Furdwik the Guardian of Truth, Stowaway

Role

Chapter 2

The cart bumped and shook as it rambled down the back water road. Furdwik
languidly lounged in the back of it, surrounded by the mead barrels. Now and
again a bump would solicit a hiccup or low belch in between sips of his
ladle. Small splashes showered him from the open barrel, making him smell far
drunker than he was. He liked it that way, like his own little secret.

The caravan was returning from a remote village far to the southwest of
Galadon. They were traveling past the ruined keep, and headed for the path
through Spider Haunt. Not the safest, but the caravan was known for it's risk
taking in mercantile endeavors. Fastest and most lucrative, the only things
the caravan master really cared about.

From the back rode one of the guards to greet Furdwik. A curious fellow, a
bit older than Furdwik but had only come of his own once Furdwik joined the
group. He was always asking questions of the priestly nature and seemed to
find some solace in Furdwik's answers.

"Hoy there Furdwik. Getting into the barrels again eh?"

With a sly grin and a hiccup Furdwik responded affirmatively.

"Why do you drink so much Chap?" They called him Chap, a shortened namesake
of his position. "Isn't that against the Code or somethin? Ain't you supposed
to act right and sharp?"

"Well friend, " Furdwik explained with a drunken slur "there ain't no harm in
keeping the spirits up, eh. Make you feel dam... er that is, makes you feel
confident don't it? Besides, the Code says you got to act fair, doesn't say
anythin' about well-mannered or sharp. Not to mention..."

The guard was taken aback as Furdwik's eyes suddenly became alert. The drunk
chaplain sprang to his feet, a halberd seeming to appear from no where
(Furdwik had it hidden beside the barrels). An instant later alarms started
to spring up along the caravan as the skittering sound of spiders was heard
through the brush, the whisper of death as the spiders silently descended
from the trees, and the electric buzz that accompanies the phasing of some
spiders. With a shout, Furdwik rallied the guards and called for formations as
if he had never drank a sip of mead.

"Today we ride the storm, men! Now, HOLD th...

Role

Chapter 1

Furdwik was born in Galadon and raised by a priest serving at the Temple of
Light. He was summarily forced to tend the temple himself as a novitiate in
his early years. Mischief, however, was something he was quite fond of. Much
of his duties were left untended and he simply didn't show for studies that
did not involve some grand hero of the light or the low level training given
to the Temple by Galadon's paladin guild. Despite his lack of attention and
time spent in punishment for sneaking wine from the cellars, he managed to
learn the bulk of the Temple's minor prayers and sacraments.

Barely a day passed that he did not think of some way to leave the Temple and
manage to fend for himself. After all, the duties of a novice aren't much use
beyond the walls of the temple. He did train hard with the staff however, and
hoped his natural talent with it would find him a life of adventure.

Finally, shortly after turning fourteen, an opportunity presented itself. A
merchant's caravan on its way to Galadon had sustained some heavy losses and
was looking to replace its guards. Apparently they often found themselves in
tight situations due to their dangerous, but lucrative, trade route. At first
the caravan master did not approve of one so young, but Furdwik agreed to not
only work as guard but chaplain. Not to mention his willingness to work only
for two shares of rations. One for himself, and one to be given in charity.
Mischievous and lackadaisical perhaps, but Furdwik was still a man with a
kind heart and lofty morals.

Two years he served on the caravan, doing his best to inspire his fellows
through righteous prayer and combat ability. Helping in their spiritual
dilemmas and fostering his natural affinity for raising the morale of those
around him. He matured greatly in those years, though he holds to the
whimsical nature of his childhood.

It's time for him to move on from that life, the caravan's travels not quite
enough to satiate his wanderlust. In the course of his employment he heard of
the goddess Neltouda. Captain of the high seas and patron of adventurers. His
first quest will be to gain her favor and a spot on her crew.

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