Village of Paws - A Breezy Encounter

[Jupiter]

Over the chatter of the busy tavern you overhear two men more boisterous than the rest laughing about an unusual subject…

The first man explodes with laughter, “Hahaha! You say he said it was what? An AIR elemental?”

“No, no, I jest not!” the bald man retorts “and I’ll stake my life on it! Hell I already gambled my life just to get the King back to the Village of Paws!”

“Go on then, Haggard” the first man continues, “tell it again!”

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The day started like any other. We two guardsmen of Paws were making our way out of Lord Brit’s dismal city southward to Paws. As we approached the southern bridge, just outside the guard post of course, there was a true man of the sword. He was slashing furiously at an ettin, a troll, an orc, and TWO harpies. All the while the guards had locked them selves in their tower and were shouting brave comments. The man was laying the final blows to the ettin when we came upon him; just in time too I might add for right as we did, the ettin let out a ferocious roar and cracked the man’s armor tunic in two. Surely this was a man worthy of Zoltan’s blessing. The warrior’s name was Dorian, Dorian Brytestar.

But wouldn’t you know it, we arrived at the village only to find a note signed by the King Zoltan himself “Ran out of liquor. Gone to Skara Brae to call in some favors.” So, as our fate would have it we were going to Skara Brae.

The self proclaimed King of Paws is a mystery to be sure of it! Though he can often come off as confused and in a permanent state of inebriation, the man seems to wield some cosmic power that leads him only towards good fortune and extraordinary feats.

When we arrived in Skara, we began our inquiry at the local tavern. We were certain Zoltan had recently been there when we saw the tavern keeper in tears and babbling “he didn’t stop drinkin’… never stopped. It’s not natural that man can consume that much! I will never wager with any man from Paws again!”

Seeing that the tavern keeper in such a wretched state, we gathered information from the waitress. We learned that that no sooner had he finished the last drop of wine, the stranger departed out of town saying there was some matter that needed tending on the road to Yew. She remarked that the man was able to keep to a surprisingly steady course despite the fact that he had just emptied the tavern’s entire wine cellar.

We raced along the road to Yew, and heard the unmistakable cry, “Get back you! You’re in my way! Don’t you know who I am?! You miserable puff of air!” Now don’t be mistaken, this was not your typical whirling dervish.. this one was a thick, putrid torrent the color of jade and it was howling curses that would sully even the vilest of men! I tried to convince Zoltan that we ought to go about Yew another path but of course his reply was “Nonsense! I’ll not be impeded by a puff of air! This is not but an air elemental!” Well who was I to argue with a man who is coddled the cosmic fates? I commenced handing him orange potions as I watched our king single handedly squelch a poison elemental .