A Dwilight Adventure/Part 2

Roleplay from Wrogram

The stench of the beast was worse than the most crowded alleyways of Springdale on a hot summer day. Wrogam fought the bile rising up in his throat. For reasons that seemed increasingly obvious, the stories had never mentioned anything about this. When the bards sang it was about the battles between heroes and great fiends, the ancient treasures, the Kings and hidden lineages. But there hadn't been any ancient treasurers or Kings yet for Wrogam. And slaying the creatures was never the end of his work. So here he was, trying to cut a tusk out of a rotting corpse with a knife, while flies swarmed over both of them. There was already a handful of blood stained trophies taken from the rest of the pack piled by the entrance to what had been their lair. Typically, even though he grew tireder and the blade duller with each tusk, the smell lost none of its potency. A voice whispered inside his head that he could just smash this last one out with a rock. But even though he’d only left Springdale a few weeks ago, Wrogam already knew better than that. The bailiffs and seneschals would deny you the bounty you deserved on any excuse they could find. So he swallowed hard, gritted his teeth and went back to sawing away. Because if his twenty years had taught Wrogam anything, it was that without silvers, you wouldn’t last long.

Wrogram