Category: RPG

Daggerdale

10th day, 1st ride, March, 1372 DR

I finally reached Daggerdale, and I have a room at the Teshford Arms, just outside the city, across the river. It’s run by a woman called Olavia, who charges a ridiculous one gold piece per day. Abaddon give me strength!

I talked to a Sembian called Roland, and a Cormyrian sorceror named Abel, they are new in town as well. The three of us are going to find work at the garisson tomorrow.

Age

9th day, 3rd ride, March, 1372 DR

The other day we had a small discussion about age, while on the road. It became quite obvious to me that both Roland as well as Abel thought me far older than I really am. I was born in the Year of the Boot, 1343 DR, making me almost 29 years old today. They both thought me old, pushing my fourth decade. I lied to them and told them I was thirty-six. The weather in my country isn’t as fair as it is in theirs, nor have they lived in such troubling times, with war and famine and the undead walking the land, at the call of a terrible foe. I must not judge them.

By a Bare Thread

8th day, 3rd ride, March, 1372 DR

Nice, stormy weather rolled in after mid-night. Up until then it was quiet and uneventful. Abel still wasn’t talking much.

After a couple of hours Roland started to lag behind again. Abel was completely unresponsive and I had to act fast. I tried to get Roland to catch up but I saw his strength was spent. I knew then that I was ready. I offered up a prayer, out loud, for help, asking Abaddon to strengthen my companion. Surprisingly enough, Roland straightened his back, quickened his step, regained his composure and even offered thanks to Abaddon.

When the sun came up we moved off the road and both Abel and Roland collapsed. I covered them with their blankets, barely enough strength of my own to manage that, but there was no choice but to take watch. I wasn’t certain that I’d stay awake through all of this, so I took to an old trick I learnt from the Dwarves in Ironspur; stucking a dagger into your thigh.

After a few hours Abel woke me, I think. It’s all vague, I just remember him guiding me for God knows how long to a lovely fire. I think Roland was there, too. I was so damned tired. Abaddon give me strength!

I woke up in the late afternoon to the smell of a nice herbal soup. Not exactly filling, but at least it was warm enough to thaw out my limbs. Roland went to sleep after telling me Abel wanted to take a day of rest. I didn’t agree; every day we spend out here is one where we’ll lose energy and resolve, even if we do spend a day in rest we’ll be more tired by the end of it. At dusk, I woke them both with soup. Ten minutes later we were on the road again. I was very impressed by them. Hell, I was very impressed by myself, too.

Fatigue Setting In

7th day, 3rd ride, March, 1372 DR

We made camp during the day, which was hard on Abel because he’s not used to sleeping during the day. I was forced to wake both of them up as Zandos and his bird were circling our position. After a few minutes his scouting routine moved away to the north. In the lull of his circling we moved further west for ten or twenty minutes. I am unsure whether or not he knows where we are. It might as well be that he’s trying to keep us pinned down, and afraid to move. Perhaps he’s just stalling us, not sure where we are.

We decided to continue our journey for another two hours, deciding on another four or five ours of rest after that, so that we were a bit more rested when night would fall. Roland looked a lot better than yesterday, but with his measly two hours of sleep, Abel didn’t speak much.

We made camp again. Abel didn’t do much except fall to the ground and fall asleep. We made a small fire to cook some water and warm up some left-overs. I filled a waterskin with the hot water and shoved it up against Abel’s still sleeping body, afterwards covering him with his blanket. Roland and I had the food. It seemed like a fair trade between Abel and us.

After four hours, at nightfall, Roland woke us up and prepared some quick soup to get us started. It wasn’t much, more like warm water with some chunks of soggy bread and some spices, but it did the trick. We cleaned up and made our way along the river.

A Change of Routine

6th day, 3rd ride, March, 1372 DR

The night was uneventful with the exception of four horsemen coming from the Flaming Tower. Roland was on the verge of collapse so we let him sleep some before the horsemen arrived. We decided to change our routine and sleep during the day and walk during the night. It was getting to be quite cold, so walking during the cold and resting during the warmth seemed logical, also, this way we hoped we’d go largely undetected. We didn’t want to make Zandos’ task too easy for him. When we left camp and continued on our trail we encountered the horsemen again, this time heading back towards the tower. A little further up ahead we found their abadonned camp.

Late at night we spotted an Orc camp along the river. Roughly six Orcs by Roland’s guess, too many for us to handle, so we moved into the woods and passed the camp carefully.

Seeing the horsemen got me thinking; I love horses. I have always dreamt of owning a horse…riding a horse…grooming a horse. Before the war Damarans were well known for their horse-riding. Perhaps not quite as formidable as the Riders of Narfell, but Damarans have always had a close bond with horses…it’s been in our blood for countless generations, and though I’ve never owned or ridden a horse, I feel a nostalgic longing, perhaps a sense of national pride, and I would like to purchase a horse, soon. I want to learn how to ride.

During the war all healthy horses were used for war, and all the old ones were used to flee, and later for food. In the beginning of the war you’d see officers riding horses across the battle-field, and even whole charging units of riders. Near the end of the war, and for years afterwards, horses were scarce, and only the richest or most formidable warriors were able to afford them.

I promise this to myself and to Abaddon, that the next time I see Damara and my beloved Steppenhal, I will be on horseback.