Bob: The Ingredients Vendor

[Ollathir]

Bob originated in the General Discussions section. Now he has a real home, Thanks Turbine. (Of course I'd often thought, after writing the second part, he should have been in the Development section. :) ) But for now, Bob's thrilled to be here.

Bob is a Halfling Adventurer who arrived in Stormreach just recently. He had traveled far and wide gathering a great deal of ingredients generally by bartering but not averse to 'Other means', ;) when the situation came up for collecting.

But now Bob is looking to settle down a bit from his adventuring days. He wants to find a good location to set-up shop and barter his ingredients. He figures theres a need for him and that makes him happy, knowing that he may be able to tell a story or two to his customers is a plus. But first he needed to make his his way to the Marketplace. He had heard stories before arriving in Stormreach about the large Market Tent there. He was sure they would have plenty of room for him there.

"Sorry," the guard at the gate said. "Only the Harbormaster can grant access to the Marketplace." But Bob knew how to read people and by the glint in the Guards eye he knew all it would take was a little 'convincing' before he was in the gate.
Happy to accept a generous donation on behalf of the Harbormaster, the guard allowed Bob through the gate.

"What the..." Said Bob shocked by the sight of nothing but rubble and watchtowers where the famed Marketplace Tent should have been.
"What happened to the Market Tent?" He asked the old Warforged at the gate.
"Tent? Well that got blown up ages ago. **** devils. You must be new around these parts huh. I'm Bellwether Bill, whats your name and what brings you here?"
"Blown up!?" Replied the still shocked and upset halfling. "Wow...uhm...Bob. The names Bob. What happened to all the shops Bellwether?
"Well the Barkeep, Jordan Cuolter, over at The Rusty Nail agreed to hold em up. Thats where you'll find em, just down on the right, down the street. Inn's on the left. Can't miss it."
Grabbing his cart Bob bid farewell and thanks to Bellwether Bill for the information and made his way down the street to The Rusty Nail looking occasionally over where the Tent used to be.

"Nope sorry friend." The barkeep replied. "As you can see barely enough room as it is. Now I know you've got some good wares there, but I'm afraid every adventurer in Stormreach would be crammin in here to deal with you and we couldn't handle that traffic. Toilets get backed up enough as it is." Jordan said as he was cleaning a glass.
"Maybe you should try the Aurum Quartermaster in Gianthold, oh...whats his name...Orzabal I think. He's got a similar type of buisness you want to open. He should be able to help you out if anyone can. Just speak with Cydonie down the street, cute gal, she'll tell you how to find him."

"Thanks Jordan" said Bob as he made his way to the door.

"To tell you the truth, buisiness for me hasn't been that great little fella. Don't seem to be much call for me these days. Oh here and there I'll get a trade but nowhere near what it used to be." Orzabal said.
"But see here. You got the right idea and I'm thinkin you'll have more buisiness than you could shake away so I'll give you a few pointers. My goin rate is three of one type of relic for one of whatever they needed. Seemed fair by me and I'm sure you could do the same for your ingredients." Orzabel smiled. "But you won't be able to set-up here. Sorry but Aurums are pretty strict about thatsort of thing and besides, just bad buisiness, location is everything you know. You got to make your way to Meridia. Yep, thats where you need to be. The adventurers out there are crazy bout those things you have. I'm sure you'd be busy enough, but good luck. Not as easy to get there these days with The Vale being what it is." Shaking hands with Orzabel, Bob thanked him for his information and advise.

Once again Bob headed out to what he hopes to be his final destination. Though from Adventurers all around Stormreach he knows getting there will be no easy task. There are many challenges in his way and he may not make it there at all. But he beleives deep down without doubt that he has a calling and a responsability to those in Meridia.

Will Bob make it there... He must, but only time will tell.



If you like feel free to jump ahead to Bob's story.

Part 2 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2007769&postcount=15)

Part 3 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2024042&postcount=34)

Part 4 (http://forums.ddo.com/showpost.php?p=2045446&postcount=41)

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[Ollathir]

After passing the Warforged Gatekeeper at the entrance of The Twelve, Bob found himself talking with the elf who introduced himself as Geriatrus. “This is the most unfortunate of times. Though I do not believe Gustavine will allow you to pass into The Vale," Geriatrus stated, "you may proceed.”

Bob, leaving his cart outside stepped inside the large Tower of the Twelve. As he entered the room at the end of the hall he was amazed at what he saw. The man who he believed to be Gustavine motioned him forward.

All around him in darkness Bob noticed Twelve marks on the walls and a strange crystal hanging through the ceiling. Then without warning lightning coming from or going to the twelve marks from the crystal made him jump. Strangly he thought the lightning should be lighting up the room but eerily the darkness around it held firm.

“What you request is not possible at this time Bob.” Said Gustavine.
“I do see where your services may be welcomed in Meridia. You are correct. But nether Aaseamah nor myself could possibly help you at this time.”

Bob thought about Gustavine’s word’s a moment. If it was one thing Bob is known for is not giving up. “You know,” Bob spoke up sounding very positive, “I understand you cannot guarantee my saftey nor can you accept that responsibility, but I have no intention of travelling alone even without the help of The Twelve. I'm sure you don't know this but I’ve found myself to be a very resoucefull fellow in many a tight spots. Besides...I fancy an adventure like this would make a great story.” Bob paused for a moment checking the look on Gustavine’s face. “ I promise to share it with Aaseamah just as soon as I arrive.”

Gustavine nodded in agreement. “Well, why don’t you stay the night in Adept’s Rest." He said. "The barkeep, Ulf will see to your needs... and...from what I understand he likes a good story now and then.” And Gustavine smiled.

Bob returned the smile and nodded his thanks.

Ulf had proven as ever a good listener as Bob had hoped. After Bob had explained what he wanted to do and the problem's he faced getting to Meridia, Ulf shook his head in agreement and walked to the other side of the bar as if to get something. A moment later Bob found himself being called over with a nodding gesture from the dwarf.

“I like your story lil fella. Your right, that buisiness idea of tradin Ingredients is a great idea. I get adventurers in here on occasion drownin their sorrows bout not havin what they need, 'If only I would have got such and such' they says. So I think I can help you out. Now I know some dwarves known to…well… do some things from time to time for House Kundarek Banking. They don’t come cheap mind you, but they may be your best option of getting to Meridia.” Ulf said.

“Well”, Bob paused a moment, “Let me think about it a bit and I’ll let you know on the morrow after I break fast.”

[Ollathir]

More than anything else, I hope you enjoy Bob's story.

Bob woke early in the morning. The suns light was barely creeping up over the mountains of The Vale but five of Bob’s six hired escorts were still fast asleep. He knew one was on watch somewhere close by, where he couldn’t see, but he was sure the guard knew he was up and about.


Bob had left with his group from The Phoenix Tavern a few days past. They seemed interested in helping him get to Meridia to set-up shop, but was told that they had “another agenda” for heading out there this time and that it may take a bit longer. Bob didn’t feel the need to ask and they didn’t seem to want to offer up any other info, so he left it at that.

Bluejay was the leader of the group. Though Bob doubted that was his real name. From what he was told, Blue was a Warchanter. Unlike most dwarves Bob had met he was clean shaven, wore spectacles and as Bob found out very easy to get along with. He could see why the others did what he asked with no complaints. Even dour folks around Blue in general seemed happy.

Rotwld was the youngest of the group. A Tempest Ranger who spent most of his time sharpening the blades of his many axes than talking with folk. All too quiet for Bob’s taste. Rotwlds morning ritual consisted of shaving his head, bald, with a keenly sharpened hand axe, and washing then rebraiding his more traditional double braided beard. Next he did some sort of routine with two very large Dwarven axes that left Bob dizzy if he tried to follow the blades. “Don’t let him fool you.” Blue said. “As fast as he spins those things they go, exactly where he wants them to.”

Hamerith, a Barbarian was a bit different that most Barbarians Bob had met. He was used to the vulgar and wild, leaves everything on the table type of Barbarians, Hamerith was that and more. Bob liked the crazy free spirited Hamerith and found himself easily more willing to charge off and do things he wouldn’t do ordinarily outside of his presence. He seemed to always say out loud what other folk generally keep to themselves, which as Bob found out their last night in The Phoenix, usually ended in a brawl.

Ontyrx was very close in appearance to Bluejay with exception of a short beard and a certain look in his eyes. This look told Bob he lacked all the graces or desires of being in charge. Seemed well enough to talk with, much more approachable than Rotwd but Bob still thought to himself,’ Sorcerers, why is it they always tend to go it on their own?’ Bob, not being a coward, moreover just very bright when it came to instinct, knew most Sorcerers to be all too effective at what they do to ever ask the question out loud.

The Fighter in the group, Klavin, seemed very easy to please. “I like three things.” He told Bob very frankly in his gruff voice, but a gleam in his eyes. “Women, fighting and teasing that tree hugger Rotwld every chance I get.” “Boy,” Klavin had said to Rotwld shaking the sleep from his head one morning. “Have you ever slept with anything other than an axe? Might wanna think about getting a move on, before you roll out of your pallet one morn and end up singin sweeter than Bluejay.” Bob found his pokes at Rotwld and his joking nature, passed time more quickly for him.

Ikce, the Cleric of the group, was also Klavin’s brother. Though Bob would have never made the connection by mannerisms and speech alone. Ikce was more akin to Rotwld, he kept to himself, generally very pious, but yet tolerated very well the antics of Klavin and Hamerith. Though he knew Ikce’s main concern was looking after the rest of the group, Bob noticed he never really got too far away from his Dwarven axe and shield.

Bob knew it was too dark yet to ready the cook fire so he went to check on his merchandise. Scales, stones, shrapnel, chains, arrows and bones of 3 different sizes filled his wagon. Though he knew he could always use more bones even he was amazed at how much he had acquired over the years.

“You know,” Bob heard Bluejays voice out of nowhere, “Adventurers work hard getting these things. I myself have made quite a few items that have made doing what we do… a bit easier. Folks know this too.” Bluejay paused a moment walking closer so Bob could see him. “ It brings adventurers together from all over to fight for a common reason. Now I’m sure you have some idea of how welcomed you will be if you can set-up shop. More than that though, your gonna bring some sort of balance that these folks are in dire need of.”

Bob thought about what Blue had said to him. The validation of his words made it even more clear what he had to do. “Thanks for putting that into perspec…” Bob suddenly broke off as an arrow hit the dirt no more than a foot away. "What the..." Bob finished.

Blue darted away and Bob could see the rest of the camp rustling to their feet as he woke them. As he looked out over the dark valley, though the sun was creeping higher, all he could make out were numerous shapes moving in the distance.

"Well," Rotwld said to Bob walking out of the dark as he stooped to pick up his arrow, "Here we go."


***The names of these adventurers or any resemblance is Purely Coincidental and in no way meant to resemble any other adventurer either living or dead in Stormreach.***

[Ollathir]

Just after twilight in the early dawn Bob finally saw them, “Ogres.” Bob said with a sigh. He doesn’t care much for Ogres. As he remembers it, they smell bad and hit awfully hard.

But as Bluejay was singing, Bob’s initial fears seemed to fall away. He felt more courageous and inspired than he had in a long while. Bob was definitely ready for a fight.

Hamerith was first to put ‘Death’s Knell’, (what Hamerith had named his great axe), into the fight. Bob had seen him in a tavern fight not four days past, but what he saw now was nothing like the playful and crazy Barbarian then. This one Bob liken to a mad dog fighting for supremacy of its territory. The great axe holding true to its name sent an Ogre’s head from its shoulders at first strike. The next, directly in the midsection, sent one Ogre doubling over and three feet off the ground. ‘Impressive, but foolish.’ Bob thought. Two Ogres’ were on Hamerith before he could pull the axe out.

Klavin had made his way over by the Barbarian’s side, his yells and taunts at the Ogre’s, gave Hamerith, and Ikce the Cleric for that matter, some much needed relief. The Ogre’s desperately tried to get at Klavin. Bob watched as Klavin used his shield to quickly smash an Ogre’s head, temporarily stunning it just long enough for his axe to find its mark. One of the Ogre’s in a fit of rage brought its club down with a ferocity that would have crushed Bob. Klavin buckled under the weight with his shield, but undamaged he sprang up and cleaved the Ogre’s arm and leg off with his axe.

Rotwld was nothing short of a whirling tempest of steel. Just as one blade found its mark, another would block an incoming assault. He moved with lightning quick speed and precision, seeming to take less damage than Klavin or Hamerith. He made short work of the assailants. Ducking a club swung by an enraged Ogre, Rotwld rolled behind it, caught its hamstring and tumbled out of the way. Notching four arrows at a time he let loose a barrage at his opponent and at another Ogre trying to make his way around Klavins exposed side. Both of them hit the ground shortly after.

Bob could have watched this Ranger bringing the fight to the Ogre’s for much longer had he not caught a glimpse of an Ogre rushing well within striking distance of the Cleric. Everyone else was busy, so Bob made his move. With expert quick precision, silent as the Grim Reaper himself, Bob was on the Ogre. With no warning at all, Bob found the sweet spot, and the Ogre hit the ground before he ever knew he was dead.

Ontyrx was a sight to behold as well. He filled the areas with a fog helping to conceal his companions, laid web in areas to prevent the Ogres from getting at him too quickly while simultaneous eruptions of Fireballs and a sickly green light, laid waste to the Ogres in devastating fashion. Sometimes they would simply drop dead with one movement from Ontryx. Bob could tell, this Sorc definitely enjoyed his power. He didn’t seem to help his companions all that much with protections and such, rather he left that up to Bluejay to provide. Bluejay did that and more.

The Bard would speed up his companions, make them harder to hit and keep them inspired during the fight. Occasionally when the mob seemed to be overpowering he would immobilize them with song, leaving them prancing in place, even Bob himself took advantage of the opportunity to take out the Ogres when this happened. Aside from Ikce the cleric, who seemed exhausted from just keeping Hamerith on his feet, Bob could see how important Bluejay was to his companions. When needed, he could help keep them healthy, as well as all the other talents at his disposal.

The Ogre mob was finally at an end. Bob was surprised. The Ogres had very few shamans with them. They usually make the fight a bit harder.

“We need to break camp.” Bluejay said after tending to some injuries. Bob knew everyone was exhausted still from their morning fracas.

“That was just a small sampling of what’s headed our way.” Bluejay continued. “They appear to have cut us off our path to Meridia.”