Waco Cayern, Blacksmith
NG Human Commoner 2
Medium humanoid (human)
Related characters: Kya Cayern, age 17 (daughter), Bort Cayern, age 23 (son), Yassik Cayern, deceased age 36 (wife)
Age: 42, Eyes: Brown, Hair: Brown, H: 5’ 2’’, W: 210
“At the mention of the attack, Waco reaches a slow hand up to his beard and begins to stroke it, ponderously. It takes a moment before he looks up to meet your eyes. ‘I saw it.’ He chuckles weakly to himself. ‘”It” truly is a term for it. I ain’t never seen such a creature before. If nature made this thing, it was as punishment for something that pissed it right the Hell off. It came barreling through here, taller than my shop!” Waco’s gaze fell to the ground. “Took half my shop with it when it came through here.”
-Possible questions (adjust as necessary to adapt to campaign settings):
• “Can you describe the creature?”
“I’ll never forgot them eyes until the day I die, mark my words: beady, bulging, raving. I’ve seen lots of monsters, in lots of forms, but these eyes: there weren’t no malice in them, no fear of survival. It just needed to kill. Had a massive beak, covered in blood, not that most of it weren’t also, particularly the claws. Oh, the claws. Each one the size of a sword, and damn if they weren’t sharper.”
• “You say you’ve never seen one of these creatures before, how long have you been in this town?”
“Me and Yassik set up shop here when Bort was born, ‘bout 23 years ago. Been here ever, since.”
• “Did the creature seem to have any strengths or weaknesses?”
“None that I could see. He had a few arrows in his back, but It didn’t seem to mind, any.”
• “Did it appear to have any kind of goal, like it was searching for something?”
“If it was looking for anything, you wouldn’ta known from looking at It. It just seemed to be moving from person to person. If it’d seen me, I would’ve been dead, too.”
• “How did you manage to avoid detection?”
“Got buried by the rubble from the shop. Lucky, I ‘spose, if you can call it that.”
• “Is your family, okay? Did anyone die?”
“No, my family’s alright. Fever took Yassik some three years ago, Kya and Bort are shaken up, but okay. Already got ‘em on repairing the shop. Not that I didn’t see it butchering folks I knew, Torag curse it! Ripped Rett Mogen in half with one swipe ‘o its claws like it was nothing.”
• “What kind of shop do you have?”
“’Cayern Smiths,’ most of the blacksmithin’ in the city’s got my stamp on it.”
och aye twas like a great feathered bear (imagining griswold the blacksmiths voice from diablo) with beak and all but it had claws at the ends of its wings. ahhh it didnt make any sense
-Farnham the drunk
This beast from the depths of hell with giant glowing eyes, claws so sharp it cleaved my poor cow Bessy into pieces. I tell you it was taller then my barn and it's howl was like that of death itself.
-ok this account is from Randy, the local butcher / florist. He runs Randy's Meats and Roses
-Randy was in the middle of helping a customer pick out sausages when he heard odd noises coming from the attached flower portion of the shop. When he went to check on it, he saw a big brown mess of fur poking out of the petunia section. He was pretty pissed off, as he's been having problems with raccoons eating his flowers lately, despite the traps he keeps putting out. Angry, he retrieved a broom and went to swat at it. It was no raccoon – as he approached, a giant creature with a 30, no, must've been 50 foot wingspan burst out of the flower patch in a rage. It had claws bigger than yer head and talons that could tear through bone. The creature stomped around hooting at Randy as it destroyed all the flowers and made its way into the freezer. It tore and ate off chunks of half of his stock of meat, using its giant beak filled with razor sharp teeth. The last Randy remembers was it snatching at his broom with one of his talons and flying off with it out of the shop. Randy is still without a broom.
-So I was in my lab, right? That's where I do all my research. You may have heard of me, I'm bartleby jarkknen? Well, as anyone who has studied in this area knows, there are ancient spirits that inhabit these woods. They sometimes inhabit woodland creatures to bring their wrath or lust for vengeance upon the village when it has become too far from the gods. I've written a number of scholarly works in the subject, if you've any interest in reading them.
Anyhow, I heard the unmistakable scream of a woman in distress from my laboratory, and didn't hesitate but to rush out and defend the people who have come to rely on my talents for safety and guidance. Now, I lost many months of research when the beaker smashed to the ground, but I couldn't just let my people come to harm; the decision was an easy one.
When I ran out of the door I saw what I had known was coming. You see, I had been tracking the ambient energies in the area, and I knew that our town had been dangerously close to incurring the anger of s local spirit. I couldn't be sure of which one, but as soon as I saw those golden eyes I knew that my suspicions were correct.
The village has been relying too much on hearsay and rumor of late. They—that is, we—have been ignoring the sciences and rational wisdom and thought for too long, and I could see the spirits rousing in my measurements. I'd show you the measurement charts but the beaker I dropped has rendered my notes unreadable. I can only hope that my mind is sharp enough to recall and reprint my findings; though I'm sure I can recall such groundbreaking research fairly easily, important as it is to my people's continued survival.
I ran outside, as I said, and I saw the creature—the spirit, that is— mauling a young woman in the street. It seemed to desire just pain to be inflicted; it never chewed at her, only swatted with those brutish claws.
I knew I couldn't hesitate, so I cast a mage hand in front of it: that's a spell I am adept with, you see, and I drew it's attention to me. Better it attack me than my innocent wards, I say.
And when it turned to follow my spell it locked eyes with me. Big, golden eyes with the depth of centuries behind them, the wisdom of ancient spirits was palpable.
I stood up in front if this beast, even on all fours it's shoulders were taller than my hat. I locked eyes with it and I said "spirit of truth and knowledge, we have no quarel with you here. I am Bartleby Jarkknen, a student of wisdom, and truth, and arcane knowledge, and I am a teacher to these people, here to show them how to exist in harmony with nature and the brilliance of the spiritual world.
I shouted this at the beast as I stood there, and I saw those big, beatific, intelligent eyes stare at me, and I think it was sizing me up; judging me, deciding if I should be on the receiving end of those big paws and claws.
I guess it saw the knowledge in me, because it turned and went back into the forest, and the spirit seemed satisfied that our village was on the right track.