Princes of the Apocalypse

Idra's Heroic Deeds

Idra awoke and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the high sun shone brightly through his window. He'd never been one for curtains, not since he and his gang almost died in the garment district of Waterdeep trying to sneak through an upstairs window. Merrick and that damn torch of his. Who knew all those textiles were so flammable?

He glanced out the window looking down on the stable. He thought it was a good idea to put the stable and horse yard next to the outdoor eating area of the inn. The patrons of GriffonBane's -The Tavern didn't seem to see the allure of being so close to the namesake of the place but he had kept it anyway. His tavern – his money, and GriffonBane was family. No one needed to know that this was the 6th steed called GriffinBane. He filled his chamberpot then quickly emptied it out his window almost perfectly hitting some of GriffonBane's refuse and missing the eating area by at least 2 feet. His aim was getting good.


Idra threw on some clothes and headed downstairs to the kitchens of the tavern. Life was good he thought. After adventuring he returned to Belliard to put down his roots. He became sheriff, the best they have ever had by all reports. Then mayor, once again reportedly the best they had in their long illustrious history. Beliard and Idra were experiencing a golden age together, feeding off of each other's success… but mainly because of Idra he knew.


He walked to the back office where his son, Idra the Lesser, was pouring over the books. The gilded sign above the desk stating "All undead must be escorted from the premises prior to Idra's waking hour of high noon". His son was an odd character, looking and acting much like his mother with her red hair and shadowy practices yet retaining his comely gully elf features which saved him from a life of ridicule. Everyone loved a gully elf, even half of one. He knew by the look on his sons face that money was tight.

Years of adventuring had given him a "lifetime of riches" they all said…the whole party wept tears of joy as they left the liche's lair, so many years ago, laden with gold, jewels and enough of those halfling slaves to keep a Berengari whoremonger in business for a century. "Lifetime of riches" … he was only halfway dead and yet his son had squandered his money already.

Idra focused on the gold filigree that adorned the molding of the room. He followed its pattern from this room into the kitchen which had just been remodeled. Then it passed through the stockroom full of expensive imported foods that locals didn't seem to like much. Finally, it trailed into the main eating area where it expanded into the great mural he had commissioned to honor his heroic deeds. It was named "Idra's Heroic Deeds"

He thought the mural would look great as a backdrop to the statue of him that filled the dining area like a triumphant oak. So he commissioned the best artist he could find. They used real diamonds for his eyes on that sculpture. Every few months he would have to replace them, he suspected they fell out and dropped through the floorboards when the temperature fluctuated wildly. That weather had been a problem ever since they had failed to curtail those elemental cults of whatever they were. He'd learned to live with it.


His son… he should be proud and yet his son was a failure. "The Lesser" was fitting. He would have to find out where his son squandered the money. It was the influence of his mother he was sure. Luckily, Idra had removed her from his life years ago. She always went on talking about pacts and yet she forgot the pact they had made to each other. That she would never weigh more than GriffonBane. She let that one go pretty quick and it was all downhill from there. It was quite sad really. They had a great wedding. Merrick performed the ceremony with his stoic delivery punctuating phrases of retribution for wrongdoings and repeating the importance of subservience from his wife. Sounded good at the time. The suit of armor was appointed his best man and stood watch over the proceedings. He'd been doing it for years and Idra felt like he should honor the hunk of metal and anyway, he knew there would be lots of crying so he needed a place to deposit all the used tissues.

Milpot provided entertainment and gave such a rousing serenade of Idra's history that he was sure that if "She who would not be named" didn't marry him that day then any one of the tens of women in the tavern would have married him on the spot. As it was though, she did want to marry him, so the ceremony went on. Idra atop GriffonBane (the 3rd) and that red headed witch at GriffonBane's hindquarter.


It was a large and expensive affair. Everyone was there and a few had to be escorted out… most notably that boorish dwarven paladin that had joined them for a short while. He thought Grick had died in some uneventful way but obviously he had a story to tell because he was trying to tell it to anyone that would listen… in the loudest voice possible. Pockets of people would move deftly away from him as he started in with his story which always begin with an accounting of his lineage. It all reached a head when Grick started admonishing the party-goers for Idra knows what. Merrick eventually took him out back for some good ole reconditioning. Tales of his subsequent death may not be exaggerated but Merrick had kept mum on that issue. That little gnome, Mojo also had to be forcefully escorted out. Throw a few drinks in him and he wouldn't stop using that damn thunder wave. Idra hoped that little bastard died in a house fire in the years since.

He once again focused on his tavern, full of patrons, all eight small tables surrounding the great statue full. Yet the tavern was leaking money somewhere. He'd have to fire his son. Ultimately though it was a good life. He had done well for himself. He was sure historians and bards all over the land were writing about his exploits as an adventurer, as the sheriff, as the mayor, as a great lover, as the paragon of virtue that he had become. All by his own hand. A hand which struck quick as a snake, strong as a bear, and as accurate as something really accurate.

"Idra…", he heard muffled in the back of his mind.


"Idra…remove your damn elbow from my crotch", he heard.


"Idra!", he heard Valeria scream. But he hadn't seen Valeria for almost two decades.

He felt a sharp smack on the side of his face and the tavern, the statue, the mural all faded away as he realized he was opening his eyes. He felt something pressing harshly down on his groin and he looked up to see GriffonBane (the 1st) standing above him, totally unaware that his back hoof was squarely on his masters manhood. He felt a sharp smack again and he realized he had nestled himself up against Valeria.

"Idra, wake your ass up. You fell asleep on your watch…you idiot"

Idra thought he heard a ghostly almost imperceptible laugh from the suit of armor.




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