Drake's Wild Adventures

We begin in the small city of Mortheim, off near the western seas. Mortheim may be small but it contains many businesses, including a regionally well known adventurers guild. Many adventurers started their career there, learning the basics of survival while receiving free basic equipment.

One particular group of adventurers had just started their new career. Our as yet unnamed party was travelling back to the guild from their first job, all high spirits. We had Trust, the Tiefling, all quiet as she tried to prove her namesake; Tarik, the dwarven cleric of Moradin in his heavy armour and shield; and Drake, the most roguish fellow you could find: a sleek human, with dark hair and dark clothes - as if he read 'how to be a rogue' as a bedtime story.

To get to the job they had to travel three days. Across wide plains, over rolling hills and through thick forests. Now returning from the successful job they had to take the whole three day trip back, and sadly didn't have portal lenses. The first day of travel through the forest was uneventful. The forest was quiet, the night was empty save for the distant calls of owls. The hills were much the same, empty except for passing animals and night hunters. No threats to these would-be-adventurers.

Finally they made it to the plains.

While none of them had a lick of tracking skills, it was obvious to them that a large group was ahead of them. They had stumbled across tracks, lots of them, dozens of footprints. Alongside the prints were thick lines, clearly the sign of wagons. Drake noted (in his usual monologue about not trusting travellers) that the tracks hadn't been here when they had passed through to the job four days prior. He declared that they just /had/ to follow them. So, off the party went with a bit of a grumble.

For hours they followed the trail, rather easy when carts cut into the ground. Soon the sun began to fall. The swift-footed party had caught up however, as they spied smoke in the distance. Drake hushed Tarik in his noisy armour and both his companions tried to convince him to just leave it alone. At this point they could hear sounds, which grew louder and louder as Drake and his companions drew closer. They approached cautiously, quietly. Then Drake stopped, dumbfounded.

The sounds resonated with him, he understood the language, the familiar sounds echoing up through his memory. Drake had a dark past which he hadn't fully shared yet, for he could never truly bring himself to share it. Drake told his companions to wait as he stalked forward, a man on a mission. He refused to translate it, and wouldn't listen to a word they said. He dropped to the floor and began to slowly, ever so slowly, creep forward. He slithered through the grass much like a snake; slowly drawing nearer and nearer.

Memories of that traumatic past flickered through his mind as he got closer, his companions watching with bated breath. He moved to the very edge of the camp, the very edge of the shadows around the campfire near the caravans. The tall shapes became figures, but his human eyes could not discern what they truly were - not until he heard them.

<c]nD>"Hahhag, buuh Ruhhanau, fuh-....fuh.....HAKO?!"</c>

The orcish words sprung from the poor actors lips as he tried hard to recite his lines and failed terribly. The trio had stumbled across an orcish theatre troupe!

Trust and Tarik eventually joined Drake, and they got talking with the Troupe. Apparently they were en-route to perform Gnomio and Juliette within Mortheim in the following days, but wanted to practice a new show, while on the road. The lead actor, Grokvush, apparently had a really bad time of remembering it. Drake stuttered an off colour remark about Orcish culture before then doubling back by saying he had friends who were Orcs. They didn't take particularly kindly to it.

Originally told by Veisha Calan during the first Day of Stories. Recorded, written and embellished by Minto T Fuzzypaw.