Bullsung Saga: AE's RPG

I would like your finest, lightest, metal armor preferably mithril that will give me great protection and great flexiblity and it will not encumber or weigh me down or slow me down in any way whatsoever and it must be well oiled to prevent rust and to make it almost silent and it must be elvish style and it must be well enameled in bronze green and gold like autumn leaves and it must be silver washed, and the would do the wealthiest of Elf kings proud. The pieces will be composed of clawed sabatons, greaves with with spiked poleyns, a cuirass, tassets, a codpiece, spiked guantlets, vambraces with spiked couters, pauldrons with a stop rib a gorget, and a fine kingly helm with a star shaped jewel, Gildor pulled one out of his pocket, On the forhead and it should look something like this Gildor pulled two disgrams out of his pocket one showed armor from the days when the fought at mordor another showed elvish armor from helms deep, and the greavesand vambraces must have special sheaths formy knives, more thing do you have armor that will fit an elf thats over seven feet tall? If you can get all that done today to the letter with no corner cutting whatsoever I will pay Fourty gold coins and fifty jewels and two pounds of mithril and I will let you keep the diagrams they have several commentary's on metal working that contain valubule information and will give you metal working potions to help make the metal superior and too speed up the process, and I will give you if you can get all that done today and I will also tell you the ingredients of the potions and where to find the ingredients          

"We will do the best we can, sire!," said the tradesman, looking at the diagrams. I myself will run to my workshop and start on the project. It will takes us at least three day, maybe four, if you allow us to substitute some local materials for the elven ones. If this is not of your liking, we can send a courier to find the right materials, but that may take him a few weeks.

"In the mean time, let me offer you this fine chain mail that we have that will fit you, on loan. It is much lighter than the one you have, and it will offer you better protection. We will also repair your current chain mail. All what we need is for you to leave us a deposit the 40 pieces of gold, to get some materials, and the rest of the payment will be given when we deliver you your fine armor."

You all walked away, after and exchanging chain mail and giving the deposit, and stood outside of the market. It was time time to take a vote on whether the heroes will go towards the ford through the woods or visit the monastery.

Sarakh shrugged. "Possibly. From a tactical standpoint, it would be unwise, but I do not think we will expressly need combat ability to get into Bullsung lands. For my part, I vote for the Abbey, however."

His friends followed him, since they were not going to abandon Gildor. They walked for an hour through the path outside of the market on its north side. After about an hour of walking through a nice meadow, they reached the entrance of the forest. Even though it was already noon by now, the great canopies of the trees made it very shady.

"That Ralph seemed to have talked up too much the dangers of the forest. It seems that there is no one around, and with luck we will soon reach the river and cross to reach the Bullsung."


As these words were spoken, the group of heroes saw another group of men ahead of them, walking slower than they were. They followed the narrow and winding path east, until they saw a group of 10 strangers, all wearing crosses, either as pendants or on their cloths. Two of them wore armor; the rest just walked in robes. As the party got closer to them, they could hear the strangers reciting aloud some Christian prayers.

The heroes got close enough to greet them. What did they do and how do they approach the strangers?

Sarakh set his Halberd down carefully, then walked to about twenty feet away from the priests and called out. "Hail! May I speak to you, sirs?"

Sarakh, betraying no trepidation, bowed slightly. "We have a great respect for God, milord. Currently, we are trying to enter Bullsung lands--they have done great harm to us, and possibly even more to our friends, and we wish to settle accounts with them...but we know of no way in without paying a toll or vicious combat, and to kill without need is a sin against our Savior. Do you know of any other way inside their lands?"

"Hold on" Aelfgifu said, "what tree exactly were you planning to cut down? I sure do hope it is not the Great Oak in the Sacred Grove that houses the spirits of my ancestors..."

Sarakh surveyed the priest, then began speaking carefully. "Sir, may I ask a question? I am not an accomplished theologian, but I have always believed that destruction is the least persuasive action one can take, at least when related to the spirit. Destruction is useful in it's place, but it does not enrich the spirit or the name of god in and of itself--it merely defeats that which endangers one physically. To truly give glory to the name of God and his son who died for us, forgiving even still upon the cross those who nailed him there, I have always thought that the best course is persuasion--show the sword, and that is what people believe in, not God. But show them god, and given patience and kindness, they move away from whatever else they previously worshipped. To destroy the witch and the tree will not rid the land of paganism; it will make those who remain silent pagans, but pagans still, and those who convert merely...afraid  or impressed. If the witch or the tree atack you, then fight by all means, of course. But destruction is purely physical, and does not truly change or create faith. A sword can be blocked, sir. But a disease or a cancer can only be carefully, slowly, KINDLY eased out. If you wish to rid the lands of paganism, sir, I put to you this question; would it not be better do do it as a healer--as christ did--than as a conqueror? I mean no offense, but it does not seem the best course against paganism--merely the best course against one pagan and one symbol, empty of threat in itself. Please, do not be angry with me--but it seems...illogical."

The leader of the group let his mouth hang open while Sarakh talked. He squinted his eyes as if this would make it easier for him to understand what he was saying. He then said,

"Thank you for your sermon, stranger. It has been most edifying to most of us..."

"You understood him? I didn't know what he was talking about..." said one of the Christians.

"Silence! Of course I understood him!" the leader growled at his follower. "This is what he meant: here is a holy Christian man with a group of disciples who are spreading the Gospel in this area. And his words we shall follow from now on: when we meet pagans and the witches, we will give them a chance to convert in their heart. If they fail to do that, we shall use the SWORD!"

The followers cheered at the words of their leader. When they calmed down, he then said to Sarakh:

"here the road fork, wise man. We shall go North to find the witches and give them thy holy choice. You an join us north and we can keep ourselves entertain in our company. There is a northern trail that also leads to the ford.

"Or you can go East and reach the river faster. It is up to you, wise one."

Gildor muffled a shriek of pain as Aelfgifu bite through the leather on the palm side of his guantlet and into his palm his hands slipped off and the startled elf and the woman plunged out of the tree and into the rocks below they landed.... hard, "GOD @#%^#$!!!!!***!!!!!!!" roared Gildor, to be honest it was more of a moan. Aelfgifu wasn't hurt as she landed on top of Gildor's massive frame but that only made matters worse for the elf "OH #@**$# bleepity bleep bleep bleep !!!!!!" he moaned.