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Barome's Journal

the journal of Barome Revelstoke, Shadow Guardian

Davor the 16th, 1329

Barome Revelstoke was born on Trivor 27, 1180 to Jastone Stoker and Malathea Brasen. His parents were great warriors until their tribe was overrun by thousands of ograns in 1201. His father lost his life giving his mother a greater chance of escape with their child. Tales are still told of Jastone’s bravery, courage, and ferocity during the massacre of the Desert Elf tribe on that day. Although his mother was mortally wounded she was able to outrun and lose the pursuing ogran she nearly made it to a neighboring tribe even though their tribes had been disputing over water rights she knew her son would be safe. A day and a half later he was found by a patrol hanging onto his mother and crying for vengeance from the gods. He was taken in and raised collectively by the other tribe. (It takes a village to raise a child).

He has lived and worked with the tribe his whole life taking advantage of every opportunity to training with all he could. Mostly he has trained with Fighters and Rangers, although has trained with clerics, rogues, monks and paladins. Letting every bit of training sink in as much as it could, hoping that some things might sink in later. He trained on everything he from the mundane to the exotic, not everything made sense but he figured time would help him understand his teachings.

Barome also known to some as the orc slayer, a member of an elite elven anti-ogran attack force who was known for their great heroism. This attack force scouted and tracked the ogran forces not only keeping tabs on all their movements but making surgical strikes in order to keep them off balance and distracted from their goals. These attack squads worked in members of 6, 1 Scout, 1 Runner, 1 Squad Leader, 1 Healer, and 2 Main force attackers. These teams worked very well together and were very self sustaining. They could survive on what was available for months at a time. Barome the killer of many orcs has broken up his silhouette by tattooing lines in patterns on himself. The pattern is pretty much standard but many hash marks have been added to keep track each kill of an ogran (32 administered death blows). After their last mission the squad and the force was disbanded and brought back for home defenses. He believed that he could still do good as a member of one of these squads it is his mission in life to make the ogran wish they had never messed with the desert elves in the first place.

The nature of friends is fleeting. Not making any true friendships because in the heat of battle anything can happen. He cannot protect everyone all though he has been known to place others before himself his ultimate goal has been survival. His equipment is his lifeline, therefore these items are treated like pure adamantium, with Mitrhil, and silver highlights.

After the breaking of his unit and the little support that was given him he collected all the spoils he had gathered after many small campaigns traded it all in and bought his camel and only friend. He and is constant companion traveled up and down the Galanus river patrolling it and being its silent protector finding bandits of any race particularly ogran. Not many people saw him for more than a minute at a time because his tactics were simple. He would leave his friend in an out of the way area and walk alone if he heard of bandits or wrong doers in the area he would do the best he could to track them done have more failure then success he would on occasion find them and then deter their actions by remaining at a distance creeping up on them and letting their horses loose at night. If he caught them attacking someone he would remain at a distance and fire arrow at them at his maximum range in order to give the people being attacked a fair chance to escape or defend themselves. He would then go back and bury the dead giving them their last rights and sending their souls to Galanus. He would of course remove any valuables they had although this seems cold-hearted what good is their gold and supplies going to do them now. He would take what he didn’t need into the city and trade the goods out, resupply and fix equipment.

On his last trip to the city he went to have his saddle bags repaired when all hell broke loose. The church bells went off all of them, and city began to huddle in the common square were urgent news was sure to be announced. Upon reaching the square the sheriff was preparing his announcement. The ogran had broken through onside of the great walls of mountains that protected by the Stonehelm clan of dwarfs. Roc riders had already been spotted far south. Barome waited around hoping the sheriff would be sending out a patrol, a task force or something impressive in order to combat the ogran. He was noticed by the sheriff as he was walking up. He was simple asked if he was against the ogran. and his reply was simple. Any where they are he would be there to kill them. The sheriff said that is good and asked him to wait. He also talked to a silly looking dwarf giving him instructions to get his carriage and meet back at the steps of the temple of Galgiran.

The Dwarf went to make his preparation and Barome followed to make sure the Dwarf knew what he was doing. The completed their task within a short time and returned. They waited for awhile for the sheriff to return but he didn’t, apparently the dwarf knew more of what was going on the Barome. He few clerics came out carrying a small bet apparently heavy covered object. The dwarf made a complaint and ask for something to put it in. One of the clerics ran back in side and came out the a cupboard full of dishes nearly dumping it over with its contents still inside. The other cleric helped clear the contents and the artifact or whatever it was carefully placed inside the cupboard and then in the carriage. The had two escorting hippotauns with one handler and six riders each. This object most be fairly important if such heavy guarded was emphasized Barome felt very confident that there would be action to follow.

Apparently Barome had been set up to guard this dwarf and the artifact not an completely unpleasant sounding task considering the manpower being sent there is always bound to be action. Well after half a day of travel watching the dwarf read a silly book, (as if life's answers were in a book), and barely paying attention to the road ahead of him. They arrived at the Hold/Castle/Keep of the Bishop and the Baron where a clean-shaven female dwarf met them. She was directing traffic very efficiently. The two dwarves spoke to each other the and after a few minutes they were led to see the Baron/Bishop. BB and the Dwarf talked for abit and then they looked at the Elf and using the Elf tongue the Dwarf asked if I could carry the artifact to the repository. Sure, was what he though to himself I am curious as to see what was going on. BB then said some funny dwarven chant and his strength seemed to increase, and the load of the heavy artifact seemed much lighter. As they were escorted by some unusual looking dwarfs with very exotically shaped armor. They moved quickly through the corridors. The wall told a story as they walked as they cam to the end of the last corridor they came across a room the seemed to be dark. Barome pulled out a small rod that glowed unnaturally.

gaeleth/stories/barome_s_journal.txt · Last modified: 2021/09/28 15:50 (external edit)