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characters:s1:the_numismatist [2024/08/27 16:14] – lesser_beecharacters:s1:the_numismatist [2025/09/09 17:33] (current) – [Author's Note] lesser_bee_2_the_losening_of_my_old_account
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 ====== The Numismatist ====== ====== The Numismatist ======
 +
 +===== Author's Note =====
 +
 +So, coming into the server, I ended up really vibing with the lore and I wrote extensive fanfiction about my character as he lived in the setting which I don't particularly regret, as I like some bits and pieces of it. I stand by that as a character, Spondulix had a neat gimmick as a numismatist who didn't understand the value of money, he just liked that coins had history. Making a civilization of desert-dwelling duergar beholden to Icele was a lot of fun, and I got a kick out of writing a cringy little prayer for them.
 +
 +Unfortunately, I definitely put the cart before the horse. Spondulix's actual adventures ended up really conflicting with his character mostly out of necessity, as his whole schtick of being fresh out of the ground and awestruck by the world around him was going to be a detriment to people who agreed to be in a party with him. Pressured by that, he became much more combat-oriented for just some guy who was a coin collector, and it didn't really make him all that interesting in exchange. The quests he went, specifically clearing out a warren of goblins and stopping the desecration of Brutal Mike's temple, didn't really advance him as a character; at best we got some information about the various coins on the Roll of Ages. But Spondulix himself wasn't really interesting enough to warrant so much backstory. You really only know if a character is interesting enough for that in hindsight, and I think I should have let the adventures shape him as a person more than writing reams of backstory.
 +
 +I almost wanted to wipe the character from existence, but the reboot with the Age of Fate has kinda-sorta had that taken care of. Also, the characters Spondulix //had// traveled with would all be asked to just mysteriously wipe their memories clean of any encounter with him. Just seems unreasonable. I honestly even question the necessity of leaving this up, as it's not like Spondulix accomplished as much as the legends with Casterhaus and such and, at the time of writing, I've participated in two expeditions total. I'm not exactly old blood whose contributions need to be encapsulated for all of time, so saying it's for "maintaining a complete server history" would be pretty rich coming from a no-name schmuck like me and Spondulix. Nonetheless, I'll leave this up; if the folks in charge decide to delete this, I won't be offended. As it stands, this isn't canon to the current Spondulix either, as in the other games beyond this server that I used the character, I made him a lot more mean-spirited and more like a standard duergar. Of course, this doesn't work perfectly because he already met with several people so far and his story is inextricably linked with their development, so the cognitive dissonance will be a problem we deal with once we get there.
 +
  
 ===== Foreword ===== ===== Foreword =====
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 On an edge of Al-Qashqa that Grand Sultan Malmon held no jurisdiction over, yet not quite close enough to be called part of Zweistrum, a stretch of wasteland made a natural border, an obstacle to be crossed or avoided–inhospitable at the best of times. At best, badlands dwarves quarreled with scab orcs; their corpses making a feast for thunderbirds, scorpions, and basilisks. And at worst, dreadful blue dragons and ashworms bored colossal holes under the earth, collapsing any homes on a whim while forming the only hospitable places outside of the hot sun. On an edge of Al-Qashqa that Grand Sultan Malmon held no jurisdiction over, yet not quite close enough to be called part of Zweistrum, a stretch of wasteland made a natural border, an obstacle to be crossed or avoided–inhospitable at the best of times. At best, badlands dwarves quarreled with scab orcs; their corpses making a feast for thunderbirds, scorpions, and basilisks. And at worst, dreadful blue dragons and ashworms bored colossal holes under the earth, collapsing any homes on a whim while forming the only hospitable places outside of the hot sun.
  
-Yet once upon a time, a few centuries ago, a faraway lord thought he saw the potential value of the place. Over by the Shining Sea, he commissioned an expedition of a group of displaced duergar who had been chased out of their mountainhomes by the Northmen and some holier-than-thou dwarves. The duergars’ task was simple–to excavate the desert for its minerals, gemstones, and any riches, and bring the profits back home. But the noble would learn the hard way what it meant to deal with duergar. They absconded with the money, and did indeed settle there, even attracting other duergar to their new home, but the ploy bankrupted the noble, who found himself absorbed into a rival home and forgotten by history. So, too, was his commission, which had since grown and thrived into the underground tunnel-city named Van Darkholme. And it is there that our hero, Spondulix of Van Darkholme, came to be.+Yet once upon a time, a few centuries ago, a faraway lord thought he saw the potential value of the place. Over by the Shining Sea, he commissioned an expedition of a group of displaced duergar who had been chased out of their mountainhomes by the Northmen and some holier-than-thou dwarves. The duergars’ task was simple–to excavate the desert for its minerals, gemstones, and any riches, and bring the profits back home. But the noble would learn the hard way what it meant to deal with duergar. They absconded with the money, and did indeed settle there, even attracting other duergar to their new home, but the ploy bankrupted the noble, who found himself absorbed into a rival home and forgotten by history. So, too, was his commission, which had since grown and thrived into the underground tunnel-city named Van Darkholme. And it is there that Spondulix of Van Darkholme came to be.
  
 Now the first forty-some years of his life are unremarkable. There is no need to tarry over how he came to be manager of the Great King’s Vault, collecting cheques signed by duergar labormasters to pay out daily wages to their charges. Nor will we belabor the point of his magical oddity–how the wizarding caste once tried to train him, seeing that he had the strange innate potential seen in sorcerers, warmages, or even runesmiths, but expelled him as an anomaly, an atrocity, a befuddlement, a beguiler, and a bewilderment to the magical arts and trained him no further. Now the first forty-some years of his life are unremarkable. There is no need to tarry over how he came to be manager of the Great King’s Vault, collecting cheques signed by duergar labormasters to pay out daily wages to their charges. Nor will we belabor the point of his magical oddity–how the wizarding caste once tried to train him, seeing that he had the strange innate potential seen in sorcerers, warmages, or even runesmiths, but expelled him as an anomaly, an atrocity, a befuddlement, a beguiler, and a bewilderment to the magical arts and trained him no further.
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 “No?” She didn’t understand what he was saying. “No?” She didn’t understand what he was saying.
  
-“I mean,” he continued, “Duergar don’t leave here. King Wilbur’s reigned long enough here and gives them decent enough lives that they don’t leave, even if they can. So no matter what, any coin that comes through here always comes back. After it’s left, the Zakarion coin would be spent on some ale, and that pub would be taxed, and the tax would come back here--right back to the Vault, every time. Even deserters and tax-avoiders get hunted down and their money goes right back into the system.”+“I mean,” he continued, “Duergar don’t leave here. King Wilbur’s reigned long enough here and gives them decent enough lives that they don’t leave, even if they can. So no matter what, any coin that comes through here always comes back. After it’s left, the Zakarion coin would be spent on some ale, and that pub would be taxed, and the tax would come back here–right back to the Vault, every time. Even deserters and tax-avoiders get hunted down and their money goes right back into the system.”
  
 He laughed. Hollowly. He laughed. Hollowly.
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 King Wilbur sat idly in his throne room, fiddling with his scepter and gazing at the symbol of Icele on the wall. He had made her the de facto religion of Van Darkholme about a century ago. His father served Fowgt primarily, but allowed other Overgods to be worshipped. Crafty Wilbur took this, and Icele specifically, into a more self-serving direction. The duergar had a propensity to drive themselves into hard labor until death. He would claim that she was displeased with the amount of lollygagging, and the lack of toil on the duergars’ part was why she did not grant them reprieve with her blessed cold breeze miles beneath the burning surface of the Al-Qashqan desert. And if this was blasphemous, then he was never affected. His clerics of Icele got spells daily, meaning she was pleased, while those of Fowgt were exiled as useless louts. His riches, and his waistline, swelled. And every so often, a cool breeze would waft through the tunnels of Van Darkholme, as if to praise them for a job well done. And so, strangely, King Wilbur came to genuinely worship Icele, for the Overgods worked in mysterious ways. Perhaps it was //she// who had manipulated //him// into being her conduit, and driving out the fellow Overgod Fowgt in the Overgods’ many petty rivalries, as Immotian had driven out Xel. King Wilbur did not know, but paid tribute to Icele all the same even when he thought this, preferring to stay on her good side. She kept his borders safe, his duergar in check, and his pockets lined. King Wilbur sat idly in his throne room, fiddling with his scepter and gazing at the symbol of Icele on the wall. He had made her the de facto religion of Van Darkholme about a century ago. His father served Fowgt primarily, but allowed other Overgods to be worshipped. Crafty Wilbur took this, and Icele specifically, into a more self-serving direction. The duergar had a propensity to drive themselves into hard labor until death. He would claim that she was displeased with the amount of lollygagging, and the lack of toil on the duergars’ part was why she did not grant them reprieve with her blessed cold breeze miles beneath the burning surface of the Al-Qashqan desert. And if this was blasphemous, then he was never affected. His clerics of Icele got spells daily, meaning she was pleased, while those of Fowgt were exiled as useless louts. His riches, and his waistline, swelled. And every so often, a cool breeze would waft through the tunnels of Van Darkholme, as if to praise them for a job well done. And so, strangely, King Wilbur came to genuinely worship Icele, for the Overgods worked in mysterious ways. Perhaps it was //she// who had manipulated //him// into being her conduit, and driving out the fellow Overgod Fowgt in the Overgods’ many petty rivalries, as Immotian had driven out Xel. King Wilbur did not know, but paid tribute to Icele all the same even when he thought this, preferring to stay on her good side. She kept his borders safe, his duergar in check, and his pockets lined.
  
-But tomorrow, the other, more secular facet to his financial success--Spondulix, the treasurer--was leaving under suspicious circumstances. He wrapped his hand around the scepter, which had been his father’s walking stick polished and remade to bear the symbol of Icele atop a golden orb with runes that spelled out “Van Darkholme.”+But tomorrow, the other, more secular facet to his financial success–Spondulix, the treasurer–was leaving under suspicious circumstances. He wrapped his hand around the scepter, which had been his father’s walking stick polished and remade to bear the symbol of Icele atop a golden orb with runes that spelled out “Van Darkholme.”
  
 He’d had him summoned under false pretenses today, to give him the "King’s Royal Blessing" before he went or some such drivel, but the truth was to see what trickery he’d been up to. No one made a fool of King Wilbur, and he thought himself besotted to have trusted such a mysteriously efficient worker until now. Whatever gold he’d squirreled away, he would collect, and send the treasurer to the racks or other terrible devices they’d had for deserters or raiders. He’d had him summoned under false pretenses today, to give him the "King’s Royal Blessing" before he went or some such drivel, but the truth was to see what trickery he’d been up to. No one made a fool of King Wilbur, and he thought himself besotted to have trusted such a mysteriously efficient worker until now. Whatever gold he’d squirreled away, he would collect, and send the treasurer to the racks or other terrible devices they’d had for deserters or raiders.
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 “I didn’t say anything! I thought he’d have someone tame, like Fowgt.” Roryn protested, to which Spondulix piped up: “We used to worship Fowgt!” which led Roryn to gesture toward Spondulix in an //I-told-you-so!// way. This carried on for the rest of the journey, and as scenery flew past Spondulix realized that he would probably get along with all the new people he might meet at Barrow’s Maw, if these three were any indication of what to expect on the Roll at large. He was happy to be out of the Vault, he was happy to be out of those tunnels, and he was happy to be headed towards the highly promising Barrow’s Maw. “I didn’t say anything! I thought he’d have someone tame, like Fowgt.” Roryn protested, to which Spondulix piped up: “We used to worship Fowgt!” which led Roryn to gesture toward Spondulix in an //I-told-you-so!// way. This carried on for the rest of the journey, and as scenery flew past Spondulix realized that he would probably get along with all the new people he might meet at Barrow’s Maw, if these three were any indication of what to expect on the Roll at large. He was happy to be out of the Vault, he was happy to be out of those tunnels, and he was happy to be headed towards the highly promising Barrow’s Maw.
-===== The Hammerfast Coins =====+===== The Currency of the Maw =====
  
-Immotian 31+Sitting in a tavern, Spondulix frowned at his entries into his self-titled Numismatist's Notebook: a repurposed spellbook he'd been using to monitor his findings. He'd been revising, rewriting, and using cantrips from a scroll to extract the ink from the page back into his inkpot. 
 + 
 +He certainly cared about the history of his coins, and made sure to note it. But he kept getting distracted. 
 + 
 +The history was relevant, and not uninteresting, to be sure. But at some point, there was only so much to be said about who was on each coin, what images were on the front and back, and what year they had gone into circulation. What he seemed to keep getting distracted by were the adventures that each coin had to reach him. That was somehow the most fascinating part. How many times had the Hammerfast coin exchanged hands before ending up in his? What historical figures held it before him? And where would they go after he died? 
 + 
 +He flipped the Hammerfast coin in his fingers. Placing it under the first page, he began to use a leaf-rubbing technique with a small bit of lead to get its imprint on the page. 
 + 
 +In spite of everything he'd written, the real currency of Barrow's Maw wasn't the coins or the trade goods of the empires filtering through. It was bodies. Bodies that came in all shapes and sizes, with Krangs, Eloens, Aragwyns, Shieldmasters, Mannies, Lukes, Mikes all milling through a busy town. And here was the epicenter: The Axe & Sickle, a tavern with a bulletin board out front where locals would post jobs for reward, and heroes would present calls to action for more adventurers to follow. 
 + 
 +Spondulix had led his own expedition shortly after arriving. He looked over at a waterclock over by the tavern wall; a fancy one with some magical trimmings that had dials with months and dates. Kalyun 11. By Icele, had it been that long? He looked back at the page. The neat design of the Hammerfast coin's two sides neatly stared back at him. 
 + 
 +It had been so long that many of the particulars escaped him by this point. He remembered Eloen–that's right, their name had been Eloen… Amenadiel? Amandel. That was it. He fumbled in his pack, looking for the scroll of his original posting. 
 + 
 +The paper had crumpled in his backpack, but still very legible: 
 + 
 +----
  
 //To whom it may concern:// //To whom it may concern://
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 -Eloen Amandel// -Eloen Amandel//
  
-Not one of the three undersigned names was done so in Dwarven Runic. It should not have surprised Spondulix, but it was the first demonstration he’d had that he was far, far away from Van Darkholme, and he would not be meeting other dwarves often, or anyone who saw them frequently enough to bother learning their runic script.+----
  
-Shieldmaster was the first to appear, and with a name like that he certainly did appear—he made himself fully known. Spondulix thought a city guardsman had been approaching him for loitering or illegally congregating, but when he stopped and down came a great shield with a CLANG, Spondulix understood clearly.+That had been the first indicator, he remembered, that he had been far from home. The undersigned names had all been in Shiner's Common–and to be fair, Spondulix himself had figured writing the announcement in Common would be the fastest route to acquiring allies for his first journey. The farmers from Eastford had had their own bulletin, and he'd misinterpreted their being robbed for a perceived pilfering of their coin collection. He supposed that had been naive of him. The world beyond Van Darkholme had been so vastly different, he did not think that straight greed would be carried over, but man did as man pleased, he supposed. Still, he remembered the excitement of when the three undersigned names had become flesh and blood. The first three people he met at Barrow's Maw.
  
-“You would be Shieldmaster, then?” He asked. The human(?) nodded. His armor covered everything on his person, to the point where Spondulix could not even deduce what he could be. A human? An orc, even? And above all—a bona fide knight as his first compatriot!+----
  
-He was already awestruck enough that he barely spotted a woman who seemed to be standing around waiting for someone. He looked her up and down until her hands, or lack thereof, caught his eyes. Where the woman’s hands should have been, two red claws with sharp talons hung. He thought for a moment, then spoke: “And you would be Scarlet, as I understand.”+//Shieldmaster was the first to appear, and with a name like that he certainly did appear—he made himself fully known. Spondulix thought a city guardsman had been approaching him for loitering or illegally congregating, but when he stopped and down came a great shield with a //CLANG//, Spondulix understood clearly.//
  
-Eloen was trickier to spot, but in the crowd an elf with glasses stood waiting. The duergar wizard caste was a mighty one, yes—but they often insisted that they were right to fear elves, for whom it was a favored kind of profession. But Spondulix had no such fear.+//“You would be Shieldmaster, then?” He asked. The human(?) nodded. His armor covered everything on his person, to the point where Spondulix could not even deduce what he could be. A human? An orc, even? And above all—a bona fide //knight// as his first compatriot!//
  
-“A fellow spellcaster!” He crowed. “And where is your wizardly hat?”+//He was already awestruck enough that he barely spotted a woman who seemed to be standing around waiting for someone. He looked her up and down until her hands, or lack thereof, caught his eyes. Where the woman’s hands should have been, two red claws with sharp talons hung. He thought for a moment, then spoke: “And you would be Scarlet, as I understand.”//
  
-“I don’t have one,” The elf responded quizzically.+//Eloen was trickier to spot, but in the crowd an elf with glasses stood waiting. The duergar wizard caste was a mighty one, yes—but they often insisted that they were right to fear elves, for whom it was a favored kind of profession. But Spondulix had no such fear.//
  
-“Well, what kind of wizard doesn’t have a wizardly hat? I certainly have one.” He bluffed.+//“A fellow spellcaster!” He crowed. “And where is your wizardly hat?”//
  
-“I heard it’s where wizards store their extra spells,” gossiped the Shieldmaster to Scarlet.+//“I don’t have one,” The elf responded quizzically. //
  
-“Not so!” Spondulix swept off the hat with a flourish. “I use it to cover my bald spot in the sun.” Replacing it on his head, he asked the elf: “I presume you may be Eloen Amandel?”+//“Well, what kind of wizard doesn’t have a wizardly hat? I certainly have one.”//
  
-“Yes, I am.”+//“I heard it’s where wizards store their extra spells,” gossiped the Shieldmaster to Scarlet.//
  
-“Splendid. That is all of us then.” He declared. “So we are good to proceed to Eastford. ‘Twas where the farmers were hurting for help.”+//“Not so!” Spondulix swept off the hat with a flourish. “I simply use it to cover my bald spot in the sun.” Replacing it on his head, he asked the elf: “I presume you may be Eloen Amandel?”//
  
-“Right.” The titan called the Shieldmaster straightened and clanked as he observed the three of them. “So who’ll be the navigator, and the quartermaster?”+//“Yes, I am.”//
  
-Spondulix’s already pale skin turned a shade lighter. To his comfort, however, he saw that Eloen looked similarly flummoxed. He glanced over to Scarlet, who kindly seemed to catch on to that they were both still a bit wet behind the pointed ears.+//“Splendid. That is all of us then.” He declared, pulling his bulletin posting down and storing it haphazardly in his backpack. “So we are good to proceed to Eastford. ‘Twas where the farmers were hurting for help.”//
  
-“A navigator helps direct an expedition,” she explained. “Ideally, they should have some awareness of geography. If not that, then just some basic survival skills will help.”+//“Right.” The titan called the Shieldmaster straightened and clanked as he observed the three of them. “So who’ll be the navigator, and the quartermaster?”//
  
-“I know how to do that.” This Eloen offered, for which Spondulix was grateful. He had some know-how, but it was all theoretical.+//Spondulix’s already pale skin turned a shade lighter. To his comfort, however, he saw that Eloen looked similarly flummoxed. He glanced over to Scarlet, who kindly seemed to catch on to that they were both still a bit wet behind the pointed ears.//
  
-“And I can be the quartermaster. They handle the provisions, the lodgings, they hire the horses if need be, and they help divide the finances at the very end.” Scarlet said.+//“A navigator helps direct an expedition,” she explained. “Ideally, they should have some awareness of geography. If not that, then just some basic survival skills will help.”//
  
-“Then I’ll remain the leader,” Spondulix said, which seemed to brook no opposition from the one called Shieldmaster. The quartermaster seemed to be a good position for him next time, actually—if it wasn’t too dissimilar from his job back at the Great King’s Vault. The bulletin board they stood under had many jobs, and Spondulix made his own listing knowing very little. Next time, he would join an outing and know what to do; but for now, he studied Scarlet closely, who took point.+//“I know how to do that.” This Eloen offered, for which Spondulix was grateful. He had some know-how, but it was all theoretical.//
  
-“Right. How far away is it?”+//“And I can be the quartermaster. They handle the provisions, the lodgings, they hire the horses if need be, and they help divide the finances at the very end.” Scarlet said, for which Spondulix was grateful.//
  
-Eloen gestured to a rough map nearby—a woodcarving with various pins to help adventurers orient themselves.+//“Then I’ll remain the leader,” Spondulix said, which seemed to brook no opposition from the one called Shieldmaster. The quartermaster seemed to be a good position for him next time, actually—if it wasn’t too dissimilar from his job back at the Great King’s Vault. The bulletin board they stood under had many jobs, and Spondulix made his own listing knowing very little. Next time, he would join an outing and know what to do; but for now, he studied Scarlet closely, who took point.//
  
-“North,” they explained. “A ways to the east first; we’ll come through a small plot of farmland, New Fairfield, where we might ask for shortcuts. But we’ll be in the Direwoods for a fair while.”+//“Right. How far away is it?”//
  
-“Enough so we’ll need horses?” Scarlet asked. //Horses!// Spondulix was in awe. Already this sounded so much more official.+//Eloen gestured to a rough map nearby—a woodcarving divided into hexes, with various pins to help adventurers orient themselves. //
  
-“Horses may be expensive.” Shieldmaster warned.+//“North,” they explained. “A ways to the east first; we’ll come through a small plot of farmland, New Fairfield, where we might ask for shortcuts. But we’ll be in the Direwoods for a fair while.”//
  
-“That’s true.” Scarlet tutted, with hands—claws—on hips. “And with the villagers already paying so little, it would help us to //earn// some money.”+//“Enough so we’ll need horses?” Scarlet asked. //Horses!// Spondulix was in awe. Already this sounded so much more official.//
  
-“True,” Shieldmaster said.+//“Horses may be expensive.” Shieldmaster warned.//
  
-This seemed like a good place to get a word in edgewise as the leader. “Then,” Spondulix said, “I think Eloen could provide us with a heading, whenever they see fit.”+//“That’s true.” Scarlet tutted, with hands—claws—on hips. “And with the villagers already paying so little, it would help us to earn some money.” //
  
-Eloen nodded, looked out into the road, then started out ahead, leaving the others walking or clanking behind. The elf walked faster than they did, leading Eloen to cut their pace a little as they ventured out of Ohm Basin and into the Direwoods. But as the navigator, this was fine; it was probably best that they take point.+//“True,” Shieldmaster said. //
  
-At one early stretch of their adventure, the elf kept the rest of the party held back by holding up an arm.+//This seemed like a good place to get a word in edgewise as the leader. “Then,” Spondulix said, “I think Eloen could provide us with a heading, whenever they see fit.”//
  
-“Look.” Pointing straight ahead, they saw a dozing figure leaning against a tree. Spondulix didn’t think anything of it initially, at first thinking Eloen meant to assist the fellow, until he noted what was actually being pointed out—the stranger had an extra set of limbs, four arms total.+//Eloen nodded, looked out into the road, then started out ahead, leaving the others walking–or clanking–behind.//
  
-“What do we do?” Eloen whispered.+----
  
-“Walk around. I don’t trust the amount of limbs it has. It should be less. Come along.” Scarlet said—herself possessing an odd pair of nieves, so it made Spondulix renew his pace doubly so. He was never quite sure what was and was not extraordinary in these parts.+From there, he remembered very little, although his memory picked up more towards the end. At one point, he remembered that Eloen had spotted a four-armed man in the woods, which Miss Scarlet had seemingly mistrusted. It was a peculiar lesson; one that told him that it was never clear what exactly was or wasn't unnatural in the world beyond Van Darkholme. 
 + 
 +Spondulix twirled the quill absently in his fingers, the notebook before him lost as he was miles away, still remembering his first adventure months ago… 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +//Spondulix gripped his morningstar and held one hand aloft, ready to cast more spells. Shieldmaster had already decimated many of the Eastford-harrassing goblins they'd been hunting until that point, although he'd helped draw attention away from the others to help set up an ambush. His robes were still wet from when he'd impersonated a sahuagin crawling out to attack the goblins.// 
 + 
 +//Yet this time, Scarlet has hefted up an enormous table she had found in one of the earlier rooms, and propped it up against the door–one they'd spotted had goblins inside from a porthole outside of the room.// //What would she do?// 
 + 
 +//And to Spondulix's astonishment… she simply knocked.// 
 + 
 +//"Who is it?" One of the goblins inside snarled.// 
 + 
 +//Scarlet knocked again.// 
 + 
 +//"What's going on out there? Who's knocking?"// 
 + 
 +//Scarlet knocked again.// 
 + 
 +//"Identify yourself! We're not going to open the door unless you tell us what you want!"// 
 + 
 +//Scarlet knocked again.// 
 + 
 +//The other three heard chairs scraping, one muttering that he was always made to open the door, some whispered bickering, and no sooner had one of the nasty goblins opened the door when Scarlet braced herself and careened through the opened portal to flatten the loathsome goblins on the other side, scattering the table of playing cards they had been playing with until that moment. Shieldmaster, Spondulix and Eloen followed in that order–Eloen cracking off wizardly magic, Shieldmaster challenging goblins to single combat and defeating them handily, and Spondulix taking out two goblins' heads with his morningstar. All the while, Scarlet swung her table violently into the shocked goblins, creating splinters that flaked off with every impact. She would repeat the trick twice more with every room to follow, all until they reached the final room.// 
 + 
 +//A hobgoblin named Krig, which they had surmised from the goblins scurrying to warn him of their arrival, was prepared for Scarlet's trick, and so they all had to enter his small room normally. Shieldmaster challenged the loathsome beast to a duel, when Eloen–who had been struggling with their spells–fired off a spell that made Krig lose his grip on his blade. Shieldmaster and Scarlet wasted no time in exploiting the opening, descending upon him like a pair of scissors, flattening him between shield and table.// 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +//And yet that wasn't the end of it//, Spondulix remembered. The goblins had been squatting on the tomb, and riches, of a dwarven folk hero by the name of St. Arthrak Shadowhammer, whose surname had come from his goblin-slaying warhammer he'd obtained in a duel with a devil. And further below, there were many crypts–flooded, filled with undead, and a strange creature with tentacles. They took the riches of the tomb–three paintings, a multitude of coins, and the weapons and armor of the goblins–and absconded. But the mystery of the tomb still haunted Spondulix frequently. 
 + 
 +He looked back down to his notebook. The imprints of the coins stared back. 
 + 
 +And suddenly, he knew what to write. 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +//ᚦᛖ•ᚾᚢᛗᛁᛉᛗᚨᛏᛁᛊᛏᛊ•ᚾᛟᛏᛒᚢᚲ\\ 
 +Immotian 31\\ 
 +**ENTRY: **The Hammerfast Coin\\ 
 +**Obverse: **Profile shot of dwarf. Likely St. Arthrak Shadowhammer\\ 
 +**Reverse: **Dwarven city of some kind\\ 
 +**Additional notes: **Runes along the edges// 
 + 
 +//Recovered from some squatter goblins occupying a sunken dwarven stronghold that had a statue of St. Arthrak as a centerpiece. The goblins had been menacing a local populace for their coin collection. Monsters! // 
 + 
 +//Shieldmaster proved a worthy ally, bashing them mercilessly while in full plate, and the ingenious Scarlet would heft a table she would use to plow into them all while tricking them over and over into opening the door. // 
 + 
 +//Eloen Amandel (an elven wizard with glasses, but no witchly hat?) and I would stay at a safe distance, but they handily zapped one into submission and took care of another with a bow and arrow. My morningstar got a bit of a workout too, taking off goblin heads neatly.// 
 + 
 +//Near the end, we fought a hobgoblin brute named Krig. The shining star was Eloen, who slipped his sword out of his grasp like it had been covered in butter, while Scarlet and Shieldmaster took care of the rest.// 
 + 
 +//The locals spared some of their coin collection as well, including a WOOD COIN(!) which was a lucky find so early in my career. // 
 + 
 +//There are unknown depths below with a fair bit of platinum which would help round out the collection in full, but we found them flooded and, based on interrogating some of the goblins, we learned that the undead and some tentacular spectacular being are defending that treasure. I didn't take one step further down a corridor where all I could find was an ominous crypt. We will need to return with snorkels, an aquatic elf, a cleric, or an aquatic cleric.// 
 + 
 +//St. Arthrak also won his fabled shadowhammer in a duel with a devil, and is especially talented at taking out goblins with it. Would have made our work even easier. (Ironic that they squatted in a place that had apparently been so menacing to them!) I wonder if it is in those crypts?// 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +That was the story that mattered to him. The journey the coin had taken to meet him, and the journey he'd undertaken to meet the coin. Cracking his wrist, he read, and reread the entry, again and again, and realized he was finally satisfied. 
 + 
 +Was it that simple? Had he really been overthinking it this whole time? 
 + 
 +He looked at the Rashari Highlands coin. Swirling his pen in the inkpot once more, he continued: 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +//ᚦᛖ•ᚾᚢᛗᛁᛉᛗᚨᛏᛁᛊᛏᛊ•ᚾᛟᛏᛒᚢᚲ\\ 
 +Enji 51\\ 
 +**ENTRY: **Rashari Highland Coin\\ 
 +**Obverse: **Two arms, pulling chains apart that break dramatically.\\ 
 +**Reverse:** Small topographic map of the Highlands// 
 + 
 +//Not my only haul this time! Krang, a half-ogre who bade us all accompany him to a 'Gauntlet of Glory', completed my collection of Zakarion Coins. (Save for a Platinum.) Ohm's Basin continues to be a diverse wonder. I reconvened with Miss Scarlet, who had a newer, fancier table to wreak havoc with for one. A fellow dwarf named Manwawynn 'Manny' Mountainmail where there as well. Yanko challenged me to a game of dice, but I didn't fancy my chances of losing coin just yet. And Shade Blackwall and I were birds of a feather. He was a half-orc who liked his animals and his pelts, but helped look for traps with me all the same.// 
 + 
 +//Where was I? Oh right, the coin. We obtained some silvers from a group of ruffians called the Vipers–cruel Rashari who had overtaken Brutal Mike's compound under the orders of a foolhardy tool by the name of Vicious Luke. Krang was unphased though, seeing it as an opportunity to get the glory he sought all the same, vivisecting entirely too many of the Vipers and their literal pet vipers, as well as krenshars and a dire weasel at one point. Shade had a particularly heroic moment where in spite of his fear of the krenshars, he fired an arrow clean through one and took it out! Capital work, were it not for a cruel monk who knocked him out from behind. Manny was there for the assist in the end, but it was a frightening moment.// 
 + 
 +//Passing some riddles against a sphynx, concerning a Mad Mage I have not met yet, we reached Vicious Luke himself. Aragwyn Moonshadow, an elven druid, and her lovely owl, Archimedes, entangled him in vines and fired a bow loaned by Shade and took care of Luke handily! // 
 + 
 +//Brutal Mike arrived ere the end to witness our help taking back his compound, and gave us all headbands matching his for our effort.// 
 + 
 +//All in all, a truly 'righteous' excursion!// 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +He grinned at his final appraisal, running a thumb underneath the headband he currently sported beneath his red pointed hat. He had met a variety of good friends then, and him and Scarlet were just a smaller part of a larger miniature army taking back the compound, but it had been good to see her again. And Brutal Mike! In spite of such a name, he was an immensely charismatic hero; not the kind to rest on his laurels, but the kind of person who liked seeing those around him get stronger. Spondulix had been disappointed they did not spend as much time with him, as Krang's call to action had arguably been in service of doing so. Not to mention the fear of watching Shade get wounded by the cheap-shot monk from behind and go down. He assumed if Brutal Mike had been there, the environment would have been safer, or he might have pulled his punches, perhaps. 
 + 
 +In the end, Aragwyn had been the star of the show. The dire weasel had been a particularly frightening monstrosity, but thanks to Spondulix's Color Spray, he'd managed to stun it long enough for Aragwyn to take it down with Shade's shortbow. Similarly, when Vicious Luke had unleashed two vipers, he'd kept them busy with the others while Aragwyn took down Luke himself. Which was not to neglect, of course, that Scarlet had entered the room in her characteristic way. 
 + 
 +Oh, damn it all! He looked back on his entry. He should have mentioned that Scarlet had commissioned a brand new fancy masterwork table just for battle! The original one at Hammerfast had been an improvised weapon. He considered erasing some parts to make room for the detail, but realized he'd undersold a lot of other points. Manwawynn Mountainmail, the cleric; Yanko, who'd challenged him to a game of dice; Shade Blackwall, a half-orc who loved his pet dogs and his donkey… and Krang of Zakarion, of course, accompanied by his bagpipe playing bard and following orders from a wizardly master. Of all of them, Spoondulix had the most questions for him, but in the span of mere seconds, he'd given him a Zakarion silver and copper to round out his collection save for a platinum, and he decided not to look a gift ogre in the mouth. 
 + 
 +Looking up, he saw some of the bar servers hanging up strings of lanterns and cutouts of small flames. 
 + 
 +"Freshen up your drink?" One of them asked as he watched, misinterpreting his staring as being an impertinent customer. 
 + 
 +"No, no. Well, yes." He said, seeing his drink was, in fact, empty. Was Sun Day((I know it's Sunday, like the day of the week, but I refuse to call it this. My mind refuses to compute it))  coming? He figured something like a solstice would have been last month, as they were already a week or so into Kalyun, but he never knew–it wasn't too fondly seen in the hot desert underground of Van Darkholme. He lifted his sundark goggles, rubbing his eyes. He'd been out of commission for far too long, trying to perfect his entries, overthink how he would go about them, but he'd lost entirely too much time. His collection had stagnated. When the server returned, he slid a gold with a silver's worth of a tip to him, then turned over to a new page. He had nothing to write–he simply wanted to relish in the idea that there soon would be. 
 + 
 +A new age was beginning, and he'd be at the forefront of it. He'd get every coin on the Roll or die trying–and still be immortalized with all the duergar heroes in Icele's bosom. He downed his drink in record time, then headed out to the bulletin board to seek his next fortune. 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +----
  
  
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