Strom Graymane
Damara was brutal this time of year. The snows fell high and the wind blew night however, the sky was clear and Strom could see all the stars twinkling. On these nights Strom often found himself wondering about his fate. What did his destiny have in store for him? Why was Strom, a half-orc swordsman, in Damara protecting a caravan from the dangers on the road? These were the questions that Strom asked on cold winter nights. None of them were ever answered. There was only one answer and that was that it simply was so. In reality Strom had joined up with this caravan because he had heard that King Yarin of Damara needed a skilled adventurer to deal with a mighty problem. There was no explanation as to what it was given and Strom didn't care. He needed the money and somebody needed help, so Strom went. Along the way he had happened upon a caravan that was being attacked by goblins and he fought them off and the caravan master hired him to defend them on there way to Helgabal. The caravan master rode up then and pulled Strom from his thoughts. The master was a slim man and short, but had a good heart for a trader.
"Cool night ,milord." the caravan master croaked.
"Very. Can't wait until we hit Helgabal. I have a need of a good mattress under me." Strom said in his deep rough voice.
"Mi lord I wanted to ask you something… about your… uh"
"Spit it out Master Ather."
"You are a half-orc right? You gave us all a scare when you first showed up we thought you were the goblins leader, but instead you have a lordly name and such… How?" Strom knew all about this question. Everytime he took a job this question was asked. At first Strom thought to hide himself and just not explain it, but then that caused problems, so he just started to tell the truth.
"Aye. My mother was the daughter and heir of a Daggerdale lord. My father is the warlord Rend the Blackhand a mighty leader in the Many-Arrows orcs. The orcs attacked a party my mother was in as she traveled to Neverwinter. My father took her and… well she was eventually found by an adventurer and a party of men that my grandfather had sent, she decided to keep me, but my grandfather raised me and granted me his name on my sixteenth birthday… That was five years ago almost to the day."
Strom quieted then, not wanting to bring up bad emotions. Thankfully the caravan master didn't pry any further and soon they were in Helgabal. Strom bid the caravan members a farewell and went to a nicer inn in the merchant district. Over the course of the journey the weather had changed for the worse. First the winds started to blow, but now as Strom opened the door to the inn it began to snow hard. Just in time, Thank the gods. The inn was busy this night. It was one of the largest inns in Hegabal, it was called The Dragonsbane after Gareth Dragonsbane the legendary paladin king of Damara. There was all types in this inn tonight. Travelers, adventurers, gang members, and some locals just trying to have a good night. It was a mess. Strom made his way through the drunks and dancing wenches and made his way to the innkeep. The innkeep was a large and ugly man who, while was way past his prime, looked like he could lift a ox.
"One of your best rooms if you please, Master innkeep." said Strom loudly to be heard over the ruckus. The innkeep looked at Strom with a hard glare and Strom knew where this was going.
"You half-orc git? Bah we don't normally serve ye kind, but I'm in need of coin." the innkeep got under the counter and produced a key. "Third floor. First door on your right. Feather mattress and pillows, large quilt, and a brass bath. Ask one of the lasses for hot water if ye need it.. Now get out of me sight." Strom nodded and continued to the room. Tomorrow Strom would go before the King and offer his services, but tonight he would sleep nice and warm.
It was early in the morning. The sky was just starting to brighten. The room was cold the fire that was roaring in the hearth was now just embers and Strom had been up for an hour already. Strom had the same morning routine. Wake up, Relieve himself, Stretch his whole body, eat some jerky, then work his body. He practice his sword moves and did a full round of full body exercise. Then ended with some more stretching and resting. Strom was just now finishing up his final rest. Strom then went and got dressed in his clothes and went downstairs to ask for some heated water. As he made his way down the stairs he saw the innkeep and his workers start off there day cleaning and Strom could smell food being cooked in anticipation for breakfast. The innkeep gave Strom a stern look as he entered the main room. Fuck I never did pay him for the night! Strom went over to the innkeep.
"Good morrow. I never did pay you for the room… Here." Strom held out ten silver that the innkeep took and nodded. Strom turned then to a pretty maid that was sweeping up the floor and cleaning the tables.
"Barmaid? Could I get a hot water for a bath as soon as you can?"
"Right on it my good man!" said the barmaid. Strom went back to his room to read a little and wait for his water. It was a short time later that a knock at the door and a hurried Hello was heard. Strom put a marker in the book and went to the door. Strom saw the maid from earlier carrying two large buckets with steaming water in them. Strom offered to take them and the maid with a look of relief gave them over. Srom went to the tub and dumped both in. The maid was a pretty lass. She was around Stroms age maybe a bit older. Big brown eyes, long black hair, and held a womanly figure. Strom handed the buckets back to her, but didn't let go. It wasn't everyday Strom saw a woman he liked. Let alone one that didn't look at him as a monster. He wanted to make this moment last.
"Is there anything else you need my goodman?" said the barmaid with a slight smirk. Strom wasn't used to this. Attention by women wasn't something Strom had a lot of off. Strom looked down at the ground and let the buckets go. Eventually after a few awkward moments the barmaid left. Strom stripped down and got in the bath. He washed down and felt all the dirt of the road leave his body. The warm water relaxed his aching body. It had been a long road from Neverwinter to Helgabal and Strom was beaten up pretty badly. Let alone he trained and exercised most days. Bruises were everywhere. Scabs and scars from fights recent and far in the past slashed all around his body. He was a mess. Eventually Strom got out and grabbed a towel. It was cold out of the water and the towel was too small to be wrapped around Strom's waist, so Strom hurriedly dried off and got into his clothes. While normally meeting a king would require Strom not to wear his armor and try to be proper. This King seemed like the kind that wanted to see what he was buying with his coin. Strom latched up his armor, tied his cloak, slung his sword across his back, his small pack, and went out the door. As he made his way to the door he saw the barmaid. She looked at him then shook her head and went back work. Another person that sees only a monster. The doorknob was cold to the touch and Strom knew on the other side would be freezing. He was right. The wind was bellowing and snow covered everything. Strom could barely see fifteen yards ahead of him, but he could see the great keep in the middle of the city. It's outline barely visible in the snow and clouds. Strom made his way down the street. Not many were out except a few people shoveling snow and a few guard patrols that looked miserable. The winding streets of Hegabal proved that this wasn't a planned city. It had grown in time and some streets ended and another began making it a chaotic ride to the keep. It took Strom two hours to get to the castle. The portcullis were down as court wasn't in session yet and Strom had to talk to a half frozen guardsman.
"Court isn't in session yet. You have to come back later!" a guardsman yelled over the howling wind.
"I'm not here for court business. I'm Strom Graymane heir to Winter's Halt in Daggerdale. Adventurer. I'm here to talk to King Yarin."
"You a lordlings heir. Fuck and I'm the queen. Piss off you half-orc grunt or I'll beat you silly." One of these. Every lord, king, person in power has one of these…. a prick.
"You don't have to believe me. I don't care if you do, but I know with this kind of weather King Yarin isn't going to have too many adventurers come through here and if he learns you sent away one without consulting him… well he may just make you an example." The guard looked scared then. Obviously this Yarin isn't such a nice fellow. I must keep my mouth in check around him.
"Ah fuck. I won't be put in the stock again. Go on, but if you end up doing anything stupid make sure and tell me, so I can get the hell out of this city." Storm nodded and the portcullis was opened. Strom made his way into the castle. The castle was a fortress. High grey walls and large yards. All around were training dummies and quintains. Usually kings have fancy gardens. This one has a war camp. This king truly doesn't care much for pomp. Strom made his to the keep's door. There was another pair of guards. Upon seeing Strom they put there hands on their sword hilts and were poised for battle.
"Bloody fuck a Half-orc. Who the hell let you in?" demanded the bigger of the guards. Every gods damn time.
"My name is Strom Graymane. I'm heir to Lord Brynden Graymane lord of Winter's Halt in Daggerdale. I'm an adventurer answering the summons of King Yarin." The guards both held confused looks, but eventually opened the door and bid Strom not to do anything stupid. Strom nodded his agreement and went on in. When the doors closed behind him a old man with a hunched back came up to him.
"Strom Graymane… I'm Henrich. I'm King Yarin's steward and page. His Grace would like to meet you in an hour. In the meantime I'm here to see to your needs. King Yarin is a strong caretaker of guests. Everything from food to women are yours if you wish."
"I'm grateful for the hospitality. I would take a bit of food and drink if I could. It was a tough journey through the city."
"Aye. It is a brutal day for outsiders. Us Damarans know how to survive though. It is in our blood. Follow me to the dining hall if you please." The old man turned then and briskly walked through a doorway. Strom followed with his armor clinking with every step. I wonder about this king. The guards fear him, yet he takes care of guests. A stern man I suppose. Strom and Henrich found themselves in the dining hall. Only they, a maid, and a armored man wearing a tabard of House Frostmantle were in the room. Henrich bid Strom sit at a far benchtable and asked the maid to fetch a platter and a pitcher of ale.
"My friend. King Yarin would like me to attend to you in anyway, so I feel he would like for me to stay with you. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all my goodman. You should tell me of yourself while we eat." As Strom said that the man in the tabard look hard at him. He stared at Strom for a long while even when Henrich was telling Strom of his days as a adventurer. Strom was starting to get concerned, but deep down he knew he could best ten of these guardsmen. What of the rest of the garrison… what of the city watch? I can't take them all. I just hope that man doesn't like Half-orcs and he's not in on some plan with Yarin. Why would they want me though? What do I pose to them. The hour past somewhat fast Henrich was an intriguing man. He had served in many battles and had been all around the world. He had been born on the Moonshae Isles, but had left and changed his name long ago. The man was still staring at Strom. Never taking his eyes of him except to blink. Eventually Henrich said that the King should be expecting Strom soon and that they should wait in the throne room. Thank the gods. I can get away from that man. They were entering the throne room when Strom saw him. King Yarin Frostmantle was a big man. Long blonde hair and penetrating pale blue eyes marked this man's last name, Frostmantle, to be very fitting. He was a tall thin man with a long face and a fierce beard. He looked half wolf. He spoke in a rough smoky voice.
"Lord Strom. I know why you came. I've known since you were on the road from Suzail. I'm in need of your help and you have the chance to be rich at the end of this shall you succeed. I am haunted by the ghosts of my previous wives. I need you to cleanse the house of Frostmantle."
"Your Grace I regret to inform you I'm no ghost slayer, but I do know alittle about the undead. I might be able to help."
"That will do Graymane. That will do"