Long Live Rodrik Silver Oak, heir to the Silver Oak family! Oh how cruel his death was, ambushed in a back alley by assassins, orcs, and bugbears.  He had steadfastly defendedIMG_0503[1] the walls of Silverthorne for months, only to be cut down the day before his brother, Kurst, arrived back in Silverthorne with help in the form of our intrepid adventurers.

Laying on that large tree stump, in his funeral finest, Rodrik had one last thing to give.  His sword, The Singing Sword, Silverthorne itself.  Cleaver of Orcs, Orsbane, the sword dropped from Rodrik’s hand just as Kurst approached his now stiff and cold remains.  And not a moment too soon.  At the Cathedral door awaited three score orcs, bugbears, and even two hill giants.  After several fireballs from Maldrin, sneaky shots from Storr, and a valiant effort from Sebastien and Justin, Kurst with his new-found Orcsbane waded into the sea of orcs, and parted them with orcs blood.  Soon, all that remained of the siege was orcslain.  And Kurst and company triumphant.