The Thief and The Bartender
Chapter 9: Olvir's continuing quests in the Ragged Coast
We left Olvir as he arrived at the settlement of Damula, located near the coast in the southern region of the Ragged Coast.
First, Olvir needs to follow up on the only lead he has, given to him by the boatman carrying him from the Barrier Islands, namely the local bartender, Bregga.
He asks the first villager he sees. [GATHER INFORMATION: Weak Hit] He confirms that Bregga indeed works at the local inn called [AI ROLL] “The Iron Hearth.” However, he shows obvious disgust at the mere mention of his name and cautions that Bregga is now regarded as an outcast in the village.
Eager to uncover what transpired, Olvir makes his way to the inn located in the village's main square, known as [ORACLE ROLL] Stormbrook.
Inside the tavern, Olvir determines that his priority is to resupply. [RESUPPLY: Strong Hit] He acquires two supplies (bringing his total to four) and then inquires of the barkeep [GATHER INFORMATION: Strong Hit] if he knows a man named Bregga. He says nothing but points to a sullen-looking man seated alone in the corner and nursing a mug of mead.
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Olvir moved toward the corner where a man slouched over a mug of mead, his broad shoulders hunched in a way that conveyed frustration and resignation. The man’s clothes were plain, his face lined with weariness. There was an air about him—a sense of being worn down by more than just the day's hardships.
“Mind if I sit?” Olvir asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Bregga looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You can,” he muttered, his tone low and tired. “But don’t expect a warm welcome from the rest of Damula, not if they see you with me. Outcasts don’t make for good company.”
Olvir raised an eyebrow as he took the seat across from him. “Why’s that?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.
Bregga’s jaw tightened, his fingers wrapping around the mug as if it might anchor him. “Because they think I stole from them,” he said bitterly. “The entire takings from yesterday’s patrons are gone. And I’m the one they’re pointing fingers at.”
Olvir kept his expression neutral, though a flicker of curiosity stirred within him. “Did you?” he asked carefully, his voice devoid of judgment.
“No,” Bregga replied sharply, his voice rising before he seemed to catch himself. “No, I didn’t. I swear. But it doesn’t matter what I say. They’ve made up their minds.” He paused, shaking his head. “Someone was hanging around the tavern yesterday—a sly-looking, ragged fellow. I saw him skulking near the counter, but I don’t know who he was or where he went. Not much to go on.”
Considering the situation, Olvir let his hand brush the iron pendant on his chest. It was a bleak tale, but there was more to it than met the eye. Bregga’s frustration was raw, his anger genuine. If the man was innocent, finding the culprit might not just restore his standing in Damula—it could solidify Olvir’s presence in this settlement. Redemption took many forms, and here was an opportunity waiting to be seized.
“You’ve got yourself tangled in a mess,” Olvir said after a moment. “But messes have solutions. Perhaps I can help you find this man.”
Bregga studied him, his expression wary but with a spark of hope. “You’d do that? Why?”
Olvir smiled faintly, his voice soft. “Because you’re not the only one seeking redemption in this place.”
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[SWEAR A VOW: Weak Hit] Bregga has no leads to help Olvir, other than suggesting he speak with the Village overseer, a man called {ORACLE] Althus.
At the Overseers Lodge, Olvir asks Althus if he has spotted a ragged-looking newcomer, possibly flush with cash. [COMPEL, Shadow + Trickster Asset: Strong Hit] [+ 1 momentum] He points you to the Bunkhouse, a down-at-heel lodging place at the edge of the village.
Speaking to the Barrack House porter, you ask if he knows this fellow. [SECURE AN ADVANTAGE, Shadow + Sly (Companion perk): Strong Hit] [+1 momentum]
Feeling threatened, he points Olvir to [ORACLE ROLL] Morter, a sleeping figure in a bunk in the corner. Sizing up the figure, he appears to be [ORACLE ROLL] prone to violence.
Olvir decides to be bold, roughly waking the man. [COMPEL + Sway: Strong Hit]. [ORACLE ROLL: Fortify / Land. Interpreted as Morter’s village is under threat, and he stole the money to attempt to buy off [ORACLE ROLL] a gang of Barbarians.]
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Olvir gripped Morter’s shoulder tightly, shaking him from his drunken stupor. Morter’s eyes snapped open, his expression a mix of panic and anger as he lunged to defend himself. But before he could act, Olvir’s voice sliced through the room like a blade—calm, firm, and commanding, having learned from his Sway ability that Morter was genuinely frightened.
“Settle down,” Olvir said, his tone sharp enough to freeze Morter in place. “You don’t want this to turn ugly.”
Morter’s breathing slowed, yet his wariness remained. His eyes darted to Olvir’s iron pendant and then to the raven perched nearby, watching with an eerie stillness. “What do you want?” Morter muttered, his voice cracked and weary.
“I want answers,” Olvir replied, leaning closer, his voice low yet unyielding. “Why did you steal from The Iron Hearth? Why pin that mess on Bregga, an innocent man? Speak truthfully.” Morter hesitated, his jaw tightening. Olvir didn’t relent; his gaze was sharp as he leaned forward. Finally, Morter sagged in defeat, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t have a choice,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I needed the coin—to pay off a gang of Barbarians threatening my village. If I didn’t come up with the money, they’d burn everything.”
Olvir crossed his arms, considering Morter’s words. The desperation in his tone felt genuine, but the Ironlands tended to twist truths and hide darker motives. “If that’s the case,” Olvir said, his voice now colder, “then you’ll return the stolen takings—all of it—to Bregga. Only then will I swear a vow to help your village. But know this—if you lie to me again, there will be no second chances.”
Morter stared at Olvir, his breath uneven, before finally nodding. “Fine. I’ll return the money,” he said, his voice wavering. “But I can’t promise the Barbarians will wait long.”
Olvir stood, the iron pendant weighing heavily against his chest as he towered over Morter. “Then you’d best hope your village can hold together until I reach it. And when I vow to help, I’ll keep that promise—but only if you keep yours.”
Ashencry uttered a sharp cry, punctuating Olvir’s final words as Morter collected himself. The stakes had risen, and the path ahead had darkened, but Olvir knew redemption wouldn’t come without trials.
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NOTES:
This section saw my first use of the built-in Ironsworn “meaning table.” It proved useful in helping me find the path forward, where it wasn’t clear where the next stage of Olvir’s story would go.
I have introduced a new Oracle (used here for the threat to Morter’s village) in the form of Hill Encounters Random Tables. I got plenty from this author’s Coastal Encounters in previous chapters, so I thought it was worth the purchase.
Need to catch up? Find links to previous chapters, plus my Ironsworn setup and character, in this post.
Great write up! Things seem to be flowing well.
This entry flowed really well between the mechanics and the narrative. It's good to see Olvir throwing himself into things, I feel like he's off to a strong start!