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Noir

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  1. It all began two days ago, at The Crossing. It was a typical day at the Boar's Run Tavern with some patrons catching a midday meal and others simply relaxed and enjoyed the fine beers offered by the dwarven propriators while one of the half-elven girls sang. Good spirits, aided by the good beer and plentiful food made it quite a enjoyable atmopshere, as was common for the establishment. A young man and woman had entered the tavern and stood out, as they were not regulars. They were dressed simply and both looked to be under twenty years of age and both showed a hint of fatigue. They pair addressed the room and asked for help, explaining their village was in need. People had gone missing and they feared some terrible creature had taken up resident in the nearby shelter. They were upfront that they had little to offer as payment, other than a bed, homecooked meals and the gratitude of their village. Five rose to answer their call, each for their own reasons. After a small bit of discussion and some gathering of supplies the temple of Bahamut offered, the party set out for the village that day. Along the way the pair explained some more of what happened, that Toral, their Wizard, had not been seen in days. He lived in the shelter still, seeing as a safer place to conduct his experiments and he enjoyed the quiet for his research. One of the village women, who was a bit sweet on Toral, went into the shelter to bring him a fresh cooked meal. She was know to do that, lets Toral get to caught up in his work that he would forget to eat. She, and her two children, went into the shelter, but never returned. That was when fear began to spread among the village and they sent Arturs and Meghan to The Crossing for help. They knew it was a dangerous trip for the pair to make, but armed with a shortsword and dagger, and Arturs' magic (since he was an apprentice wizard), the pair successfully made the trip. Arturs and Meghan, explained that they had done their best to follow a seldom used trail from their village to The Crossing. They had lost, and again found, the trail many times on their journey, but had arrived safely in The Crossing. With their guidance, and the keen eyes and skills of the others, they arrived back at the village by dusk of the second day, and were greeted by the village and its elders. Alrid, the head elder, led you to the Village Hall, where they had strung a curtain along the back wall and brought in beds and trucks, making temporary quarters, while the rest of the hall was being re-arranged, with the tables in a rough U-shape for the dinner and celebration tonight, thanking those who had come to their aid. Afterward they would speak of more serious matters, but for now, Alrid expressed that the village needed this release and hope. That night the village gather in the hall for the meal, with many of them bringing various prepared dishes. By the look of it, the food was rustic, but hearty and fairly plentiful, even for this gathering; red meats, fowl, fish, savory meat pies, stew, all manner (mostly root) of vegetables and many breads and baked goods, including fruit cobblers. Water, fresh juice and even ale is offered as well, a dwarven stout ale by the look, smell and taste of it. In the enclosed area between the tables small performances take place throughout the night, from simple comedic skits to music and/or dancing, making for a fairly joyous, relaxed atmosphere. As the meal began to wind down the singing, dancing and skits turn into storytelling. They tell the story of their village and how it was once a small town of humans and a few elves and half-elves, though not a sign of the town remains. They prepared their shelter with the help of a group of druids, shaping rock, bringing forth springs and starting the growth of food and such while two wizards prepared the wards. With the shelter prepared the townsfolk waited as long as they could to enter it, and just as they were about to, three more arrived; a pair of orcs who had lost their tribe to a Horror and promised to cooperate and coexist peacefully within the shelter, and a lone male dwarf, a roguish bard named Ardis Softnote. According to the story, he made a name for himself battling Horrors in the last days before the shelters were sealed, and found himself in Jarendale as they were entering their shelter. With time growing short, Ardis asked and was accepted into the shelter. As the townsfolk, Orcs and dwarf entered the shelter, it is said that a Horror found it and attacked, with Ardis fighting it off, wounding it and causing it to withdraw as he and the other fled into the shelter, sealing the doors, empowering the wards and setting traps behind them. Life was not easy within the shelter, but in time, people settled into patterns and made do. They had fresh spring water to drink and water the various crops, most types of fungi that grew on the walls. They had some animal pens to raise them for the slaughter as well as a small fishery. Food was prepared in a large kitchen and meals were taken communally. And with Ardis’ encouragement, space was made for a small brewery where he taught the inhabitants to craft fine dwarven stout (or at least a close proximity given the limited supplies to work with). Curious about how the wizard fits in to the story of the village, Rhosh seeks out Arturs to fill in the missing pieces away from the gathering to not dampen the mood. "Arturs, the story of your village is pretty impressive, but there doesn't seem to be any mention of the wizard. Who is he, and how does he fit in?" the Dragonborn asked. "Well, I am told we started with two wizards. They set the wards and provided other magical assistance than an isolated shelter might need, from healing to fixing things and so on. I am sure you know the utility of a wizard. They each tried to take an apprentice if enough children showed aptitude, so that their knowledge could be passed on and the ward maintained. Over time, there was only one wizard, as often only one child might show aptitude, with Toral being the last one trained within the shelter. He did not have an apprentice until just before we exited the shelter. That was when he found me. and began my instruction. He.. I don't know.. he always seemed.. eager, I guess, for me to learn , when he was not obsessed with some experiment or something, locking himself away in his study. I suppose he feared passing before he could teach me much, and then the village would be left without the magical aid he provided." Arturs answered. The meal went on for a couple of hours, though it was more than a meal, granting the villagers a much needed chance to vent. That is not to say that they were carefree now, but at least they had some solid hope now as they looked at the four brave souls that answered their call for help. Rhosh certain got his share of looks. Not is a bad way, but more of just curiosity at the races they had never seen before. The villagers were very accepting though, and certain made them all feel welcomed. Krusk’s armor also drew attention, being the only full suit that most had ever seen. There did not seem to be much metal around the village, and where there was tended to be in the shape of tool heads and nails, so seeing a full suit of armor was unusual and a bit fascinating for them. The meal ended and the villagers returned to their homes, tidying up a bit, but leaving the majority of the cleanup for the morning. When they had departed only Alrid, Arturs and Meghan remained in the hall with you, gathered around your table while Meghan walked around, gathering up whole pieces of fruit. Alrid took a drink of his cup of ale, sat it down on the table and sighed. “Again, thank you all for coming to our aid. We are not sure what is happening, but I will tell you what we know.” The older man said, looking at each of you, one by one. “We opened the shelter over a year ago, and began building this village and preparing the land while still living within the shelter. I think we all needed time to get used to living outside again, so it permitted us that. In time, we moved out of the shelter and into the village, though Toral, the wizard, tended to stay in his quarters in the shelter where he could do his studies and experiment is relative safety. Toral would often get too focused on his work, and he would forget to eat, and even sleep. Mari would often bring him food and make sure he would eat. After her husband passed just before we left the shelter, she had taken an interest in him, and he seemed to return it. Several days ago, Toral had been inside the shelter for some time, and so Mari went to bring him some lunch. She would often bring her children with her, and let them play in the shelter while she visited with Toral, and this day was no different. The next morning, she was not seen tending to her chores, which was unusual. We checked her home, and neither she nor her children were there. So Leode, a fellow elder, went into the shelter to look for her and ask Toral if he had seen her. Leode never returned. Jared and went in with a few more villagers, to look for Leode and see what happened. Only Jared made it back out. He was terrified and babbling incomprehensibly. His mind was… gone. We were not sure what was happening, but it was clear we could not handle it. So we send Arturs and Meghan, the most capable of the young people of the village, to fetch help, so that the rest of the men could remain to guard us. I or some of the elder would have went along, but we would have only slowed them down. Toral has not been seen in days, and Mari, Leode and the others who have not returned only a day or two less so. We have not dared to set foot in the shelter since. We have barred and locked our doors at night, afraid of what was happening, and sometimes, in the morning, we find scratches on our doors and shutters. Please. We do not know what is happening, or what may rest inside the shelter, but please liberate us from this fear… this evil.” Alrid pleads. OOC note:
  2. Arturs reached into his satchel and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. He unrolled it and set it on the table, using utensils to hold down the edges. "This is a map I drew this morning of the shelter. It's not perfect, by any means, as I am no map maker, but it should give an idea of the layout." Arturs said as he showed the map to the others. OOC: His map does not have numbered areas. The numbers are for our use to explain what room is being talked about. Click map for larger view.
  3. Shelter_Map.jpg

    From the album D&D 5e: A New Age

  4. D&D 5e: A New Age

  5. "Any enchantment can be broken." Arturs said simply. "These sigils have told us more though. We thought some beast or creature had moved into the shelter. But these marks mean that it is something, or someone, capable of casting magic. That is valuable information." Arturs continued as he cut a slice of sausage and then caught Dread's look and added, "Um.. or.. uh.. so I would think."
  6. Krusk examined the mark, but for all of his religious studies and training at the temple, the mark did not belong to any god, pantheon or religion that he knew of. Granted, over the generations in the shelters some god fell out of favor, and some nearly lost to the sand of time, while others were discovered or grew in popularity. If the symbol belonged to some lost god, he would likely never know. As Krsuk examined the marks, so did Arturs, who performed a ritual to conserve his limited arcane power. When completed he examined the marks too, and the homes. "I do not believe there is a trigger. The homes are enchanted... cursed, from what the others said. At this point, I do not believe altering or even removing the marks would do anything. The enchantment is set. I looks like that is what was already done, like the curse was set and then the scratches added to disguise it, I would think. I certainly did not notice the symbol among the scratches until it was pointed out. That would imply a level of.. I don't know.. planning? Insidiousness?" the young apprentice explained as he held the torch close to the door, further examining the markings. "I do not like this. We though some beast or such had moved into the shelter, but this... this is all together different." he said, shaking his head and resting his hand on his belt, near his dagger. The half-elves turned in, leaving Krusk and Arturs to stand their watch. The rest of the night was quiet and calm, even peaceful were it not for the lingering feeling of anticipation and the unknown. In time the sky begins to lighten and one by one homes begin to open. Some of the villagers set about their chores, though with a bit of caution in these pre-dawn time, while others end up sleeping in, having drank or feasted too much the night prior. Eventually dawn arrives and the sounds of a few roosters and other livestock begins to intermingle with the metallic strikes from the blacksmithy and the sounds of sawing and woodcutting. The villagers do not disturb those still sleeping within the village hall, and instead set up a table outside of it, and bring food for Krusk and Arturs and the rest when they awaken.
  7. Arturs listened to Eon and then nodded to the half-elves, considering what he had just said. Krusk's question was a slight surprise to the young wizard, rousing him from his train of thought about the scratches, but he nodded and answered at the half-orc looked about, scanning the village for threats or anything unusual. "The tomb is two chambers. The outer chamber has Ardis Softnote's story inscribed on the walls, in stone. It is where we all learned his story growing up. The inner chamber is where his body was laid to rest, inside a stone coffin. One of my duties as Toral's apprentice was to open the tomb on holidays, so that people could go in, recount his story, and even pay their respects at his coffin." he explained and thought a little. "I cannot say I have ever heard of strange goings on there or any sorting of haunting or presence. For us, the tomb was a place to celebrate his life and recall his story. According to the stories, he was a rather jolly fellow around the shelter, his songs and stories are many which we still tell today. I think they helped the first generation in the shelter a great deal, to be honest."
  8. Do They?

    Nope. It is RP that makes the game fun. Some feel that stuff like powers make it more interesting, and that is true, but really powers and such just make it more interesting more easily. And granted, gaming is an escape for people generally, so they usually want to play something different from themselves or their everyday lives. A good/fun game is about characters, story, RP, challenge and so on. A good example of that is AWS. Some of the most fun I have had in that game was just all of us RP as teenagers and NOT using our powers. I like the super powered teens combating the invading alien army too, but the biggest laughs and such were from just RPing teens.
  9. The rest of the watch for the half-elves was quiet outside. The night was cool though, and rather pleasant were it not for the uncertainty and anticipation. In time, Arturs awoke to find Krusk already done with his daily meditations and prayers, and donning his armor once more. Arturs looked around and gestured at his boots, hitting them with a prestidigitation cantrip to warm them before he slipped them on with a relaxed sigh. He slipped on his tunic and belt, tucking his dagger into it and lipped past the curtain to the tables, where he found an apple and took a bite. Krusk and Arturs stepped outside and found the pair of half-elves talking a little. "Looks like it is our turn." he said to the pair as he glanced around, resting a hand on his belt, near his dagger, trying to push down his fear.
  10. The pair of half-elves, splitting the difference between their duty as the watch and their curiosity, decided to circle the village hall, inspecting the homes with Shayuri's magically enhanced perception. Each home was not enchanted, but many were, easily over half by Shayuri's estimation, all bearing the same crude symbol. Why somebody or something would wish to curse the homes of this small village with nightmares, or worse, was still unknown.
  11. Ten minutes pass as Shayuri performs her ritual, drawing on her wizardly training in youth to aid her. When she finally finished the incantation, she looks upon the door with her yellow-gold eyes and she could see the faint aura of magic radiating from the markings, not just in the middle of the door, but on the shutters as well, enchanting the entire home. Still curious, she glanced at the homes on either side of the Alrid's, and she could see a faint aura around those dwellings as well...
  12. The half-elves stood before the door, examining the scratches and the crude symbol they formed. They both thought back to the books, stories and song they had heard, as well as the various languages they could read and write. The scratches formed a single, crudely drawn symbol, but it was no letter or word that either knew, nor a marking of a god or any nation they hard heard of. The pair could see things in the symbol, certain marks and accents that hinted at an arcane nature, an enchantment, suggesting the symbol was a ward of some sort. No. Not a ward, but a sigil, one that would be used in placing some sort of hex. The exact nature of the hex, Shayuri was uncertain of, but the symbol tugged at a memory for Eon. The bard thought back to his training on the streets of The Crossing, both as a bard and a thief, learning the concealed messages that thieves would leave for one another, often appearing to be random scratches or meaningless markings to the uninitiated. This mark was not a symbol of the Thieves' Cant, but it was one that he had been shown, and told was a curse, so it best to avoid a structure marked with it. That warning had made the young half-elf curious, and when he asked his mentor about it, the older bard knew why. It was a curse, one that imbued nightmares, wearing on and weakening the mind of those affected, and possibly even bringing insanity in time. The symbol was crudely drawn though, leaving both of the half-elves uncertain if it even could focus magic enough in order to place and hold an enchantment.
  13. Dread did his best to stifle his irritation while Rhosh watched the shelter closely. In time the pair went inside and awoke the half-elves before finding their own beds to sleep for the rest of the night. Just as before, the night was cool, calm and quiet, almost unnaturally so, and Eon, with some effort, scrambled onto the roof of the village hall for a better view, while Shayuri alternated between standing and meandering around the hall. With the light of the moon, the village was well-lit for the half-elves, especially the structures nearest them, such as Alrid's home, across the way. Eon watched the shelter, but not exclusively so, taking a look all the around the village from his vantage point from time to time. The villagers assumed that something was coming from the shelter at night, but the bard was not so eager to blindly follow their assumption. Still though, little moved or made noise through the village and around it. The near total silence was unnerving, as if anything else knew to be quiet and lay low. Noting the scratches on Alrid's door, Shayuri could not help but walk across the dirt street to it for a better look. The scratches did appear to more scratches than claw marks, shallow and somewhat broad. The marks were around the door latch and the edges of shutters, as if something was making some attempt to enter the home, while the rest of the marks were higher on the door, roughly eye level for most beings. The scratches were not just parallel likes though, like a hand clawing at the door. They seemed more random to the sorceress. Wait. Not random. There was something.. else. Taking a step back, Shayuri took in the entirety of the door and the scratches on it. Then she could see it. The scratches formed some sort of symbol, but were done so crudely, akin to a child trying to write for the first time, as to escape virtually all notice...
  14. Alrid excused himself, leaving you to discuss your watch and get your rest. The older man exited the hall, escorted by two men of the village, one armed with a woodcutter's ax and the other with a sickle. Once the door closes behind him the others prepared for sleep, leaving Dread and Rhosh to stand the first watch outside the hall. The night was cool, but not yet cold, though the air was still and it was strangely quiet. Even the bugs and distant frogs by the stream made an inordinately small amount of noise. The moon was still very bright in the sky, having been full a few days ago, so the village was illuminated quite well. Dread took to standing by the door, making a loop around the hall every so often, while Rhosh slipped into the shadows, his attention more focused in the direction of the shelter as he kept his bow at the ready. Having had the scratches shown to him, Dread could make them out much more easily now in the moon light as he leaned near the doors of the halls. The scratches at the edges of the shutters and door latches made sense, but it was the scratches in the middle of the doors that bugged him. The more he looked at them from across the road, the more they seemed to eat at him, irritating the young fighter. For his part, Rhosh watched the shelter, looking for movement, any sign of life, but saw nothing. The shelter itself was a a large hill, several hundred feet from the village and covered in grass and brush. The stream ran on the far side of the hill and then turned to run along the village, causing some reeds and other similar vegetation to grow along the banks, lending shelter to small frogs. The double doors of the entrance that was currently open and Rhosh could see a very, very faint light from deep within the shelter, but it was steady and un-moving, likely a faintly glowing crystal like he had seen within the village hall.
  15. This thread is for OOC talk relating to the game.
  16. D&D 5e: A New Age - OOC

    You have no clocks, but the sun has been down for a few hours, so it is currently 9-10pm or so. And yeah, most villages and towns, especially farming communities, are awake at dawn or so. So 5-6am the village will probably be waking (maybe a little later for those who drank a bit too much).
  17. Alrid nodded and motioned to the main front doors of the hall and toward the door in back, concealed by the curtain, but that you had seen before. "All of the doors bar, and we have already shuttered the windows. If you have need for anything, my home is right across the way." he explained, motioning toward the front doors. OOC: If you are going to do a watch, then work it out so we can keep things moving and not spend 3 days figuring it out. Thanks.
  18. "I can have a few of the village men stay and stand watch for you, if you like, so that you may get your rest." Alrid offers
  19. Arturs' brow furrowed as he thought back, trying to recall what Toral had taught him and if any if it seemed relevant here. He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. I am just an apprentice. The wards seems just past the limit of Toral's ability and understanding. He may have finally made a breakthrough in his understanding, but if he did, he had not told me. If he tampered with them, I suppose something could have accidentally been caught in them, but if that was the case, it would be trapped in the shelter, wouldn't it? How could it be clawing at the homes?" the young wizards apprentice said.
  20. "I do not know all of what you ask. Some home may have been... visited.. more than once. I am not sure. I do know that it has happened to more than one home in a night though, and I believe it began with the homes closest to the shelter, and from there it has spread into the village." Alrid answered.
  21. "There seems to be more marks every night, but yes, some people have heart the scratching, but were too afraid to open a door or shutter. Other slept through it, I suppose. When we can sleep, that is. This all has us quite frightened and every time we tried to do something, we have lost people. or at least they have not returned, or returned with their mind broken. We are not warriors or gifted in the arcane. That is why we sent Arturs and Meghan to ask for aid." Alrid replied.
  22. Brant reached up, toward the ceiling of the captain's cabin, and stretched his arms with a yawn. He shifted to his side, under the covers, and rested a hand on Zaylee's hip as she lay there, looking over some engine diagrams. "Already up, I see." Brant commented and shrugged, "It's not often I get to sleep in, so I enjoy it when I can." Brant nuzzled her ear, inhaling deeply and then sighed as the time, and schedule, came back to his thoughts. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something. Well.. ask you for a favor, really." "Oh? And what's that?" Zaylee asked semi-skeptically. "Well, there is this big Imperial mining operation. We haven;t been able to get too close to it, but for them to come all the way out here to dig something out of the ground means it must be pretty important. The Alliance has been harassing their shipping, at least making it even more costly for them to transport whatever it is they are mining. We cannot commit the resources to a full naval engagement though, unless we are sure it is worth it." "And what is it you want from me?" Zaylee asked. "Well, we've been effective enough that they have started using smaller transports, a mixture of their own transports and hired ones. We've acquired a transponder code for a transport that was hired and Seeing as you have a small transport with a code masker and a uniquely skilled and diverse crew, it would be a big help if you guys could infiltrate in there, see what the hell they are digging up and, if possible, deliver the shipment to the Alliance." "I mean, Gra and I would totally do it, but you know, there's just two of us and our faces are better known to the Empire than you guys." he finishes, flashing his usual roguish smile.
  23. D&D 5e: A New Age - OOC

    Suggested relationships. The depths of these is up to you, but you at least know names and are not hostile. Feel free to work out other relationships to tweak these or disregard them. I am just trying to get the ball rolling here. Dread knows Rhosh and Eon know each other, both being from The Crossing. They have had some small adventures together (as pairs or duos), mostly in town and dealing with angry people or mobs after barfights, trysts, botched pickpocketing and so on. Rhosh and Eon know each other, due to the circles they run in (Criminal and Urchin) and both being Rogues. Shayuri and Eon have all met before, searching for/sharing lore and such. Shayuri studied many books and Eon has heard many tales and legends. Krusk, Dread and Rhosh have worked together in the past, with the temple of Bahamut paying hiring the latter two to aid Krusk to recover an artifact from some Orc raiders.
  24. D&D 5e: A New Age - OOC

    Arturs will be going with you into the shelter. Rhosh managed to recruit him on the trip to the village.
  25. Aldir nodded to Rhosh and took a moment to compose his thoughts “Toral and I have been friends most of our lives, or at least adult lives, since we were Arturs’ age or so. When we last spoke was, of course, before all of this happened. He was a bit overly focused on some bit of research, but that was nothing new for him. I think he was doing some study of the wards.” Alrid said and then sighed. “You see, a major reason why we left the shelter now was that the wards were beyond, probably just beyond, Toral’s ability. I think… I think he felt bad about it, like he was responsible for us being forced out. I had spoken to him about it before, and tried to ease his self-imposed guilt. It was not his fault though. I think we were ready to leave, actually… to reclaim our ancestral home.” Alrid said as he looked around the hall. “I know it does not look like much to you, but this is our home, and had been for generations. Though generations were born, lived and died within that shelter, we always knew that one day we would have to risk leaving the safety it offered, and take back our homes. I think it always bothered him though, like he thought it was his shortcomings as a wizard that forced us out. I have tried to ease his guilt many times, but he has always been a bit of an obsessive man. At some point we were going to chose to leave or be forced out. And with each generation of wizards, I am sure that knowledge was lost. We were farmers, and we have had to re-learn how to plant and raise crops outside, so I am sure that bits of more complex knowledge, like that of the arcane, must have been lost over time in the shelter. Toral, when we last spoke, asked me about the dwarf in the shelter, Ardis Softnote. Being the eldest, I keep our stories and history. I am certainly no Bard, and would never make such claim, but I know our history and try to pass it on.” Alrid explained "Well I'd like to hear more about Ardis myself. It sounds like he played a big part in your community. As it stands, the only things we know so far are that there is a seemingly nocturnal being that is scratching at homes during the night. That could be a were-creature, vampire, or something else entirely, but we still seem to be in need of more information to make sense of things." Rhosh thought aloud. Alrid took a drink of his ale and set down the mug “Ardis Softnote was a dwarven Bard and Rogue from the dwarven keep of Silver Hill. It is said that Silver Hill had much more contact with other peoples and kingdoms, so it was not unusual at the time to see dwarves from there on the surface. Ardis always loved history and stories, especially the strange ones of other races, so despite being born Ardis Mintsilver, he began training as a Bard and left to go see the world. In time he would earn his own family name of Softnote, but it is not clear if it died with him though, for it is said that he likely fathered some children in his adventures. He met many individuals in his travels, and eventually formed an adventuring band with several of them; the beautiful, and deadly, Jhulae, an elven sword-maiden, the wise Nolim Forarr, a wizard of great skill, and the savage, but noble, Bowlloff, a man of remarkable size. Together the four of them had many adventures, and when the Horrors began to appear, they opposed them. For years they battled against them, and in time, only Ardis remained. Even alone he fought against them, with the aid of his magic and stealth, his dagger would often find its way into vulnerable spots of a Horror, wounding and slaying many. The most well known of the Horrors he battled was the cunning Neth’Ka. It is said the two had a long-running feud, battling many times, but neither being able to slay the other. It is said that it was Neth’Ka that attacked when the shelter was being sealed, having tracked a wounded Ardis to the town of our ancestors. It is said that Ardis himself stated he would have stayed out and fought Neth’Ka to the death himself, had he not been wounded, but he did not want to give the horror the satisfaction of killing him, since he was already wounded. He did manage to wound Neth’Ka though, driving it off as the wards were raised, the traps were set and the shelter sealed. It seemed that by denying Neth’Ka satisfaction of slaying him, Ardis struck one final, taunt against the horror, infuriating Neth’Ka, as Ardis was known to do. His wounds were tended to once inside the safety of the shelter and he proved to be of great aid to our ancestors. Being a dwarf, he was familiar with living underground, and so he shared his knowledge, making life within the shelter better for all. He taught how to grow food and raise livestock better within the confines of the shelter, how to brew stout ale and many other things, all making life better. He was a valued member of our community, and his stories and songs are still kept by us to this day. Eventually time caught up with him, as it does us all, and he passed. To thank him for all he had done for us, and to honor such a hero that lived among us, a tomb was fashioned within the shelter, and he was laid to rest there, in veneration, his story carved into the stone so it would never be forgotten.”
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