Bludsmith Depot #42

[DOT]

BLUDSMITH DEPOT #42

Following completion of the gold dwarves lengthy expedition into the populated areas of Cormyr,
the Bludsmith kinsman settled on a cavern tunnel that connects the fertile hamlet of Shallybrook to the snow topped mountains nearby.
It was a task not taken lightly, with members digging deep into the local landscape and peoples, with one joining a local mercenary group known as the Ironsworn,
and others swearing an oath to the Greatgaunt Volunteers.

There was some debate on what field of business to focus on, from imports, to smithing, and the like. 


Taking their queue from the halfling locals, the standing members agreed that the primary draw of this traveler's depot, would be a rothe steakhouse and brewery (and as of yesterday, a gambling hall).
The unspoken understanding was, given their skillset, these dwarves could easily provide additional defense for the hamlet against giants that roam the snowy mountains.

What changes would befall their plans and what hurdles they'd have to roll over was anyone's guess,
but certainly one cannot deny the combination of meat, mead, and a warm fireplace whilst on a journey.




//LINK to Bludsmith clan and member bios 

[DOT]

Following a clan meeting, tasks were delegated quickly. Vergadain Rule of Acquisition Number 26, "Talk is cheap, but Triple Bock costs coin."


Didi's task was to use her gift of gab and obtain more information from the local residence of Shallybrook. To that extent, so far she's penned two letters to noteworthy figures of the Shallybrook community.

Her 1st Letter was to the Sheriff. 
Didi would quill a letter to the powers that be in Shallybrook...

SPOILER: Click to show

To the Esteemed Sheriff of Shallybrook,

Hail and well met! I pen this missive with the warmth of the hearth in my heart and the glint of gold in my eyes. I am Didi Bludsmith, a Gold Dwarf hailing from the ancient realm of the Deep Kingdom, where the echoes of mirthful laughter and the clinking of tankards resound through stone.

Allow me to extend my deepest compliments to your verdant hamlet of Shallybrook. The very name conjures images of babbling brooks, cozy hearths, and the scent of freshly baked pies wafting from kitchens. Your people, with their nimble fingers and merry spirits, have woven a tapestry of community that warms the cockles of this dwarf's heart.

The way your folk gather there, swapping tales of daring escapades and lost treasures, reminds me of the camaraderie we gold dwarves share in our own halls.

Now, to the matter at hand: The giants. Ah, those towering behemoths from the snow topped mountains. Have they been stirring trouble again? Their thunderous footsteps and penchant for hurling boulders have kept many a dwarf awake at night. Pray tell, dear Sheriff, has Shallybrook felt the tremors of their wrath lately? If so, know that Bludsmith clan stands ready to lend stout axe and unyielding shield in defense of your fair hamlet.

May the Merchant King Vergadain bless your days with prosperity, your nights with laughter, and your cellars with the finest ale. Until our paths cross in person.

In gold and goodwill,

*signed*
D'Deridex Bludsmith

Her 2nd Letter was to the priestess of the burrow.

SPOILER: Click to show

To the Revered Priestess Brandioc of the Burrow,

By the bearded brow of Vergadain, may this parchment find you in good health and spirits. I, Didi Bludsmith, a humble Gold Dwarf of the Bludsmith clan, extend my deepest gratitude for your well-priced healing supplies. Your potions and salves have mended many a bruised rib and eased the aches of weary adventurers. May your Lady continue to bless your hands and your hearth.

Now, let us delve into matters more mysterious and perilous. The very stones whisper secrets, and I seek your wisdom, Priestess. Beneath the roots of the ancient mountain that cradles Shallybrook lies a tunnel, its mouth hidden by gate and waterfall. It winds like a serpent through the earth, from our sun-kissed hamlet to the snow-cloaked realm of the Ice Giants. Have you heard of it, Brandioc? Does it bear a name in your sacred texts?

It reminds me of a frostvein passage—a treacherous path where the chill bites deeper than a winter's frost. Legends speak of lost caravans, their wagons laden with gems and dreams, swallowed by the tunnel's yawning maw. Yet, brave souls still venture forth, seeking the fabled treasures and adventure, said to burn with the essence of both ice and flame.

And now, to the heart of the mountain—the Deep Rothe. Those sturdy, horned beasts of the dark, their eyes gleaming like polished onyx. Who claims dominion over them and manages the herd? Or do they answer to no master, roaming the subterranean labyrinths as they please?

Brandioc, I beseech you: Share your insights. Should you require stout axes or a dwarven blade to safeguard the mountain tunnel by your sacred burrow, know that the Bludsmith clanstands ready.

In stone and starlight,


*signed*

D'Deridex Bludsmith

[grivel]

*Manus walks out the back door of the bakery and sees all the Gold dwarves in town.*

Well, der goes tha neighberood.

[DOT]

After a discussion regarding Quark's new shoe buckles, it was determined by the group that in addition to the Brewery and Meathouse, Depot #42 would also have a gambling component to be run by Quark. War is good for business, peace is good for business, and the Merchant King would certainly be keen on games of chance that test a gambler's luck.

During the meeting, Didi did confirm that responses were still pending from her letters to the Shallybrook locals. Whether there would be responses was anyone's guess, but such was the nature of business ventures. 

[Merogol]

Dhorgruk roamed in search of ingredients to brew his unique beers.

Despite the off-season, he acquired Barley seeds from an Espar farmer and, with the priest of Chauntea's aid, succeeded in cultivating some out-of-season Barley.

Elsewhere, he gathered malt, and hops.

He purchased a camp cauldron from Garrot in Greatgaunt.

Now, Dhorgruk is busy brewing his special beers, which, after a few days of decanting, should be ready for consumption.