of the seedy merchant lords in his home country of Sembia types that he was all too familiar with. Men corrupted by lives of extravagance, the sons of rich merchants and nobility. The kind of men who gave in to their darkest ambitions, having tasted from the cups of everything else and grown long since bored. The same types of men that had driven him away in the first place, to a place like Impiltur. Though the largely unmapped and unexplored wilderness rich with many ruins was also a factor which pulled him here as was its proximity. But that was a thought for another time. No he did not like this man he realized, and he glanced down at locket.

Ahh but there was a beautiful woman and in that moment he decided he would like to meet her in person. Arabella, did she have a beautiful mind as well or was she like her brother? The thought was fleeting and then it was gone altogether. His mind returned to the moment at hand just as Leonnick had finished speaking. Entheo sipped his wine, but damn this was good wine he recognized and it aided him in formulating the image of the family to which Leonnick must belong. To drink such wine and with a servant to pour it even in a place such as this, spoke of great wealth. "It is an acquired taste, the outdoors." Entheo replied nonchalantly making no indication as to his interest. "As to the trouble with your men, you have my condolences. I did not know quality bartenders were in such short supply in Sarshel."

Glancing down at the locket again, he studied the painted face. "To Filur you say? I admit I have not been. If I understand correctly it lies to the south along the royal road. I cannot in good confidence take a woman to whom I am to escort and protect along a road that I do not know. Allow me to travel in the morning to Filur and upon arriving stay one night and return to Sarshel. When I return I will inform you, no doubt one as illustrious as yourself will already know. At which point I will be prepared to escort your sister at your leisure. Does this sound acceptable?"
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Entheogen » Mon Mar 02, 2020 9:49 pm

The next day the first rays of morning light creep through the window of the Inn, Saylidi's. Drapped in silky covers and surrounded in lush pillows, Entheo's subconscious mind argues to no avail for him to stay in bed a little longer. His waking mind however knows that he needs to get up now if he is going to make good ground on the ride south. Begrudgingly he dons his armor, first the padding then the plates. Picking up his tower shield, and strapping the long-sword firmly to his belt he heads down the stairs for the exit. On the way out one of the servants offers him a quick bite to eat, and Entheo has him wrap some to go in cheese cloth as well for the journey ahead.

Outside the gate, he strolls down the road which brings him to the stables. Speaking with the horse trainer he secures a horse for the ride to Filur and back for just two Halanth. Saddling his white mare he sets off at a gentle gallop, unused to riding in quite some time. Thankfully the connecting road from Sarshel to the Royal Road is an easy one, well traveled between those coming and going from the port city. After a short time it joined the well established trade route, the Royal Road, and he turns south.
As the road winds through the spare forest hardly a sound is heard through the morning and early afternoon, besides the occasional rushing water in the distance off towards the towering Earthspur mountains and the hills before them. Around mid day he approaches a camp, with some traders and their wagons pulled in a circle, a man with a crossbow stand on top of one of the wagons and Entheo waves a friendly greeting, waiting for the man to respond in kind before approaching. "Might I sit with you a while and enjoy my lunch, my journey takes me south to Filur and if you've come from that way perhaps you could offer knowledge of any dangers ahead?" Entheo calls out to the wagon guard as he draws near. "Aye certainly traveler, come and sit by our fire and warm your feet and food and we'll talk." The cordial response comes. As he relaxes at the fire, with his plated boots off and his food warming on a stone near the fire Entheo learns from the conversation two things. First that there is a band of bugbears operating out of some hills nearby. Though from the sounds of it they are some way off the main road but still a large enough force and roaming just enough to cause issues with the trade caravans along the Royal Road. The second thing he learns is the road south is closed due to flooding and there in a merchants detour going into the wilderness a short ways, a rough section and more dangerous but a short detour in all. When his meal is finished and the exchange of words complete, he thanks the small caravan and takes to the saddle once more, the horse more rested and used to the weight now picked up pace into a casual trot in the fading light of an evening sun.

Not much time passes before he approached a small homestead, he recalled seeing something scratched into a sign some miles back. "Whitmore?" He asked to himself. Indeed it was so, a small collection of homes and hovels around halfway to Filur. Asking about he inquired as to a room for the night, and was met with no success. Muttering his thanks he let the locals know he would be camping nearby for the night and setup a campfire not far from the homesteads. It was a cold and miserable night out in the open, huddled on the ground near the fire. He slept in his armor expecting trouble out here on the frontier, but none came. Unable to rest any longer, he took the reigns and walked the horse for a time south out of the homestead. When the first signs of marshland appeared he decided to saddle once more and rode on until he found the flooded section of the Royal Road and the detour the caravan spoke of. Carefully he picked his way along the detour, the water was deep even in some place here from the recent rains no doubt. He mouthed an unheard thanks as he thought about the clear skies he had for this trip and hoped the weather would hold out until he next traveled this way with the lady in tow.
Traveling through the wild now he was even more attentive and in the distance there were the occasional howl of wolves, and once he thought he heard something else, a screech perhaps? Yet nothing came and after getting turned around once or twice briefly he managed to find the main road once more. From there it was an easy ride into Filur. Approaching the outskirts he could make out several watch towers among the towering windmill, each with a guard posted atop. A well defended village he decided, and wondered more than once how great this piece of civilization once was, when the ruins that dotted the edges of the village were intact and new. It was obvious that this place was in a time long passed an important hub of travel between Sarshel and Hlammach or Lyrabar to the south. Securing a room at the local Inn, he had his horse fed and cared for, exchanging the copper he asked the stable boy if there were any rumors or troubles in the area he should know of. The rest of the day was spent walking through the town, and exploring the grounds of the once great estate nearby, and much of the estate's gardens which he presumed were the reason for this trip. There was a hill not far from one end of the gardens which he made a note to avoid. Passing by there he thought he glimpsed a skeletal figure shambling past, but when he looked again there was nothing. "Nothing good coming from there." He muttered gruffly. "Best just avoid it."

Back at the inn that evening, he had several drinks which he found to be more to his liking than what was being served in Sarshel. After which he retired to his room, a plain room not lavish like the room he enjoyed at Sayildi's but comfortable enough for a good sleep. In the morning he awoke to the quiet din of conversation below rusting him from his sleep. Purchasing extra food for the trip back to Sarshel he set out shortly after first light, falling in line with another caravan heading north. The larger force was aware of the sell-sword's presence but they exchanged no conversation, instead riding through that day and the next in silence. Most caravans like these welcomed a well-armed rider such as Entheo with open arms for such a figure was highly dissuasive to attackers. Whether that proved to be the case and the attackers lie in wait still or if there was never any to begin with was never known as he arrived back in Sarshel the next day with nary a trouble on the road. The stable master greeted him as he returned the horse and they exchanged short talk of the road, Entheo promised to be returning soon to make a purchase of one his fine stock.

After which he walked back through the gates of Sarshel to be greeted by Aubre the adventurous young clergy woman of the Triad which he had met some days back in Outentown. They had traveled together then exploring the area and searching for a lost adventurer. She was a capable fighter if a little inexperienced, but also a potent healer and he enjoyed her company. She was knowledgable of the nearby lands and always seemed eager to share such information. They exchanged words and she explained a few troubling rumors that were circulating about bandits in the forests nearby and whispers of a group moving through the canals beneath the streets of the city. Knowing her to be well informed and sensing there was much needed coin to be made he agreed to assist her for the day. Entheo resupplied and left word at the dockside taverns that he had returned so the information would find its way into the correct hands of his soon to be employer Leonnick and set out for the day with Aubre. Drawn to whatever invisible force it is that makes adventurers seek the unknown...
Entheo Genesthe - Sellsword, Explorer, Adventurer
Umbra - Thief, Scout-Informant, Assassin

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Kilaana
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Re: The Chronicles of Entheo: A Rise To Power

Postby Kilaana » Wed Mar 04, 2020 3:34 pm

Two days later, Entheo would find himself crossing the marshlands again, this time in the luxury of a well-padded carriage drawn by a coachman, a footman and two decorated black horses.

Across from him sat the Lady Arabella, who was even more lovely than her miniature counterpart - were it not for the sullen scowl wrought across her face. She sat haughtily with a lace fan on her lap, dressed in a gown of light silk beneath a high-collared velvet coat that ended at her ankles. She appeared to be making no effort to hide disdain for her erstwhile bodyguard. Beside her was Cara, who looked no more than a few years older, in the plain clothes of a lady's companion. The two had begun the trip gossiping excitedly about their hosts in Filur, but as the journey wore on and the stink of the marshes became evident, neither felt like talking and Arabella, for want of anything better to do, fell to asking impertinent questions about Entheo himself.

"Where are you from exactly?" She would inquire in a tone that held more scornful judgement than curiousity. "...Are you married? You had better keep that sword out of my way." She eyed Entheo with a pout. Then: "It's just disgraceful that my brother didn't think to lend you something more suitable to wear. You should stay twenty feet away from me when we are in Filur - or perhaps the next room over? Really, what's gotten into Leonnick? ...I certainly do not need someone who looks old enough to be my grandfather to be following me from morning till night. Isn't that right, Cara?" To which the older woman nodded, tight-lipped.

As the carriage prepared to cross a bridge spanning twin banks laden heavy with lowland rushes, the coachman gave a startled shout. The carriage came to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing its passengers off their seats. Urgent rapping sounded on the door twice, and before anyone could respond, the footman had yanked it open, pale-faced.

"M'lady, there's a-"

The footman's words died in a wide streak of scarlet that sprayed across the side of the carriage. Some of it fell through the open doorway, spattering droplets on Arabella's gown and Entheo's boots. There was a dull thud as the decapitated body rolled off the carriage step, followed by an unearthly, guttural shriek that tore across the cloudless sky. The carriage rocked violently once more as something strong and heavy collided with it, then it began to drag along the bridge by frantic, crippled horses as the air filled with horrified cries from the coachman, armed with only a shortblade and an unlit lantern. The man, to his credit, lasted only a moment longer than his compatriot as the strange lizardlike beast made a meal of first his sword arm, then his face.

A heartbeat later, it turned feral, hungry eyes towards the carriage's open door.

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