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1001 Tales of Qalabash Baram

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I am Qalabash Baram, last of the Rundaine-Rel. Raised by the Beggar King of Cor in the withered heart of Rhat'matanis, plucked from those dust-choked streets by Olag Rel, the Ogre Prince, I have wandered shore to shore of the Sea of Grass and learned the tongue of the thunder-hoof Kholani. I have a thousand and one tales and none are mine own.

But I mean to change that!


The Ringling AffairEdit

Recruitment; Game Thread
Ah, inauspicious beginnings! I shall, of course, return to that theme but first... Upon hearing the reputation of that oddly named inn, the Dunn Wright, I made my progress to that establishment and took up the acquaintance of several others with similar intentions to make their fortune and acquire the golden aura of glory by means of singular skill. Wine flowed freely, foods fantastique were devoured, several came and several went, but by the end four remained: the ferocious gnome and poor, cursed healer, Mystie Thissiledew, the former pit fighter, Uff, the young, quiet girl, Emily Halten and her otherworldly, and if truth be told, fear-inducing Mother, and my own self.

Approached we were by Master Barton Ringling with a simple job for us: accompany him to acquire a certain box and escort him and said box to his home. Questions were asked (though not the right ones, apparently) and answered and we set out for Master Ringling's contact, one Dramm Marley. Negotiations immediately fell apart when Marley demanded double his fee and he and his minion's mistook our refusal and subsequent attempts at bargaining as the crassest belligerence.

A scuffle broke out and we were forced to defend ourselves against Marley and his ruffians. In the end, one of Marley's minions fled, another went for an unplanned swim in the bay, the third collapsed from a series of minor wounds he received, and Marley himself was knocked unconscious.

The box was ours for the taking, and though I questioned the ethics of such a course of action I was eventually persuaded. Carrying the box across a bridge into Ringling's home district we were stopped by a squad of White Cloaks who demanded we surrender the box and its illegal contents. This, of course, was a surprise to all of us except the duplicitous Ringling who fled the scene. We assured the guard of our cooperation, surrendered the box and led them to Marley with no small amount of embarrassment and explanations en route.

Ringling did not escape justice and we were rewarded for our small part. An inauspicious beginning, to be duped in one's first employment and yet it was a beginning. The next step can only be upwards.

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