Dor, the Half-Orc Paladin
DnD Online Games - Arphahat's Game
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This is excerpted from a private thread of a game in which I took part.
Arphahat's Game Ok as a traveler you start out in a room in the inn connected to the church of Flarnanghn or however you spell it... So start roleplaying! |
Introduction A massive creature lies on a bed under several blankets, snoring loudly. With a snort, he sits upright abruptly. His eyes are wild and angry, as they scour the room. The creature blinks several times in rapid succession and slowly the anger fades from his eyes. It was a dream, a dream that has haunted him since he discovered the truth. Though only fourteen, Dor is huge. At 7 feet tall and 400 pounds, he is an large even for a Half-Orc. His black, shoulder-length mane is wild and unkempt, despite his best efforts. He runs his fingers through the mane now, remembering the dream... He had found his Pa. The location and details changed from dream to dream, but the premise remained the same. This time, the encounter was in the middle of a field at night, during a thunderstorm and Pa was twice as tall as Dor. Pa smirked at Dor and Dor swung his massive greatsword in response, severing Pa's head... only the body suddenly still had its head and was laughing; laughing at Dor. “Stop laughing at Dor!” he shouts, recalling the dream. He turns and sits with his feet on the floor, head in his hands. He rubs his eyes and thinks. “Harky says Dor ree-flect-on-dream,” he mumbles. “Ask Har-o-nus for guide.” Harkin was the kindly old cleric who raised Dor from birth. The typical “fat-friar”, his smile and gentle eyes could always calm the seemingly unending sea of rage that resided in Dor. He grew to love Dor as his own son, and Harkin was the only father that Dor ever knew. When Dor had asked about his birth parents, Harkin was truthful as he always was when he spoke with Dor.... Dor's mother, Cathra, had died during childbirth while in the care of the church. Cathra had been a simple peasant in a little village that no longer existed; it had been destroyed during an Orc raid. The same Orc raid in which Cathra had been brutally assaulted and raped by an Orc. She was taken prisoner, but had found a means to escape. She had stumbled upon the sanctuary where Harkin would later be charged with her care. The rage that developed in Dor concerned Harkin, and he had pressed the trainers to instruct his young charge in the ways of a paladin. Though they were hesitant, Harkin's persistence eventually convinced them to appease the old cleric. While Dor did not have much in the way of intellect (he took after his father is this regard), he did have a simple faith and a remarkable insight. He would never be well received as an ambassador, but the trainers came to realize that he would still be a remarkable paladin. Upon the completion of his training, Dor was ordained into the ranks of the Paladins of Heironeous; Harkin had never been so proud. The sanctuary in which he had lived could no longer provide any additional training; he would receive further instruction from the Temple of Heironeous in Saltmarsh. So, Dor and Harkin bid one another a teary farewell (Dor had never been apart from Harkin) and Dor set off on his own for the first time. He had arrived at the inn last night. Dor stands and dresses in his simple clothing. His shirt and trousers are nothing of any note, but his cloak, sword and scale mail all bear the insignia of Heironeous. Around his neck hangs the simple wooden icon made for him by Harkin. Though worn with age, the wooden symbol of Heironeous is treasured by Dor due to the creator of the object. After a quick breakfast at the inn, Dor carefully re-reads the simple directions and heads off toward the Temple of Heironeous. |
The Temple of Heironeous Dor carefully considers the directions written on the crumpled parchment. After more than a few wrong turns, he arrives at the temple. The temple is impressive to behold, at least it is to Dor. Standing before the towering structure, Dor stares toward its peak with a gaping mouth. Much bigger than home. He staggers up the front steps of the temple, still amazed at its height, and strides through the double-wide entryway. Inside, Dor's amazement continues. Ornately decorated, the interior is embellished with elaborate murals on a tall ceiling supported by massive pillars, life size paintings on the walls and statues everywhere. Dor sees a man that appears to be a cleric who is performing some task, oblivious to his arrival. Looking down at the parchment again, Dor calls out: “You Wy-deeg?” The cleric appears slightly taken aback by Dor's inquiry, disrupted from his task at hand. “N.. No, I am not Wiedig. He is in the back,” he says, pointing toward a passage at the back of the temple. Dor grunts his appreciation in the direction of the cleric and abruptly turns toward the passage and walks to it. Wiedig is the head of the Temple of Heironeous in Saltmarsh and is the individual that Dor was instructed to contact. Dor's advancement as a Paladin would continue through the instruction provided by Wiedig and the completion of the quests he assigned. An older man in elaborate vestments sits at a desk, quill in hand, scribbling on a parchment. When Dor enters, he looks up from his writing briefly, then returns his attention to the parchment. “Ah, you must be Dor”, he says slowly, distracted by the words he is composing. “I have many important tasks, quests, to discuss with you. The first being,” he says as he sets the quill into its ink bottle and rolls and seals the parchment, “to deliver this message for me.” |
The message is adressed to a tailor named Golan. |
The Quest Dor reaches forward and takes the parchment. “Take this important message to Golan. He is a tailor on the other side of town. He will not be surprised to see you. When you are finished, please see Cadwyn; you likely passed him on the way to see me. He will have additional tasks... quests... for you.” Dor drops to a knee, bows his head and says, “Dor hon'rd ta bring glory ta Har-o-nus widda completion of dis quest,” as he was taught to do. Then, he quickly stands, turns and heads toward the exit. While Dor was not surprised by his “quest,” he was disappointed. Throughout his training, he had been routinely dismissed as a simpleton, as one who could only accomplish the most trivial and least important of tasks. This was not the first “important quest” that he had been sent on... At the sanctuary, where Dor had lived, his first “quest” during his training had been to clean the stables. Followed by unloading the wagons. Numerous times, he had delivered important messages which were simply routine. Dor had returned to Harkin after that first day, angry and incensed. As he walked through the streets, looking for the tailor, Dor remembers the conversation he had with Harkin. “Harky, they no want Dor! They make Dor do stupid choirs! Why, Harky, why?!” he spit the words out, breathing heavily, fighting back the tears and rage. Harkin put a gentle hand on Dor's shoulder and gave him a little smile. “Dor,” he said soothingly, “the choirs you completed today weren't stupid. They weren't trivial. Though you may not have seen it, every task you did today helped one of our order, and in helping our order, you served Heironeous in his battle against Hextor. Not every quest can be about saving the world. But every quest is important and should be treated as such. Do well on the little tasks and you will be trusted with the larger ones.” Dor approaches the tailor's. He was disappointed not by the quest, but by the way in which it was assigned. Every quest important and should be treated as such. Dor enters the tailor's shop and walks to the man who appears to be the owner. He says, “Message for Golan,” extending his hand holding the parchment. Harky would be proud. Dor had taken Harkin's words to heart and had earned a reputation at the sanctuary as being extremely dependable; he would earn that reputation again in Saltmarsh. |
You notice that Golan looks kind of nervous but that is all. |
With a slightly trembling hand, Golan takes the message from Dor. He turns as he opens it and begins to pace as he reads the contents. Dor waits patiently, hands held behind his back, swaying ever so slightly from leg to leg, anticipating that a responding message will be needed. Dor notices when Golan finishes and asks, “Do you wanna send message back wit Dor?” pointing at his chest with his index finger on the annunciation of his name. “Y-Yes, I suppose that would be appropriate,” Golan responds. He starts looking around for parchment and ink. Dor decides to look around the shop while he waits. |
Actually: Golan reads the letter and then turns to regard you and asks if you have any armor that you might want to wear for the task the the Cleric sent you for or any weapons if so he advises you to fetch them from the inn (which is just a few buildings down the street) and then return, |
“Dor ready now. How can Dor help Golan?”, Dor says, as he had dressed in his full armor for his first visit with Wiedig. Wiedig must have been testing Dor with his seemingly insignificant wording of this quest, trying to see if Dor would react. Dor had passed the test. |
Just wait here then. Uumm you can sit over there he says pointing to a bench next to the door. |
Dor sits on the bench, grasps his wooden holy symbol and meditates upon the virtue of patience. |
As you are sitting on the bench a wizard comes in and accepts a job from the tailor. It sounds like they are going to help you. |
posted by Andy at 2:04 PM
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