# Tales of the Knife's Edge Knights



## Tim C DM (Aug 27, 2003)

“Pretty, isn’t she, Tobel?” the handsome young man sitting at the back table of the Knife’s Edge says. He pointed to a ravishing beauty walking up to the bar. The petite brunette had the dusky skin of the southern lands, her long black hair spilling over a white woolen sweater.  “A swords woman, I see. I am intrigued. Gar,” he said over his shoulder to a table full of warriors, “have her join me.” A bear of a man stands up quickly, leaving a giant ax leaning on the table and nods to the man. 

“Yes, Sir.” He answers his employer and the hulking barbarian shuffles through the crowd to approach the woman. He leaves his two companions tearing into a loaf of black bread and finishing off the third pitcher of ale at the table. All three look like members of the Blue Bear Tribe, barbarians to outsiders. The tribe livs in the wooded foothills north of the River Rauvin. They are semi-nomadic now, herded into a small patch of land by the growth of the ‘civilized’ settlements. The tribe hunts and fishes the areas around their ancient burial mounds, and many take work as caravan guards or mercenaries along the trade rout.

The handsome man’s diner companion turns his small head revealing that he is a Hin, Halfling to the ignorant, “True. Very pretty. And looks like you are correct, Jartol, she has steel at her hip. Much too pretty to be a warrior me thinks.” Tobel, the Hin, takes a swig of his apple cider and stuffs another piece of lamb in his mouth. “Don’t think it is right to have the beast fetching your entertainment. His stench may scare her away.” He says with a glance at the barbarian and his well worn hide armor. 

“Could be you, my friend.”

“I’m your partner, friend, not your errand boy.” The Hin finishes as Gar reaches the bar. The woman has ordered a drink and stands with her hand on her hip. She wears new leather riding pants and high boots, a small satchel slung over one shoulder and a thin rapier on her belt. She turns with grace as if she sensed the barbarian’s approach.

“Hello,” she coos “I was just getting a drink.” The beauty raises her sculpted eyebrow and smiles at the dark haired barbarian. His hair is almost as dark as hers but his bright blue eyes are a stark contrast to her deep brown. 

The barkeep coughs softly and sets the wineglass in front of the woman, holding up three fingers indicating the price of the drink. 

“Uh, miss,” the barbarian mumbles, “Jartol of Dagger, uh, Daggerford requests your, uh, you come over.”

Sensing his discomfort, she lays her hand on his and says “I would be delighted…”. She lets her words hang in the air until the man catches on and fishes three silvers from a small pouch at his belt. He drops them on the bar and turns to return to his table. “Aren’t you sweet, sir.” She flirts and follows him to the back of the inn.

Gar takes his seat amongst loud guffaws from his two buddies, his face flushed with embarrassment. The woman approaches the table and Tobel jumps up to offer his seat next to Jartol. The young man does not rise but gestures to the empty seat with his ring endowed hand. The dark swords woman takes a seat and crosses her legs, sipping her wine and smiling at the obviously wealthy young man. “Easy mark.” She thinks to herself.

“Jartol of Daggerford.” Introduces himself , ignoring his Hin friend.

“And Tobel Ashcroft, my lady.”

“Pleasure, gentlemen. Had I known this town had such charming young gentlemen, I would have arrived sooner.” The trio engage in light conversation that is soon lost in the din from the crowded inn. They can pick up only pieces of the conversation from the next table, occupied by a young man and an exotic Wood Elf woman.

“Two days. Three at the most,” the man says to the Elf across the small table near a side door in the corner of the tap room. “Large caravan left today but I want to find one of the independent traders. Someone with coin to spare for a safe delivery. No more guarding barrels of cider for coppers.” The young man has seen maybe twenty-five winters but he is well tanned and has a long scar on the side of his face. Not ugly, but rugged. Strangely he wears a rabbit skin hat despite the heat from the crown and large fireplace. Even with mid-autumn approaching, the area has not seen a frost. 

The Elf woman’s foot rests on one of the two traveling packs stacked against the wall, a long bow rests against a shield within reach of the table. She brushes a strand of stray hair from her angular face and replies “Loki, two behind you, with the busty chippy. Svetlik.” she says. Her slender form shows strong muscles under soft leathers. A short sword lays in its scabbard on the table next to the man’s battle axe. 

The warrior turns in his seat, the sound of his chainmail grating on the wooden seat. “Chippy! Now Rina, you don’t even know her. And I don’t want to know what a Svetlik is.” He chuckles wondering if his Elven friend is a keen judge of character or just jealous. Moments before, she had been the object of all eyes in the room. “They may have a contract. He shows his money all around. Another caravan was attacked today, few miles east of town. Drove off the bandits but lost four men and two wagons burned. Doesn’t sound like bandits to me. Why burn the wagons?”

As if on cue, there is a scream from outside and a man comes barging in the door. “Kobolds!” he yells before felling face first onto the table, a bolt in his back. The place breaks out in chaos as steel is drawn. There is a crash of tables and chairs as the stout of heart make for the doors to face any attackers. There is also the sound of breaking glass and squeaking wood as the more cautious take to the stairs to the second floor. More screams come from outside along with shouts of alarm in a dozen languages, human and otherwise. 

As soon as the door burst open, Thandie was on her feet, rapier at the ready. She slides through the crown to flank the door, wisely allowing others to flow past her into the unknown. She catches a glimpse of a slender Elven woman carrying a bow slipping out the door followed by a tall young man with axe and shield. She files out last, trailing the three barbarians as they shield the handsome human and his Hin friend. In the confusion, she slips her hand into the man’s belt, quickly tucking her ill gotten coins into her boot.

The scene outside is just as chaotic. People run seemingly randomly as wagons grown and horses stampede. Several trees in the orchard behind the inn are already on fire as a torch sails through the air onto the roof of the inn. The thatch catches quickly as a second flaming torch crashes through a window on the second floor. Between the half-moon and the light from the fires, half a dozen creatures can be seen arrayed along the low wall in the orchard. Two carry torches while the rest are firing crossbow bolts into the emerging customers. The screams from the front of the building indicate a similar attack from that side. Already four bodies lie in the mud and two other wounded have crawled behind a stack of fire wood. Most of the customers have fled towards the center of town leaving only a mixed crew of less than a dozen to fend off the attack. 

Hearing the screams of the dying from the fires on the second floor, Loki takes command of the assembled defenders and they enter battle.


This is the opening scene from a GURPS fantasy game. I have been a D&D player for 18 years but recently read the GURPS rules. Very detailed combat and lots of ways to bring out character traits.  I am using a modified Forgotten Realms world with the fictional Dutchy of Netherdale. The players start in the town of Arbordale. The town has been plagued by raids on caravans and farms.

The cast:
Thandie- human, female, swashbuckling thief- addicted to opium
Gar- human, male, barbarian fighter, bodyguard- simpleton
Tobel, halfling, male, sorcerer, specializes in fire spells- has epilepsy, must roll when entering a stressful situation
Loki- human, male, fighter, former military man, caravan guard- was scalped and left for dead
Rina- elf, female, ranger, scout- racist, bow expert

NPC:
Jartol- human, male, merchant- vain, very wealthy


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