The Adventures of Kelvin Thundersword

Prologue

“There weren't always dragons in the Valley, you know” the young man said as he looked up from the large dusty tome he was studying.

The old man sitting across from him glanced up from his flagon of dark brew.

“Oh, I know that fact very well, and even though they have now occupied the valley for decades, I can still remember how beautifully peaceful it was before their arrival. In fact, I can pinpoint almost the exact moment that the first dragon came to our little neck of the world, and the main reason for his 'visit': Kelvin Thundersword.”

“Master, surely you don't mean Lord Kelvin the First, the original Baron of Anebury? I've never heard of him being mixed up with the dragons.”

“Well, I don't know if I would call it 'being mixed up with the dragons',” he chuckled under his breath, “but he sure got their attention. Now what has brought on this sudden interest in dragon history Felaros?”

“Right here Master Laerok,” he replied, turning the book around so his master could see, “it says that in the olden days, dragons were rarely seen, and even then only in the northern mountains, and sometimes a stray one was spotted in the jungles of Bothavra way down south. So it just got me to wondering, is all.”

Laerok smiled at his young apprentice, “you remind me a lot of myself, Felaros, at least in my younger days. Always reading, studying, asking questions, and trying to figure the world out. So you really want to hear about dragons, do you?”

Felaros' eyes gleamed as he nodded emphatically. He lived for these moments when Laerok would leave the books, and share tales of his adventures, even though he was convinced that there was quite a bit of embellishment in them.

“You know, storytelling is an awful thirsty endeavor, be a good lad and spring down to the cellar and get me another draught of Himdur Dwarven Stout. Can't have me choking halfway through the tale now can we?”

As Felaros ran down the stairs, Laerok leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head and smiled as he thought back to that fateful day, over half a century back, when he first met Kelvin Thundersword. Who could have predicted then, that the unlikely pair would forge a bond and friendship that would last through the ages. Kelvin was young, impetuous, and full of righteousness, and Laerok, while only slightly older, was calm, studious, and methodical. So different they were, that over the years many wondered how they ever worked together long enough to get anything accomplished. But they did, and as word of their exploits spread, and their fame grew, so did their friendship.

“Here you are Master,” Felaros said as he stumbled into the chamber, intruding on Laerok's fond reminiscing, and sloshing some of the ale onto the table.

“Have a care, son,” Laerok admonished, “that's no way to handle a precious nectar.”

“I'm sorry sir, I guess I am just too excited to hear about Lord Kelvin and the dragons.”

“No harm done lad, now sit down and get comfortable. But the story really isn't about Lord Kelvin, just a story about a couple of boys, really, one driven by adventure, and the other with a thirst for knowledge. Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday ”

* * * * * * *

Chapter 1

The day I arrived in Troinburgh was a typical autumn afternoon, blustery, with just a hint of chill in the air. Being a small remote hamlet on the edge of Kiphurst Forest, there wasn't much in the way of refreshment or lodging. At the end of a dusty road stood the village's only tavern, the Greasy Gauntlet Pub. With an apprehensive sigh, I shook off the miles of road dust from my traveling cloak and went in.

The smells emanating from the kitchen were a lot better than I imagined, or perhaps my ravenous belly made me think so. There were only a few tables occupied so I found a quite corner and motioned to the barmaid. I ordered a pint of ale, not yet having developed my taste for Dwarven Stout, and the barmaid, I believe her name was Kandilum, suggested a hearty bowl of oxtail stew.

I was barely halfway through my stew, and on my second ale, when in through the door stomped a couple of soldiers. They immediately approached the barkeep, and after a short hushed conversation, proceeded to nail a notice on the wall at the end of the bar. Needless to say, curiosity got the best of me, and I non-nonchalantly wandered over to read it. A couple others got to it ahead of me, but as I am fairly tall, I had no problem reading it over their heads.

REWARD

500 Silver Kruens

To the person or persons who:

Locate and Eliminate

The gang of Ruffians known as

The Scarlet Bats

Official Registry will take place at

The Manor House of Castellan Anselmus

Between Sunrise and Mid-Day

Tomorrow and Every Day Hence

Until Satisfactory Proof is Submitted

Of the Elimination of the Scarlet Bats

By Order of Anselmus, Castellan of Troinburgh

Well, that certainly got my attention, I was always on the lookout for possible sources of knowledge and, hopefully, some new spells or lore. But, even if none were found, the reward money would allow me to acquire some the next time I visited Anebury. I quickly finished my meal and procured a room and pledged to be at the manor just as the sun crested the horizon. I also hoped I could convince any other adventurers that showed up to join forces to make the job easier.

The Castellan's manor was the largest building in town, or so the barkeep informed me, and I was there just before sunrise. Upon arrival, I was escorted to a large audience chamber and instructed to sit on one of the benches that were arranged in front of a small dais with an elegantly carved wooden chair on it. I was somewhat surprised that I wasn't the first to arrive, but as I wanted to join a group anyway, I was not discouraged. A few more people came in and sat down, and soon the room was filled with the cacophony that always seems to occur when people are gathered and waiting on something. Just as the sun was starting to shine through the windows at the far end of the hall, a distinguished man, who I assumed was Castellan Anselmus, and flanked by two soldiers, entered the chamber through a set of double doors behind the dais.

As he walked to the dais, everyone in the room stood up, so I followed suit, and remained standing until he had seated himself in the great chair. He apparently needed no introduction, as he began to speak, reiterating the message on the notice from the tavern. When he finished the announcement, he instructed us to line up at the scribe's table, which was at the side of the dais, and supply our information for the registration.

Once I finally got up to the table, I was starting to feel the rush of anxiety that always seemed to precede all of my previous forays into the unknown. The registration was fairly straightforward: name, rank (if any), occupation, birthplace, and next-of-kin (in case of untimely demise or incapacitation). Occupation was a little tricky for me, since I really didn't have one at the moment. You just can't call yourself an adventurer, or lore seeker, and I really wasn't a mage or wizard yet either. Since I was not studying under the direction of a Master, or even in a formal training program in one of the seven official Colleges of Wizards, I couldn't even legitimately be called an apprentice either. Just because I knew a few spells, having studied and learned them on my own, and knew an enormous amount of history and lore, no one would believe that I was a wizard. Without a good clear answer, I chose to call myself a herbalist. I knew quite a bit about herbs and their uses from my studies, but I wasn't sure that would qualify me to go on a hunt and kill mission. My worries turned out to be unfounded, since apparently, no one really cared who you were or what you did, this was all just a formality.

When the scribe was through registering all of us, we were led into an armory and told we could “borrow” any of the weapons or armor in the room, but they must be returned once the task was complete. There was quite an array of weapons and armor, but they were all fairly basic and of mediocre quality, at least as far as I could tell. Some of the group were loading up, while others, like me, passed on the offer. Armor interfered with the movements that my spells required, and I had a really exceptional dagger that my father passed down to me before he died. Once everyone was finished browsing the armory, we were led to a large dining hall where a vast array of food was waiting for us. Hopefully this was not going to be our last meal.

I sat down at an empty table, and began loading up my plate with meats, vegetables, and breads. I hadn't had a meal like this in ages, and I was certainly going to enjoy it. Not long after I sat down, a young man approached the table. Even though he looked young, there was a fire in his eye, and his armor was polished and well made and the large sword that hung from his belt was impressive.

“Kelvin Thundersword, Holy Knight at your service,” he said as he gave a short bow.

“Laerok at yours,” I replied not getting up. “Please have a seat.”

I tried to make small talk, but he was too focused on the “quest” as he called it, and how he intended on completing it. I told him of my plan to try and convince a few others to form a group and work together, even though it meant splitting the reward money. He said he wasn't too interested in the money, he was just wanting to rid the world of all evil. We talked and agreed to work together, even though I was a little apprehensive of his zeal.

We were joined at the table by a young couple that obviously had some elven blood, and their similar features suggested a familial relationship. It turned out they were siblings whose father was a human and their mother was a wood elf. They were shunned and ostracized by the elves, and most humans mistrusted them. They had lived on their own in the Kiphurst Forest for quite awhile, Jadel becoming a Ranger, while his sister, Sarona, became a Druid. The Scarlet Bats had widened their base of operations to include the forest, so they had decided to come to town to try and get help to drive them out of the forest. After much discussion, we all agreed to help each other. So now we were four, and I was beginning to feel a little better about our chances of success.

While we all had been talking, another couple had sat down at the far end of our table. Unbeknownst to us, they had been listening intently to our discussions, and now they moved closer and introduced themselves, Serk and his wife Vongen. They were large and muscular and were dressed coarsely, and they weren't too forthcoming with personal information. All we could get out of them was that Vongen was a healer, a Priestess, and Serk was, according to him, a “blade-master”. Their demeanor was off putting and I wasn't sure I wanted them to accompany us, but we could really use a healer since my herb lore would only get us so far. Kelvin didn't like them at all, but Jadel and Sarona convinced us to let them join, again because of the healer (and we knew they were a package deal).

So now we were all set. For better or worse, the six of us were grouped up and as soon as we finished eating, we were going to set out. We discussed plans and methods, and agreed that we needed more information on the Crimson Bats before we could really begin, so we agreed to start our adventure where we could probably garner the most information, the Greasy Gauntlet.