Elminster
Speaks
(Part #2)
The
Sage of Shadowdale has something to say about pretty
much everything. Despite having pages in Dragon Magazine,
Dungeon Adventures, and Polyhedron Newszine, the Old
Mage still has more to speak of the Realms. Not wanting
to anger an archmage, we decided it would be best
to give him a weekly column from which to discuss
the finer points.
Listen well, young one.
The
Bron of Voonlar
The
Bron keeps law in Voonlar, acting as both judge and
enforcer, with the aid of six deputies and a militia
in cases of emergency. A worshiper of Bane who smoothly
embraced the faith of Cyric after the Time of Troubles,
Buorstag Hlammythyl was born on a now-vanished farm
not far north of Voonlar. He took to the life of the
sword at an early age, after many pitched battles
against his surly father.
He
spent almost two decades fighting in the Vast, the
Vilhon, the northern Moonsea, and briefly in the service
of certain families of Westgate and of Sembia. He
acquired many scars but little gold before retiring
to the town he often ran away to in his youth, Voonlar.
Buorstag
is a burly, fat, pimpled man of many scars, sporting
an untidy moustache and an aggressive nature that
has led to his being called ‘the Boar’ behind
his back. He has a loud, hoarse voice, a swaggering
nature, a certain low cunning, and absolute obedience
to ‘suggestions’ made by visiting Zhentarim.
It’s often suspected that visiting Zhents take
turns idly voicing contrary opinions just to watch
the Bron of Voonlar change his ways of doing things
completely, only to change them right back again at
the whispered command of the next passing agent.
Thanks
to his swindling and brutality, Buorstag has made
many enemies during his mercenary days. Unfortunately
for him, he didn’t manage to kill all of them.
He’d like to be free of the fear that they’ll
one day hunt him down and slay him for his past transgressions,
and the Bron will jump at any chance to magically
change his looks, preferably to something more handsome.
He’d like to again enjoy feminine companionship
that doesn’t come to him through fear, payment,
or outright coercion. Like many brutes, he looks forward
to the day when he’ll have money enough to retire
to some secure backwater town elsewhere in the Realms
(Secomber, he thinks, or perhaps an upland Sembian
villa) to live out his days in luxury.
Buorstag
secretly loves music, dancing, and hearing good tales
told well. He never misses a minstrel or bardic performance
in Voonlar, though he often sneaks in behind curtains,
in shadows, or in nearby rooms, not wanting to be
seen enthralled by the townsfolk. He loves the pepper
cheese of Tethyr, roast boar, and warm, sugared milk,
but he cultivates the image of the prodigious drinker
because he thinks it makes Voonlarrans look up to
him as ‘manly.’
Despite
having to make frequent ‘say nothing about this
misdeed, please’ payments to various Zhent agents,
the Bron is slowly building his personal wealth, keeping
an old cauldron full of gold coins hidden up an unused
fireplace chimney in his bedroom in the Locktower.
He also has a smaller sack of mixed coins buried in
the woods at the foot of a certain dead tree in the
woods just south of the town dump. Strapped to the
underside of his bed is a belt into which he’s
laboriously sewn emeralds, sapphires, and rubies acquired
by theft or purchase.
The
Bron, Buorstag Hlammythyl: 4th-level
human fighter; AL NE, AC 4 (chain mail +1 & shield);
hp 35; THAC0 15 (+1 Strength, magical weapon, specialization);
#AT 3/2; Dmg 1d8+4 (long sword +1, Strength,
specialization); S 17, D 13, C 16, I 11, W 12, Ch
13.
