No Game this Friday which makes me sad, but I do have a game tomorrow. So instead of a game report for tonight, here is a Character portrait for my Pathfinder Character Zeek.....
I stand at the pass of Ữterben, it is a well known pass small and easily defended by two men for as long as they can stay awake. My father and me were the last of the Guards of Ữterben. Two men defending the weakness of the land, truth of the matter is one man can hold back the tide as long as he works hard, and I have since my fathers passing.
Today is my fifth anniversary as the last bastion of hope, last of the Ữterben Guard. I do as always sit and watch when a small decrepit man stumbled round the bend in the pass. I grab my staff and ready my weapons.
‘Halt!’ I shout first in Nallan then again in Findull but he dose not respond, lastly in my native tongue Ữterben.
The old man stops looks at me then says, ‘You, are you-‘ He pauses then pulls out a small scrap of paper. ‘Guardian of Ữterben Pass?’
‘That,’ I replied ‘Was my father but he dead now.’
The old man nodded and looked around, ‘Are there any other Guardian’s?’
‘I am-‘ I falter and the old man takes this as a statement.
‘Then this is for you.’ He starts to walk forward.
‘That’s far enough.’ I say. Father taught me to be cautious. ‘Leave what you have over by the nook there and back away.’
The old man nodded once and complied. He started talking as he backed away, ‘I found it on a dead man. He’d been dead for some time. It could help but feel it was important.’
He stopped as I reached the nook almost as if it was in anticipation.
‘I didn’t open it.’ He said.
It was a yellowing letter crumpled at one and burnt a little on the top right corner. It had the Royal seal pushed in wax with a tattered blue ribbon hanging down. I had see only on missive like this when I was a boy. A messenger had brought it, that was over thirty years ago.
I open the letter, it was in the old script. I read the now brown ink and dropped the paper.
‘What does it say?’ The old man could not contain his excitement.
I turned my back on him and walked back to the guard hut to collect my possessions. I could hear the old man shuffling quickly to grab and read the letter. ‘Leave it old man.’ I said, ‘Unless you can read Ữterben Cipher.’
‘No,’ he said the disappointment was plain in his voice.
I didn’t look back but ask my question as I walked in the hut. ‘How old was the corpse you took this from?’
‘It was no corpse,’ He replied, his shuffling steps coming closer. ‘It were bones I found.’
I nodded to myself, ‘Fifteen years almost to the day the King disbanded the Ữterben Guard.’ I grabbed my pack and stuffed my meagre belonging into it.
‘Then you are free?’ The old man framed the door.
‘I am.’ Taking one last look at what was my home, I turned to the old man and look at him.
‘I was hoping for a reward?’
I looked at the old man, ‘Take whatever you want.’
He let me pass.