[Conan] The Nemedian Chronicles - Paths of Wolves [Archive]

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12-05-2008, 11:31 AM

The Kingdom of Ophir was the most ancient of kingdoms existing in the Hyborian Age, dating back to the time of sorcerous Acheron itself. It was a place of mystery and power, dark forests, haunted mountains, black crypts steeped in gloom, where horrors and treasures laid rotting beneath the soil.

Yet it was also a place of life, ruled by kings and feuding nobles, peopled by sturdy peasants and cunning city-folk, ravaged by bandits, defended by mercenaries and armies alike. It was a country isolated by its own stubbornness, suspicious of the world beyond, and lacking real allies. It was friendly to Aquilonia and Corinthia, distrustful of Nemedia and Koth, disdainful of Argos.

Ophir’s troubles were growing. Childless King Valdric was dying, his physicians had found no cure. He had faith in their powers to restore him and refused to name an heir, fearful that any heir might be eager to hasten the king’s departure. His nobles were sure that no cure would be found and that the country would soon be left without king or heir. They maneuvered for the throne, amassed private armies, plotted. No noble had yet dared to kill another, but the mercenaries had ridden past burnt villages and fields, past plundered warehouses, past murdered captains laying in stained fields while vultures circled overhead. The king’s army hid while bandits raided freely, and the Ophireans became refugees within their own land, fleeing to the safety of the cities.

It was through this land the Crimson Wolves journeyed for there were reports of good work for any who could swing a sword or cut a purse. The only catch was to avoid having their own purse or throat cut, for that is what the parties’ fellow freebooters were paid to do.

The mercenary company recently crossed the Nemedian border and traveled toward the Ophirean capital of Ianthe where, according to rumor, rich employment awaited them. The roads were thick with refugees, their carts piled high with the few humble goods which escaped flame and bandit.

Meeting in the Sarellian Forest

The 50 hardy Nemedian Adventurers traveling with the party were trained in war’s ways, and were a company the party could confidently lead into battle. But the parties’ silver was fast disappearing and the troop’s contract was nearly over. It was quite clear to Tullweim den Morder, leader of the Crimson Wolves, these were men who fought for coin, not honor or glory. According to their guide, the party was in the Sarellian Forest, a half-day’s ride northeast of Ianthe. As Tullweim, Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith mused over their nearly empty purse, the company rounded a bend in the forest-darkened road. Ahead they saw the remnants of a caravan, most of the travelers laid dead beneath the dark trees. Twenty horsed bandits were amusing themselves by taunting the four survivors who were still trying to fight. Two of the survivors looked to be from Argos, judging from their apparel. One was a blond-haired woman who, as the company watched, skewered a bandit on the end of a sword, then leapt astride his vacant horse. The fourth appeared to be a madman from Khitai, a berserk warrior frothing at the mouth. The bandits kept their distance from him.

As the company rode into sight, both the bandits and their victims paused briefly to stare at the men-at-arms with their crimson cloaks and banner. The bandits’ leader, a red-haired woman astride a swift eastern bay shouted, “Stay out of this Northman!” The shorter of the besieged Argosseans cried. “All my goods are yours if you save us!”

The company was spurred into action as the blond-haired woman shouted at them, “Be ye men or metal-trussed baboons?” Then, with a great shout, she charged into the bandits before her, followed by the berserk Khitain, Ten of the bandits released a volley of stones from their slings at the company while the rest skirmished with the blond woman and the Khitain without success. In fact, the Khitain bore enough wounds to down any two normal men. The blond woman’s valor was also unsurpassed. The tallest Argossean was knocked unconscious by a blow to the head.

The bandits fell back into the forest after the Crimson Wolves engaged them and the bandits saw they were hopelessly out-numbered, taking what little treasure they had gathered. Their woman leader shouted back as she vanished into the trees. “By Derketo’s brass thighs, you’ll live to regret meddling with the Red Hawk, northman! And so’ will you, yellow-haired bitch!”

The berserk Khitain turned and attacked Dhak despite his numerous wounds, thinking Dhak an enemy. The Khitain struck and missed Dhak with a furious blow that caused the Khitain’s sword to break. The berserk barbarian then grabbed among the spilled packs for the first thing which came to hand, a long, black metal urn with a neck slender enough to be grasped as a two-handed club. He then renewed his assault using the urn, the Khitain lifted the urn high over his head just as Dhak stabbed him in the gut causing him to drop the urn at Dhak’s feet.

The shorter, conscious Argossean thanked the mercenaries, apologizing for the madness of their Khitain friend. He introduced himself as Katos; his unconscious comrade was Darios. He offered the mercenaries all that remained of the goods in their caravan consisting of rare foods, wines, cloth, and ale. He even gave the adventurers the silver urn, a rare relic they bought from a Corinthian dealer in antiques.

Katos revived his comrade Darios, who expressed his gratitude as well, but he was disturbed when Katos told him he had given the mercenaries everything as a reward. They argued somewhat in their native tongue, with Darios eventually conceding and casted a sad glance at the wares. He then asked the sellswords to accompany them to Ianthe, saying, “There we have more treasure, coins more suitable to men such as yourselves. Also our lord, Baron Timeon, is in need of such excellent warriors. I’m sure he could be persuaded to take you into his service.”

The blond-haired woman was very upset by the death of the Khitain, but tried to hide the fact. She introduced herself as Lady Julia, an Ophirean noble, but without family or finance. She and the Khitain were traveling to Ianthe when she happened to join up with the caravan for mutual protection. She now thought she would have been safer without them. “True” said Katos kindly, “but we would have been dead without you. Thank you, noble lady, for your excellent aid. I am sorry your friend did not survive.” He then slipped a simple ring from his finger and gave it to her as the others watched. It was a huge ruby ring cut in the shape of a four-horned beast’s head similar to the one on his other hand.

The Gates of Ianthe

After some time, the company rode out of the forest. Several miles in front of them loomed a dark, gaunt, flat-topped hill. Dark clouds whisped over its severe slopes. Lady Julia gazed at it and said, “That is Tor Al’Kiir. Old wives say a god once made his abode there” Katos muttered, “Old wives oft speak idly.” The road to Ianthe circled the base of the hill, but soon the company crested over one of its flanks and saw the royal city of Ianthe spread out below their feet, the Red River flowing in the distance, sparkling red in the sun’s dying light.

Katos sighed in relief, then spoke to the party, “Welcome, strangers and friends, to our home. She is ancient, but her face is ever changing, A contradiction of the old and new.” He waved his hand over Ianthe. The city sprawled down to the river, its many gold domes and alabaster spires rising above red tile roofs and white walls obscured by a low cloud of thin smoke, surrounded by high granite walls, guarded by towers.

“The Old City wall still stands there in areas,” he pointed, “cutting across the city, offering a secondary, although crumbling, defense. There, near the river, is the Royal Palace, a fortress of might. It is written, ‘He who holds the sacred scepter, inspires the palace; he who inspires the palace, controls Ianthe; and he who controls Ianthe, rules Ophir; amen. It is in that palace and the barracks nearby that the mighty Ophirean army now lurks, awaiting General Iskandrian’s command. Beyond the city, there on the river’s south banks, lie the Tombs, a beauteous region of Stygian aspect which extends for miles.”

“There are three gates, each bound in iron. ‘Travelers entering from the south must pass through the Tombs, cross the Bridge of Skulls where the heads of the executed (which are many, for the King’s Justices are severe) are displayed, then pass through the River Gate. Those coming from the northeast enter the Gate of Gold and are soon lost amid the markets and palaces. We approach from the north and enter through the gate of mighty Avanrakash, may his bones lie undisturbed.”

“She is full of life, yet stinks of death. The placid fools within take no notice of the chaos besieging them. The fat merchants, bearded scholars, ragged peddlers, stinking beggars, and accursed footpads, all go about business in the usual way, as if nothing had changed. Yet the ladies and slaves, lordlings and harlots, tread carefully Ianthe’s paved streets, studiously ignoring her sewers’ fetid breath and greater ills as well.”

“Fear breeds fear, and Ianthe reeks of it.”

“You too will smell the tension. You will see that the fools zealously mind their own business, ignoring murder or kidnappings which cross their paths, each afterward swearing to the City Guard that he saw nothing, heard nothing, knows nothing, forgoing that his own life will be forfeit next. At night, the streets are deserted except for the cautious tread of the Night Watch and the multitude of thieves.”

Darios hissed painfully, with a sudden glance at the setting sun, “Speaking of night, we’d best make haste. The gates are barred at dusk. And though a bribe has been known to gain entrance then, more like it will gain naught but a shaft in the heart or a night’s stay in the graces of the Royal Torturer.”

Katos nodded, then turned a severe gaze on the party. “Be advised, foreigners such as we are never trusted in Ianthe, but especially in these times, We could all be cut down tomorrow in the middle of Emerald Square, and none would concern himself over the affair. We must be each others’ watch-guards and surety.” Katos then spurred down the hill toward the black gate of Avanrakash.

As the armed company approached the gate, a cry rang out, and the gate closed. The gate-sergeant called down to the travelers from his elevated perch on the wall, “Hail and halt. For whom does your banner fly?” Tullweim announced they were mercenaries in search of work. The sergeant replied “I cannot allow your troops passage into the city, by order of General Iskandrian. The General has proclaimed a new law. Only troops with a noble patron are allowed within Ianthe’s walls. Violators of the law will be impaled. Groups of more than 10 men may only move about the city with special permission issued by the palace. But few gain an audience to receive said permission. Those lacking permission are arrested for conspiracy against the crown and are imprisoned. Also, only on-duty soldiers may wear metal armor in the city. No one else may do so. Violators will have their left cheek branded.”

Since the Crimson Wolves had no noble patron and none of the gate guards were going to risk impalement, Tullweim would have to leave his troops encamped outside Ianthe. Katos and Darios wished to spend the night in Ianthe, and knew an excellent inn, The Bull and Bear. They said they were certain Baron Timeon would hire the Crimson Wolves if the Argosseans recommend them. Pay was likely to be 2,500-3,000 sp a month for the entire troop. Tullweim put Enaro in charge of the company and left all the goods from the caravan with them to use as they wished.

The gate guards allowed up to 10 of the travelers through the gate after they had removed their metal armor, but then locked it for the night, Tullweim, Cuana, Dhak, Xacksmith, a Zamorian thief called Taras, and 2 Nemedian Adventurers accompanied Lady Julia, Katos and Darios as they discussed arrangements to meet at Baron Timeon’s palace the next day.

The Sign of the Bull & Bear

The adventurers shouldered their way through the dispersing crowds to the Bull and Bear. It was an old inn leaning slightly against the neighboring buildings, like an old man threatening to collapse should his crutch be removed.

The tavern was crowded, full of noise, sweat, and the odor of some type of food assaulted the patrons’ nostrils. Several off-duty soldiers were starting a game of dice. A fat man argued with the innkeeper about the proper way to make beef stew. From the smell of the swill, it seemed the keeper could benefit from a few lessons. A rabbit-faced man was sitting deep in the shadows, eying the room over his mug. A well-dressed girl wore thick make-up and stood coyly in a corner, looking very shy. Katos and Darios excused themselves to a dark corner booth. It was plain they wanted no company. A serving wench swept over and asked if Tullweim and company wanted a room or anything else.

Tullweim took a seat at a table with Lady Julia, Cuana went to the bar as did Dhak, and Xacksmith was most interested in the soldiers’ dice game. Tullweim noticed the bashful girl and called her over to his table. She looked frightened and refused. Tullweim coaxed a bit and she said, “My name is Torali. My father’s estates were heavily indebted and were seized by his creditors. I have only just arrived in Ianthe and saw the lights of the inn. But I have no coin, and I’m afraid I will be put out into the street.” She was very afraid of the Nordheimer barbarian and really just a child. Lady Julia took a special interest in her and protected her from Tullweim’s clumsy advances. Julia was quite touched and offered to hire Torali as her maid. Torali accepted.

Cuana struck up a conversation with the man at the bar. The man introduced himself as Fabio, and was quite gregarious and free-speaking. He used to work for Baron Timeon as a cook, but had recently lost his job because his viands were considered too plain for his master’s palate, so they should suit a soldier’s taste quite well. Cuana questioned the cook about the Baron and Fabio replied, “The Baron is looking for some good troops. His last ones rode off to seek their fortune with Tiberio. Timeon is willing to pay 35 sp a head a month, bonuses to the commanders, so I say the ones who left are fools. Tiberio will give them naught but glory and death.” At this point Dhak interrupted the conversation and probed further to which the cook answered, “The Baron may be fat but don’t let his looks fool you. He’s no slouch. He’s set up an alliance with Count Antimedes, the biggest of the nobles and the king’s favorite. I heard it straight from the Baron’s curvaceous consort, so I know it’s true. Timeon and Count Valentius are worst of enemies, I gather the Baron insulted Valentius’ good friend, the Countess Synelle. If you’re thinking about working for Timeon, stay out of Valentius’ way.” Cuana candidly offered the cook a job with the Crimson Wolves and cleared it with Tullweim. Fabio asked for wages of 40 sp a month.

Meanwhile, Xacksmith joined the off-duty soldiers dice game. Xacksmith used his skills at sleight-of-hand to have the dice fall exactly how he wanted them to. As the Hyrkanian began to scrape the coins out of the winnings helmet, a soldier grabbed his hand. Another picked up the dice, peered at them, and said “These aren’t the same dice we began with. The dog is cheating!” The table was flipped over and the coins flew. Five soldiers dove at Xacksmith. The Hyrkanian thief leapt over the bar, one of the drunken soldiers pursued while the others blundered behind. While Xacksmith fled to the back of the bar, Dhak, with his Stygian suspicion struck the Crimson Wolves new cook. Cuana, pulled the cook back while Dhak struck again, Cuana responded with a fierce punch of his own to Dhak’s chin.

Through the chaos, Tullweim noticed the serving wench was helping herself to his coin purse while attempting a show of affection. The giant Aesir grabbed the wench to retrieve his hard-earned money and she bargained not to be struck with rumors of what she knew of events in Ianthe, “Well, there’ve been assassinations of various courtiers and kidnappings of nobles’ wives or children to insure the noble’s cooperation. The City Guard has been powerless to stop them and Iskandrian refuses to do anything. Even more frightening is the way so many of the city’s prettiest young women have been vanishing. One by one for the past several months. Ones like Torali there. No one knows what happens to them. Some say they’ve been sold as slaves into Stygia; others say they’ve been traded to Lunar Chanters for some hideous rite. They say that some of the tombs have been found open and the bodies missing. The Guards laugh it off as pranks by the fops, but I’ve heard there’s necromancy abroad again. When the king dies, which’ll be any day now, Count Antimedes is favored for the throne. He’ll seize it sure as my hair is black. But there are rumors of necromancy in the palace itself. Some say the king plans to rise from the dead and that’s why he hasn’t picked an heir. I pray to Mitra that it is not true!”

After the chaos, Tullweim had his men stood up in an intimidating manner and moved towards the soldiers. The soldiers demanded their money be returned to them. Tullweim decided it better to appease the soldiers then cause trouble before they had a patron and agreed, much to Xacksmith’s chagrin. The Argosseans Katos and Darios were spied receiving a note of some sort from the bartender. They argued a bit and then stood up to leave. Darios politely refused the adventurers offered company, saying that he and Katos would return within the hour. As they left the front door the man in the shadows stood up as well. Cuana stood in his way and wished him a good night. The man stared back at Cuana and quickly turned away continuing toward the door.

A moment later, a scream was heard outside. Tullweim, Cuana, Dhak, Xacksmith and Lady Julia rushed outside to see Katos fighting with a dark figure, Darios lying at their feet, another dark figure stood over his form. The two assassins tried to flee, Lady Julia caught and killed the one who was bending over Darios, then searched him immediately, finding nothing. The other fled down the nearby alleys. Darios was dead.

Tullweim asked Katos about the attack but he was unable to provide any information. He was now eager for the adventurers to protect him. He offered 500 sp for their protection. Katos took them to a secret room in The Serpentine slums, and asked them to carry Darios there, avoiding any people, especially the Night Watch. Katos attached great importance to Darios’ body and would not abandon it. Dhak stayed behind and broke a nearby lantern to use the flames as a scrying source on the assassin. Unfortunately he did not have the power to sustain the scrying for long.

Katos led the party up an alley filled with muck, rats, and slime. He then twisted the remains of a once elegant street-lantern hanging from a wall. A hidden door swung back, revealing stairs which led down into the ground. Lighting a lantern that rested inside the door, he led the way down into a dim, clean chamber, filled with odd bottles, bowls, and paraphernalia.

Katos took his dead friend’s hand and pulled an iron ring from the middle finger, and placed it on his own. It was a hideous thing, obviously quite ancient. It bore three eyes and four horns and seemed to match the huge ruby ring Katos wore on his left hand. He also removed Darios’ cloak, ripped out the lining, and removed a crumbling parchment. He then turned to Tullweim and said, “Since we found these rings and this scroll in the tombs of Garian, we have been pursued. We thought them but rare antiquities, but a message I have received tonight casts a new light on them. I know little, but what I know, I will tell. In ages long past, the Avatar of Al’Kiir, god of lust, pain, and death, dwelt upon Earth. His priestesses trafficked in human sacrifice of the most horrible kind. The fairest maidens were married to the god; the best warriors fought madly for his amusement. The people cried for release.”

“Eventually someone responded. The white sorcerer Avanrakash, last of his kind, formed the Circle of the Right-Hand Path and entered into a pact with Mitra. Avanrakash and his followers were jointly given enough power to destroy Al’Kiir, and they marched against him.”

“A great battle raged. Mountains were formed, rivers moved, deserts made, seas consumed. All died except Avanrakash, and he was mortally wounded. With his staff of power he drove Al’Kiir from the body he used on this plain—his avatar—and sealed him from the world. Avanrakash then presented his staff to the king of Ophir and disappeared into the mountains, presumably to die. Though none know his true end.”

Xacksmith asked about the crumbling parchment and Katos read it to the group, “Lo, call to the great god, entreating him, and set before the Image the succedaneum, the bridge between worlds, as a beacon to glorify the way of the god to thee.”

Katos wished to spend the night where he knew he was safe. He expressed a desire to have the party remain, but did not press them. Katos paid 500 sp to the group and was still willing to introduce them to Baron Timeon the next day. The party returned to the Bull & Bear and retired for the night.

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12-05-2008, 11:33 AM

The Morning After

The mercenaries ate breakfast at the inn and Katos met them there to lead them to Baron Timeon’s palace. The party passed a wide boulevard near the Golden Circle, where money and stolen goods often changed hands, loud trumpets brayed out, followed by an expectant murmur of the crowd, The Street cleared to make way for a procession. A large group of Ophirean cavalry pranced by, followed by numerous courtiers dressed in gaudy finery. Behind them rode General Iskandrian, a proud veteran with a shock of white hair belyied the strength still apparent in his bulged neck. This was the man who would determine the future of Ophir. Behind him, in a litter, rode King Valdric, a frail old man in obvious poor health. Across his lap laid a long gem-encrusted staff, the royal scepter of Ophir. Behind him rode another large unit of cavalry. They passed by.

Sandwiched between a temple to Mitra and a pottery shop, stood a small pretentious palace. Tastelessly brocaded columns ran across the front veranda. Wide marble steps decorated with poorly carved flowers led up to two huge bronze doors which bore the Timeon crest, two red wolves on a field of deep blue. The crest might have been impressive, except that the wolves were smiling rather than snarling. Katos mounted the steps and looked a little pale. “I wish Darios might have been here,” he whispered. “It will mean great grief he has been murdered. He was the Baron’s favorite”

Tullweim pounded on the door, and a thin, sour-aired chamberlain opened it and asked their business. The chamberlain, Vanemoth, was irritatingly condescending, even to Katos, and insisted that the Baron was too busy to be bothered with any military trifles that day. It appeared Katos had fallen out of favor. It was also obvious Vanemoth considered the mercenaries’ tattered clothing and foreign accents abominable and would rather not see them again. Lady Julia cursed him loudly. A threat from Tullweim and Cuana cowed the chamberlain and gained the party admittance.

The chamberlain disappeared up some ornate stairs. As they party waited, they looked about and noticed the palace’s garish decor. Flimsy furniture, pretty flowers, and second-rate tapestries abounded.

The mercenaries soon heard a shout from above and saw the chamberlain retreat down the hall backwards, he bowed as he went. A balding man in a silk robe approached, his stomach bulged, his pasty little legs popped in and out from beneath his brocaded gown. He was obviously drunk, “What is all this noise? I’ve told you, Vanemoth, never to disturb me while I’m researching! What do those stinking barbars want?”

Lady Julia laughed at the Baron’s appearance, which drew a deep scowl. Katos introduced the mercenaries, and recommended that the Baron hire them, Baron Timeon offered 2,000 sp a month for the entire troop. This was not enough for the mercenaries and a combination of Dhak’s serpentine tongue and Timeon’s drunkeness led to an agreement of 3,000 sp a month. Baron Timeon insisted that the Crimson Wolves live in the palace and stable their horses there, but they were to maintain a separate kitchen. He wanted none of their cooking odors to interfer with his own meals. The mercenaries were housed on the fourth floor. The Baron then drunkenly swaggered over to Tullweim and threw an arm around his shoulder. “My great ally,” he muttered confidentially, “Count Antimedes will be pleased that I have employed some more troops, particularly if he should decide to seize the throne. Not, of course, that he would ever dream of such a thing. The Count has no such desires. He is a noble man far above such petty politics. But be ready.”

The Baron thought momentarily, then instructed the adventurers they would be on an expedition first thing the next morning. The baron would also accompany them. They were to meet 20 mules and their drivers at the Carellan Stables, and would leave at dawn. The Baron gave them a letter which allowed them to bring their troops to the palace, where they were to be lodged, and take up their guard duties. Katos remained to speak with the Baron privately while the mercenaries went back out into the city.

As the party moved about the wide boulevards flanked by domes and towers ornamented with metal, they saw a multitude of voluminous hooded robes gathered around an auction block. On the block stood many male and female slaves, clothed only in simple loincloths. Some were sold for manual labor, others sold for their beauty and intimate talents. As the company passed by, they heard a scream from the block as a beautiful woman escaped the grasp of her slaver and ran toward the company, with 5 slavers on her heels. The slave girl begged Tullweim for release as she was dragged back to the block. Tullweim and Cuana approached the slave block and Tullweim offered to buy the woman from Urian the slaver, 70 sp exchanged hands. The woman was a pretty, young Ophirian named Accalia. The party continued towards the gate and picked up the cook Fabio on the way.

They showed the papers Baron Timeon provided to them to the gatekeepers and were allowed to don their armor and lead their troops to the Baron’s palace. Once there they set up a watch and prepared for the next day’s journey.

In the Wilderness

It was just past dawn, the air was chill. The adventurers’ horses’ breath showed like fog. The men had gathered outside the palace and awaited the Baron’s arrival. They waited longer than deemed necessary, but Baron Timeon finally approached, now agonizingly sober, he looked quite a different man, and said, “I do not yet trust you. I do not intend to tell you where we are headed until we have left Ianthe, and, in addition, I require hostages.” A window high in the palace opened, Torali and Accalia stepped up to it, an unknown figure stood behind the two girls with a drawn sword. Tullweim and Lady Julia were furious, but Timeon also insisted that Julia remain behind as a hostage or Accalia and Torali would be immediately thrown from the window. Lady Julia agreed and went inside the palace. Baron Timeon promised they would be well cared for. Tullweim said if any of the ladies were harmed there would be hell to pay. The Baron nodded and responded in cold earnest that all he need do is withdraw his patronage and they would immediately be subject to arrest and impalement for bringing an armed force into Ianthe without noble patronage. Affairs were settled and the company moved on, sans the 15 mercenaries left behind to guard Timeon’s palace.

They rode up to the largest stables in Ianthe, which were smelled long before they came into sight. Twenty mules and their drivers waited, stamping to stay warm, they wondered where they were headed. All they knew was that they would venture beyond the safe confines of Ianthe out into the dangers of the open country. A few prayed for their safe return. They were brave men; not many others would dare to leave the city once safely inside. Baron Timeon waited while the mercenaries organized the caravan, then gave orders to leave Ianthe through the Gate of Gold and follow the road to Nemedia.

The company silently suffered Baron Timeon’s many complaints, especially unhappy to stomach Fabio’s meals again, though when meal time came he always ate voraciously. On the seventh night out of a 19 day journey an alarm was raised by the night watch. The company hastily donned armor and stood at the ready, tensely waited as a large group of people moved through the dark towards them. When the people emerged the mercenaries saw 60 refugees, filthy and near starvation. Tullweim and Cuana hunted in the night and caught a deer and rabbit for the refugees. They also parted with supplies they could do without. Finally, Cuana, felt a strong compassion for the group of women, children, elderly and half-starved men, gave them 100 sp with which to buy food and clothing when they reached the nearest city, which happened to be in Count Valentius’ domain.

On the 19th day of travel the Crimson Wolves and the caravan they protected arrived at their destination. The party looked around at the dusty warriors and men, the sweat covered animals wound through the foothills up into the mountains. It had been a long journey. The sun glared down and they wiped their brow. They rode over a crest, and suddenly the mines laid before them. They were in a valley which stunk with slag and debris. Ruined shacks served as barracks for the wretched prisoners sentenced to slave here for the rest of their short lives. A grim fortress of stone rose above them, and the entire valley was encircled by a wooden stockade, which guaranteed that none fled. Black holes of doom gaped in the mountainside, that lead down into the earth’s bowels. Baron Timeon rode over and greeted the fortress commander. Cuana could not see precisely what followed, but it appeared that various papers and a small bag that jingled exchanged hands. Timeon then motioned the company into the fortress, where the warehouse was.

Inside the warehouse were 40 casks to be loaded onto the mules. Cuana opened one and looked inside and found some crude ore that Xacksmith recognized as raw gold ore. After the mules were loaded, Timeon was eager to head back for Ianthe. The company left without incident.

The first full day on the journey back to Ianthe the caravan was attacked by 50 light cavalry. The battle was fiercely fought, Dhak’s unit was pushed back early and withdrew before Dhak returned with the magic of the Elephant Heart to curse his foes while the Nemedian Adventurers struck with their great swords. Xacksmith’s unit was almost completely wiped out. Cuana and Tullweim worked in tandem against the horsemen. Though the line was broken, 3 mule-drivers killed, and 8 Nemedian Adventurers would never adventure again, the raiders were pushed back. Cuana had captured one of the horsemen and asked who they worked for. The man was rightly afraid and begged for his life. He revealed that 6 nights prior a group of peasants had wandered into Valentius’ land with an uncommonly large amount of silver on them. They were robbed, questioned, and made slaves. Valentius then ordered the cavalry out to rob Timeon of his gold. Cuana swore vengeance and let the brigand go.

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12-05-2008, 11:35 AM

The Riders

Early, on the second day traveling back from the mines, Xacksmith scouted ahead of the caravan in the fog and saw a band of 10 riders who were trying to remain hidden traveling parallel to the caravan. Xacksmith reported his findings to Tullweim and company. Once the 10 riders realized they’d been spotted they withdrew into the forest. Later, at noon, the caravan stopped to rest and replenish. The 10 riders were again spotted. Dhak and Xacksmith stealthily moved towards the riders while Tullweim and Cuana got the caravan moving again. The Aesir and Cimmerian then trotted to the riders under the guise of parleying. The riders immediately fled and disappeared over a hillcrest.

Tullweim and Cuana chased after them, but lost sight of the riders. The two experienced trackers did see horse tracks leading down towards a small hut. An elderly woman was in front of the hut doing her washing in a brook. She seemed very old and a bit mad. The Aesir called out to the woman and noticed that she was blind, yet seemed to see them easily. Tullweim and Cuana coaxed some information out of the her, some of it quite startling. When asked about the riders, the old hag responded, “I saw no riders but sensed an unholy presence pass by this spot. The poor ground shook in her terror. Beware. Worry not yourselves with gold. The earth herself is in fear. The crucible which will forge him anew has been exhumed, lost from my care. For millenia I have watched it and now it is gone.” Dhak and Xacksmith caught up to Tullweim and Cuana in time to hear the old witch’s most shocking revelation, “With Al’Kiir’s return all hope will be gone. None can escape his will. He is impervious to puny weapons such as yours. Only the Staff of Avanrakash can destroy him. He is not far away. His purpose is at hand. At nights now I hear his servants calling him. They lacked yet the crucible, but now that it is in their hands the last rite will be performed and the earth doomed.” Dhak’s Stygian mind was quite intrigued by the old woman’s tale, and wished to spend more time discussing matters with her, but the rest of the party was eager to give chase to the riders. Dhak requested any aid the old hag could give, and she gave him 4 doses of a healing salve she had concocted.

The party followed the horse tracks into a small woods. They found a bind of 10 horsemen clothed in red and faces hidden by hoods. Steel sparked and blood was shed as the outnumbered party fought their foes on horseback. The riders’ tactics of spiritedly charging the party with ride-by attacks took its toll on even the heavily armored Tullweim. Xacksmith shot arrow after arrow into a single rider, who fled, near to gasping his final breath. Dhak threw his last orb of Acheronian demon-fire at a rider who wore a bronze charm around his neck and was startled to see the rider was not shaken by it. Cuana was quickly pressed by 3 of the riders and responded by striking a mighty blow which felled one rider and immediately cleaved another. In the end, 2 of the riders were taken prisoner and their leader felled. The leader’s body was examined, the hood removed and the party discovered a familiar face underneath. It was Darios, the dead Argossean! The old wounds from several days past were easily discernible on his body. How he came to be alive again sent a shudder down all but the Stygian’s spine.

The 2 prisoners were separated. Dhak and Xacksmith tied one up against a low, ruined wall, while Cuana roused the other prisoner and pressed his sword to the riders’ throat. The prisoners refused to talk at first, but both Cuana and Dhak quickly broke their resolve with threats of dismemberment and curses beyond the grave. The prisoners started with a hollow threat, “Al’Kiir will destroy you for meddling in his affairs,” but quickly offered relevant information when pressed about their purpose, “We were not here to slay the Baron or steal his gold, but to assure that he did not try to raise Al’Kiir on his own.” When questioned about the dead Argossean merchant the prisoners whispered, “Darios was a necromancer in league with Timeon. He sought to raise Al’Kiir. He who raises the lost god will gain more than the throne of Ophir.” The party left the prisoners in the woods, one still tied to a wall. Cuana lopped off Darios’ head at Dhak’s request and put it inside the hood that masked Darios’ identity. The party then returned to the caravan with 9 Hyborian warhorses and plans to turn some of their infantry into cavalry.

The rest of the days of journey were uneventful. Tullweim thought it best not to confront Baron Timeon with Darios’ resurrection and second death. On the 19th day of travel the Crimson Wolves reached Ianthe and found the Gate of Gold locked. The adventurers could not convince the gate sentries to open the way, even for Baron Timeon. The Baron was eager to enter the city and the caravan was moved to the Gate of Avenrakash, which was luckily open. The caravan then traveled through the crowded city streets to Baron Timeon’s palace.

Once there, the ore was unloaded into the cellars. Tullweim’s slave-girl Accalia, Torali, and Lady Julia greeted the adventurers. Lady Julia spoke disparagingly about Tullweim’s attachment to his slave while inquiring about their journey. Tullweim recounted the tale and Lady Julia made advances to the mighty Nordheimer, whispering in his ear to come to her bed-chambers that evening. The Baron thanked the adventurers for their service and disappeared into his rooms after shooing Cuana (who was attempting to follow the Baron) off. Katos greeted Baron Timeon and the Baron said, “Things went well enough. The fortress commander sold us a manuscript. It holds the ritual that will call him.” Katos quieted the Baron and closed the door to his room.

The adventurers split off to attend to personal matters. Xacksmith went into the city to purchase a steel cap and materials to use his bowyer talents and craft a more powerful Hyrkanian bow. Dhak sought information from the local temples concerning Al’Kiir, but received little useful information other than fearful rumors and old wives’ tales. Cuana and Dhak later went to the Bull & Bear tavern to sit on a proper chair and drink a frothy ale. Xacksmith returned to Baron Timeon’s at nightfall and Tullweim left his slave cold in his bed-chambers while he went to warm Lady Julia’s.

The Death of Katos

At midnight, a scream, coming from the direction of Baron Timeon’s room, rang out through the palace. Xacksmith stopped his work on his new bow and Tullweim ran out of Lady Julia’s room with nothing but his great sword. Lady Julia wrapped the sheets around her and followed the Aesir to Timeon’s room. Tullweim burst into the Baron’s room and found him quite frightened by the scream, though he tried to look brave in front of his lady companion. Lady Julia tried quite hard not to laugh. The Baron told them that the scream came from Katos’ room. Tullweim, Lady Julia, and Xacksmith rushed to the room and found it locked. Tullweim’s mighty thews easily kicked the door down. Katos laid dead in his bed, the murderer’s knife embedded in the mattress at his side. The room was a shambles. Every trunk had been hurriedly emptied. The linings of the draperies had been slashed open. A bare spot on the wall showed where something had been removed. Xacksmith and Tullweim rushed out to the balcony and found a red bandana of Zingaran make but saw nobody but the Crimson Wolves on-duty guards below. Xacksmith jumped to a nearby balcony, almost falling in the process, but caught himself on the balcony rail. Tullweim jumped to another balcony and they both climbed up to the roof. Xacksmith noticed a missing tile on the roof, but no tracks were found.

Tullweim and Xacksmith returned to Katos’ room and discovered that the merchant’s ruby ring was gone. A paler shape was outlined on a spot on the wall, similar to a man’s head surmounted by four horns. Many vials of noxious liquids and powders had been spilt and broken. Several black candles laid nearby. The knife in the mattress was removed and Tullweim recognized it as being from Kardava. The mattress where the knife had been embedded was cut open and an ancient manuscript was discovered within the flurry of feathers. Xacksmith pored over the manuscript and believed it to explain how to raise or destroy Al’Kiir. Lady Julia asked to look at it, but was unable to read it.

Baron Timeon was very upset by this incident and was close to firing the Crimson Wolves. The Baron gave Tullweim an ultimatum, find Katos’ killer within five days, or be removed from Timeon’s employ. Tullweim knew full well, if he were to lose the Baron’s contract, he would have to flee General Iskandrian’s army. A prospect he was not fond of since likely most if not all of the mercenaries under his command would be caught and executed.

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12-05-2008, 11:36 AM

The Search for the Assassin

Tullweim, Xacksmith, Lady Julia and three members of the Crimson Wolves stood in the room with Katos’ lifeless body. Several of Baron Timeon’s servants arrived to clean up the mess in the room and remove the body of the dead Argossean merchant but Tullweim wouldn’t allow it. The Aesir demanded that nothing in the room be touched until Cuana and Dhak had a chance to survey the scene. Tullweim posted 2 mercenaries at the door and put the rest on high alert. They were to sleep in shifts and patrol the grounds for the rest of the night. Tullweim wanted to post 2 guards at the Baron’s door, but the Baron refused to allow the guards within 30 feet of his door. Though he too was concerned for his safety, Timeon desired privacy even more, and insisted, quite importantly, that his friends in court would never allow him to be assassinated. After the Baron left, Tullweim ordered Taras to keep watch over Timeon’s balcony.

Lady Julia was rather bored by the mystery and would rather stay at the palace than get involved. The Nemedian troops were quite fretful and Lady Julia’s beautiful hand-maiden Torali added to their fear when she said “only a supernatural being could have penetrated into the heart of the palace.” Tullweim’s slave Accalia then ran up to Katos’ room to find the barbarian. She stopped in shock at Tullweim completely naked in the hallway with Lady Julia in a bed sheet at his side. The barbarian clumsily attempted to smooth the situation over while he walked with Accalia back to his room.

Once preparations were made and armor was donned, Tullweim decided to locate Cuana and Dhak. Cuana had left word that he would be at the Bull & Bear inn so the Aesir and Hyrkanian headed that way down Ianthe’s darkened streets. When they arrived at the inn, they found Cuana had purchased a large keg of ale for the troops. Tullweim pulled the group outside and explained their current predicament. Dhak was eager to have a look at the crime scene and Cuana and Tullweim carted the keg back to Baron Timeon’s palace. When they arrived they looked the scene over and all the clues found were made known to the Cimmerian and Stygian. It was decided they would need to question Baron Timeon and perhaps confront him with what they already suspected about his dealings with Al’Kiir.

Day 1

The next day the party rose early and checked the grounds. Katos’ body had been removed and the room cleaned. Tullweim gave Accalia some silver to go to the market district and buy something for herself to atone for the night before. Dhak also went to the market district to inquire about the knife that had ended Katos’ days. The Stygian noticed Accalia and grabbed her arm. She yelped with a start and met the Stygian’s imposing gaze with a coy smile. He asked what she was doing and she explained herself. Dhak caressed the girl’s cheek and bid her be on her way.

Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith then arrived to the market and saw the Stygian and the slave-girl. Tullweim greeted Accalia and she showed off her purchases, then the party continued their inquiry, but did not get any useful information other than that the kingdom of Koth had attacked a border fortress.

The group decided to return to Timeon’s palace after mid-day and saw Enaro moving nervously about the grounds. When Tullweim approached Enaro, the Nemedian explained that he had noticed 3 Crimson Wolves missed the noon meal. Cuana asked around and found out that now that their contract was over and despite the fair pay, some of the men desired to go back to their lives in Nemedia, and away from the intrigue and murders in the Baron’s palace. Cuana said he could not blame them and informed Tullweim about the deserters. Tullweim and Cuana both addressed the troops to raise their morale. Dhak immediately moved out about the town, asked the city watch if they had seen the soldiers and learned they had left the Avanrakash gate early in the morning. Dhak informed the city watch that he wished to put bounties on the deserters heads.

The party then walked to Baron Timeon’s room to confront him about Darios’ and Katos’ murders. They arrived and saw Vanemoth carry Timeon’s first meal of the day to the Baron’s room. The Baron had opened the door and Tullweim interrupted and said they must speak immediately. The Baron sighed and told his chamberlain to take the tray to the dining room and Vanemoth shot an annoyed look at the mercenaries. Once in the dining room, the party confronted the Baron with what they knew. The Baron once again brushed aside Tullweim’s insistence on guards at Timeon’s door. Cuana asked about the riders with the red hoods they had encountered on the road back to Ianthe, and Timeon claimed complete ignorance of any knowledge about them. Cuana then pressed the Baron for information and mentioned Al’Kiir. The Baron replied that the Cimmerian’s primitive intellect could not comprehend the wills of gods and denied any sort of malicious activity. He then turned to Tullweim, quite furious that the day was fast passing and no new information had been discovered about Katos’ murderer or the items which had been stolen. The party left to discover what they could in the city with the clues they had.

The party explored the slums of Ianthe for rumors and people who might be able to lead them to information. This district reeked of poverty and neglect, and the buildings were in great danger of collapse. Many were already collapsed. Here were the desperate and poor, the resentful debtors, and the cunning thieves. Here it would be easy for bandit bands to hide from justice, sending their webs out across the city. Xacksmith spotted a couple of people in well-worn clothing who followed them when a pungent odor assaulted the groups nostrils. 7 haggard men approached, they held cups out in front of them and they pled for alms. “Please, a quarter silver. A copper. Anything. I’ve not had a scrap to eat in days.” “Please, please, my family is starving, my boy, my youngest is at death’s door.” Tullweim and Cuana gave them some silver and inquired about the bandana and knife. One of the beggars responded, “Well. I tell ‘ee, there’s only three groups of brigands in Ianthe smart enough, brave enough, or fool enough to commit murder in a noble’s own palace. One is Galbro, but he’s a bit of a fop. The other is Urian the slaver. And the third is the The Red Hawk, but she’s a woman so don’t really count no how, I’d put my money on Urian. He’s the only one with any real guts.”

Cuana gave the beggar more silver and the group went on its way and the party kept a wary eye out for the people who followed them. Once they caught sight of the pair the party went into an alleyway to try and lead their shadows into a trap. The pair of trailers apparently knew the alleys of the slums well as they attacked the group from connecting alleyways behind the party. The alley thieves attacked first and drew blood from Dhak and Cuana. Dhak quickly tossed Lotus smoke in front of the attackers, but managed to catch the party with it as well, the alley-rats and Cuana were out of commission for several seconds. Tullweim used this opportunity to hit both bandits with the flat of his blade and knocked them unconscious. Cuana asked Dhak to pour some of the strong ale he carried onto the alley-rats and the Cimmerian and Aesir carried the thugs as if they were drunk. They were stopped by the city watch, but their bluff worked and they were allowed to continue to the Baron’s palace.

Once at the palace, Dhak took one of the alley-rats up to his room while Tullweim took another to his. Tullweim called the mercenaries’ medic up to the room as well. When roused, the alley-rats spat at their captors and claimed they had followed the party in order to rob them. Unconvinced, Dhak issued threats of mystical death and damnation to intimidate the thief to talk. Tullweim used more barbaric measures. Blood-curdling screams rang out on the floor which acted as barracks for the mercenaries which woke several mercenaries from their sleep as Tullweim cut off a finger for every question he asked. When he had finished, the thief’s entire hand was lopped off. At the end of the gruesome interrogation, both Dhak and Tullweim had learned the thieves had been hired to get a “crucible” from the party and they learned the name of the man who had them followed, Galbro. The thieves did not know where Galbro could be located, but revealed a drop-off point in the slums for messages.

Tullweim let the thief that Dhak had interrogated go, but not before Dhak drained him to fuel his magical power. Dhak stole essence from the one-handed thief as well, and took the thief out into the entrance hall of Baron Timeon’s palace. There he gathered 10 Crimson Wolves and put on a horrific display. Dhak held the Elephant’s Heart out and murmured powerful words of dark sorcery. The large ruby in his hand glowed malignantly and the simple thief that stood in front of him shrank down to half his size. Their was an audible gasp of shock and horror at this display and Dhak announced that this would be the fate of any that would oppose the Crimson Wolves. Dhak then took the thief back to the slums to leave at Galbro’s drop-off point.

Day 2

The next day, the party learned 2 more mercenaries had deserted, whether out of fear or disgust was unknown. The party decided to gather information in the Old Town district of Ianthe. This district was one of the oldest in the city. Many of the buildings had stood for centuries. A few had collapsed. The remains of the old city wall still ran through the area. It was a poor area, but not poverty-stricken. Many beggars and common laborers surrounded the party, along with soldiers and stables. While they attempted to get further leads on Galbro, the party learned that a fire had destroyed large parts of Gurian’s Heart.

The mercenaries continued on their way and were privy to some information. One disgruntled Ophirean let his feelings for foreigners be known, “It’s foreigners like you what’s making all this trouble, But you’ll get your own. Soon the King’s dead and Iskandrian takes the throne, he’ll impale you mercenary swine, and scatter your ashes in the river.” It was not long after when the adventurers noticed they were being followed by a gang of five alley-rats.

The party continued through the old city streets when their path was barred by a funeral procession. A long line of mourners clogged the streets so no chariot, horse, or man could pass. Tullweim decided to try and cut through the dim alleys and that is when the alley-rats struck. The five rogues cut Dhak and Xacksmith deep. The Hyrkanian retreated behind Cuana and Tullweim. Dhak moved back and cursed one of the thugs. Cuana stepped up and killed two of the rogues with two vicious swings of his great sword. Tullweim’s blade cast a swath of death in front of him. Finally, only two rogues were left and knew they were beat, so they fled. Cuana gave chase, but his armor slowed him down and he did not know Ianthe’s streets and alleys as well as the thieves. The party was left with no one to question, and so set forth with their inquiries.

Several hours of questions to anyone who would talk to them gave little results. The sun was setting past the hills and the mercenaries went to one last hovel with a woman sweeping in front. When asked, the woman revealed, “I know something about Galbro. Used to be from Zingara. Always wears a big scarf tied around his left wrist for some strange reason, likes to collect antiques and weird stuff like that. Bit of a fop, but a good swordsman.”

It was little to go off of, but more information than they previously had.

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12-05-2008, 11:38 AM

Night 2

The party had traversed the crowded streets of Ianthe and questioned the inhabitants of the Old City district for a long, hard day. Tullweim, Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith needed a tall mug of ale. The group traveled across the emptied streets through the dim light to the Bull & Bear inn. Once there, they looked around for any familiar faces but found only 6 of the Gate of Avenrakash’s guards who gambled with 2 mercenaries, and the wench who had attempted to lighten Tullweim’s purse the parties’ first night in Ianthe. The party took a table and gruffly ordered ale from the wench, listened for any mention of the group in the inn, and heard only low grumbles from a couple of the guards. Tullweim bought the gate guards’ table a round as well. Dhak approached the guards about Galbro and got a racist remark for his troubles. Dhak turned away with a sneer on his face and was about to walk back to his table when one soldier told Dhak he’d heard of Galbro’s network of thieves. Dhak turned at the soldiers’ words and was told to search a certain sewer in Ianthe’s slums for a secret entrance to the Zingaran’s lair. Dhak sensed the guards’ true intent was not to aid but to have the party tromp though the cities sewers and provide the guards with a joke to tell in future nights. Dhak spoke to his comrades, they finished their ale and left the inn in a resentful mood.

The adventurers returned to Baron Timeon’s palace and met with Enaro, who informed them of the low level of the troops’ morale. Cuana attempted to rouse the companies’ spirits but could not find the right words. Tullweim then promised the troops they would win through this difficult time with their lives and plenty of silver to take home to Nemedia. A loud cheer rose in response and Tullweim turned to see Timeon’s chamberlain fast approaching down a corridor. Vanemoth informed the party the Baron was not happy that half his slaves had fled in the night from the display of mummery and sorcery Dhak had shown. Tullweim shot Dhak an annoyed look and had the chamberlain lead him to the Baron. Baron Timeon spat vitriol and bile at the adventurers for the loss of his slaves and swore that the cost of each one would come out of the mercenaries’ pay. Tullweim was able to calm the Baron down with assurances that no such thing would again occur and Dhak intimidated the Baron, who let them be for the moment.

Afterwards, Cuana walked rounds with the troops while Dhak checked out Timeon’s floor for any intruders. Tullweim and Xacksmith were headed towards their rooms on the 4th floor of the palace which served as a barracks for the Crimson Wolves and discovered the door to Enaro’s room was open. They had just seen Enaro downstairs and decided to investigate. Xacksmith stealthily opened the door and saw 3 thieves had torn the room apart in search for something. Xacksmith leapt over the bed and blocked access to the balcony before he challenged the thieves. One of the thieves bull rushed Xacksmith, but the Hyrkanian was able to stab him and push him back. Another of the thieves rushed Xacksmith and sent him off the balcony 4 floors to the ground. The last thief moved out to the balcony and climbed up to the roof. Tullweim entered the room and brought his sword down on one of the thieves who cried out in pain. The third thief flanked the Aesir and sent a blade deep into a chink in the barbarian’s armor. Tullweim became enraged, his eyes grew large and his great sword dealt death to the thief on the balcony. Meanwhile, Xacksmith stood up and rushed to warn the Crimson Wolves on the ground floor. Cuana, Xacksmith, Enaro and several Crimson Wolves hastily made their way up to the 4th floor. Dhak heard the noise from the 5th floor and moved out to a balcony. His keen eyes were not hindered much by the dark night sky, and he was able to see a shingle on the roof that betrayed the thieves path of escape. The other thief attempted to flee from Tullweim, but the barbarian swung his sword and cleaved the thieves’ skull in two. Cuana, Xacksmith, and Enaro arrived to find Tullweim covered in the blood of his foes. Cuana tended to Tullweim’s wounds and Dhak gave small aid to Xacksmith. Afterwards, Enaro was questioned as to what the thieves sought. The captain searched through the room and found that the urn the adventurers had left in his care was gone! The party realized, the “crucible” the thieves sought had been under their noses the entire time.

They now knew what was at stake. Tullweim, Cuana, and Xacksmith attempted to track the thief, a difficult task on the hard city streets of Ianthe in the dim light. It took several attempts from the three experienced woodsmen, but they eventually picked up the trail. Meanwhile, Dhak attempted a more mystical approach to their quarry. The Stygian had 2 Crimson Wolves bring Timeon’s servants to his quarters one at a time and drained them to fuel his mystical energy. The mercenaries refused to bring any more servants to Dhak after the first 2 had left a trail of drool as they were carried back to their rooms despite the Stygians assurances that the damage would not be permanent. Dhak then went down the hall and got a couple more mercenaries to grab more of Timeon’s servants. Once he was filled with mystical energy Dhak scryed through a mirror & discovered the thief’s hideout in the slums. Dhak attempted to convince Taras to travel with him but the Zamorian refused to leave his post in watch over Baron Timeon. Dhak then convinced Enaro to escort him through Ianthe’s cutthroat filled alleys. On the way to the thief’s hideout Dhak and Enaro found the rest of the party who had completely lost the thief’s trail. Tullweim sent Enaro back to Timeon’s palace and the three mercenaries followed Dhak into Ianthe’s slums.

They traveled to the thief’s hideout and Tullweim attempted to kick the door down but failed. Cuana stepped up and with his mighty thews knocked the door off its’ hinges. The scared thief held up his sword but knew he could not get through the 4 armed mercenaries who blocked the doorway and his only means of escape. When he stood down the mercenaries questioned the thief and he revealed that he and his fallen brethren did not take the urn. The adventurers demanded to know where Galbro was, but the thief didn’t know. He told them about the house on Wolves’ Row, where they were to leave the urn at midday the next day, if they’d found it. Cuana took a draught of the thief’s cheap liquor and Tullweim told the thief to leave Ianthe and never return or be put to the sword. Without hesitation the thief immediately stole away into the night.

When the adventurers returned to Timeon’s palace, Enaro informed them about 3 more mercenary desertions. Tullweim fixed Dhak with a heavy gaze but before he could speak Baron Timeon approached livid with rage. Quite drunk, the Baron screamed his displeasure about the accost of the few staff that remained. The baron was close to firing the mercenary company on the spot, but Tullweim was once again able to calm him down. After Baron Timeon left back to his chambers, Tullweim turned on Dhak and told the Stygian that he was now on his own. Should any further trouble be caused, Tullweim would not prevent any action Timeon took. That said, the group retired for the night and rested their troubled brows.

Day 3

The next morning, as the party was prepared for the day, Vanemoth called them to breakfast with a begrudged manner. Timeon, Lady Julia and Torali were present in the dining hall. Timeon chided Vanemoth for his sub-standard meal and shot a rueful look at the mercenaries. He then asked for a progress report to which Tullweim related the information the group had gathered about Galbro and the house on Wolves’ Row that the party planned to visit at midday. Lady Julia urged caution and said Galbro was rumored to be a great necromancer and suggested they only go with a great force of their troops. Tullweim responded that he had faced many demons and unnatural foes in past adventures and was unconcerned about the Zingaran’s mummery.

Afterwards, the party traveled with 2 additional members of the Crimson Wolves to Ianthe’s market district, where they sought Urian the slaver. The slaver had previously been easy to find among his slaves, who he sold like cattle, on the auction block. But this day his stall was empty. When they inquired around the nearby shops they learned Urian had been murdered the day before, hung by his heels not far from his home with marks cut into his cheeks and forehead. With that avenue closed to them the party made its way to the house on Wolves’ Row. Just outside the market district the mercenaries were stopped by a tax collector with a group of the city watch who accompanied him. The collector demanded to see the mercenaries papers and asked for the taxes due. Cuana threatened the collector which set his guards on edge and the collector told Tullwiem to “silence his fool.” This insult boiled the Cimmerian’s blood and Cuana drove his blade deep into the royal collector’s gut. The guards drew their weapons and were about to arrest the angry barbarian when Tullweim kicked the bag of coins that had fallen from the tax collector’s person and convinced the soldiers to let Cuana go to keep their lives, take the coins and report that thieves killed him. That satisfied the guards as they apparently did not like the man anyhow and the party was sent on its way.

Halfway to the house on Wolves’ Row, Tullweim was wracked with pain. He tried to move forward but the pain was too great and he staggered along, knocked into patrons and carts before he hit the cobblestone and fell unconscious. The 2 Nemedian mercenaries who accompanied the party panicked at the sight and fled back to Timeon’s palace, fearful of whatever dark sorcery felled their leader. Xacksmith spotted a group of the city guard who fast approached, ready to arrest Tullweim as a drunk. When they arrived, Dhak successfully bluffed them, said he was Tullweim’s physician, and that the barbarian was ill. The members of the watch told the party to clear Tullweim off the street and to keep him away from Ianthe’s citizens. Cuana lifted Tullweim up and carried him on to their destination.

Tullweim was roused once the adventurers arrived at the house on Wolves’ Row. Xacksmith picked the lock to a door from an alley and once he entered he triggered a trap which caused bricks to fall on him, his quick reflexes led to only minor damage taken. Afterwards, the party moved carefully about the quiet house. The entire structure was thoroughly searched but in all the rooms except for one there was only dust that had laid undisturbed for months, if not years. They found a single room which had been recently swept clean. The only items of note in the room was a clean table and 2 stuffed hawks on a banister. Xacksmith’s keen eyes also found a secret door which led into a side alley. The party waited well past the noon hour, but nobody approached.

With no other leads, the adventurers decided to visit the late Urian’s house to see if anything could be learned. After an hour’s walk they stood before the slaver’s den. Guards with a seedy look surrounded the place and eyed the party suspiciously. Tullweim knocked on the massive oak door and a young girl, no more than fourteen opened it. The Nordheimer introduced himself and inquired as to the status of Urian’s slaves. The girl confessed that she did not know what would become of herself and the others that labored for so long under the slaver’s whip. Cuana mentioned Baron Timeon and his need for servants. The girl thought for a moment and said she would very much like to serve under a noble over another merchant who dealt in the sale of flesh. Tullweim asked about their quarry, the Zingaran, and the young girl did not recognize the name Galbro but replied, “There’s some funny doings at the Tovalis Mansion lately. It’s supposed to be empty but sometimes at night you can hear Zingaran music. Somebody’s holed up in there, you can be certain, but who it is, I don’t know.” The party exchanged looks among one another and bid the young girl better days ahead as they left the dead slaver’s home.

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12-05-2008, 11:40 AM

Day 3 continued

The adventurers concluded their discussion with the slave girl who until his death, belonged to Urian the slaver. The party was still hurt from wounds previously received and went to the merchant district in search of curatives. They did not have to travel far as Urian’s home was on the outskirts of the mercantile district and an hour’s worth of asking around led them to an apothecary. A plethora of herbs and poultice scents wafted around the mercenaries within the smoke-filled shop. Behind a counter stood a short, older Ophirean merchant. He eyed the foreigners warily and curtly asked what they wanted. When told of their desire for curatives, the merchant went behind a curtain and retrieved a clay jar which contained several doses of a poultice made from Acacia extract. The party haggled and was able to purchase several doses of the healing mixture. They left the shop and ducked behind a nearby alley, removing their armor to apply the poultice and immediately felt it’s effects.

Dhak mentioned his need of power to fuel his sorcery to the rest of the party and they agreed to aid him in harvesting the necessary mystical energy from whatever street folk they encountered. It was not difficult for the mercenaries to locate 2 unfortunates in an alley. Cuana and Tullweim each grabbed one of the vagrants, who kicked and fought helplessly within the barbarians’ vice-like grip while Dhak placed his hands firmly on their faces and drained them of their senses. After setting them back down, Cuana slipped a single silver into each vagrants’ tattered tunic. With Dhak flush with power the party made their way further into the slums towards the Tovalis mansion.

Suspicious eyes from passerbys followed the passage of the mercenaries as they arrived at their destination, the aged front of the Tovalis mansion. The mansions’ windows were boarded shut and a single weathered door sat solidly in its frame. The building appeared deserted, but a furtive movement behind one of the boarded windows on the second floor was noticed, betraying an occupant inside the fore-boding edifice. The adventurers assumed they had been spotted and moved further down the street, attempting to look like they were searching for another building. Dhak and Xacksmith left Cuana and Tullweim in the front of the building while the two lightly armored and stealthier companions made their way to the back.

The back of the dilapidated mansion overlooked a squalid alley full of refuse and vermin. The stench was unbearable. A small door was located in a one story addition to the main house. There was a stack of crates and debris in the corner. Xacksmith moved towards the back door and pulled out his trusty lock picks. He worked at the door and triggered a trap which caused a cloud of smoke to shoot out from the wall next to it. The Hyrkanian leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding the trap. Afterwards, the two adventurers stealthily made their way through a kitchen, where food was boiling on the pot. The room past that had been modified into a barracks like quarters with several bedrolls and cots throughout the room. Xacksmith listened at the door on the west wall and could hear at least 5 people conversing and shuffling about. Dhak suggested they continue south and went into another room whose original use had been abandoned for a sleeping quarters for several people. Dhak listened at the door to the north and heard a group of people beyond. Dhak and Xacksmith surmised that the north door led to the same room which Xacksmith had already heard voices come from.

Dhak and Xacksmith decided to leave the door with occupants behind it alone until they could get their companions inside the mansion. Xacksmith opened the door on the west wall and triggered another trap. A dart, gleaming with a coating of poison shot from a wall opposite the door the Hyrkanian had opened. Luckily, Xacksmiths’ leather armor prevented the point of the dart from piercing flesh. Xacksmith then opened the front door of the mansion wide, triggering another dust trap, which dispersed into the open street harmlessly. He saw Cuana and Tullweim and gave them a thumbs up signal. Both barbarians rushed into the building and Xacksmith pointed to the door where the Stygian had heard voices. Tullweim slammed his mighty thews against the door, burst it open, and surprised a group of 10 bandits in a banquet hall. The surprise did not stop the bandits for long as the leader ordered the thieves to action and they swarmed the Aesir, flanking him, their swords finding the chinks in his armor and biting deep into his flesh.

Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith went through the western door of the entry hall, triggering another poison dart trap that the Stygian nimbly avoided. They entered another room refurnished to be a sleeping quarters and Cuana knocked down the door which led to the banquet hall. Cuana and Xacksmith rushed into the room while Dhak spoke ancient words of power at one of the thieves. The unfortunate thief was struck by a tormenting pain that brought him to his knees, crying out in agony. Xacksmith feinted at one of the brigands and Cuana brought his sword down on the distracted thief, cleaving him in twain. In the same instant the Cimmerian unleashed a flurry of blows, stabbed his sword into the groin of a thief who jumped onto the table and cleaved the screaming head from the shoulders of the thief Dhak had ensorcelled.

Hemmed in on all sides but his back and bloodied from the multiple stabs the bandits had landed, Tullweim let his fury rise. Letting out a rage-fueled roar the Nordhiemer fought like a cornered lion, his opponents fell like lambs in a slaughter. The other adventurers came to his aid and used a combination of lethal strikes and the flats of their blades to bring the remaining 2 bandits into unconsciousness. Much of the wealth in the room had been destroyed, wild sword swings and fallen foes had demolished rare vases and figurines. Cuana, Dhak, and Tullweim tended to their wounds while Xacksmith explored the last room connected to the dining hall.

The door opened into a room which was elegant in the extreme, well-befitting the private chamber of a master thief. Like the rest of the mansion, there were many artistic items, including a bronze medallion with the grisly likeness of Al’Kiir upon it. Xacksmith’s keen eyes also saw a note written on vellum in a very fine, steady hand. The note said:

Actual wolves, stained red with the blood of others, will visit the house on Wolves’ Row today. Stay away.

Change is in the wind and even respected merchants are hung without fear in Ianthe. I strongly recommend you acquire the item tonight by whatever means you possess.

Your patron,

A

Xacksmith then thoroughly searched the room, uncovering a hidden compartment under the bed which contained a bag of 10 diamonds, an emerald ring, a gem-encrusted cup and 755 silver coins. Xacksmith pocketed some of the items and brought the rest, and the note, out to the banquet hall where Dhak and Tullweim were about to rouse their captives. The Hyrkanian informed the others about most of his findings and read the note to them. Cuana speculated that the ‘A’ signed in the letter could be Timeon’s ally Antimedes. Then Dhak roused the captives and questioned them about Galbro. They replied that they did not know where Galbro was, only that he had received distressing news and had taken 3 of his best with him to acquire the crucible they had been hired to steal. The thieves did not know who had hired Galbro. Dhak then asked about access to the second floor of the mansion, as the party had been in every room of the first floor and had seen no stairs. The thieves told him of a secret wall entrance in the south east room. With his questions answered, the Stygian drained and then sacrificed the two thieves, their blood-curdling cries echoed throughout the crumbling mansion. He used the potent energies harvested from Galbro’s men, the Elephant’s Heart, and the red bandana that had presumably belonged to the master thief to curse the man. Despite his efforts he sensed that the spell did not work as desired.

Meanwhile, Cuana, Tullweim and Xacksmith opened the catch to the secret entrance the thief had revealed and moved up the stairs to the 2nd floor. Cuana was in the lead and released a second catch opening the wall to a seemingly empty hallway. The Cimmerian moved into the hallway and 2 more thieves dropped down from the rafters above. Cuana was flanked and one of the brigands sunk his blade deep into the barbarians’ gut causing him to black out while the other thief closed and locked the wall entrance. Not knowing exactly what happened, but hearing the barbarian’s heavy fall onto the floor, Xacksmith worked furiously at unlocking the door. His efforts were not enough to bypass the complicated lock and Tullweim came up to try and break through the wall. After several attempts, the adventurers finally opened the wall and saw only Cuana, laying face-down in a pool of his own blood. Tullweim entered the hallway to give his ally aid while Xacksmith stayed in the stairwell. The 2 thieves once again dropped from the ceiling, but were not in a position to flank the Aesir. The battle was short, fierce, and bloody. Xacksmith was hurt badly by one of the thieves and Tullweim had taken a solid hit, but both foes were brought down. Tullweim looked to Xacksmith’s wounds while Dhak brought Cuana back from death’s maw. After sewing up their wounds, the mercenaries explored the 2nd floor of the mansion finding naught but rooms which had accumulated filth, debris, and mold from years of disuse. Afterwards the party decided to head out.

Night 3, To Catch a Thief

They walked back out to Ianthe’s streets and with scant daylight left, decided to head back to the mercantile district to purchase more healing salve. The merchant was eager to take the adventurer’s spoils in exchange for more Acacia salve. As he marveled at the diamonds presented to him he informed the party that he was running low on supplies should they need more, as they undoubtedly would. The party left, quickly coated their wounds with the salve and headed back to Timeon’s palace. Dhak stalled a bit and when the rest of the party was out of sight he located a prostitute. He convinced her to go into an alley with him, grabbed hold of her and gazed deep into her fear stricken eyes as he drained her for the mystical energy he had spent in his attempt to curse Galbro. After he was done he rushed forward to meet back up with the party at Baron Timeon’s palace.

Once at the palace, Enaro informed the group that there were 2 more deserters. Tullweim headed up to his room on the fourth floor while Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith stayed on the ground floor to discuss matters with Enaro and deal with morale. The party was surprised when Dhak sniffed the air, and said he smelled smoke. Cuana looked around and caught a whiff of the distinct smell of something burning as well. The Stygian quickly found a closed door which smoke seeped from behind. The door knob was hot to the touch. Cuana ran for a basin of water while Dhak opened the door, which sent billowed waves of smoke into his eyes. Dhak called out an alarm for water and several Crimson Wolves responded. The Wolves looked around them and through the windows Xacksmith caught a glimpse of furtive figures who stole through the shadows towards the palace wall. He shouted an alarm and went to meet the intruders. There were 3 brigands in leather armor, but not dressed like Galbro’s men. The Hyrkanian and 3 Crimson Wolves engaged the enemies, who fell back and unleashed stones from their slings. Dhak once again used the power of the Elephant’s Heart to attempt to curse Galbro. He gazed through the crimson jewel at the thief’s bandana and uttered ancient words of power. This time, the Stygian felt his great curse had succeeded, but at a high cost. Dhak felt his strength ebb from him and he had to lean on a wall to keep his legs steady.

On the 4th floor, Tullweim approached his room and noticed that the door was ajar. He threw the door open and saw the room had been ransacked and 4 thieves stood inside. 3 of the brigands were Ophirean and one was a Zingaran. A Zingaran with a familiar face, as Tullweim recognized the sly features of the man he’d seen at the Bull & Bear inn weeks ago, he uttered simply, “Galbro.” One of Galbro’s thugs had Accalia restrained and the Zingaran said, “Bring me the crucible.” Tullweim replied, “we don’t have it,” and began to draw his greatsword. Galbro held up his hands in a manner suggesting peace and then struck at the Nordheimer like a cobra. Two of the other thieves moved in to flank the barbarian and their blades bit deep. Tullweim reeled from the attacks, fell back through the doorway, and heard a woman’s scream from the floor above.

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12-05-2008, 11:41 AM

Night 3 continued

Galbro leveled a steely gaze at Tullweim and repeated his demand, “give me the crucible!” The Aesir’s barbarian instincts screamed at him to rush into the room sword swinging but Tullweim knew he couldn’t take all 4 thieves and live to tell the tale. The desperation in Galbro’s face was obvious to the barbarian so he took a step back and said, “I’ll take you to it.” The master thief nodded, “drop your sword.” The barbarian dropped his greatsword and 2 of the Ophirean thieves flanked Tullweim, followed by Galbro, who held his sword at the barbarian’s side. Tullweim told the Zingaran thief that the urn was downstairs. Galbro turned to the thief who restrained Accalia and said, “If you hear any struggle, kill the girl.” The young slave-girl gave a frightened look to Tullweim and the thief stifled her scream. Tullweim turned with a stern but resigned look on his face and led the 3 thieves to the stairs. When they reached the stairwell, Taras stood in the way. The Zamorian had traveled down from the floor above to investigate. Tullweim told him to return upstairs and the surprised Zamorian quickly nodded in assent.

Meanwhile, in the gardens below, Xacksmith and 3 Crimson Wolves squared off with 3 bandits, garbed differently than Galbro’s men. The brigands’ sling bullets bounced off the Wolves’ armor and they were able to close in on 2 of the intruders. The thieves both attempted to tumble out of reach and one was killed in the attempt. The other was knocked unconscious by the Hyrkanian, and the third scaled the wall and was over in seconds, he quickly vanished through the streets and alleyways before the slower mercenaries could give chase.

At the same moment, Cuana made his way up the stairs and was surprised to run into Tullweim surrounded by enemies, one of which he recognized from the Bull and Bear, and no resistance was apparent. The Cimmerian growled and reached for his sword when Tullweim ordered Cuana to back off. Cuana slowly moved back down the stairs and Galbro demanded he move 30 feet past the landing of the lower floor. Dhak’s keen ears had heard the Aesir’s order to Cuana just as Xacksmith re-entered the palace with his captive. The Stygian gave a knowing look to Xacksmith, told the Crimson Wolves that entered with him to stand ready and hid behind a divan with bow drawn. The Hyrkanian pressed up against the stairs so nobody who walked down would see him.

It did not take long for Tullweim, Galbro, and the thieves to reach the ground floor of Baron Timeon’s palace, with Cuana who moved down a flight above them silent as a panther. The Zingaran looked around at the armed mercenaries and suspected a trick and pressed his sword to Tullweim’s side. The Aesir barbarian responded, “1,000 silver to the man that gives me Galbro’s head!” Though the barbarian was able to step aside, Galbro and one of his best managed to find chinks in the barbarian’s armor where they drove steel deep into flesh. Xacksmith used the opportunity to surprise Galbro and deliver a fierce sneak attack. Cuana rushed down the steps with a scream of rage and leapt into the fray. Dhak fired his Stygian bow and hit his targets with keen precision. Tullweim drew his broadsword, that in the thieves hurried desperation to retrieve the urn had not been taken from him, and brought it down with such might that the blade shattered on the Zingaran. The 3 Nemedian Crimson Wolves engaged the intruders but one of the Wolves was quickly struck down by one of Galbro’s best. They knew they could not stand to the odds they faced so the Zingaran thief made a last stab at Tullweim and sunk the blade deep into the barbarian’s gut which caused him to fall. The next to fall were 2 of the thieves as Dhak ordered to take Galbro and his men alive and the warriors struck with the flats of their blades. The Stygian sunk 2 quickly shot arrows into Galbro. One arrow was stopped by the thief’s leather armor and knocked the wind out of the Zingaran, the other grazed the thief’s neck which caused him to succumb to the many blows he’d taken and fall unconscious.

The 2 Nemedian Crimson Wolves looked morosely at their fallen comrade and leader. Cuana tended to Tullweim’s dire wounds and it was but fate that the barbarian still lived. As Tullweim roused and was informed of the situation with 4 prisoners to question, the Aesir told Cuana to inform Baron Timeon that they had captured Katos’ murderer. Tullweim then rushed to his room on the 4th floor. There laid Accalia, her slender ivory throat slit and no sign of the last of Galbro’s thieves. Tullweim picked up his greatsword, swore and quickly went upstairs to investigate the scream he’d heard when first confronting Galbro. He looked in the doorway of Lady Julia’s room and saw that a struggle had taken place. Tullweim searched the room and found blood in a corner of the room. Written on the wall clumsily in the blood were the words “hawk” and “urn.” No other clues were found, so the barbarian returned downstairs where Cuana waited with an ecstatic Baron Timeon. The fat noble showered praise on the Aesir and told him to have his men take the 4 prisoners down to the cellars for interrogation.

The party accompanied Baron Timeon to the cellars where Galbro was the first to be revived and questioned. The Zingaran knew he was in a situation he could not win in, but yet may survive. The thief offered all he knew about his employer in exchange for his freedoom. Tullweim, his face conflicted with emotions of revenge and success in his task, agreed. Timeon was outraged, he picked up a loose shaft of iron and beat Galbro in a frenzy of anger until he was stopped by Tullweim. Afterwards, when Galbro’s most recent wounds were tended to, the thief told the adventurer’s of his meetings with a woman who wore a mask with 4 horns on it, 2 pointing upwards, 2 pointing down. She referred to Galbro and herself as servants to the Avatar, and that the thief would recognize missives from his employer by the signing of the letter ‘A’. The Zingaran also let known that the woman would sometimes send messages by bird and she seemed to have an unnatural control over them. Tullweim, true to his word, ordered Galbro be released. Cuana undid the thief’s restraints and led him to Timeon’s palace gate. As they walked, Galbro half-smiled and asked the Cimmerian, “Would you like to know how we got into your heavily guarded palace with such ease?” Cuana nodded and Galbro motioned his head up towards a balcony on the fifth floor of the palace and said, “I simply paid your thief more to look the other way than he was being paid to keep watch.” A shocked look came over Cuana’s face, he thanked the Zingaran for the information and received a nod as the master thief left into Ianthe’s darkened streets.

The Cimmerian looked up and called out to Taras for the Zamorian to come down to the entry hall. After having seen Cuana escort Galbro off the premises Taras was skeptical and asked what Galbro had told the barbarian. The Cimmerian said the Zingaran had merely stated he needed to flee the city quickly. Taras saw through Cuana’s clumsy lie, shook his head, turned, and scaled the wall to the roof of the palace. Cuana ran inside the palace and shouted out an alarm for everyone to quickly mobilize outside. When the Crimson Wolves had gathered in the gardens of Baron Timeon’s palace Cuana pointed to Taras on the roof. Cuana told the mercenaries to surround the building and make sure the Zamorian did not escape. The Cimmerian and Hyrkanian then ran to opposite ends of the palace and scaled the walls. Once the rooftop was reached, Cuana on one side, Xacksmith on the other and Taras in between, Tullweim shouted up for Taras to come down and they would discuss things. The Zamorian was fully aware of how discussions tended to go with the Aesir and refused, he brandished a blade to keep Cuana and Xacksmith away. The Cimmerian and Hyrkanian attempted to close in on the Zamorian, but the steepled rooftop proved difficult to move across. Both adventurers stumbled and slid down the slope but caught themselves at the edge of the roof. Taras attempted to stab at Cuana, but even as he hung by one hand the barbarian was able to dodge his thrust. Dhak drew a bead on the Zamorian and let an arrow fly which caught Taras in the side and caused him to fall from the roof’s edge. Alas, Taras died in Baron Timeon’s gardens. Afterwards, the Crimson Wolves had a funeral service for their fallen members and Accalia. Once finished the guards returned to their posts and the party retired for the night.

The last morning in the Baron’s palace

The early morning quiet was shattered by an ear-piercing woman’s scream. The Crimson Wolves grabbed their weapons and sped up the stairs to Baron Timeon’s room. On the floor was their noble patron, his eyes rolled back into his head, his face in a grimace of pain, his doxy shivered in the corner, barely wrapped in a sheet where she whimpered. Tullweim rolled the Baron on his back and questioned Timeon’s mistress. She replied that he had just got out of bed and had talked to her, he poured himself some wine as he did every morning and he ate when he suddenly fell to the floor, gagging, and shaking. Dhak looked the body over and determined there were no wounds. Tullweim nodded and said, “Poisoned.” The party looked about the room, the girl still whimpered into her hands, the Baron’s chamberlain looked ill at the sight of his dead master. Cuana suggested that Vanemoth would have had the chance to poison either Timeon’s fruit or his cup. The chamberlain bristled at the accusation and Tullweim stood over the man, a half-formed lie died on the servants lips. The Aesir demanded the truth and gestured at the Stygian and his means of uncovering what men would keep hidden. Vanemoth attempted a weak denial, but crumbled under the weight of the adventurer’s stares. The chamberlain said he had been paid more money than he had ever had in his lifetime, by a man wearing a black mask, to poison Baron Timeon. Tullweim grabbed the servant and demanded to know where the silver he’d been paid was to keep as evidence of his betrayal when a loud knock sounded on the palace doors. The party looked outside and saw a royal official with 8 armed members of the city-watch. Cuana turned to Tullweim and expressed his concern that the Crimson Wolves had been set up. Tullweim nodded, gave instructions to keep the chamberlain and Timeon’s doxy in the room with the Baron’s body and moved down the stairs to answer the door.

Once opened, the royal inquisitor introduced himself as Theteles and demanded to speak with either the lord of the palace or the commander of the mercenary company. Tullweim told Theteles that he was the commander of the company and the inquisitor produced papers which bore the seal of a magistrate with orders to arrest Cuana for the murder of an officer of the court. The Aesir told the inquisitor to wait in the entry hall and that he would fetch the Cimmerian. Dhak and Xacksmith remained in the entry hall with the on-duty Crimson Wolves, the tension hung thickly in the room. Tullweim reached Cuana in the Baron’s chambers and told him of the watch’s plans to arrest Cuana for killing the tax collector and said to flee. The Cimmerian replied that he would scale the city wall and be at the edge of the Sarellian forest where he would leave a mark on a tree and climbed out the balcony. Tullweim then grabbed Vanemoth and Timeon’s doxy. He told Vanemoth to retrieve the silver he’d been paid and then escorted both to the entry hall.

Meanwhile, Xacksmith made moves to leave the entry hall. Theteles stated that no one was to leave until the barbarian murderer had been presented. The Hyrkanian began to challenge the inquisitor when the door was knocked upon again. Dhak moved to open it and saw a beautiful red-locked noblewoman with an escort of 2 bodyguards. The lady introduced herself as Countess Synelle and told the Stygian she was there to see Baron Timeon. Dhak informed the Countess of the dire circumstances the company was in and beseeched her for aid as Tullweim returned with Vanemoth and Timeon’s mistress. Tullweim told Theteles about Vanemoth’s crime and presented the trembling chamberlain. The inquisitor listened intently and informed that he would take the murderer into custody, but there was still the matter of the Cimmerian. Tullweim said that he had fled some time during the night. Theteles was about to arrest the Aesir when Countess Synelle intervened. She stated that she was interested in hiring the mercenary company and would pay the taxes owed should they take her offer. The inquisitor was still intent on collecting the criminal when Synelle interjected with the fact that she was favored by General Iskandrian. The inquisitor relented, bowed and took a voucher from Synelle for the taxes, Vanemoth, the Baron’s doxy, and the blood money the servant had been paid. Countess Synelle turned to Tullweim and offered twice what the Baron had paid them. She said she was in need of more armed guards as the situation in Ophir was getting more dangerous by the day, when nobles are murdered in their bed chambers. Tullweim accepted and the lady ran her fingers through the barbarian’s hair, kissed him on the cheek and then slapped him for being too fresh. The Countess took her leave and informed the Crimson Wolves that a messenger would arrive later in the day with instructions.

A few hours later a messenger arrived with instructions for the mercenary company to re-locate at a house Countess Synelle owns on the Street of Crowns. The Crimson Wolves gathered their belongings and made to leave their home of the past long weeks. Tullweim tacked a note on the door of Timeon’s palace which said where the company would be in case Cuana returned. As the company traveled to their new home, the Aesir paid a young messenger to go to the Sarellian forest and tell the Cimmerian where they would be. The boy did not wish to leave the city but Tullweim offered enough silver to convince him. He then tore off his Crimson Wolf patch and gave it to the boy to give to Cuana. The messenger ran off and the company continued to the Street of Crowns.

The streets which led to the mercenaries new home were dirty, the paving cracked. The buildings were tottering, the inhabitants filthy. The adventurers could hear the troops begin to mutter, disdainful of whatever rat-hole they were being led to. Unfortunately, those mutterings foretold the future. The house was indeed dismal, in disrepair, full of birds, rats, and fleas. It was quite a change from the luxury of the Baron’s palace. Several of the men cursed under their breath. Tullweim called the troops attention and reminded them of the increased pay they would receive, but the demeanor of the mercenaries was still grim. Dhak then told the company to look at their colors and banner. They were the Crimson Wolves! They’d killed their enemies and slept on rocks while in the field. They were men and should carry themselves as such. The Stygian’s words inspired the company, enough to at least try the new accommodations.

Later, the messenger boy stood nervously at the edge of the Sarellian forest. He looked about him for the mercenary he was supposed to find and to watch for any bandits that preyed on passing travelers. The boy nearly screamed when a heavy hand was put on his shoulder. The boy stared up at the huge barbarian and stammered out, “are you Cuana of the Crimson Wolves?” The Cimmerian nodded in assent and the boy handed him Tullweim’s patch and relayed the commander’s message. Cuana thanked the boy and walked back to the city, reached the wall and easily scaled it. He returned to Timeon’s palace, found Tullweim’s note, and broke in and went to the Baron’s empty chambers. The barbarian thoroughly searched the room and discovered a secret panel with a small bag which held 16 diamonds. Cuana smiled and took his find with him to the house on the Street of Crowns.

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12-05-2008, 11:44 AM

The Request

The next morning several wagons arrived, full of gear for the Crimson Wolves. There were blankets, red wool cloaks, razors, mirrors, and good food. There was also one pair of high black Aquilonian boots for each member of the Free Company. The troops were appeased by these presents and along with them came slaves to clean the house.

Shortly thereafter, another slave arrived with a message from Countess Synelle, requesting that Tullweim go to her mansion. Cuana, Dhak and Xacksmith wondered if they should go as well and it was decided that they would all travel to see what the Countess had to say. The party ventured to the opposite side of Ianthe and walked through an area of the city full of gleaming palaces and exalted temples. Synelle’s servant who had accompanied the mercenaries pounded a ring on the gate and was met by a bearded, one-eyed soldier who eyed the sellswords suspiciously. Tullweim held out the note he’d been given and was told only he would be admitted.

The Aesir took in the sight of the Countess’ mansion as he moved through the gardens to the heavy front door. Once Tullweim entered the front hall he saw a broad-shouldered man with black hair and a proud nose lounging on a divan. The man sneered at the barbarian with a scathing remark to which Tullweim responded in kind. Affronted, the noble drew his sword and declared, “You must not know who I am, outlander. I am Lord Taramenon, and will not be spoken to in this manner without challenge.” Obviously skilled with a blade, the enraged noble landed two solid hits on the Nordheimer, but could not penetrate past the mercenaries’ armor. Tullweim lifted his greatsword in response but found both of his mighty swings easily parried by the noble. Before the fight could go further, Countess Synelle intervened and demanded an end to the swordplay. Taramenon sheathed his sword, bowed before the Countess and begged her pardon. Tullweim put his sword away as well and also offered his apologies. The Countess thanked the barbarian for arriving with haste and led him to her study where she asked him to sit, then pointedly said, “You torment me, you know that, don’t you?” She stood perplexed for a moment, then seemed to change her mind about something and suddenly became quite business-like. She called a servant in to fetch the Aesir’s companions and handed Tullweim half the company’s wages as promised.

Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith walked through the manor and passed Lord Taramenon on the way. The arrogant noble eyed the mercenaries with disdain but they paid him no heed. Once they entered Synelle’s chambers the Countess solicited their opinion about the feasibility of stealing the royal scepter from the ailing King Valdric. She had little to say except that she knew he always had it with him and that the King seldom ventured outside the Royal Palace. The surprised mercenaries inquired as to why the Countess wanted the scepter and she replied simply that it was the true symbol of Ophir. She informed the party that Count Valentius had the strongest claim to the throne but several of the nobles feared General Iskandrian would attempt a coup. If Valentius had the scepter the people of Ophir would recognize him as the ruler no matter what challenge the White Eagle of Ophir presented. Tullweim said the mercenaries were in the Countess’ employ and would do what she asked. Synelle smiled at the mercenaries and concluded the meeting.

The Death of the King

As the mercenaries made their way back to their headquarters on the Street of Crowns they heard muted horns sound dimly in the night air which echoed through Ianthe’s naked streets. King Valdric was dead. Mourning cloths of black and white were hung from shuttered windows. The public fountains were shrouded. Sprigs of sa’karian were nailed on every door, the plants’ black and white berries symbolized death and rebirth. The sound of wailing was everywhere. Whether the people cried for the King or for themselves was not known, but none could blame them if they cried for their own safety. War was inevitable now and would soon reach even Ianthe’s cobbled streets. Ophir faced hazardous times, hazardous even for a company of soldiers and cut-throats.

The party moved about the somber scene and quickly heard proclamations from the City Guard which paraded the streets:

General Iskandrian has declared martial law. Anyone seen on the streets is subject to arrest. The gates of Ianthe are sealed and cannot be opened by any except those bearing direct authorization from Iskandrian.

His majesty Eupherius II. formerly Iskandrian the Eagle, has mounted the golden throne, Pray for him his subjects and rejoice in his great name.

They also caught a few rumors among the dispersing crowds:

Count Valentius is the rightful heir to the throne, but he’s been kidnapped.

King Valdric’s body, crown and scepter, are supposed to lay in state for 10 days in the Throne Room. If Iskandrian has taken the throne, he’s broken the ancient law. But even if he dared take the crown, he’d never dare take the sacred scepter in violation of such an ancient decree.

The mercenaries quickened their pace due to the news and a block from their headquarters saw a shape fall from the roof and hang in front of their door. The shape swung in a disturbing manner, reminiscent of a worm on a hook. As they neared, they realized with horror the shape was that of a man hung upside down, the poor wretch had been skinned alive. Cuana and Tullweim lifted the man who gurgled and struggled painfully within their grasp. The Aesir cut the rope which held the man and he was quickly brought inside. Tullweim ordered Enaro to take a head count of the men to see if the bloody heap was one of the Crimson Wolves and laid the man on a blanket. Dhak tended to the man and found that his tongue and eyes had been gouged out and his ears shorn from his head. Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith left the wretch in the Stygian’s care while they made their way to the roof of the building to search for any clue as to who had dropped the man. All they found on the roof in the darkness was a small pool of blood and a spear which had been thrust into the roof with the remainder of the rope the man had swung from. Cuana grabbed the spear in the hopes that the Stygian would be able to divine who was responsible for this atrocity and the three returned indoors.

Once inside they presented the spear to Dhak, who explained that he could not use it as a focus unless he already knew to whom it belonged. Enaro returned and reported that all the sellswords had been accounted for. The Stygian then revealed he knew the identity of the victim. Due to the size of the frame of the victim as well as the few characteristics not removed, Dhak said with certainty that the man who laid before them was none other than Galbro, the thief who had until recently hounded the party for the crucible of Al’Kiir. The party looked upon the wretch with pity, fully aware that by sending the thief out on his own with no coin or weapons and with a powerful curse upon his head he was likely easy pickings for his tormentor. Tullweim’s face hardened with resignation and with a quick thrust of his greatsword he put the Zingaran thief out of his misery.

That grisly work done, the party convened in a separate room to plan the theft of the Royal Scepter. With Martial Law in effect the mercenaries knew they would have to move like thieves across the city. With Galbro fresh on their minds, it was decided their best chance to move freely would be by rooftop so as to completely avoid the city watch. Tullweim then went to the nearby chimney, removed his armor, and rubbed soot and ash on his body which dulled his pale skin. The other sellswords followed his example and Cuana took Xacksmith’s rope and tied knots in intervals along its length. After the party was completely covered in soot they went to the rooftop and began the slow steady travel across the dark city. As they neared the palace walls the mercenaries saw a group of city guards who herded a group of people towards one of the jails. The adventurers waited for them to pass, then continued towards the palace.

At the palace, Cuana easily climbed up 40 feet and stooped between a gap in the crenelated wall. The Cimmerian could see the torches of patrolling guards all along the wall. Looking into the grounds themselves, Cuana saw a massive amount of troops gathered. It appeared as if they were preparing to move out soon, probably at first light. Knowing it would be difficult to get past such a large number of troops, the barbarian lowered the knotted rope to get his allies on the wall. He was surprised when he heard a voice which issued a challenge. Two guards quickly moved in to apprehend the intruder and called out to the watch in the nearby tower. A loud bell rang in the tower as an alarm to the rest of the soldiers. Cuana attempted to climb down the rope he had just lowered and heard the clang of sword on stone as one of the watchmen cut it. The barbarian plummeted 20 feet to the hard ground. The Cimmerian picked himself up and scrambled out of sight. The gate was opened and 20 men poured out searching for the intruder. The party scaled the wall of a nearby 3 story building and settled on the roof. The watchmen searched for hours but could not locate the party, which decided to settle for the night on the rooftop as they’d determined it too risky to attempt to steal away into the night.

Storming the Gate

The next morning the mercenaries awoke with backs aching and a chill in their bones to the sound of marching boots and hooves. When the party investigated, they witnessed a large mass of troops exiting the palace with King Eupherius at its head. He wore the crown of Ophir but did not carry the scepter. The troops were met by soldiers throughout the city, all headed to one of the 3 gates out of Ianthe. It seemed only a bare bones of troops had been left behind to defend the palace and indeed the entire city. The adventurers traveled through the alleys, passed closed shops, witnessed some looting on the way to their headquarters and avoided the few city watchmen they saw. Once they arrived they found a furtive man awaited them with an anonymous message.

Tullweim, Be at the Gate of Avanrakash at dusk, ready for action. If any should seek entrance, aid them by releasing the gate mechanism atop the right tower. Any who attack are our friends, but I think I know who you will thus greet. Afterwards, report quickly to me. Your Lady

The letter was accompanied by a delicate ring which Tullweim recognized as Countess Synelle’s. The mercenaries ate some of Fabio’s stew and Dhak slept until late afternoon. The party then moved towards the Gate of Avanrakash. More looting took place as they passed and the severely depleted city watch had their hands full which made movement about the alleys and streets a bit easier. However, when the party was nearly halfway to their destination they were spotted by 6 watchmen who ordered them to stop. Cuana and Tullweim stepped out of the alley as ordered, then insulted the watchmen. Weapons were drawn, steel rang, and blood was spilt. Dhak and Xacksmith stayed near the rear of the alley and engaged two of the watch who attempted to flank around the barbarians. Only one of the watchmen survived the encounter as he fled while his companions fell.

The mercenaries arrived at the Gate of Avanrakash at dusk. There they found 10 watchmen atop the gate wall which attempted to repel men-at-arms who scaled the wall from the outside. Xacksmith picked the lock to the tower door and the party moved in. Only two guards were at the gate mechanism atop the right tower. The party engaged the two guards, recognized them as the very same guards who had accused Xacksmith of cheating at dice, and had intentionally fed Dhak mis-information about Galbro. The guards were dispatched quickly, but not before they could call out for aid. Tullweim and Cuana held back the rest of the guards while Dhak and Xacksmith strained against the gate winch to move it mere inches. The gate’s door was moved a third of the way up when Dhak left his position to aid in the killing of the guards. Xacksmith was not strong enough to operate the winch himself and the gate crashed down. The Hyrkanian called for help and Cuana took up the burden next to Xacksmith. Even together they could not move the winch as the Cimmerian’s hands were covered in blood and he could not hold his grip. Cuana went back to dispatching guards and Xacksmith found a reserve of strength the Hyrkanian had never known he had as he strained against the winch and opened the gate. After which 20 men-at-arms with the colors of Count Valentius rushed inside with a great shout. The gate was then closed and Valentius’ men remained to guard it. They were grateful to Tullweim and company and thanked them for their aid. Tullweim then ordered his men to go to Countess Synelle’s mansion.

When they arrived at the mansion they found it well guarded by 50 cavalry, who barred their way and challenged them. Lord Taramenon soon appeared and disdainfully escorted the party inside to Synelle. Once they arrived, he sneered at them, “Barbars are good for something then, after all. They can be trained to open doors.” Synelle interrupted and said, ””Well done. We now hold all three gates in the city. They have been seized by Valentius’ and our own troops. Fool that Iskandrian was to trust me. Just because I am a woman, he felt safe allowing me troops within the city walls, thinking I would not know how to use them, treating them as if they were a woman’s baubles, nothing more. But you have shown him your might, Iskandrian’s army still holds the Royal Palace. Our army of nobles, led by Counts Clavanedes, has gathered in Asmark and is already pressing Iskandrian back. If he attempts to retreat into Ianthe, he will be surprised to find the gates held against him, trapped with his back against the walls. I want you soon to take your remaining troops plus 25 of my own cavalry and ride out to join the battle which is about to begin. However, first you must enter the Royal Palace, go to the Throne Room, take the royal scepter, and carry it into battle with you. It is a sign of the rightness of our cause. The spirit of Avanrakash still rests upon it, blessing it when used in purposes of right, cursing it when used for wrong. Which,” she adds, “is why Iskandrian was afraid to take it along.” Tullweim nodded, told the Lady her will would be done, and quickly led his men out of the mansion.

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12-05-2008, 11:46 AM

Taking the Scepter

Cuana, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith managed to avoid the looters and few city watchmen who attempted desperately to maintain a semblance of order in the darkened streets of Ianthe. The mercenaries returned to their headquarters on the Street of Crowns, ate a quick meal of Fabio’s and went to the chimney where they removed their armor and covered themselves with soot and ash. Once their pale skins were sufficiently darkened, the sellswords moved about the cities’ labyrinthine alleyways towards the Royal Palace. Their movement was silent but for a single misstep by their Aesir leader, who knocked over a pile of refuse with a loud crash. Shortly thereafter, hushed voices and heavy footfalls were heard from the streets, headed towards the parties’ location. The watchmen shone a torch into the alley, barked out a challenge, but did not see anyone and deemed not to enter. They were putting their lives at risk just wandering the streets that night and did not wish to tempt fate further. One of the watchmen decided it had been a cat that made the noise and they backed out into the street to continue their patrol. After the watch were gone, the mercenaries stepped out of the shadows, sheathed their blades, and stole into the night towards the Palace.

Once the Palace walls were in sight the sellswords found the gates barred, the portcullis down. Amid the rising blood-red full moon they maneuvered to the rear face of the wall and Cuana quickly scaled the 40 feet to the top with Xacksmith’s silken rope over his shoulder. The Cimmerian crouched low, he could see the torch lights on the wall the guards carried in the distance, and in the nearest tower he heard two men make nervous conversation behind a closed door. The barbarian quickly uncoiled the silk rope, wrapped it hastily around a merlon, and threw it down to his companions below. Xacksmith grabbed the rope and climbed up, getting about halfway before the loose knot Cuana had tied came undone. The barbarian attempted to catch the rope before it fell but was not quick enough and the Hyrkanian plummeted 20 feet to the hard ground below. Xacksmith was agile enough to twist himself in mid-air and roll with the fall, and received little more than a few cuts and bruises. The Hyrkanian picked up the fallen rope, saw no cut on it, and looked up with an annoyed expression. Cuana could not quite make out his allies in the darkness but saw the rope Tullweim tossed back up and caught it. The Cimmerian wrapped the rope around a merlon but did not attempt to again tie it. Instead he held onto the rope and braced himself while his companions climbed up.

With everyone on the wall, the party looked for patrols below. None were seen and the Stygian speculated that perhaps bestial guardians hid in the shadows. The gates were well-guarded, and dim lights shone in the towers. The rest of the palace was black and appeared empty. The place smelt of fear, of men trapped and besieged within their own fortress, deserted by their commander. Iskandrian had taken nearly the entire garrison with him to crush the nobles. The sycophants which surrounded the king had vanished, fearful lest they be caught in the coming holocaust. The Throne Room’s gold dome glinted palely beneath the moon. Xacksmith saw a guard on the wall, near an opposite tower, who was about to turn to patrol the sellswords’ location and spurred the adventurers to action.

Dhak pushed a pouch into Cuana’s hands and instructed the Cimmerian to cast it into the nearby room, close the door, and take care not to breathe in the dust or risk succumbing to madness. The Stygian grabbed an arrow, slathered extract from the Upas tree he’d gathered months ago, and let it fly at the lone patrolmen. The arrow was stopped by the guards’ hauberk and he looked up to see Xacksmith let loose an arrow of his own and Tullweim charge the man-at-arms, ending his life with a thrust of the Aesir’s greatsword. At the same time the Cimmerian did as he was instructed and cast the grey lotus dust into the room with the 2 guards conversing. The guards coughed and gagged as the dust filled the room. A moment later, Cuana heard tittering laughter come from the room followed by a hate-filled roar and the sound of steel cleaving flesh over and over again. Meanwhile, the Aesir barbarian and Hyrkanian thief had dispatched the patrolmans’ partner inside the opposite tower as Dhak approached and urged the party to move down the stairs into the gardens below. Tullweim accompanied the Stygian while Xacksmith made his way to Cuana, just as the Cimmerian leapt over the side of the wall and climbed down. The Hyrkanian was about to descend as well when the nearby door opened and a wide-eyed, growling, blood-stained watchmen stood in the moonlight. The thief did not wish to cross swords with a man affected by lotus and jumped down to the gardens below, tumbled at the last second and added to the collection of bruises he’d acquired that night. The crazed guard stood on the edge of the wall with bloody sword raised and leapt down, howling like a beast the entire way. The weight of his armor caused the guard to hit the ground with a sickening thud, bones snapped and his life spilt out onto the cobblestone walkway.

Xacksmith joined up with Dhak and Tullweim but none saw any sign of Cuana. Separated from his allies the Cimmerian did not know they planned to meet up with him below and had moved further towards the golden dome of the Palace after he descended off the wall. As he moved through deep shadows next to an impressive keep, Cuana was startled by a metallic sound that broke the night’s stillness. The barbarian froze and looked about in anticipation of an attack. Not seeing anyone and with curiosity piqued, Cuana decided to round the corner. He explored a side of the keep he could see in the moonlight and found a barred window. Knowing he couldn’t breach the heavy iron bars he moved further along the keep to a shuttered window. He put his thews to use, ripped off one of the shutters and climbed into the keep. Inside, the Cimmerian found himself in a corridor with doors on either end and a single sconce with a lit torch, which he procured for his own use. Cuana tested one of the heavy doors and found it to be locked. The barbarian then went to the opposite door and easily opened it revealing an office of some sort. A single desk and several chairs furnished the scroll-lined room. The Cimmerian sifted through the papers on the desk and found a ledger with a list of names and dates. From other papers he gleaned that the office belonged to the Royal Torturer and the names in the ledger were people brought to the dungeons at the King’s pleasure. Only one name in the ledger was not crossed off, but the name ‘Agatho’ was unfamiliar to the barbarian. He searched for keys to the locked door when he heard heavy footfalls sound from an opposite door.

Meanwhile, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith approached the golden-domed Royal Palace where King Valdric was said to lay in state for 10 days. Unchallenged thus far as no alarm had yet been sounded and the majority of the remaining guards were on the walls or patrolled closer to the gate, the mercenaries scaled up 30 feet to a window in the Palace wall. Before them laid the splendor of the Ophirean throne room, one of the most opulent in the Hyborian realms. Tapestries hung from the walls to a height of 20 feet. Ornate scroll-work stretched up to the domed ceiling. The throne was of solid gold, carved with leopards and eagles. The beasts had ruby eyes and held emeralds in their talons and claws. On the throne laid the scepter, the Staff of Avanrakash, encrusted with rubies and emeralds. There were no guards to be seen, no sounds to be heard. King Valdric laid on a bier next to the throne. Tullweim and Xacksmith dropped to the tapestry 10 feet below and climbed down to the marble floor. Dhak had a bit more trouble as he lost his hold on the tapestry and slid down hard. Tullweim helped his Stygian ally up and they moved towards the scepter. Xacksmith was overcome by the wealth on the throne and attempted to pry precious stones loose as Dhak held out his hand, muttered ancient words which levitated the scepter to his hand. Unbeknown to the Stygian there were the thinnest of threads connecting the scepter to the throne which snapped upon the staff’s movement. This triggered a mechanical catch which opened up a door under the throne. 5 foot-long scorpions moved out of the darkness and scuttled menacingly towards the thieves.

Back in the keep, Cuana set the ledger and torch down on the desk and quickly moved to the side of the door just as it opened. A rotund man entered the room and gasped as his desk was quickly being alight with flames. Before he could act, the Cimmerian slashed the man across his back which staggered him to the floor. The Royal Torturer turned with a snarl on his face, uncoiled a whip at his side and expertly entangled Cuana’s legs with it. The smile on the fat man’s face quickly fell as he tried in vain to trip the barbarian. Cuana roared and swung his greatsword which split the torturer’s head like a ripe melon. The Cimmerian quickly searched the body and found a ring of keys, one of which he hoped would open the heavy door down the corridor. Then the barbarian tended to the fire which had quickly consumed the scrolls on the desk and had spread to those on the shelves. Cuana lifted the dead jailer and slammed him onto the desk which smothered most of the flame and filled the room with a foul shroud of smoke. The barbarian grabbed the barely lit torch, then stamped out the remaining scattered embers and moved out to the corridor. After several tries, he found the key which unlocked the door and entered the dark stairs down.

Beneath the golden dome of the Royal Palace, Dhak declared, “Black balls of Set!” and cast flame powder at the scorpions. The powder lit upon contact, the flames burned the scorpions and the fine rug underneath. Near death but enraged, the scorpions rushed towards the adventurers. Xacksmith, still in his reverie of the wealth in front of him barely noticed the vermin as one of the scorpions drove it’s stinger into his leg. Tullweim swung his sword and killed one of the creatures, but two more were upon him and one stung him as well. Dhak tried to keep his distance, but the many legs of the scorpion carried it within reach of the Stygian and he too suffered a poison-filled sting. Tullweim and Xacksmith’s fortitude was such that even though they felt the poison course through their veins they did not succumb to it. Dhak was not so lucky. His face lost it’s color as he felt some of his vigor leave him, though not enough to rob the Stygian of his life. The scorpions were not so fortunate as Tullweim and Xacksmith crushed those they faced. Dhak had another fate in mind for the creature which had struck him. He again muttered alien words and the animal writhed in agony, twitching painfully into unconsciousness. The Stygian then grabbed his cloak, carefully wrapped the creature in it, and secured it with a tight knot. With that threat dealt with the mercenaries were now free to deal with the next, the flames that had traveled across the rug and lit King Valdric’s corpse! Tullweim muttered that there would be hell to pay if those in power ever learned of the desecration they had caused while stamping out the fire with a torn tapestry. After the fire was put out and with scepter in hand Tullweim ordered Dhak and Xacksmith back out the window. There was a battle yet to be fought and they could not waste time. Dhak inquired about Cuana, to which Tullweim replied, “The Cimmerian’s either captured or already gone. Either way he can handle himself. Now move!”

The Cimmerian walked down the stairs and came to a dungeon. All manner of instruments of torture were spread throughout the catacombs. Some, the barbarian knew well, others he could only imagine the sort of pain meant to inflict. He then came to a row of cells. All were empty save one. In the occupied cell sat a man in tattered clothing. The man had a boyish face with fat lips and appeared to have seen at least 30 winters by Cuana’s reckoning. The barbarian called out to the man as he searched for a key that would open the cell. The man did not respond in the least. Cuana opened the cell door and entered, he grabbed the man and asked if he was Agatho. Still no acknowledgment but a blank stare. Cuana saw the man’s eyes were rolled up into his head, but appeared to have not suffered the hot poker or any other form of abuse. Knowing that time was being wasted in the cell and not wishing to linger any longer, the barbarian grabbed the wretch and slung him over his shoulder. He carried the prisoner out to the Palace Wall and climbed the stairs in the tower. The Cimmerian knew he would not be able to carry the man and climb down without aid, so he searched the two nearby towers for rope. He found a 10 foot length of rope in the alarm bells of both towers, the rest he improvised by tearing the tunics of the dead men-at-arms.

The Last Battle

Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith returned to the Crimson Wolves headquarters and donned their armor. With the scepter in hand, the Aesir addressed the mercenaries and announced that they were to go to battle that night. The response was less than enthused as one of the Nemedian Adventurers declared the folly of following a barbarian with orders from a woman to meet a stronger force in the dead of night. Tullweim addressed the concerns, held the royal scepter aloft, and reminded the men of the silver their woman patron had paid as well as the glory they’d already found and that they were assured in the coming onslaught. The speech roused the men’s spirits and they mobilized for combat. Within a half hour they marched on the streets of Ianthe and traveled to the Gate of Avanrakash. As they arrived they met up with 50 cavalry that wore Countess Synelle’s colors and were ordered to join the company in battle. Together they rode out through the gate, Valentius’ men on the wall cheering them. They rode through the night, with scattered clouds above, and felt the spur of battle bite deep into their hearts. The old urge for combat rose. As they rode over a spur of the Tor, the fields beyond stretched into sight. Two armies waited for the clouds to clear the moon, unsure what the night’s fortunes would bring. The Crimson Wolves flashed by the outriders and saw Valentius’ and Clavanedes’ main body of troops. A thousand infantry, almost as many men-at-arms and cavalry stood ready for the order to ring doom throughout the valley.

After climbing down from the Palace Wall, Cuana made his way back to the house on the Street of Crowns. When he arrived he found the house completely empty. He set the prisoner down on a bed, donned his armor, mounted his horse and made his way to the Gate of Avanrakash. Once he arrived, Valentius’ men on the wall informed him of his companies’ earlier passage and they told him where on the field they could be found. The Cimmerians’ steed raced through the night, heedless of any dangers in his path. Cuana arrived at the crimson cloaked free company before the battle had yet been joined. He rode up to Tullweim as the Aesir received orders from one of Count Clavanedes messengers. The messenger told of a shortage of unit commanders as many had been assassinated in recent weeks and of Clavanades’ desire that Tullweim lead his troops in routing the enemy. The Crimson Wolves and Countess Synelle’s cavalry were on the right flank of Iskandrian’s army. Both sides faced each other across the field south of the Sarellian Forest. As soon as the light of the moon hit the field the battle was met.

Tullweim roared like a lion, held the royal scepter high over his head, which spurred the soldiers behind to charge. Iskandrian’s men were beset by cutthroats of renown in blazing, crimson cloaks. The Wolves’ banner inspired the soldiers around it and the two armies crashed upon each other like opposing waves in an ocean of blood and carnage. Iskandrian’s cavalry met the full force of the Crimson Wolves’ cavalry where men and horse alike fell by scores. Iskandrian’s archers harried the Crimson Wolves, opening up slight avenues for the royal cavalry to penetrate the line. Dhak distanced himself from the opposing cavalry and cast a great curse on them, causing horses to panic and swordsmen to miss. Cuana and Tullweim led their men straight into death’s maw without a care and hacked in twain all who stood against them. Xacksmith maneuvered to the edge of the forest trees for protection from the archers and then flanked the enemy, crushing them between an unrelenting swath of greatswords. The infantry of both sides then met, steel clanged on mail hauberk and bone. Death screams rang out through the night. The battle moved to it’s midpoint, with neither side having a decisive advantage, when chaos erupted.

Suddenly the ground shook beneath the combatants feet. The troops staggered drunkenly; horses stumbled and fell. Ghostly lights glowed high atop Tor Al’Kiir, and the moon shone blue. The fighting paused. Some of the troops on both sides were seized by terror, threw down their weapons, and ran away. The eerie sound of a supernatural horn-blast cleaved the silence. Slowly the battle began anew, but not with the same fervor of a moment before. Iskandrian’s men could not re-form their line with the great loss of men and courage which caused them to be bloodily routed from the field. Tullweim then took stock of the men left after the battle. Only 19 of the 50 men the company had come into Ianthe with remained and where triumph should have been on the survivors’ faces, there was only apprehension and fear. For atop the Tor flashed the witchlights, heralding menace and a great evil. The clouds gathered quickly together and a torrential rain began to pour down. Truly, the work that night was not yet finished.

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12-05-2008, 11:47 AM

To the Top

Tereus had been a noble’s military messenger through several border conflicts with Koth and had run missives between commanders of thousands, but never had he seen such conditions as that night. Count Clavanades’ messenger made his way through the fields of carnage and torrential rain. The ground still quivered from a tremor which seemed to radiate from Tor Al’Kiir. The effort to reach Tullweim, the barbarian commander of the Crimson Wolves, caused the Ophirian soldier to pant between words and raw fear masked his face at what he was told to ask. “Sir, <huff> Count Clavanades <huff> wants a report on the lights atop the Tor. <huff> Does the god of legend awake? <huff> Does doom approach?” The Aesir cast a grim look towards Tor Al’Kiir and told the messenger to tell the Count the Crimson Wolves would check it out. Tullweim then ordered Countess Synelle’s cavalry to escort the messenger and join Clavanades’ main column against General Iskandrian.

As the mercenary company made towards Tor Al’Kiir, Dhak heard a gurgling noise on the ground. Among the bodies of the dead he found one of the Ophirean soldiers pinned underneath his horse and drowning in a puddle of rain. The sorcerer grabbed the man’s hair and lifted his head out of the water. The fallen man-at-arms gasped for breath and panicked when lightning flashed and he saw the murderous intent in the Stygian’s eyes. Dhak spoke ancient words of dark aspect and pushed the soldiers’ neck into the edge of the his blade, which allowed him to harvest the man’s life for sorcerous power. The Stygian then dropped the man’s head back into the puddle which quickly grew darker as blood mixed with water.

As the Crimson Wolves approached Tor Al’Kiir, occasional ghostly lights were still seen at the top, but there were fewer of them among the crashes of lightning. The moon slipped behind racing black clouds, which plunged the company into oppressive gloom. The 23 mercenaries paused at the bottom of the Tor and knew no horses could ever make it up the steep slope. They dismounted knowing they must climb and searched for handholds among their sputtering torch light. Though the Tor was covered with ledges and bushes, the rain hindered the soldiers from making much progress. Only the Cimmerian Cuana had an easy go at it. He climbed up the 250 feet to the top and paused only to tie a 50 foot length of rope in intervals. Some close calls were had where a mercenary lost his grasp and dangled perilously for a moment but none of the Crimson Wolves fell. Finally, after much toil and effort the top of Tor Al’Kiir was reached.

The Crimson Wolves hid behind a lichen-encrusted block of stone, once the keystone in some monstrous arch. The rain came down in sheets but all else was still. Before the mercenaries laid ruins, roofless halls and decapitated columns mangled by black ivy. Among the columns were 20 black figures, manlike in form, six of which held torches around a fire that sputtered but somehow kept alight. Their hides shone metallically. Two curved horns shone from their heads, two more from their cheeks, which reminded the adventurers of Katos’ ring. Behind them gaped a dark set of stairs which led down into the earth. The sound of chanting reached up out of the dank hole, the hideous sounds of a language long dead drove obscenely into their minds. The horned figures whispered among themselves and took no heed of the Crimson Wolves.

The mercenaries planned to move about the perimeter and take the fight to their foes from 2 directions. They split into 2 groups and Dhak moved through an opening in a ruined wall. The Stygian felt the ground begin to give as he stepped and it was but for his quick reflexes that he did not stumble into a hidden pit 20 feet deep. The mercenaries moved out avoiding the concealed pits as they found them and were watched the entire time by the guards at the stairs. But the minions of Al’Kiir held their position until Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith charged. Two of the Crimson Wolves as well as Cuana fell into a pit and almost died. About half of the horned minions moved forward to engage the mercenaries. Still weakened by poison, Dhak stayed at the back of the group and cast a spell of torment on one of Al’Kiir’s minions which caused him to hit the ground wailing. Several of the Crimson Wolves attacked the helpless opponent and ended his screams. Other Wolves coordinated their attacks, sundered the minions’ shields and sent their opponents to hell with a swing of their greatswords. Cuana and one of the two mercenaries that had fallen into the pits climbed back up. The rain continued to pound the combatants as if angry, screams rent the air as men from both sides were slain or maimed, allies fell into pits, the evil sound of the impassioned worshipers chants from below all began to meld into one red roar as Cuana went into a fighting madness and slashed at anything with four horns on its head. Finally, the combat ended with the Crimson Wolves victorious. Or so they thought.

The stairs before them were hoary with age and led down into vaults long unknown and better forgotten. The chanting in the earth’s bowels had grown louder and more frantic. A faint demonic piping and rolling beat reached them, more through the soles of their feet than through their ears. There was an urgency in the vibrations, something primeval. The Crimson Wolves felt compelled to move toward the source of the dark music, drawn into blackness. Though Cuana, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith fought the urge, dark thoughts and a mad rage came over many of the mercenaries. They looked upon their sword brothers with a mask of hatred on their faces and raised their weapons.

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12-05-2008, 11:48 AM

The Depths of Tor Al’Kiir

Lighting crashed and with maddened screams twelve of the remaining 22 Crimson Wolves turned on their sword brothers in the rain. The enraged mercenaries’ lust for blood and battle could not be calmed but Tullweim knew the loss of troops at such a critical time could not be afforded. The Aesir commander called out an order to those Wolves which had kept their sanity to strike with the flats of their blades and with a leaping charge Tullweim led the attack. Cuana let go of his own battle rage and quickly smashed the hilt of his greatsword onto the temple of a nearby berserker. Dhak again spoke words of power, but this time directed at an ensorcelled ally, and replaced screams of rage with wails of agony. Xacksmith was surrounded by the swords of former allies and deftly dodged their maddened attacks. Enaro, his feral eyes aglow, tripped several of the Wolves which allowed those that remained in control of their emotions to knock their crazed brethren out. After a few tense moments only those who controlled their senses remained standing.

The feverish pitch of dark chanting and frantic piping from below urged the mercenaries on. They knew they did not have the time to properly mend the many wounds they had suffered and quickly roused those Crimson Wolves who had been knocked unconscious. The sellswords then turned to the black opening into the ground. The stairs were rough, hewn out of the granite, lit by black iron cressets in the form of a four-horned demon head. Cuana and Tullweim were in the lead while the rest of the company trailed out into the rain. Four more guards, dressed identically to those encountered above, blocked the way. The fight was swift and brutal. Dhak mystically tormented one of the guards. Cuana quieted the anguished screams of one of the minions of Al’Kiir and cleaved into another. Tullweim brought another down with two strokes of his greatsword. The last did all he could to hold the entrance to no avail as the two barbarians mercilessly carved death into their foe.

The mercenaries moved through the granite tunnel which ended with a path to the left and a path to the right. The sellswords heard the chanting and piping come to them from the left and so decided to explore the right passage first. The passage led to a glistening cave full of dust and the debris of furnishings decayed for a millenia. It was apparent that there was once a purpose to the cave, but what that purpose was had long since been forgotten. There was another passage past this room which led to a cave which had been kept clean. Several wooden benches lined the walls. Clothing (some of it quite fine) was piled on the benches. There were several chests. Dhak and Xacksmith eagerly opened the chests but all except one were empty. The last chest held a complete suit of the demonic plate worn by the minions of Al’Kiir. The room was apparently their dressing room. The plate armor was too small for either of the barbarians and would hinder the Stygian’s and Hyrkanian’s movement so it was decided that Enaro should don it. At best he would be mistaken for one of the minions, at worst he would have better protection from enemy sword strokes.

The company moved towards the path they heard the chanting come from and came to another chamber with broken furniture. The path continued on past the room, but before the company exited, Xacksmith noticed something odd with one of the walls. He approached the wall and ran his hands along it. There was an almost imperceptible difference in the granite which suggested the wall could move. After a few moments of searching, the Hyrkanian discovered a catch and part of the wall opened, revealing a small, unlit passageway. Xacksmith moved to the end of the passageway and found a similar catch which opened the wall into another chamber. The sound of the piping was louder and while Xacksmith searched for another secret passage, Cuana and Dhak made sure there was nobody coming from the path. The Hyrkanian swore in frustration at not finding anything else and moved to the rest of the company. As they were about to trek into the hallway, Tullweim noticed a granite catch in a wall and announced it’s presence. Xacksmith pulled the catch and the wall opened as before. The company traveled through another small corridor which opened up into a larger passageway. From where the company stood they all knew they had arrived at the source of the chilling music.

Cuana, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith peeked their heads around the corner and observed the scene. At the far end of a great domed cavern, a large idol stood atop a low platform. Two tall wooden posts stood in the center of room, each toppped by a black demon head. Tied between them was the Countess Synelle. A guard captain stood near her. Two other guards played flutes, while 16 more pounded the floor with their scabbards. Lady Julia danced madly in front of the great shadowed idol, and sung voicelessly, re-enacting a ritual invented before time. Torali stood nearby Julia and awkwardly held worn pages which Julia referenced occasionally. Katos’ ancient silver urn stood at her feet, filed with flames. The idol was 10 feet high and shaped like a man, had four curving horns, three lidless eyes, and a broad lipless mouth with needle-like teeth. Thick arms ended in jagged claws. One hand held a wicked dagger, the other a metal whip. This statue was the source of almost painful hum piercing the sellswords’ heads. Behind the idol was a gaping pit filed with the red glow of distant flame.

Dhak and Xacksmith attempted to sneak past a group of Al’Kiir’s minions. Despite the soft footfalls and rythmic pounding of scabbards one of the guards heard the Hyrkanian. The guard turned and underneath his four-horned helm bellowed, “Intruders! Infidels!” Spurred on by the alarm, Cuana ordered several of the Crimson Wolves to follow him into the room. They were quickly met by 10 of the minions of Al’Kiir while the rest of the armored guards continued with the ceremony. Tullweim leapt into the fray with the rest of the Nemedian sellswords. Steel rang loudly in the cave and blood spurted amid death cries of cultist and mercenary.

Xacksmith moved behind an alcove. A single minion of Al’Kiir barred the Hyrkanian’s path. The two foes were poised to engage when a high-pitched painful sound reverberated from the idol, affecting Xacksmith, many of the Crimson Wolves, and some of Al’Kiir’s minions. The minion chuckled and advanced, his broadsword hacking mercilessly. It was all the Hyrkanian could do to defend himself from the onslaught of his gruesome assailant. Enaro entered the alcove and the cultist thought him a brother come to join in the battle. Feral eyes flashed beneath the horned helm when Enaro tripped the minion and struck as Dhak and a small group of Crimson Wolves closed in.

As mercenaries sundered shields, Cuana slashed and cleaved into the minions. Tullweim took the opportunity given by the ringing noise to push past the melee and rush to Countess Synelle. He was met by the cultists’ captain who taunted the Aesir, “You hulking fool. You thought too protect her, yet I brought her here. See if you can save your lady fair now!” The captain attacked with deadly skill but the Aesir’s armor prevented most of the force. Tullweim responded with brutal swings the cultist captain strained to parry. Dhak fired a poisoned arrow from his Stygian bow and struck a glancing blow to Julia. She managed to complete the last words of her ritual despite the poison weakening her.

The Avatar Awakes

All at once the ringing sound from the statue ceased. The idol began to move. A mad laugh echoed throughout the cavern chamber. Many of the warriors both Crimson Wolves and minions of Al’Kiir fell to the floor in abject terror. The avatar turned and seized Lady Julia. She screamed in panic and told the avatar that is was Synelle he wanted. The avatar then tossed Julia aside and seized the Countess, breaking her bonds. Tullweim moved past the guard captain, taking a swing from his foe as he rushed to Synelle’s aid. Dhak rushed towards the distracted captain and attempted to throw a pouch of tomb dust but the minion’s leader had the reflexes of a cat. He knocked the pouch out of the still poisoned Stygian’s hand and smirked, “Pathetic fool. You think to catch me unaware?” The guard captain slashed at Dhak but the Stygian reacted with a word and gesture that turned the blade away from his throat. Enraged, the captain swung again and his blade bit deep into Dhak’s unarmored side.

Near the entrance of the chamber the cultists mercilessly executed the helpless Wolves as Cuana dealt death in kind and cleaved into another. Across the way Enaro, and the Nemedian sellswords with him rushed to aid Dhak. They were met by the group of minions who were closer to the avatar. Enaro tripped a minion, immediately hit with his mace and 2 Crimson Wolves swung their greatswords into their prone enemy. Tullweim dropped his sword, drew the royal scepter of Ophir, and allowed his fury to rise as he charged the avatar with a powerful leap. The demon roared as the scepter twice cracked Al’Kiir’s hide and caused a foul ichor to spurt. At the avatar’s agony Xacksmith, the prone Crimson Wolves and minions shook their terror off. The Hyrkanian saw the battle and rapidly fired twice from his bow at the guard captain. The first shot bounced harmlessly off the captain’s breastplate, the other struck a glancing blow to his leg. The idol’s three eyes filled with hate and the avatar struck twice with its large black dagger at Tullweim. It then bit into the Aesir and rent the armor off his shoulder. Torali screamed and raced towards the chamber entrance. Dhak stepped away from the guard captain and with a steely gaze he uttered words of power, pushing himself beyond his limits. The guard captain fell to his knees screaming as if his flesh were being flayed from his body. One of the Crimson Wolves saw this and stepped to the captain delivering a coup de grace which separated head from shoulders. The four-horned helm rolled to Dhak’s feet but the mangled visor no longer hid the face of Lord Taramenon.

Cuana moved back into the chamber entrance and called the lone Nemedian sellsword to his side. Xacksmith dropped his bow, ran to a foe and feinted with his arming sword. Enaro tripped another enemy and the 2 Crimson Wolves at his side struck twice again. The poisoned, weakened sorcerer Dhak fixed his eye upon the cultist priestess and engaged her in a war of souls. Unfortunately Julia’s will was stronger and the Stygian felt the loss of acumen he had caused to so many others to fuel his sorcerous power. Tullweim reeled from the avatar’s powerful attack but still in a fighting madness he delivered two more furious attacks which sent another roar of pain and rage to echo throughout the chamber.

Al’Kiir sluggishly grappled the Aesir, wrapping him in tree-trunk sized metal arms and bit down again into the barbarian’s shoulder. Three minions near the chamber entrance advanced in formation on Cuana and struck with all their hate. The Cimmerian managed to parry several of the blows and swung his greatsword in response, splitting a cultists’ head like a ripe melon. He slashed again into the next closest minion but the cultists armor absorbed most of the blow. The cultist priestess chuckled at Dhak and exerted her will, again draining wisdom from the Stygian. Barely standing, Dhak kept Lady Julia engaged in the war of souls long enough for a mercenary to flank the priestess and send his greatsword through her gut. The sorceress sputtered her surprise in her last moment of life as she stared in disbelief at the blade which jutted from her belly, coated crimson by her blood. Xacksmith followed through with his feint and finessed past a minion’s armor. The Hyrkanian’s blade found purchase in the soft flesh of his foes neck. Enaro continued his brutal exchange with cultists that felled sellsword while Dhak attempted to feint an opponent. It was all Tullweim could do to keep the vice-like arm of the avatar from crushing him. But the Aesir managed to free an arm and sent the staff of Avanrakash straight down the maw of the four-horned horror.

A final throe of agony shook the avatar of Al’Kiir. With a scream of rage it dropped Countess Synelle and Tullweim. The scream pierced everyone in the chambers thoughts and drove all else from their minds. Dark ichor flowed from the gaping wound in the avatar’s neck where the point of the staff stuck out. The avatar clawed the air once more in agony when it finally fell. The body of Al’Kiir slowly hardened out from the wound, until it was frozen in place, statue-like once again. A mental scream from the avatar went on and on, vibrating in the deepest recesses of everyone’s mind. Suddenly they realized the ground was shaking from the fury of that scream. The fiery pit glowed white-hot. Huge stones began to fall from the cavern roof above. The earth lurched under foot.

Cuana reached out for Torali as Tullweim took up the Countess, protected her from falling debris and raced out of the crumbling chamber. Dhak called for aid as the sorcerer could barely stand and Xacksmith rushed him out with Enaro on their heels. The earth opened up and swallowed those who were transfixed by Al’Kiir’s mental scream including one of the two surviving Crimson Wolves. The passageway outside the chamber crumbled as well and all were struck by rubble. As they reached the surface the ancient columns and walls toppled about and crushed the remaining Nemedian Adventurer. A huge explosion hurtled man-sized chunks of granite into the sky. Tor Al’Kiir crumbled beneath their feet as they reached the edge and attempted to climb down. When they reached the bottom of the slope, the entire hilltop exploded. The shockwave knocked all to the ground, and a huge flame leapt 500 feet into the night sky. Several rocks hit those still conscious on the head, and all were taken by the dark.

After some time, the 5 mercenaries woke, still exhausted from the night’s trials. A red dawn crept out of the eastern sky. No one had yet dared venture abroad from the city and the sellswords were alone except for the 2 women at their side. They glanced up at the smoldering remains of Tor Al’Kiir. The top third of the hill had been vaporized. Nothing was left of its ruins but the huge boulders which dotted the field where the heroes of Ophir laid. Dhak tended to the Hyrkanian and stole Xacksmith from death’s grasp. Cuana and Tullweim first made sure Synelle and Torali were ok then the Cimmerian bandaged the Aesir’s wounds. After fifteen minutes the party took a deep breath and made their way to Ianthe’s gate.

The Heroes of Ophir

Count Clavanedes had the leaders of the King’s army imprisoned including Iskandrian, the White Eagle of Ophir. Countess Synelle expressed her concern that Valentius had not been present at the battle and feared he had indeed been taken by Iskandrian. Cuana remembered the man he’d rescued from the King’s dungeon and presented the wretch to Synelle. She was stunned that this was indeed the noble next in line as the ruler of Ianthe and the throne of Ophir. Dhak inspected the man and noted there was no mark on Valentius to account for his condition. The Stygian looked beneath the Count’s collar and found some kind of necklace which had had mystically robbed the Count of his senses. When the Stygian removed it the Count’s eyes immediately focused on his surroundings and he demanded to know what was going on. Cuana related his tale of rescuing Valentius from the dungeons and the events of the past night. With a look of gratitude on his face the Count thanked Cuana for his rescue.

Later that same day Valentius was presented to the people of Ianthe as the successor to the crown. A great ceremony was held to much applause as Countess Synelle was offered the queenship and honors were bestowed upon the mercenaries who had risked their lives for the country. Cuana, Dhak, Enaro, Tullweim, and Xacksmith were all made knights of the realm. The Cimmerian was given an exquisite Akbitanan greatsword by the king. Tullweim was presented with a fierce great helm decorated in the visage of a wolf by Queen Synelle. All five mercenaries were given 1,000 silver coins and a gem-encrusted Akbitanan broadsword or arming sword and the finest wool cloaks dyed with the deepest crimson. The Ophireans, both noble and common, cheered, gifted, and feted the sellswords as heroes for weeks. The feasts were elaborate affairs, the wine and ale were endless, and the women exceptionally appreciative of the heroes’ accomplishments. Little was said of the plot to summon Al’Kiir as nobody who knew of the events wanted the dark past to color the countries new era.

flatscan

12-19-2008, 08:27 PM

On the Road of Kings

The Stygian traveled through an unknown forest. The air was stifling and the trees seemed to close in around him so tightly he could not see the night sky as he made his way through a tangled path. The short hairs at the base of his neck prickled as he felt something watched him from the dark past the trees. He quickened his pace, but the sound of something unseen breathed in the shadows and matched his step. The Stygian began to run, heedless of the thick undergrowth and tripped, falling hard to the ground. He looked up finding his way blocked by a barricade of piled skulls and bones. The slavering beast that hounded the Stygian leapt and wrestled him to the ground as teeth and claw tore through his flesh. The Stygian felt his life, nay his very soul was at stake and he struggled with an increased effort…to no avail. And then, when the very jaws of death were at his throat the sky brightened and the stars finally pierced the veil of oppressive night. One star shone brighter than the rest and the Stygian was bathed in a white light that banished the creature with a shriek. From that light floated a familiar figure. Yag-Kosha, in all his winged majesty, spoke into the Stygian’s head, “Dhakometri. This night Yag will be prominent in the heavens. Usher me forth with the stars’ light at the darkest hour. We must speak. This night. At the darkest hour. We must speak.” The white light grew brighter, blotting the figure of Yag-kosha from Dhak’s eyes and forced him to shut them in rapture. When he opened his eyes again he saw the sun overhead. His companions were already up and breaking camp as Dhak was tangled in his bedroll.

The spring sun had clearly shone Cuana’s, Dhak’s, Tullweim’s, and Xacksmith’s path to Tarantia along the Road of Kings. In the recent weeks of travel they had passed caravans of oxen-pulled wagons, merchants with full complements of armed guards protecting their goods, and fellow travelers moving to the capital city from outlying farms. The great plains of Aquilonia were sporadically broken up by wooded copses of trees and they had covered much ground the last few days of travel. The adventurers needed only travel a day and a half’s ride to the most regal city of the west. This morning their camp was all but broken and their horses were eager to stride. Tullweim tumbled Dhak out of his bedroll and urged him to get ready as the party was moving out. The Stygian grumbled under his breath but quickly gathered his belongings and saddled his horse.

Just as the adventurers started on the road they were hailed by a portly man with sandy blonde hair, a moustache, and wearing the robes of a Mitran priest. The man spurred his horse, an animal that looked as if it had been ridden hard in past days and was well beyond its prime, and galloped clumsily towards the party.

“Hail, my friends, <huff>, it’s good to see familiar faces abroad. <huff>”

Recognition dawned on Tullweim’s face as he remembered the Mitran priest as Daphnis, the very priest who informed the Aesir of the danger of Teotlamatl in Numalia and gave him the means to defeat the black fiend almost a year past. Daphnis greeted the two barbarian like comrades and inquired about their allies. His pleasantries stopped fast when he saw Dhak, however, and he asked who the Stygian was. Dhak cooly introduced himself and gazed into Daphnis eyes finding the priest wielded some sorcerous knowledge as well as a small amount of corruption. After introductions were made the Mitran priest asked if he could travel the rest of the journey to Tarantia in the adventurers’ company. The priest was eager to hear any tales of the adventurers recent exploits and was heartened when told of the defeat of Al’Kiir, though he warned that such evils never truly died. Daphnis informed the party that he too was doing his part in snuffing out the evils of the world. In fact, he was headed to Tarantia to discuss what the Mitran church planned to do about the troubling amount of demon trafficking occurring in these times. Daphnis was pleasant company, exchanged humorous tales on the road but kept a wary eye on Dhak and often spoke of ancient horrors being summoned by clueless nobles or darksome worshipping fools.

As night approached the party stopped at a large copse of trees by the side of the road. Daphnis, Dhak, and Xacksmith began setting up camp as Cuana and Tullweim went into the trees in search of water and game. After about an hour of searching Cuana returned to the camp empty handed but Tulleim had managed to kill an antelope. The Aesir dressed his catch and a fire was struck as the days light faded. Daphnis told the party he had little coin to pay for the food but did have a fine vintage of Nemedian wine which he had planned to save for the priests in the Mitraeum. With a chuckle he said the wine would be better used with friends beneath the stars then at a stuffy banquet table amid dry conversation. The jug was passed to Tullweim, then Xacksmith, then Cuana. The Cimmerian passed the jug to Dhak but the Stygian waved it away. Much laughter was had between the drink and bawdy tales the companions exchanged. When finally the fire had left the revelry, Dhak volunteered to take the first watch of the night.

About an hour after his companions laid their heads to the ground Dhak stole away from the camp. He did not travel far before finding a small clearing in the trees where the Stygian could observe the heavens. The Stygian stared intently through the Elephant’s Heart at the distant world of Yag. The light of the star filled the gem and soon Dhak felt himself to be in a different place. An empty void surrounded him with a low fog on the ground. Before the sorcerer floated Yag-Kosha among the dim light provided by his home planet. The yaggite raised his hand in a gesture of greeting and spoke.

“O man of the south, the time is right in this part of the world. The light of Yag will be shining down from the heavens for a short time. In this time you shall be able to use the powers of my Heart with greater ease.”

“Hrrrmm. Seeing the cast of Yag’s light I sense a force rising in the west. Furious is its power. Malice its intent. Many will suffer if this force gains prominence, though I see not the source… Ohhh.” Yag-Kosha seems to look through the void around Dhak and stated, “We are not alone.” The vision began to fade from the Stygian’s mind and he could hear the Yaggite’s voice trail into oblivion, “Something bars…” As Dhak felt the loss of the connection to the yaggite dissipate he heard another voice call loudly from behind.

“Awake my friends! Awake from your slumber! There is a snake in your camp! A serpent trafficking with devils who will bring doom down on all of our heads! By Mitra’s holy light awake my friends and witness this evil!”

Dhak turned with a hiss, grabbed his sword, and swore as he saw Daphnis yelling among the trees with his axe in hand. The Stygian could tell the Mitran priest had a counterspell prepared and engaged Daphnis in a war of souls. The priest’s will was strong, however, and Daphnis easily repelled the Stygian’s attempt. Meanwhile, Tullweim was the only to be roused by the priest’s cries of alarm. The Aesir grumbled as he grabbed his greatsword and stood up. He noticed Cuana and Xacksmith were still caught among the web of slumber and kicked both of his companions before rushing into the trees. Seeing the Aesir’s actions the Cimmerian and Hyrkanian were as quick on his heels as their drink addled minds would allow them. When they arrived they found Daphnis and Dhak squaring off. The priest again accused Dhak of devil-worship and the Stygian replied with an insult. Tullweim saw the Elephant’s Heart in Dhak’s hand and knew the red gem was used to communicate with Yag-Kosha. The Aesir attempted to explain that there was no harm in the ritual Dhak was performing but the shocked priest would not relent his insistence of witnessing Dhak perform foul magic. Still a bit drunk from the wine and upset at having been awoken, Xacksmith bull rushed the priest. Daphnis responded by hitting the drunken Hyrkanian in the head with the handle of his axe. Tullweim quickly broke up the fight, pulling Xacksmith off the Mitran priest. The disgusted Hyrkanian shook his head and turned to return to his bedroll. Daphnis did not relent on his accusations as Cuana and Tullweim shook their heads when the night erupted into violence.

Bursting from the trees came a small pack of howling, gray-skinned creatures. Their strides quickened as they broke into the clearing, murderous intent in their eyes and fanged mouths slavering. A ghoul attacked Cuana, Dhak, and Tullweim while Daphnis was flanked by a pair of the ravenous beasts. Back at the camp, Xacksmith had just reached his bedroll when a ghoul rushed at him and bloodied the Hyrkanian’s chest. Another ghoul clawed at Dhak’s horse. Daphnis deftly struck two blows at one of the creatures but his axe blade barely scratched the beast. Cuana and Tullweim had better success carving their Akbitanan greatswords into the ghouls’ hides. Dhak struck once with his arming sword before the ghoul wounded him with ragged claws and teeth. Tullweim was likewise hit and the creatures’ relentless jaws bit deep into both the Aesir and Stygian. The Cimmerian suffered only a raking claw and saw that two of his companions grappled in vain against their attackers. Unbeknown to the others, Xacksmith and Dhak’s horse was also caught between a ghoul’s maw. The clearing was a chaos of blades, blood, and ichor as teeth rent and steel slashed, creatures howled and men cursed.

Cuana savagely struck twice, killing one of the ghouls, and cleaved into another which had attacked Daphnis. Tullweim allowed his fury to rise, but despite his great strength could not shake the creature off. Daphnis again struck twice at a beast and again barely penetrated the ghoul’s thick hide. Dhak and Xacksmith remained helpless by the creatures, the Stygian remembering his dream with no small amount of irony. Dhak’s horse was slaughtered mercilessly and Xacksmith’s steed was quickly beset upon. Cuana struck again and felled another ghoul as Tullweim managed to remove tooth from flesh and break the hold the ghoul had upon him. The Aesir’s freedom was momentary as the ghoul again clawed and latched onto the barbarian. The Cimmerian knew that his companions were all in trouble but the sounds of horses being slaughtered caught his attention and he ran back to the camp to find Xacksmith laying still in a pool of his own blood and two of their horses dead, great chunks of flesh torn away from their sides. Daphnis still held his own against the beast he fought with but had taken several grievous wounds. Tullweim again broke free of the ghoul and focused all his rage into a powerful attack on his foe, slaying the beast. Cuana slashed with a powerful attack at the ghoul which felled Xacksmith. Daphnis struck at the ghoul before him and his axe blade sunk deep. Tullweim then turned his attention to Dhak and separated his attacker’s head from its shoulders. The Aesir and Stygian left the Mitran priest alone to fend for himself as they rushed to attack the ghoul which was killing their horses.

With their focused effort on the last two ghouls the battle ended as quickly as it had begun. The whole campsite was splattered with bits of gray flesh, gore, and repulsive-smelling ichor. A deeply wounded Daphnis returned to the camp and admonished the adventurers as he saw to their Hyrkanian companion, claiming the ghouls attack as proof that only harm could come from the Stygian’s communion. As the others mended their own wounds they again defended Dhak. The sorceror himself was livid with rage and demanded the Mitran priest leave their camp or have his gut opened. Daphnis looked to Cuana and Tullweim and saw no objection to Dhak’s threat. The priest gathered his things, mounted his horse and left saying, “My friends, I fear you have been ensorcelled by this serpent. I will be party to it no longer. Mitra have mercy on your souls.” The adventurers roused Xacksmith and gathered their things silently. They broke camp and traveled 100 yards away, Tullweim allowing the Hyrkanian to ride his horse. They spent the next day resting as they could, finishing the meager rations and water they had left before setting on the road again.

The Jewel of the West

At the center of a vast plain dotted with woods and divided into small estates, laid the capital city of Aquilonia, Tarantia. Above the hill the city sat upon the travelers saw the many blue and golden towers of the metropolis rising into the sky and the majesty of the city stole their breath. They passed rich agricultural land, many small villages, the corpses of traitors left to rot, and the bridge of Vilerus the First before reaching the cities’ massive gate in the early evening. There they were admitted through the gate. Tullweim inquired about an inn and one of the guards recommended an inn nearby called the Stag and Whistle. The party quickly found the Stag and Whistle, a simple and functional inn in the South Gate Ward of the city which would not cost much coin from their dwindling purse and would provide the creature comforts necessary after a long journey.

At the inn Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith secured rooms, food, and ale. Dhak had a more difficult time. The innkeeper ignored the Stygian, never looking up from the tankard he washed. The Stygian narrowed his eyes and as the innkeeper set the glass down Dhak cast a simple spell of prestidigitation. The sorcerer then pointed out that the glass was still dirty. The annoyed innkeeper inspected the tankard and it looked as if he had not even touched it with his wash towel. The Stygian then leaned in threateningly close to the innkeeper and dropped several silver coins. He was given a meal, ale, and a room with no further problems.

After bellies were filled, thirst quenched, and accommodations arranged, the adventurers set out to purchase some equipment. Tullweim went to a blacksmith and purchased 2 daggers for Dhak as well as explained the specifics of a Nordheimer weapon he wished to be crafted. Once various goods were purchased the party planned to carouse the night away. They had little coin left and decided to relieve a merchant of his purse. Xacksmith looked around the darkened streets and spied a fat bald man wearing exquisite silver jewelry leaving his shop with 2 bodyguards close by. Dhak and Xacksmith approached the merchant while Cuana and Tullweim approached the bodyguards. The barbarians were given a wary eye and ordered to stand back as the bodyguards reached for their weapons. Dhak engaged the merchant and inquired about the wares the merchant sold. Xacksmith used the opportunity to look as if he were casually walking down the street and with some sleight-of-hand the Hyrkanian relieved the merchant of his purse. Cuana and Tullweim backed away with false apologies that they were only interested in asking where they could find as fine weapons as the bodyguards held. The commotion behind caused the merchant to look around nervously and excuse himself. He invited the Stygian to examine his wares the next day and called his bodyguards to hurry.

Once the party regrouped Xacksmith informed his companions of the the fruit of their haul. They now had plenty of silver to spend on the Avenue of Roses and could afford the company of 2 women each and a bit more drink, if not much else. The group wandered the streets with brothels on all sides and their ears rang with the inviting calls of beautiful blonde Brythunians and eager dark-haired Zamorians known for being skilled in their trade. The adventurers reveled with the taste of ale on their lips and the touch of women at their sides for hours before running out of coin. As they could no longer pay for the pleasure the party was shown the door.

Blasphemy in Delvyn

Torches flared murkily on Tarantia’s streets as the party made their way through the benighted city. Midnight approached and a chill crept through the grimy cobbles, a world apart from the reputed glory and tiled plazas of the Citadel. Ahead of the adventurers, a man stumbled, caressing a nearby wall for support; at first glance, he seemed to be just another drunkard, staggering home after a long night in the taverns. As he fumbled closer, however, they noted that this was no average drunkard. The figure was clad in the black robes of a Mitran priest, and something about his clumsy gait suggested more than mere alcohol had induced it. The faltering priest managed a few more steps before falling to his knees on the filthy cobblestones, a feathered arrow shaft jutting from his back, his hand extended toward the party in a sign of desperation. They recognized the priest as Daphnis, the very man they had traveled with but a day past.

His lips moved as the adventurers approached, a trail of bloody spittle leaking from the corner of his mustached mouth. ‘Treason,’ he gasped in a reedy, failing voice. ‘Heresy … all lies … stop Brotherhood … midnight … cemetery … Delvyn…’ these last few words seemed to tax the last of the dying man’s strength, and his final breath rattled from his lungs. Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith looked to one another, the Aesir obviously upset at the death of a former ally. The questions hung in the air as to who would kill a priest of Mitra and where exactly was the Delvyn cemetery. Dhak told his companions to be silent and they would have their answers. The Stygian knelt beside the body of the dead priest, voiced arcane words and gestured ominously with his hands. To his companions surprise Daphnis’ eyes bolted open and the priest gasped. He looked up at the Stygian’s face and screamed in horror as he realized what the sorcerer had done. Dhak smiled in return and assured the priest he would be returned to death’s embrace after he answered some questions. Daphnis cursed the Stygian and implored him to hurry to the Delvyn cemetery and stop the sacrifice. Dhak asked the corpse of the Mitran priest where they could find the cemetery and Daphnis told him to go to the northeast corner of the city as quickly as possible. The Stygian nodded in understanding and ended the fragile string or sorcery that kept the priest on this plane of existence.

Navigating Delvyn’s cramped alleyways, ramshackle buildings, mouldy tenements, tiny shops and stinking taverns was a difficult task for anyone not born to its narrow, winding streets and dead-end alleys, making the small ward seem much bigger than it was, particularly now as the adventurers hurried through the dark night towards Tarantia’s largest public cemetery. The Delvyn cemetery was a burial ground for the poor, a mostly untended and unkempt field littered with tiny markers, the majority of which had long since been weathered into anonymity. Corpses of those wealthy enough interred individually here, lacking access to family mausoleums, are buried standing up, to make the most use of the available room. Most of those buried here, however, are not even accorded the honour of a private grave, but were cast into deep mass graves, their bodies dusted with lye.

Xacksmith heard the voices of men restraining a woman deep in the cemetery. The party rushed as quick as the cramped tombstones allowed, and arrived at an opening of a particularly wealthy plot. In the light of an overturned lantern struggled a young woman held by two men wearing the robes of the cult of Asura. The woman was against a slab with a disinterred corpse atop it. Two more men identically dressed watched while a fifth man raised a dagger above the woman. With a rapid strike Xacksmrith fired twice before the dagger could fall, each arrow driving deep into a separate socket of the priests’ shaved skull. Cuana and Tullweim rushed forward letting out cries of fury as their greatswords fell upon the two closest men. Dhak’s words of charnel power caused the felled cultist to stir, his cheeks daubed with tears of blood. The woman screamed in terror as one of the men released her and ran as did the cultist who the Cimmerian engaged. Cuana took the opportunity provided by the stark fear in his opponent to split the man’s left shoulder from his body. The cultist Tullweim attacked lunged past the Aesir and attacked the Stygian. Xacksmith sunk 2 arrows into Dhak’s assailant while Cuana landed a powerful attack on the cultist who still held the terrified woman. Tullweim raced after the fleeing cultist and drove his greatsword straight through the screaming man’s gut. Dhak stepped back from his attacker and fired 3 shots into him with his Stygian bow. The woman’s screams in the gruesome scene echoed throughout the cemetery into the dark night.

flatscan

01-06-2009, 10:55 AM

Hard Questions for Hard Men

The girl’s scream pierced the dark night as she ran amid the tombstones and dead cultists. All those who had taken Alida had fallen in bloody combat. But the lead cultist yet stood despite the arrows jutting from his eye sockets. The girl ran as quick as she could but the tightly packed tombstones slowed her panicked egress. Mighty arms wrapped around her and she kicked and screamed in terror. Alida could barely understand what the man who held her said but he turned her around to face the scene and all who had perished remained still on the ground. Tullweim comforted the attractive young girl while Xacksmith looted the corpses and discovered a small fortune of silver among the 5 cultists. Dhak found a scrap of paper on the head cultist with strange symbols scrawled on it which the sorcerer could not identify. The Stygian contemplated a moment and then asked Cuana to separate the head from the cultist’s body so Dhak could get answers by necromancy in a secure location. The Cimmerian lifted his sword and was poised to deliver the blow when he was stopped by a call to halt.

Up on a nearby hill stood soldiers in the livery of the city watch. The guards came upon the scene and demanded an explanation. Dhak was able to diplomatically pacify the soldiers with the aid of Alida’s tale. She informed the watchmen that she had no idea she was taken or what was to happen to her. She was nabbed from the street by the five men in Asuran robes, bound, gagged, and brought directly to the Delvyn cemetery. The guards decided not to arrest the adventurers but insisted the party accompany them to the guardhouse for further questioning. Once there the party was asked to explain the entirety of the events which occurred that night. Dhak tried to keep any word of the Mitran priest Daphnis from mention, going so far as offering the coin taken from the cultists person. Eventually after telling the tale time and again one of the other sellswords voiced the slain priest’s name. The guards regarded the murder of a Mitran priest as a horrific crime and the tale continued up the chain of command. More and more senior officers heard the story and nearly two hours after being brought in for questioning a man clad in the balckened armor of the Black Dragons, the King’s personal guards, arrived at the guard station. The seasoned soldier informed the party they were released from custody but were ordered to appear at the Chancellory at first light. The adventurers acknowledged the order and returned to their accommodations at the Stag and Whistle for a few hours of much-needed rest.

The Chancellory

As dawn broke over the golden city of Tarantia, a rapping at Cuana’s chamber door woke the Cimmerian. A young pageboy, dressed in the livery of the king, introduced himself as Arn and told Cuana that he had been sent by the Chancellor to accompany the band to the Chancellory. Cuana roused the others who filed down the stairs, following the pageboy.

In the morning light the adventurers approached the Chancellory, which was strictly speaking a mansion, but seemed to be designed to withstand a siege. Parapets and crenulations lined the rooftop, and four of Aquilonia’s Black Dragons, stood to attention before the building’s ironbound door. Clad in their trademark blackened armour and horned great helms, they rapped the butts of their spears on the flagstones three times in unison as the party approached, signalling them to halt.

‘The king’s chancellor is expecting us,’ announced Arn, stepping forward. ‘I am to escort these guests to him.’

The quartet of menacing warriors eyed the young man a moment longer before stepping to one side and beckoning the band forward. The Black Dragons relieved the sellswords of their weapons before they followed the pageboy into the Chancellory. Arn led them down a long, columned hall lit by narrow windows high above and through a heavy wooden door at the passageway’s end. The party passed through two large reception rooms before their young guide stopped in front of a well-worn door, flanked on either side by another pair of Black Dragon guards, every bit as regal as those at the front gate. The young pageboy opened the door and gestured for the party to enter.

The room beyond the guarded door was small, its ornate mosaic floor all but hidden beneath a large collection of rugs. One wall hosted a large bookshelf, while the opposite wall contained a wide hearth, on which a low fire smouldered. The room was lit by three tall windows in the wall opposite the door they came through, as well as a brass chandelier laden with candles which hung from the ceiling. Between the bookshelf and the hearth was a long wooden table, eight chairs set about it.

The pageboy bowed briefly and left, closing the door behind him. A moment later, another door, almost hidden by the bookcase, opened and an elderly man in fine clothing walked into the room. A gauntleted hand reached in from behind him and pulled the door closed again.

‘Please take a seat,’ the man said, gesturing to the table.

‘I am Publius, Chancellor of Aquilonia, and I would like to speak to you about last night.’

The party recited their version of what happened once more, often interrupted as Publius asked for more details on a specific incident. The Chancellor dwelt primarily on the words of the dying priest and the particulars of what happened at the Delvyn cemetery. Publius was a patient and careful listener, but was also extremely insightful and very nearly impossible to fool, evidenced by causing Tullweim to slip when calling Dhak by his true name instead of the alias the Stygian had concocted at the guardhouse. The Chancellor was particularly interested in the opinions and insights the adventurers had into the events of the past night. He asked what they thought of the events of the previous evening meant, whether they had any reason to believe Daphnis sought them out after being shot, or if they were simply the first people he stumbled upon and whether they had any knowledge as to the meaning or origin of the symbols found on the Asuran priests. Only after weighing the parties answers did Publius divulge the truths he knew, that the symbols seemed to be markings sacred to the cult of Asura, but there was no indication they had ever been used in such a manner before, certainly not in Tarantia.

‘Very well,’ Publius said once all his questions had been answered. ‘I thank you for your assistance thus far, and would like to impose upon you further, if I may. This is a troublesome business indeed, one that I sense is more complex than it may seem. Where religion is concerned, passions run high – already rumours of last night’s activities in Delvyn are beginning to circulate through other parts of the city, and I fear the rumours will soon become accusations, breeding violence. I must know exactly what is happening, but I sense I would be best served by not making the king’s interest in this matter public, and that precludes my use of more traditional channels of investigation, therefore, I turn to you. I wish you to investigate this incident, discover if there is indeed a deeper truth, and, if possible, resolve this situation before it festers too long. You will, of course, be compensated.’

Cuana asked to be provided with some kind of writ, establishing in writing their authority to investigate this matter, but Publius would not provide it. After all, a large part of his reason for using outsiders to resolve this problem was to keep the government out of it. He offered the adventurers a reward of 1,000 silver pieces if they were able to unravel this mystery to his satisfaction, and was even willing to pay half of it in advance. Dhak then spoke, demanding absolute truth from Publius throughout the investigation. The wise chancellor turned to the Stygian and spoke with a wry smirk on his face, “Of course…Dhak was it? I will deal honestly with you if thou deals true with me.”

After the party agreed to help, Publius identified the arrow that killed Daphnis as one fired by a man named Essenic, an infamous sellsword of Tarantia who could often be found on the Avenue of Roses. With that lead the band was dismissed, recovered their weapons at the door and journeyed once again to the district of brothels, wine, and whores.

Hunting the Hunter

As the party made their way through the streets of the city that day, they heard rumours of what happened the night before – the unholy murder of a Mitran priest and the terrible rites conducted in the public cemetery – were the talk of the town. Most citizens of Tarantia were only then hearing of it, but still, the alternating tones of shock and anger the adventurers heard as they journeyed through the city proved the chancellor right. Finally the band arrived at the Avenue of Roses, a three-acre section of the city which held all but four of Tarantia’s 53 brothels. The party would not call themselves strangers to the interconnected buildings here, at least three stories high, which created a maze of narrow, winding paths. The streets and byways of this region of the city snaked their way between buildings, each filled with those hawking themselves and their wares to passers-by. After an hour of spreading handfills of silver asking eunuch and whore alike about Essenic the adventurers heard that Daphnis’ murderer had gone into the House of Nine Jewels late last night and had not yet left.

Cuana, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith arrived at the House of Nine Jewels and made themselves comfortable. They seated themselves at the bar and asked the whore attending them of Essenic. She gestured to a blonde Brythunian and said the sellsword was Yarina’s client. Tullweim took the initiative to speak with Yarina while Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith stayed at the bar ordering exotic beverages from the women around them. The Aesir inquired of Yarina about Essenic. The whore smiled and informed Tullweim that she charged for talk-jobs. The barbarian returned the smile and said if he must pay he would require her other services as well and placed 10 silver coins into her palm. The Brythunian led Tullweim to a room upstairs to see to business. Though the Aesir enjoyed the interview greatly there was little Yarina could tell him other than Essenic had not stayed the entire night and did not pay her for conversation. The whore then intimated that Essenic was a tall, broad-shouldered man with an unkempt mane of tawny hair, willing to sell his services to anyone with the coin to pay him, and did not care what he was ordered to do. With the business concluded Tullweim returned to his companions and shared the information he had been given. Not wishing to spend the day asking questions of a populace known for despising Stygians, Dhak split from the party to return to the Delvyn cemetery, where he hoped to find the corpse of the Asuran priest to question.

Fortunately for the adventurers, Essenic was not an entirely unknown person in Tarantia. Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith spent several hours and many coins hunting him down. Unfortunately for them the shocked tones of the previous nights events were now gone, replaced by dark threats of violence against the foreign religions and the adventurers had to be cautious with whom they asked information of. The Cimmerian heard a tale of Essenic once killing a man by picking him up by his ankles and flinging him headfirst into a stone wall. Cuana also heard a rumor that the Asurans and their foul sorceries had caused King Conan and Lord Trocero to flee the city. Tullweim learned the sellsword was originally from Shamar but had come to Tarantia a decade prior. The Aesir was then told of children’s bodies, murdered and marked with arcane symbols found inside a locked warehouse in the South Gate Ward of the city in the morning. Xacksmith was informed of Essenic’s wife, Lyness, who worked in the Khorotas Ward outside the city as a laundress. The man who told the Hyrkanian this warned that a number of trade barges plying the Khorotas River between Tarantia and Messantia had vanished recently. Each time, an Asuran funeral boat was spotted heading downriver within hours of the barge’s departure from the docks. With the costly information gained, Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith traveled out the South Gate to the Khorotas Ward.

Meanwhile, Dhak had traveled across the city and was up to his elbows digging through the many corpses in a mass grave. The Stygian was aghast at the unceremonious manner the Aquilonians disposed of their dead and even moreso aghast at the stench the open grave held. But the sorcerer pressed on with his gruesome task and at length came across the body of one of the men killed in the cemetery. It was not the priest he’d hoped to find but would suffice. Dhak wove a spell of necromancy and the dead man’s eyes opened in shock. The Stygian put forth his questions, threatening an eternity of decomposing underneath the piles of the dead in complete awareness if the cultist did not answer truthfully. The dead man frightfully answered Dhak’s question without hesitation. The Stygian was able to learn the man’s name was Hegerd and that he was recruited in a tavern called the Weary Road in the North Gate Ward 6 days prior by a man he was certain was an Asuran priest. The Asuran priest did not give a name, but offered the mercenaries 1,000 silver coins to kidnap a random girl, take her to the cemetery and draw certain sigils in blood. The mercenaries had to copy the sigils down as the Asuran would not allow them to take the parchment the priest had brought with him. Hegerd also told the Stygian that he and the others had to acquire the robes they were wearing themselves. Satisfied with the corpses answers Dhak stopped the spell and traveled back to the Stag and Whistle inn.

On the banks of the Khorotas

The Khorotas Ward of Tarantia laid outside the city proper, spread out along the banks of the river from which it took its name. It was home to much of the city’s industry – at least those industries that produced the tremendously unpleasant stench that filled the air there. Docks and jetties projected out into the river from both banks and trade barges came and went at all hours, being loaded and unloaded in a near-constant flurry of activity before leaving to ply their wares up and down the Khorotas River. Many of the barges were marked with the crests of the Messantian merchant houses, whose wealth seemed boundless, and those relatively grand vessels seemed distinctly out of place in this stinking, crowded place, full of warehouses, tenements, unfriendly taverns and the grinding industry.

It did not take long for Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith to find the tiny room on the second floor of a small clapboard tenement where Lyness plied her trade. Great pails of water filled the room as well as piles of soiled clothes. Tullweim stood in the doorway and rapped once on the door. The woman inside was not unattractive but had the weary look of one who labored long hours. She barely looked up at the Aesir, commented on his tattered clothes and explained she charged per garment. Tullweim looked down at his clothes and realized the months of travel and combat had left them in a foul state. He laid a generous amount of silver on a nearby table and stated that he would like his clothing cleaned but he had sought Lyness out in order to reach her husband. It was clear from the moment he mentioned the mercenaries name that Lyness bore little love for her wayward husband. However, she had not seen Essenic in nearly a month, so had little to offer the Aesir other than she knew he wasted much time in a riverfront tavern called The House of Lions. The group decided that Cuana and Xacksmith would check out the tavern while Tullweim waited for his clothes to be washed.

The House of Lions was a single-storey building jutting out onto one of the dozens of docks that lined the banks of the Khorotas River as it passed through this district of Tarantia, built so that half of the building was on land, while the other half hovered over the water, a fitting symbol of the men who made up the majority of its clientele. The tavern was a rowdy place filled with equally rowdy men – river traders, bargemen and dock workers all came to deaden the pains and aches of a day’s toil in a jack of beer. The boisterous tavern offered nothing in the way of entertainment – no minstrels plucked at strings, no girls danced for the hollering crowd. Still, it was loud, and all could hear short snippets of bawdy songs even as one approached the door. Within the taverns gloomy confines, the air was heavy with smoke and thick with the irksome reek of stale sweat, wine and beer. Men gathered about the tavern’s battered tables, playing at dice and calling out cries of victory or anger upon the luck of a single roll. Others hovered about the bar itself, waiting like vultures for a fresh mug before rejoining the revelry. In the centre of the room, one man teetered atop a rickety table, the flash of steel in his hand and the flash of silver in the hands of those about the table as he played a drunken game of mumblety peg. A few heads turned in Cuana and Xacksmith’s direction as they entered, took a cautious look, then turned back to their amusements.

The Cimmerian and Hyrkanian’s eyes scanned a sea of hard, weathered faces, the rough patrons of the House of the Lion, looking for their quarry. Their attention fell on the table in the centre of the room, if for no other reason than the sudden and bloodcurdling scream which rose from it. One of the men playing mumblety peg seemed to have badly misjudged his own skill and had impaled his own foot with his blade. A raucous laugh rose above the screams, emanating mockingly from a tall, broad-shouldered man who scooped a small pile of silver from the table and into a worn leather pouch. Clad in a mail shirt and boasting a mane of unkempt, tawny hair, there was little doubt in Cuana and Xacksmith’s mind this was the man they sought.

Xacksmith walked up to Essenic and offered to take the wounded man’s place at the table as Cuana ordered a stiff drink at the bar. Essenic asked if the Hyrkanian had coin to play and Xacksmith nodded. The drunk with the wounded foot was unceremoniously kicked off his chair as the mercenery invited Xacksmith to go first. The Hyrkanian pulled out the dagger he had pilfered off Galbro so many months ago and threw it at Essenic making a slight cut on the mercenaries’ leg. The mercenary spit vitrol and bile at the Hyrkanian and reached for his greatsword. In an attempt to pacify the situation Cuana offered Essenic the drink which had just been placed in his hand. The mercenery scowled at the Cimmerian, refused the drink, and spat out an insult. Enraged, Cuana smashed the tankard of ale on the mercenaries crown. With a swift motion Essenic drew his greatsword and cleaved deep into Cuana’s side. The Cimmerian reeled from the blow and had to lean against the bar to steady himself. The rest of the patrons went dead silent in anticipation of the killing strike they were sure would follow. They were disappointed as Essenic told the men with him to get the Cimmerian out of his sight and Xacksmith followed as Cuana was cast out the door.

When Dhak arrived at his room in the Stag and Whistle he cast a spell of viewing onto the silver mirror he wore around his neck. There he saw Xacksmith carrying a deeply wounded Cuana into Lyness’ home as Tullweim put his slightly damp tunic back on. The Stygian’s brow furrowed and he followed the vision to his compatriots. He arrived shortly thereafter to find the rest of the party arguing over how to handle Essenic’s capture. Dhak asked for an item belonging to the mercenary and Lyness said she had several. The shrewd woman would not part with it without a price however. Tullweim paid to have a battered and broken helm which Essenic had worn in past battles. Dhak took the helm and viewed it from behind Yag-Kosha’s heart. With the gem the Stygian cast a great curse on Essenic. He then looked to the others and stated they were to aid him in replenishing his sorcerous energy and subdue their weakened prey.

After having subdued a pair of Argossean sailors to refuel the Stygian’s power the adventurers returned to the House of Lions. Cuana, barely held together by the quick stitching Tullweim had given him, decided to remain outside behind a corner. Dhak nodded and told Tullweim and Xacksmith to bring Essenic outside where the Cimmerian and Stygian could surprise the mercenary. Tullweim and Xacksmith entered the tavern and the Hyrkanian pointed out Essenic to the Aesir. Tullweim walked straight to his quarry and grabbed the mercenaries shoulder. Essenic rounded on the Aesir and stood up demanding he take his drunken hand off him or lose it. Tullweim replied that he sought to duel Essenic for the state he had left his Cimmerian companion in. Essenic laughed and accepted with much bravado.

The two warriors stepped outside followed by Xacksmith, the 3 sellswords who had gamed with Essenic, and several of the local drunks who placed bets on the fight. Tullweim drew his weapon as the mercenary did the same but before the battle could begin Xacksmith moved swiftly behind one of Essenic’s men and mercilessly slit his throat. Enraged at the treacherous move the infamous mercenary put all his might behind a wild swing at the Aesir but Tullweim easily side-stepped the clumsy attempt. Essenic swung again and the seasoned warrior was bewildered that his movements seemed slow and off their mark as he missed the barbarian a second time. The sellsword closest to Tullweim had better luck as his broadsword cut through the Aesir’s armor and bit into the flesh underneath. Dhak revealed himself by weaving a necromantic spell to raise the mercenary which Xacksmith had dispatched. The sight of the fallen man standing back up, his throat still spitting blood, caused many of the crowd of onlookers and Essenic’s remaining men to flee in terror. Tullweim’s eyes clouded with rage at seeing the raised corpse and he struck Essenic with 2 vicious blows as Dhak retrieved the Elephant’s Heart from his belt. The Stygian looked through the mystical gem at the sellsword who shrunk to half his size. Essenic screamed in panic and tried to run away as the berserk Aesir brought his gemmed Akbitanan greatsword down carving the still shrinking mercenary in twain. Dhak angrily reprimanded Tullweim and ordered him to pick up the 2 pieces of what had once been their quarry. The Aesir did so and the party fled to a nearby dock before any of the local law enforcement arrived.

Amid the refuse which collected underneath the docks along the Khorotas river the Stygian told Tullweim to hold the 2 halves of the diminutive figure together. The Aesir did so as Dhak attempted to sorcerously breathe life back into the sellsword. The result was a bleeding, warbling abomination without the faculty nor vocal functions to answer any of the adventurers questions. Tullweim cast the monstrosity into the river for the fish to devour as Dhak rubbed his temples to ease the pain their current predicament induced. Finally it was decided the party would return to the Stag and Whistle and renew their efforts in the morrow.

Meeting in Twilight

The sun was just touching the western horizon, colouring the buildings of Tarantia crimson and orange and casting long, thin shadows across the narrow cobbled streets the adventurers had spent the day walking. Their limbs ached and the wounds left by the recent battle with the mercenary Essenic stinging, they found themselves looking forward wistfully to hearth and rest, and perhaps a solid meal and a few skins of ale when a carriage rattled to a stop beside the party and the door swung open. It seemed hearth and rest would have to wait.

A man in his late middle years, clad in the dark robes of a Mitran priest, leaned out of the carriage to beckon the adventurers closer. He was a thickly-built, broad-shouldered man who looked as though he would have made an exceptional warrior, and judging by the crook of his nose, it seemed as if he had been in a fight or two during his life. His head was shaven, but he boasted a neatly trimmed beard of dark, if greying, hair.

‘May I offer you a ride?’ he asked. ‘I would like to speak to you for a few moments, and you have the look of those in need of a rest.’

As they all clambered aboard, he asked the parties destination, called it out to the driver, and waited until the carriage was under way again. ‘I’m grateful for the opportunity to speak to you,’ he continued. ‘My name is Constanus, and, as you may have guessed, I am a priest of the one god Mitra. We were all most distraught to learn of the pious Daphnis’ murder at the hands of the blasphemous Asura worshippers. I understand you were the last to speak to him before he went on to the halls of Mitra?’

During the ride back to the Stag and Whistle, Constanus inquired much regarding what the party heard from Daphnis, what they had discovered during their investigation and what they intended to do next. Dhak took the opportunity to look into Constanus’ soul and found him to be a powerful sorcerer. Tullweim answered many of Constanus questions and Cuana inquired if the adventurers could be allowed to look through Daphnis’ room. Constanus told the Cimmerian that Daphnis was from Nemedia, the room he had occupied was for guests of the Mitraeum and there was naught to find there as the dead priests belongings had already been removed. Cuana explained that he would like to see it still and Constanus again refused stating it was only for Mitran priests to traverse those corridors of the church. The priest claimed to have further evidence that the Asurans were behind Daphnis’ murder but stated he was not yet able to reveal it. The cart finally stopped at the Stag and Whistle and Constanus wished the adventurers luck in bringing the Asurans to justice.

Knives in the Dark

After meals were eaten and copious amounts of ale had been drunk the adventurers retired to their respective quarters to rest their weary heads and forget the days troubles. It was late in the night and the entire inn slumbered when Tullweim was awaken by a stirring in his room. The Aesir opened his eyes to see a shadowy figure enter through the window with a short sword in hand. The barbarian bellowed out with rage as he reached for his greatsword. The would-be assassin slashed into Tullweim’s chest and the Aesir responded by lopping his head off with a single stroke. The others had been roused by Tullweim’s roar, each discovering a slayer in their room. Cuana and Xacksmith were both wounded severely by their attacker’s blades, the Hyrkanian succumbed to the oblivion of unconsciousness while Cuana reached for his weapon. Dhak avoided a lethal strike and unsheathed his ghanata knife which he had previously coated with a poisonous concoction. The Stygian reeled on his attacker and struck a glancing blow which did no great harm to his opponent but allowed the poison access to the assassins veins. The man’s once steady hands trembled and his vision clouded as he feebly attempted to strike Dhak.

Cuana struck at his foe with his sword’s pommel. The assassin deftly avoided the blow and sunk his short sword into the Cimmerian’s shoulder. Tullweim threw open the door to his chambers and noticed other occupants in nearby rooms had been roused by the sounds of battle. The Aesir ignored them and listened for his companions, hearing the sounds of battle from Cuana and Dhak’s rooms but only silence from Xacksmith’s quarters. The barbarian bashed in the door to the Hyrkanian’s room and saw another assassin standing over Xacksmith’s still body. Tullweim charged at the slayer and drove his greatsword straight through the rogue’s gut. Dhak watched with amusement as his opponent’s sight completely left him and blood began to trickle from the rogue’s eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. The wretch attempted one final thrust at the Stygian but his swing went wide and he fell dead to the floor. Dhak looked over his foe and noticed a talisman with an unfamiliar sigil around the assassins neck. The Stygian yanked the talisman free and moved into the hallway as the innkeeper tromped up the stairs demanding to know what was going on. Dhak cast a steely gaze at the innkeeper and told him to return to bed. The man backed away from the stairs and called for the city watch. The only foe yet standing squared off with Cuana but he too was brought low as the Cimmerian struck him aside the head with a powerful swing of the flat of his greatswords blade.

flatscan

01-15-2009, 12:35 PM

Questions in the Dead of Night

In past nights Brocas had grudgingly served soldiers of the watch heavily discounted ale and cleaned the mud they tracked in with a curse under his breath. But never in all the years the aging innkeeper had owned the Stag & Whistle was Brocas happier to see the city watch walk into the common room. “They’re upstairs! The brigands who have wrecked four of my rooms and threatened me in my very inn!" The soldiers grunted at the fat old man to clear the way as they tromped up the stairs where Cuana and Tullweim blocked their path. The highest ranked watchman ordered the Cimmerian and Aesir to stand back. The bloodied slayers did so and gave their names freely when asked.

Meanwhile, Dhak and Xacksmith had stolen into Cuana’s room to deal with the unconscious assassin within. The Stygian searched the body and found a talisman on a leather thong around the rogue’s neck. Xacksmith tied his rope to the nearby window and then to the assassin’s legs. The pair lowered the man down to the alley below before they made their way to the ground silent as shadows. Xacksmith found rubble in the alley to hide the prisoner behind, quickly shackled manacles around the man’s legs and bound his arms with rope as Dhak kept a lookout for the watch who stood outside the front of the Stag & Whistle.

Inside the inn Cuana and Tullweim told their tale of the attempted assassinations. The lead watchman was dubious of Cuana’s version of the story and that there were only 3 attackers for the Cimmerian’s wounds betrayed that he’d been in combat. The watch noted the 3 bodies in the Aesir’s, Hyrkanian’s and Stygian’s rooms. The soldier who questioned Cuana threw open the door to the barbarian’s chamber. Inside stood Dhak and Xacksmith. They too were questioned but Dhak bluffed that his and the Hyrkanian’s presence in the room was due to fear of another attack. The smooth-talking Stygian convinced the watchman that the absence of a fourth body was due to there being only 3 assailants.

One of the guards questioned an occupant in the room opposite of Cuana’s. The frightened man whispered of what he heard and saw and his voice lowered further when he mentioned the talisman he’d spied around the assassin’s throat. The watch took on a grim manner as they believed they were dealing with another incident caused by the vile cult of Asura. They gathered the 3 corpses for the meat wagon and were about to depart when Brocas insisted the watch arrest the adventurers. But the watchmen felt the party had done Tarantia a service by killing foul cultists and told the innkeeper if he wanted to eject them from the premises he was free to do so himself. Brocas looked up at the bloodied men and shook his head. He then promised silver if the watch left some men to keep guard and make sure no more damage came to his property. The captain agreed and ordered 3 of his men to stay behind to keep the peace.

As the corpse cart left, Dhak and Xacksmith once again slid to the shadows below their rooms. When Xacksmith uncovered the rubble from the body underneath he discovered the assassin was awake and had undone the bonds around his arms. The Hyrkanian seized the man as Dhak held a ghanata knife to the rogues throat. The Stygian hissed out a demand of who had ordered the slaying and the assassin croaked out the name, ‘Taspius.’ Satisfied and not wishing to attract the guards attention, Dhak slit the man’s throat and left his corpse amidst the offal.

Out of Hiding

The sun had risen high enough to clear the eastern buildings of the city, spreading adequate light for Tullweim to see the general outline of the buildings outside his rooms’ window. As the Aesir prepared to leave his lodgings for another day attempting to unravel the city’s mysteries, there was a soft, almost hesitant knock on his door. Tullweim opened the entryway slowly and saw a cloaked man on the other side.

The man stepped into the room as the door opened, moving with the kind of swiftness most often seen in a thief eluding his pursuers, closing the door behind him just as swiftly. He was tall and thin, dressed in a long, dark coloured cloak bearing more than a few stains of travel. The cloak’s cowl was drawn far forward, concealing his face.

With the door behind him closed again, he turned to the Aesir, pulled back the cowl of the cloak revealing a pale oval of a face, with calm, delicately chiseled features. His hair was dark, with several streaks of grey running through it, and he was clean-shaven.

‘My thanks for receiving me under such odd conditions,’ he said, his voice carrying the accent of one native to Tarantia. ‘After your…recent excitement, I can certainly understand if you feel cautious or uneasy, but allow me to assure you I mean you no harm whatsoever. Indeed, I fear we face a common foe.

‘I could not be certain of your role in what is now happening throughout the city. That is until last night, so you must forgive me for not approaching you earlier. Indeed, it was not until you yourselves came under assault by that band of assassins that I knew you were not actively working as part of some larger plot. Ah, but you must forgive me again. In my haste to explain to you my reasons for not presenting myself sooner, I have forgotten to tell you why I am here now. I am Gaulan, priest of Asura, and neither I nor any of my followers have had a hand in the crimes being ascribed to us.’

Tullweim nodded and whispered that he would like to get one of his companions to hear Gaulan’s tale as well. The Asuran priest agreed and the Aesir left his room quietly so as not to rouse the watchman who slept near the stairs. Tullweim gently rapped on Dhak’s door. When the Stygian opened it he was told that the Aesir needed help moving furniture in his room. Dhak was confused at the request but agreed. When they returned to Tullweim’s room the Aesir began moving the bed towards the window so that Gaulan would not be heard. The Asuran continued his story.

‘Sadly, oaths I have sworn prevent me from discussing much of our customs and rituals with those who do not follow our path. Indeed, were the circumstances any less dire, I would never have come to you, revealing myself as I have. It may be that these oaths of ours are unwise, that our very secrecy, and the ignorance it breeds, has allowed these terrible rumours now infesting the streets of Tarantia to gain currency. Wise or unwise, however, what is done is done, and it is too late now to reconsider. ‘These terrible crimes – the murder of the Mitran priest, the abhorrent acts in the cemetery, the vile attempt on your own lives – have come as an utter surprise to us. I have attempted, through some eldritch means, to find out more of what is happening, but someone or something has successfully managed to block all such attempts. Logic indicates it must be the same person who is behind these crimes, or at least someone closely allied with them.

‘I regret I cannot tell you who it is that has orchestrated these terrible deeds. I can only tell you again that it was not I, nor was it any worshipper of Asura who follows our creeds of justice and scholarship. If you have any questions for me, I shall answer them as fully as my oaths allow, and if you have any need of me, I shall serve you as well as I can so long as your endeavour is truly to uncover the architect of these terrible deeds.

Dhak inquired of Gaulan about the talisman and the parchment he had found on the supposed cultists at Delvyn cemetery. The Asuran priest looked at the talisman and said the sigil was indeed important in the Asuran religion but it made no sense around the neck of an assassin as the sigil meant ‘balance.’ Gaulan also noted the symbols on the parchment were Asuran as well but were divorced from all meaning. The Stygian then asked if Gaulan knew the name Taspius. The Asuran shook his head but said he would look into the name. He told Dhak to seach for a symbol, which Gaulan sketched in the dirt on the floor, in the alley of the Wren later in the afternoon. Once found, the Stygian should dig and would find any information Gaulan uncovered. Dhak then asked if the Asuran knew where to find any poultices which could aid in the parties’ recovery as several of their number were deeply wounded from the assassination attempt the previous night. Gaulan nodded and stated he could find such items and would bury them with whatever information he found on Taspius.

‘I have one boon to ask of you as well. Tell no one of me, or of our conversation this morning. I freely admit that, given the mood of the city, I fear for my safety, and that of all my followers, should my identity become known. I place my trust in your honour.’ Dhak and Tullweim nodded in agreement and the Asuran went to the window and deftly climbed to the alley below.

Dogma & Bigotry

Shortly after Gaulan left, Dhak and Tullweim roused their two companions and informed them of what had just occurred. Afterwards they went down to the common room and ordered breakfast. There they saw the watchman who had been posted at the front of the inn receive a missive. Once read the soldier called out to his companions and ordered them back to the guardhouse. After the watch left the party discussed their plans for the day. The Stygian stated his interest in going to the Mitraeum to inquire about Constanus and to have Xacksmith’s wounds looked at. Dhak speculated that the Mitran priests might have a skilled surgeon who could mend the Hyrkanian’s wounds better than the Aesir had. With a course of action decided upon the adventurers left the Stag & Whistle inn for the last time as the innkeeper made it pointedly clear they were no longer welcome.

Outside the inn a familiar carriage pulled up to the adventurers. The door to the carriage opened and Constanus beckoned the party over to speak with him. ‘I am quite relieved to see you all still hale and hearty,’ Constanus said, dropping his voice low enough to prevent it from being overheard. ‘Word reached me this morning of an attack against your good selves, but I was unable to discover whether you had all survived the attempt on your lives. I was led to believe that these assassins bore more sigils of the murderous cult of Asura? I trust you are now convinced of the culpability of these heathen foreigners in the spate of crimes gripping our city?’

Xacksmith responded with shouted accusations and insults at the Mitran priest, claiming the priest to be the culprit behind the attacks. Constanus was aghast at the Hyrkanian’s verbal assault and Tullweim held Xacksmith back as Dhak attempted to smooth the situation. The Stygian explained that the attempt on the Hyrkanian’s life had put him on edge and he was suffering from fever due to his wounds. Dhak then asked if the Mitraeum had any surgeons who could aid Xacksmith. Constanus nodded in the affirmative that there were those with skill in surgery and the Mitran priest could get them in with but a word. Dhak thanked Constanus for the information but denied the offer of a ride to the Mitreaum, stating the Hyrkanian’s fever and agitated state as the reason. The priest wished the Stygian luck, closed the door to his carriage and left as suddenly as he had appeared.

The party had traveled through the winding streets of Tarantia towards the Mitraeum for the better part of an hour. The sounds of rumor and gossip about the Asurans had escalated to outright threats against all foreign religions and their worshipers. Dhak spoke to Tullweim from horseback about his theories as to Constanus’ connection to the events of the past few nights when he was struck aside the head by a rotten egg. The Stygian immediately turned to see who accosted him and bore witness to a mob of commoners who all began throwing refuse at the foreign adventurers. As the putrid fruit and horse manure flew so did the insults. Tullweim wheeled upon a lady commoner and backhanded her which caused the enraged crowd to close around the party. Some of the men in the mob drew hatchets from their belts and feebly attempted to strike the Aesir and his companions. Cuana was still on edge about the past days events and had taken all the civilized insults he could. The Cimmerian pulled out his greatsword and swung it through the crowd smiting both men and women with wild abandon. Aware that the watch would be drawn to the screams and sounds of battle, Dhak threw flame powder at a nearby assailant and shouted for his comrades to flee.

The Hyrkanian and Stygian rode away while Tullweim growled at the shrinking crowd. Most of the commoners ran from the massacre as quickly as they could though some remained, wailing their sorrow beside the corpses of their loved ones. Dhak’s warning proved true as the watch arrived at the scene shortly after. Cuana fled while the Aesir was struck by a glancing blow but broke away from his assailant with pantherish mobility. An extensive chase throughout the streets resulted but after a few apple carts pushed over and near stampede the Aesir and Cimmerian were able to lose their pursuers amidst the throngs of Tarantia. Though they had also put considerable distance between one another. Cuana pilfered laundry from a clothesline and hunched over back into the streets while Tullweim remained out of sight moving from alley to alley.

Whispers in the Temple

Dhak and Xacksmith arrived at the Mitraeum while services were underway in the great chapel. The only priest which could be seen was speaking from behind his pulpit casting damnation and hellfire to those who would harm Mitra’s flock. The Stygian looked to a doorway to the side in search of anyone who could lead him to a surgeon for his Hyrkanian ally. The door opened in front of the Stygian as a gaunt man in the robes of a Mitran priest walked out and stopped in surprise to see the Stygian stand ahead of him. Before the priest could utter a word Dhak inquired about the surgeon. The baffled priest looked at Xacksmith and his obvious wounds then pointed to the opposite end of the building. Dhak thanked the priest who hurriedly walked away wiping sweat from his brow.

Xacksmith refused to go into surgery without Tullweim guarding against malfeasance. The Stygian argued that he would ensure the Hyrkanian’s safety when he noticed a lone priest, standing in a barely-open doorway, gesture to them to come to him. The priest took sidelong looks up and down the hallway as Dhak and Xacksmith approached and shut the door behind them when they entered. The priest introduced himself as Caudius and asked if they were the men who had seen Daphnis fall. When they nodded in the affirmative the priest said, ‘Please, good lords, I understand you do not know me, but I feel I must speak to you. First, though, I must know – did the most pious Daphnis say anything about a group called the Brotherhood before going to Mitra’s halls?’

The Stygian told Caudius of Daphnis’ cryptic last words. ‘Very well,’ the priest said, nodding. ‘Then there is something I fear I must tell you. I overheard two priests speaking this morning, though I could see only one of them. They appeared to be arguing, though in hushed tones, but at one point the priest I could not see let his anger best him, and his voice rose high enough that I could pick out his words. He told Barthias, the priest I could see, that, though it was regrettable, Daphnis could not be allowed to betray the Brotherhood. Barthias paused for a moment, and then nodded his assent before they quickly went their separate ways. I saw Barthias again perhaps an hour later, and his face still had a haunted look about it. I have never heard of this Brotherhood before, and I know nothing more of it, but if they are behind Daphnis’ murder, they must be brought to justice.’

Dhak was curious about the other priest but Caudius could not name him. The Stygian then asked if a meeting could be arranged with Barthias. The Mitran priest said he could arrange a meeting as soon as a half hour but though he sought justice Caudius was squeamish about any violence towards a fellow priest. The Stygian assured the cleric that he would not harm Barthias without provocation. Caudius thanked the Stygian then agreed to set up the meeting at a grain warehouse a few blocks from the Mitraeum. Dhak then asked about a surgeon to which Caudius led the pair to a chamber of healing. The priest vouched for the surgeon, claiming the man to be skilled and trustworthy. Xacksmith entered the chamber and began preparations as Dhak made his way out of the temple.

Deep in the shadows behind stacked barrels the Stygian waited impatiently for any approach. He was distrustful of Caudius and he had his blade in one hand and the Elephant’s Heart in the other. Caudius arrived at the warehouse next and called out for the Stygian. Dhak revealed himself and Caudius assured him that Barthias was on his way to meet them. Shortly thereafter another Mitran priest arrived and the Stygian smiled at the realization that this was the same priest he’d run into at the Mitraeum. Barthias angrily chided Caudius for calling him out to this warehouse, away from his duties, and demanded an explanation. Dhak stepped out of the shadows and informed Barthias he was the reason for the meeting. The Mitran priest wheeled upon Caudius and would have attacked the younger priest for luring him into a trap had Dhak not stepped in and held his arming sword to Barthias’ throat.

Barthias held his hands up in surrender and the Stygian threatened to open his neck if the priest did not answer his questions true. Dhak asked about the Brotherhood and Barthias told of his suspicions of a Lord Nadanidus. The priest spoke of reading the nobles soul and managed to see the corruption so carefully hidden within. He now believes that Nadanidus is attempting to use the Brotherhood in some way he does not yet understand. Barthias shakingly told of his belief of something very unnatural going on in the catacombs beneath the noble’s manor in Tamar. The Stygian was about to strike the priest in anger at his obvious attempt at avoiding his question when Barthias rambled on about a discovery which gave some credence to his suspicion. Ten days past the priest had found a scale about twice the size of his thumbnail in the catacombs. The priest believed the scale to belong to some enormous snake.

The Stygian was surprised at Barthias tale, being all to familiar with the giant snakes let loose at night in black-walled Khemi. Dhak demanded evidence and Barthias produced the scale from his robes. There could be no doubt in the sorcerer’s mind that it indeed belonged to a creature from his homeland. Perplexed at this new turn, the Stygian asked when the Brotherhood was to next meet. Barthias became tight-lipped but gave in to Caudius’ pleadings for the priest to do the right thing and atone for Daphnis’ murder. Barthias’ face grew ashen at the younger priest’s words and he betrayed that the brotherhood were to meet that very night beneath Lord Nadanidus’ manor. The priest told of a secret entrance beneath Tarantia’s streets and how to find egress to the catacombs. Satisfied with the information and eager to take what he had learned to his companions Dhak lowered his weapon and was about to leave when Caudius called out for him to stop. The priest ran up and asked was nothing to be done about Barthias culpability in the slaying of Daphnis? The Stygian simply walked away stating his business was done with Barthias and if Caudius sought justice he should be man enough to take it himself.

Publius’ Request

Dhak returned to the Mitraeum early in the afternoon and found Cuana and Tullweim standing watch outside the room Xacksmith was undergoing surgery. The gagged screams from the Hyrkanian obviously unsettled the two barbarians but the Stygian acted as if all was well. Dhak whispered that he had received information he daren’t speak of around the many ears in the great church. Tullweim nodded and the party waited uncomfortably for several hours amidst the tortured wails of their companion. When the surgery was finally concluded Xacksmith stepped into the hallway looking fatigued but otherwise healthy. The surgeon was paid a hefty sum of silver and the adventurers left the Mitraeum.

They made their way through the city, avoiding main streets and arrived at the alley of the Wren late in the afternoon. Once they found the Asuran’s symbol Dhak related Barthias’ tale of Lord Nadanidus involvement with the Brotherhood and spoke of the large serpent the priest mentioned. The Stygian warned his companions to stay clear of any such creature and allow the sorcerer to handle it. Cuana finished digging up the letter and wrapped package beneath the sigil. Dhak opened the letter which read, ‘Taspius is a mercenary retainer in the service of Lord Nadanidus. He has served Nadanidus for three years, and is a veteran of several mercenary companies.’ The Cimmerian unwrapped the horse blanket and found 8 small clay jars inside with another note instructing the adventurers to coat their wounds with the paste inside. Cuana and Xacksmith immediately doffed their armor and did so.

With their wounds treated and a decision made to enter Lord Nadanidus’ manor in Tamar the party left the alley of the Wren. They did not travel far before they were hailed by a scout dressed in the colors of a King’s servant. The young man was out of breath but stammered out a claim that he and several other scouts had been scouring the city looking for the party. It seemed the chancellor Publius had demanded the adventurers be brought before him to report. Tullweim agreed and the party followed the scout to the Chancellery.

When they arrived the party was relieved of their weapons again and the pageboy Arn escorted them to Publius’ study. Publius looked far more tired than he did when the adventurers saw him last, as though he had not slept in days. The table in his study, so neat before, was now littered with sheets of parchment, gathered into loose piles. The fire in the hearth was long dead, and a smell of cold ashes gave an acrid tinge to the air in this room. Publius looked up as the party entered, his face a grey and impassive mask.

‘For all the trouble your actions have caused me this day I hope you have something to report,’ he said gravely. ‘I fear this situation is becoming more dire by the hour.’

Dhak related all he had learned earlier in the day regarding Lord Nadanidus, below whose manor the so-called ‘Brotherhood’ held their meetings, the sellsword Taspius, and of his suspicion of involvement on the part of the priest, Constanus. The Chancellor indicated these were serious charges to bring against ones such as Nadanidus and Constanus and he could sense Dhak held something back. The Chancellor pressured Dhak to divulge all of his information of the large scale he had been shown by Barthias belonging to what the Stygian believed was a 'Son of Set.'

‘This is disturbing news,’ Publius said as Dhak finished his tale. ‘Very well. I’ve a favour to ask of you, one for which you will be compensated, of course. You have brought me speculation about Lord Nadanidus, but not proof, and without that proof, I cannot move against him. He is a wealthy and exceedingly influential individual, and if I were to send the guard after him and later be proven wrong, the results would be unfortunate for all concerned. I would, therefore, like you to find the proof I need to justify such a move. If you agree, you will be operating without my official sanction. Should you find no evidence of an alliance to Set, I can likely get you out of Tarantia, but you can never return. If you do find it, however – I will pardon you of the violence in the streets and see you safely out of the city. Do you feel you are capable of such a challenge?’ The adventurers agreed and Publius offered the sum of 2,000 silver to be given when they returned with the evidence needed.

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02-03-2009, 12:20 PM

Beneath the City

Cuana and Tullweim lifted the grate in the street Dhak had led the party to. A pungent odor assaulted the adventurers’ nostrils from the cesspits below but the Stygian steeled his nerves and climbed down with Xacksmith behind. The Hyrkanian lit a candle which flared brightly amidst the noxious fumes. The adventurers did not travel far when they arrived at a foul cistern which reeked of the sewage from the nearby noble manors. If the information Dhak was given was correct, this dismal junction room held the entryway into Lord Nadanidus’ catacombs. The adventurers glanced around, but there was no door in evidence, only the room’s old stone walls, slick and green with lichen. The room itself was more or less square, though its low ceiling, supported by four square pillars of brick, caused the party to stoop. Including the entry they used, there were three tunnels leading out of the room, heading, they assumed, deeper into the sewers. A narrow, filth-slick walkway ran around the perimeter of the room, bridging the three exits with rotted wood catwalks. Aside from this walkway, none of the room’s floor was visible, concealed beneath a slow-moving tide of deep and noxious sludge. Stains on the walls marked the level to which the sludge had risen in the past, and the adventurers were grateful there had been little rain in Tarantia of late.

Dhak braved the catwalk and made his way to where Barthias had told the secret entrance would be found. Xacksmith followed with candle in hand but the fatigued Hyrkanian’s foot slipped off the walkway and he tumbled into the filth below. The cistern was not deep and the Hyrkanian was in no danger of being swept away, though he did lose his candle as well as most of the last meal he had eaten. Dhak lit a candle of his own as Xacksmith wiped the refuse from his eyes and climbed back onto the catwalk. Not wanting to follow the Hyrkanian into the muck, Cuana dug his fingers into the lichen patches along the brick wall and carefully moved across the walkway without incident. Tullweim then attempted to cross, but the Aesir’s weight caused the rotten wood to give and he too was swallowed by the sludge below. Tullweim stood cursing and flinging muck off his person while Dhak indicated to Xacksmith where the door to the catacombs should be and the Hyrkanian quickly found a hidden latch revealing a narrow, winding passage with lit sconces showing the way.

The passage ended at a door which appeared unlatched. The Stygian pressed his ear against the door and could hear the murmur of several men behind it. Dhak reached into his satchel and retrieved the dark robes of a Stygian priest he had acquired in Ianthe. Tullweim inquired what Dhak was up to and the Stygian replied that the robes of Mitran priests were similar in color. The Stygian’s plan was to pretend to be one of the corrupt Mitrans come to meet with the others. The Aesir nodded his approval as Dhak quickly dropped most of his equipment and donned his robes. The Stygian then opened the door and entered a room which was empty except for the 3 guards who stood there. The guards challenged the Stygian, who bluffed his intention of joining the meeting. The guards waved him past the southeastern door and closed it behind him. Shortly thereafter the door to the sewer entrance was opened again and the rest of the party charged their foes. Cuana and Tullweim slaughtered 2 of the surprised guards as the third attempted to flee through the southeastern door. The guard was in mid-cry as he flung the door open to be met by Dhak’s blade.

The Brotherhood of the Bull

The Stygian gathered his equipment from Tullweim, stole towards the door which the guards stated the Brotherhood of the Bull met behind and pressed his ear against it. Dhak could hear furtive whispers demand someone investigate the cry that was heard. The Stygian stepped back just as the door opened, revealing a Mitran priest. Tullweim leapt at the priest and easily drove his Akbitanan greatsword through the unarmored Mitran. Constanus stood among the throng of priests who met in this larder and commanded the others to smite the infidel heretics. Many of the priests rushed the adventurers with daggers as several stood afar from the melee, weaving spells targeting the Aesir and Cimmerian. Cuana delivered a slash which would have killed a man upon the shoulder of a priest who used his sorcery in defense, defiantly declaring he would not die this hour.

Constanus hurled a glass orb at Cuana which exploded into fire when it hit the Cimmerian’s armor. Xacksmith skewered several of the Mitrans with arrows from his Hyrkanian bow. Dhak uttered dread words older than Acheron, causing one of the slain priests to rise. Several of the Mitrans panicked at the sight of one of their fallen comrades standing again as Cuana and Tullweim entered a crimson mist. The Cimmerian had suffered much by the machinations of this brotherhood and he could no longer hold his hatred in. Cuana smote the 5 priests surrounding him with a roar that shook the pillars holding up the smoke-blackened ceiling. The Stygian loosed 2 arrows with his Stygian bow and struck down another Mitran. One of the priests finished casting his spell and Tullweim became entranced by the Mitrans hypnotic stare. The priest then bade the Aesir lay his sword before him and sleep. 5 more manor guards arrived at the scene. Dhak reached into a pouch from his belt and threw thunderclap powder with an ear-shattering crash which filled the hallway with smoke.

The Mitran priest Constanus could see the tide of battle was not in his favor as many of his brothers lay dead at his feet. Constanus cast sorcery which affected all who saw him. He suggested the fight was between the adventurers and Lord Nadanidus and he would leave to allow them to settle their dispute. Not even the Cimmerian’s hatred could keep Constanus’ words from subduing Cuana’s sword arm. Tullweim roused to see all stand aside as the Mitran exited the larder through the smoke-filled hallway. Once out of the way a manor guard drove his broadsword to the hilt through Dhak’s gut. One of the remaining priests hypnotized Cuana forcing him to fall to the ground in submission. Xacksmith skewered Cuana’s assailant with 2 arrows to the chest. Tullweim rushed to the door to allow Dhak to break away from his attacker and keep the guards from entering the larder.

Though the guards delivered fierce blows to the Aesir with the intent of forcing him back into the room, Tullweim stood as unmoving as one of the pillars in the room. Instead it was the guards who retreated from the Aesir’s greatsword as he delivered savage sword swings and near sundered a foe’s shield. After knocking the last Mitran unconscious, Cuana and Xacksmith flanked the Aesir and prepared to fill his place should he fall or withdraw. A guard commander shouted an order to clear the way as he moved forward to face Tullweim. The captain delivered a powerful strike to the Aesir, but his grin vanished as Dhak gazed at him through the Heart of the Elephant and hurled shrinking doom on the officer. The other guards gaped in horror as their captain shriveled to the size of a marionette, screaming in unmasked terror as he ran ‘tween their legs. The sound of more guards entering the hallway was heard as another voice commanded the guards to stand their ground and push the intruders back into the room. Tullweim grasped his blade and shouted a challenge to all who would meet their death before him.

flatscan

02-23-2009, 07:58 AM

The Grim Larder

Tullweim blocked the doorway with sweeping swings of his Akbitanan greatsword and roared out a challenge. The guards who attempted to press into the larder hesitated for but a moment when an order was shouted out as more guards entered the hallway past the adventurers’ line of sight. The guards doubled their efforts to force the barbarian back, striking powerful blows the Aesir could not easily parry. Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith did not have room to aid their Aesir companion and were trapped in the larder. The desperation of their plight lent strength to each blow Tullweim struck as Cuana and Xacksmith readied themselves should a guard break through. The Stygian bent over the unconscious Mitran priest and placed his hand to the man’s forehead. For a moment Dhak was exactly the predatory heretic the Mitran’s warned of as he drained the priest of his wits to fuel his sorcerous power. The Stygian then drove his Ghanata knife into the priests chest, spilling his lifeblood in ritual sacrifice. The commander’s voice was heard again ordering the wounded guards back. A man in a mail shirt with a finely crafted arming sword and the scars of many battles on his face squared off with the Aesir. The hardened mercenary announced himself as Taspius, Lord Nadanidus’ guard captain, before delivering two powerful strikes with his Akbitanan arming sword which sliced through the barbarian’s armor and bit deep into his flesh.

Tullweim was close to succumbing to his wounds and swung twice at Taspius before stepping back into the room. The mercenary rushed in after the Aesir and Cuana swung down with his greatsword. Taspius wheeled on the Cimmerian as Xacksmith slid like a shadow and plunged his arming sword through the mercenaries back. The Stygian smiled at the opportunity and with his power replenished from sacrificing the priest, Dhak wove a necromantic spell around Taspius’ corpse. The mercenary stood again, his lifeless eyes looking at the guards who had served under him, filling them with terror. Cuana also felt the cold breath of the grave whisper down the back of his neck and fearfully backed away. The rest of the guards fled to opposite ends of the hallway, half to the entry chamber and the other half past the door they had originally entered from. Dhak sent Taspius’ risen corpse towards the door the adventurers had not yet explored to bash it down.

Xacksmith moved across the hallway to a closed door. He found the door locked but quick use of his masterwork thieves’ tools remedied the problem. Behind the door was a cool room furnished with wooden racks along each wall, holding nearly 200 bottles of wine. The Hyrkanian quickly glanced over the bottles and discovered they were from a variety of countries, though many of the bottles were labeled in a number of unknown scripts. Near the back of the room the Hyrkanian discovered several bottles of black lotus wine and a single glass bottle with a golden liquid within. Xacksmith called Tullweim to him and the Aesir opened the bottle, smelling the sweet wine within. The Aesir had tasted the Golden Wine of Xuthal in the past and thanked Ymir for the luck in finding it now. Tullweim downed most of the liquid then called out to Cuana. The Cimmerian partook of the liquid at the Aesir’s urgings and immediately felt the pain of his wounds ebb. And not a moment too soon. The door which led further into the catacombs was thrown open and fresh guards poured forth.

Despite the guards advantage they could do little more than nick the Stygian as he defended himself from behind a shield taken off a guards corpse. But he knew they would soon press in and the Stygian could be easily overtaken so Dhak let loose a powerful defensive blast which caused the guards around him to become mesmerized. Weakened by the effort Dhak quickly slit the throats of the two closest guards. Dhak once again spoke words any sane man wouldn’t dare whisper and two of the slain guards stood up. The guards, Cuana and Xacksmith were all overcome with terror as the corpses shambled towards the guards who still lived. One of the guards lagged behind the others and was caught by the risen dead and torn limb from limb. The other guards retreated behind doors quickly closed and latched. The adventurers moved into the now open connecting hallway and looked about. They saw stairs which led up, two nearby doors which Nadanidus’ guards quaked behind and a continuation of the hallway. As he moved down the hallway, Xacksmith noticed a secret door and with some effort picked the lock.

Behind the cleverly concealed door laid the treasury of Lord Nadanidus. Coins, precious gems, art objects and other items of great value were scattered within the room. The adventurers were overcome by the sight of the wealth and quickly filled their pockets. Dhak discovered a large diamond the size of his fist. The Hyrkanian noticed another door in the northwest corner of the treasury as he filled his pouches. The door was unlocked and slightly open as if someone had passed through it in a great hurry. Behind the door was a rough-hewn corridor leading to a natural cave.

The Shrine of Set

The rough walls of the natural cave was covered with heavy black hangings which framed the dark alter in the centre of the room. Atop the altar were several golden vessels set with rubies and onyx and behind it a man in the finery of a noble stood intoning a prayer to the Stygian god. Before the altar was coiled a huge snake, the sight of which sent waves of panic in all but Cuana. The snake lunged at the Cimmerian while his allies ran in terror. The lesser son of Set’s huge fangs bit deep into Cuana, grabbing him so the creature could coil around the barbarian and squeeze the life out of him. Once the barbarian quit struggling and lay on the floor as a corpse the serpent chased after the others. It bit Tullweim and wrapped him within its coils. The Aesir gasped for aid and Dhak was able to momentarily conquer his fear long enough to use the Heart of the Elephant to cast shrinking doom on the creature. The son of Set shrank down to the size of a python but Tullweim was still unable to break free. The Stygian then touched the serpent with the diamond he had found in Lord Nadanidus’ treasury, which caused the creature and the Aesir to be sucked into the gem. It took all the Aesir’s strength to pull free from the creature as it was sucked into the gem. The snake hissed and struck at the diamond but was harmless inside the gem.

The adventurers moved back to the shrine and Dhak challenged Nadanidus’, showing the serpent trapped within the diamond. Enraged, the corrupt noble attacked the Stygian with an Akbitanan broadsword which Dhak was unable to dodge. Though he bled from the wound the Stygian moved back from Lord Nadanidus, locked the nobles eyes with his own and engaged him in a sorcerous war of souls. The corrupt noble could not break free but his will proved to be more powerful than the Stygian’s and he drained Dhak of some of his wits. Tullweim then moved to the noble who was unable to physically defend himself and uncerimoniously lopped his head off. The Aesir then spent the next 15 minutes in an attempt to stabilize Cuana. Meanwhile Dhak took stock of the room and shook his head at the ironic events fate had led him to. The Stygian grabbed Lord Nadanidus’ head and wrapped his robes around it. Cuana was roused when Tullweim poured some wine down the Cimmerian’s gullet. When he was able to stand the adventurers quickly fled from the cellar the way they had come. Nobody challenged their egress.

The Confession

Tullweim suggested the party hide the spoils from Nadanidus’ treasury before meeting with Publius. The adventurers ducked into a nearby alley and hid the wine bottles, gems, and coins under refuse that nobody but Tarantia’s most desperate would bother. Afterwards the adventurers headed for the Chancellory.

They were admitted immediately and Publius received them in his study with an exhausted look on his face. Dhak spoke of the events occurred and of Nadanidus’ part in Constanus’ mechanitions. Publius demanded proof and the Stygian presented Nadanidus’ head. Dhak cast sorcery that animated the disembodied head to speak. Publius shrank in horror at the sight but listened intently as the Stygian intimidated the bodiless head into confessing. Dhak then showed Publius the son of set trapped in the gem. The Chancellor nodded grimly and thanked the party for putting an end to Nadanidus’ plot. Publius intimated his desire for the events to remain quiet and gave the adventurers the promised 2,500 silver. Cuana asked the High Chancellor to give his share to the families of those he’d slaughtered in the street. Publius nodded in understanding and told the party they were to be escorted out the southern gate to avoid any trouble. As they moved through the streets, Tullweim looked back longingly at where the party had buried their spoils as 8 Black Dragons marched the adventurers out of the city and into the wild once again.

Epilogue

The adventurers did not travel far in the dark of night. The next morning Xacksmith awoke with agonizing abdominal pain and a sudden fever. He wouldn’t keep anything he ate down and convulsed as if he was in the frozen north in the midst of the winter. Dhak examined the Hyrkanian and determined his blood was poisoned, most likely caused by the unsteady hands of the Mitran surgeon and aggravated by the sewage Xacksmith had fallen in. The party decided to stay where they were for the day, scant miles from the capital city. Morale was low due to Xacksmith’s condition and the lost spoils hidden in the muck-ridden alleys of Tarantia. The day passed with Dhak tending to Xacksmith while Cuana and Tullweim hunted for food.

Late in the evening as the party ate their catch, Dhak heard a sound from the nearby woods. The Stygian called out a challenge and a shadowy figure stepped forward. The figure threw back his hood and revealed himself as Gaulan the Asuran priest. Gaulan thanked the adventurers for their part in foiling Lord Nadanidus’ plot. He informed them that the assassination of the priest Daphnis and the subsequent crimes that had plagued the streets of Tarantia the past few days were laid firmly at the feet of the cult of Set. When asked about Constanus, Gaulan grimly replied that the involvement of the Mitran priests who made up the Brotherhood of the Bull was completely concealed. Constanus faced no charges, no trial in court but Gaulan had heard the corrupt priest would be remanded by the higher ups in the Mitraeum. What fate awaited him at the hands of his fellow Mitran priests was unknown, but was not likely to be pleasant. Gaulan then apologized for almost forgetting and dropped a sack in front of the party. Dhak opened the sack and found several of the bottles of Black Lotus wine as well as much of the silver and gems taken from Nadanidus’ treasury. Even Xacksmith’s spirits rose at the sight of the wealth the party had thought lost. Gaulan ate with the party and listened to the adventurers tales of the past night with much interest. He thanked the party again and took his leave in the midst of night pledging himself an ally and friend.

flatscan

03-06-2009, 08:52 AM

HP Total for all PCs at the end of the Heretics of Tarantia:

| Cuana -10 Left for Dead | Dhak 11 | Tullweim 2 | Xacksmith 7 |

And a slight correction (wish this board would let me edit old posts), Tullweim was not sucked into the diamond with the Son of Set. He was in danger of being pulled in but broke free from the snakes coils.

flatscan

04-13-2009, 07:12 PM

Chapter 10 Session 1

The Hunter Hunted

It had been many weeks since Cuana, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith left Tarantia for the wild places west of Aquilonia. With Publius’ promise of work on the Westermarck the adventurers traveled to the Bossonian Marches in search of their erstwhile ally Fuldonus. They heard tale of their friend having taken a position as a Sheriff in the Oriskonie province. It took a week of travel to get to the province where the party again met the soldier who had lopped off the demon Kara-Prama’s head in Shadizar years ago. They were greeted with open arms and Cuana and Tullweim recognized Fuldonus’ wife as the same bar wench he had left with in Numalia, holding the retired adventurers young son proudly in her arms.

After a meal was had and stories swapped Fuldonus convinced the adventurers to help him with a local law-enforcement matter. It seemed a ranger named Baraccus was wanted for questioning about the disappearance of 3 local women, one little more than a girl. The ranger knew the frontier wilderness well and had stolen out of the province in the cover of night. The scarce tracks found implied the ranger traveled south. Fuldonus offered a generous sum of silver if the adventurers tracked and apprehended Baraccus. The only obligation was the ranger had to be brought to the Oriskonie province alive so he could be interrogated. If the missing women could not be recovered still breathing Fuldonus wanted to be able to retrieve their bodies for proper burial. The next morning the party set out for weeks of travel following rumors of a ghost of a man through the Westermarck.

Arrival at Dusk

The adventurers saw the handsome frontier-town of Schondara in the distance with the dwindling light of the day. No wall surrounded the town and the area had been cleared for a half mile in all directions. On the outskirts of the town sat a fort and above it flew the spread-winged hawk standard of the Schohira province looking as if it would take flight with the summer breeze if it were not secured to a post. Several groups of cavalrymen patrolled around the town but paid the party little heed, their eyes ever on the verdant forest surrounding them.

The loud, boisterous activity within the frontier town could be heard as the party approached. The smell of horses, donkeys, and oxen mingled with the evening air among the white-washed log-cabins and small cottages. Men wearing animal skins bartered as women in moccasins talked amongst themselves and watched their children play. The larger houses that sheltered the land-owners and aristocracy stood at the end of Schondara, closest to the gardens and orchards amid the largest house called the Hall. Past the Hall stood the fort which stationed 50 soldiers and borderers commanded by Dirk Strom’s son, known to be stubborn and haughty, though his reputation held he was more than capable in battle.

In search of food and ale, Cuana caught sight of a ranger in his middle years with a patch over his right eye. The ranger held a curious staff and appeared to be waiting impatiently with an unnerving manner about him. The Cimmerian approached the ranger, offered his name and asked about a watering hole where he could allay his travel-parched throat. The Thandaran ranger plainly stated his name as Gault. He looked at the roads which led into town, sighed, and said he would lead the Cimmerian to the lone tavern as he could use a drink himself. Cuana called his allies to him and Gault cast sidelong looks at the heavily armed and armored Aesir, Stygian, and Hyrkanian. The ranger asked if the party were mercenaries looking to kill Picts and Dhak nodded saying, “we’re hunters looking for prey.” The Stygian then inquired about the odd staff Gault held. The staff was as tall as a hyperborean with strange symbols carved into it, a sharp point at the butt and a single healthy leaf growing out the top. The Thandaran ranger said only that it was an item he held for a friend.

Tullweim questioned Gault about the ranger’s missing eye. The Thandaran told of losing it to a panther when he was young while fleeing from a Pict raiding party. The panther had stalked the Thandaran ranger when he had thought he’d lost the Picts. It pounced with unnatural fury as he was drinking from a stream. Took his eye. The beast almost took his life too but he buried his axe in its neck. Gault smiled grimly and said that was many years ago and he was now known to the Picts as the one-eyed death. The Aesir asked about Pict battle tactics, having heard bloody tales of the savages destroying better equipped, experienced Hyborian soldiers. The Thandaran nodded and said the first mistake many new-comers to the Westermarck made was being weighed down by too much equipment. Most of the soldiers in the fort wore mail shirts and some cavalry donned medium armor, but traveling in the Pictish wilderness in anything heavier would be a fatal mistake. The sound of the creaking heavy armor, like Tullweim wore, would give away a soldier’s position to any Pict in the area and the weight of it would mean no chance of fleeing. The Aesir challenged the ranger, saying the armor would surely protect a soldier from the primitive weapons of the Picts. Gault chuckled and stated over-confidence in a soldiers superiority was the second most common mistake. He agreed that heavy armor may turn the stone hatchets away, but the ranger then asked what the Aesir would do when 5 Picts pinned him to the ground and sliced the crown from his head? The experienced woodsman related tales of Picts seeking glory by taking down mighty opponents, scalping them and claiming their weapons. Gault spoke of his experience fighting the three tribes which lived in the forests near Schondara, the Panther, Turtle and Wildcats. With a chill running down their backs from the tales of Pictish savagery the adventurers saw the welcoming glow of a torch-lit tavern sign.

The Laughing Boar was a large building constructed of thick logs. Past the doors could be heard the raucous of large groups of men and women reveling drunkenly. Loggers, borderers, and carousers of all types were found inside, deadening the pains and aches of frontier life in a tankard of Gunderland mead or Bossonian whiskey. Large bouncers kept watch over the tavern and stage where minstrels plucked at strings. Men gathered about the tavern’s battered tables, playing at dice and calling out cries of victory or anger upon the luck of a single roll. The adventurers would not know the frontier was ever short on women at the sight of the lovely dancing girls on tables and the men who ogled over them. The large bar was full and it seemed the weight of patrons at it would tip it over. The air was heavy with smoke, the scents of Gunderland-style sausages, bread of all kinds and Tauranian cheeses mingled with the stale sweat of the Laughing Boars patrons.

The party sat near the front of the tavern, ordered food and drink from the scantily clad serving wench while keeping their eyes open for any sign of their quarry. As the drinks arrived Gault asked again what the adventurers were doing in Schondara. It was obvious he did not believe they were in the province to hunt Picts. Tullweim related the tale of the kidnappings in the Oriskonie province by Baraccus and showed Gault the writ they’d been given by Fuldonus, signed by the governor of Oriskonie bestowing temporary deputy powers to the adventurers. The Thandaran ranger nodded, saying he knew of Baraccus as a ranger who had fought well in several battles against Picts but did so with hot blood and seemed to relish in the slaughter. Gault said he’d seen Baraccus arrive in Schondara 3 nights ago with several other rangers and they’d spent most of their time in town trading pelts and Pictish jewelry for ale and whores. He then smiled, saying the party was in luck as he gestured to the back of the tavern at a tawny haired Hyborian with a full beard and mustache, wearing a tribal tattoo on his bare chest. The Thandaran ranger stated that man was Baraccus, though he called himself by another name in these parts. The 4 men around him were the rangers he’d entered into town with. 3 dancing girls flirted with the group as jewelry passed hands, a bouncer stood with arms crossed nearby, and an exit was noted behind the fugitive.

The adventurers quickly schemed a plan. Both Xacksmith and Cuana left the tavern and walked around the building to the door Baraccus sat near. Dhak, Gault, and Tullweim approached Baraccus’ table with a heavy step. The Aesir bellowed to the man with the tribal tattoo, showed the writ, and named the ranger Baraccus. The fugitive laughed, claiming his name to be Otho, while the rangers around him nodded as their hands went to their axes. The closest bouncer was about to intervene but was blocked by the sharp end of Gault’s staff, held to the bouncer’s chest, as the old Thandaran declared the adventurers to be deputies carrying out their duty. 3 of the rangers rushed at Dhak and Tullweim. The Aesir attempted to subdue an adversary with the flat of his greatswords blade, but missed, wrecking a nearby table. Dhak avoided an axe swing and responded with a slice of his arming sword. Cuana rushed in from the back door after hearing the combat begin. The Cimmerian followed Tullweim’s lead in attack, but his powerful blow was easily dodged by the fugitive and splintered a chair. Xacksmith stayed outside, his war spear ready should any attempt to leave through the door.

The fight was quick as Tullweim knocked two of the unarmored rangers unconscious and Dhak, though wounded by an axe swing, drove his blade through the third. Cuana killed the fourth ranger as Baraccus tripped the barbarian, followed up the attack, then tumbled past the Cimmerian’s reach. The fugitive ranger was quickly surrounded by the Aesir, Cimmerian, and Hyrkanian. With one last desperate attempt to escape Baraccus again tumbled out of Cuana and Xacksmith’s reach but in doing so he left himself open to Tullweim. The Aesir bashed the pommel of his greatsword upon the ranger’s forehead, knocking him out cold to much applause from the bar’s patrons. Gault gestured to the bouncer and whispered to Tullweim that they should make an attempt at paying for the damage. The Aesir obliged with silver passing hands to the barkeep for the wrecked tables, chairs, and 2 rooms for the night. Baraccus was tied like a hog and taken to one of the rooms where Tullweim took first watch. The adventurers thanked Gault for his assistance and the Thandaran ranger grinned wolfishly, returned the thanks, finished his drink and left. Dhak used the patrons’ mood to entice one of the dancing girls to warm his bed for an hour while Cuana and Xacksmith enjoyed the drinks bought for them at the bar.

A Rude Awakening

Dhak had kept a steely gaze on Baraccus’ unconscious form for an hour. He had taken the final watch before the dawn and counted the ranger lucky for not being awake to hear Cuana’s snoring. The Stygian readjusted himself in his chair when the door to the room was struck. A primitive hatchet bashed its way through the doors lock. The hatchet’s wielder was a Pict, painted for war with a single eagle feather in his black hair and a string of wolf’s teeth around his throat. The Pict snarled at the Stygian and rushed as Dhak pulled his arming sword and shouted for Cuana to wake. Dhak struck the Pict a glancing blow and retreated towards the far wall as the Cimmerian grabbed his greatsword, bellowing out a war cry.

flatscan

04-13-2009, 07:15 PM

Chapter 10 Session 2

The Call to Arms

It was not a rooster’s crow but a blood-curdling scream which cut the chill morning air in Schondara. No warning was given of the Picts attack. No alarm raised. Settlers were shot down as they fled their homes or slaughtered in their beds. Their scalps collected by the savages as they called out their war cries, their war-drums pounding. But some in the settler’s town stood and fought. Cuana took a glancing blow from a Picts hatchet and the Cimmerian responded by thrusting his greatsword through the savage. Dhak fired his Stygian bow at the Picts outside, sinking 3 arrows into one and ending the savage’s miserable life. On the other side of the inn, Tullweim and Xacksmith awoke from a Picts primitive hatchet bashing apart the door’s lock. The Aesir grabbed his Akbitanan greatsword and blocked the entryway as Xacksmith fired his Hyrkanian bow. After fleeting seconds of bloody combat, the Picts at their doors were slain and the adventurers gathered their gear with great haste for they all noticed the embers falling from the burning roof.

Baraccus cried frantically to be released. Dhak responded by pressing his hand against the fugitive ranger’s face and draining him of his wits. Cuana grabbed the senseless fugitive and hurled him, still tied to his chair, out the front door as a large piece of rafter fell on the Cimmerian’s back. Cuana grabbed his armor and fled the burning building. Tullweim and Xacksmith finished off the 3 Picts outside their door, gathering cuts and bruises for their efforts. The Aesir noticed the flames licking the ceiling and threw his armor as the Hyrkanian cast his backpack beyond the flames reach. The companions exited the Laughing Boar’s rooms and saw the carnage being laid to Schondara. Buildings were ablaze with fire, captives were drug out of their houses, and those who fought were cruelly slain. The town was in chaos. Dhak fired at another group of Picts who had spotted the adventurers and urged Cuana to attack them. The unarmored Cimmerian began to charge but was struck by multiple Pict arrows which bit deep. His various wounds were soon to be more than even the Cimmerian could bear. Cuana knew there could be no victory by staying to fight and so he left his companions as he ran northward.

Dhak called after the Cimmerian but did not follow. Instead he cast powder from a pouch which caught the Picts leader in flames. Xacksmith arrived shortly thereafter and engaged the feather-adorned savages in melee. One of the Picts overran the Hyrkanian while his party brought their hatchets and clubs down upon Xacksmith with a bestial fury. With the Hyrkanian fallen the Picts rushed Dhak. The Stygian could not stand before the unwavering onslaught. Tullweim rounded the corner to see two of his companions motion-less on the ground and a Pict holding up Dhak’s Akbitanan arming sword, whooping in victory. The Aesir let his smoldering anger rise and charged with a fighting madness. He slashed the Pict’s leader with a murderous blow as the savages surrounded him.

Cuana had not traveled far from the ruins of the Laughing Boar when he ran into the old Thandaran Ranger, Gault. Multiple arrows jutted from the rangers back and the Cimmerian could tell by the cast of Gault’s face that he hovered at death’s door. The Thandaran clasped Cuana’s shoulder, thrust the curious staff he held towards the Cimmerian and said, “Sir…you must…take this staff out of Schondara. Don’t let it fall into the Picts’ hands. The fate of the Westermarck may well depend on this task. This is no mere raid, but the onset of a full-scale war. Go north with it! Go north to…” Gault’s words were silenced by a Pictish arrow in the back. Cuana picked up the staff and turned around to see Tullweim’s plight. The Cimmerian charged, dropped the staff on the way, cut down a Pict and cleaved into another. With their immediate enemies felled, Tullweim grabbed the Stygian as Cuana retrieved the staff and picked up Xacksmith.

As they fled Schondara they saw the Pict’s war chief leading the assault, in the distance, fighting soldiers from the fort. The soldiers were badly out-numbered and it was obvious they fought their last battle. The party passed other soldiers present in the doomed town, half dressed in their armour, attempting to help. Some directed the women and children out of the town, trying to make a safe path for them. Others armed the men and encouraged them to fight. Confusion hung in the air on the parts of the various soldiers, all of whom were now leaderless and having to form their own strategies and initiatives. One soldier called on the adventurers to stand and fight but neither Cuana or Tullweim stopped. The soldier shouted after them, “cowards,” as they traveled into the cleared land outside the town . The forest stood only a half-mile in the distance but the Aesir and Cimmerian saw north-bound fleeing women and children ambushed by Picts. Tullweim grit his teeth at the hopelessness of the situation and the adventurers gauged the safest path of egress out of the damned town to be to the east.

Into the Little Wilderness

The Cimmerian and Aesir stayed low to the ground as they neared the forest trees, crowned by a sliver of morning light. A last glance at the smoldering ruin of Schondara was taken as they left the last vestige of civilization for miles around. Though not rangers, the barbarians were accomplished woodsmen and pressed on for another hour. The fury of the drums and the Picts’ war cries sounded less in their ears so they took the chance to stop and tend to their disabled companions. With wounds sewed up, poultices applied, and water passed from the Hyrkanian’s backpack both Dhak and Xacksmith were successfully roused. The Aesir and Cimmerian then donned their hauberks as the Hyrkanian donned his leather. Cuana handed Gault’s staff to Xacksmith as the Hyrkanian had lost all his weapons in Schondara. The Cimmerian felt enough time had been lost by their stop and urged his companions to continue moving to the east to put further distance between themselves and the savages.

The forest grew thicker as they moved further into it. Trees loomed high, dense foliage formed a shaded canopy, and the thick undergrowth slowed their progress. Every footfall the Stygian made crunched leaves noisily underneath. The others cringed at the sound but even the carefullest among them put much concentration in not doing the same. Shortly thereafter, Cuana heard a strange sound from their rear. A sound as if something sharp blazed against a tree. The Cimmerian silenced the others and waited a moment to listen, but heard nothing else. The Hyrkanian was not so fortunate. Xacksmith heard the strangest sounds on the wind through the trees, sounds that chilled his blood. It was as if the trees were whispering to him in a blasphemous cacophony. Cuana had to break the reverie the Hyrkanian was in as Tullweim asked the Cimmerian what he had heard. Cuana responded that there were worse things in the forest than Picts and back-tracked to where he thought he’d heard the noise. A few moments of searching revealed a tree which had deep claw marks scratched into its bark. Neither the barbarians nor the borderer knew what had made the marks and there was no evidence of it other then the carvings in the tree. Baffled, the party decided it best to keep moving.

A mile of travel further into the Little Wilderness led the adventurers to a large creek. The current was swift and the barbarians were about to doff their armor to wade it when Dhak warned them to stop. The Stygian told tale of large lizards living in the streams and rivers of this forest, similar to those in his homeland. Dhak advised they find another means to cross. Cuana looked up at a nearby tree and suggested throwing a rope and grapple to a tree on the opposite bank. Xacksmith volunteered the rope of dead woman’s hair from his pack and Cuana climbed the tree, securing one end of the rope to it. The Cimmerian then cast the cord to the opposite tree and pulled firmly. Cuana tested the rope and once satisfied it could hold his weight he attempted to cross the river. As Cuana crossed, Tullweim and the others once again heard the scraping noise from behind. The adventurers exchanged knowing looks and attempted to once again listen for any further sound which would betray whatever was following them. Dhak and Tullweim heard nothing, while Xacksmith once again shuddered at the strange whispers that seemed to surround him. The Aesir noticed Xacksmith’s disposition and backhanded the Hyrkanian to once again free him from the profane sounds which held him fast.

Dhak was next to attempt crossing the creek. The Stygian tested the rope and believed it would hold sure enough for him to keep his balance as he tight-roped across. He traveled a few paces when his foot slipped and only his quick reflexes kept him from tumbling into the drink. But his dangling foot tempted the alligator below and it lunged out of the water biting down on the Stygian’s leg. Dhak was able to utter an arcane word which held the alligator still with a terrible fascination. The Stygian then lost consciousness. Tullweim wasted no time and plunged into the water to retrieve his ally. The Aesir noted several more pairs of water lizard eyes breaching the surface of the creek and thanked Ymir they were held by the Stygian’s floating form as well. Once Dhak was returned to the shore Tullweim attempted to patch the Stygian’s wounds, but they were too great. The Aesir feared his companion was being called to whatever dark god he worshipped’s side. A faint glow was then noticed from the Stygian’s belt. Tullweim pulled the heart of the elephant out, noting the gem seemed brittle and had lost all of it’s crimson color. And to the barbarian’s astonishment the gem crumbled in his hand and blew away with the breeze. Tullweim didn’t know what to make of that event, but when he checked Dhak for signs of life he felt the shallowest of breaths. The barbarian lifted the Stygian’s body over his shoulder and made his attempt to cross the creek. Tullweim’s mighty thews carried both adventurers across the rope safely. Xacksmith followed, though carrying Gault’s staff made the effort more difficult, he was able to cross without falling. Once on the other side the adventurers discussed what to do about the rope. It could not be retrieved without losing time and the party felt they’d lost enough of it to start with. In the end, they left it as they moved further into the Little Wilderness.

Several more miles were trekked and the scraping sound followed still, without a trace the adventurers could find as to what was causing it. The party continued on and came across the body of a slain Hyborian soldier. The soldier bore a leather jerkin and the livery of a courier. The soldier’s scalped crown was undoubtedly the work of Picts, as was the bent sword left on the ground. Cuana picked up the courier’s dispatch bag but found it empty. Xacksmith noticed two scraps of parchment several feet away, presumably dropped by the savages after the attack. The first missive appeared to be an official dispatch which read:

Commander Dirk Strom’s son,

My orderly has learned from Arisawe that Sagoyaga of the Wolf is preparing for war. Schondara is in immediate danger. This will not be a mere raid. The involvement of thousands of Picts is the suggestion we have received. Rouse the rangers and get the people inside the fort. Machk is supposedly brewing up some sort of magic but keep that to yourself. Some of the men actually believe those barbarians can truly speak to spirits. Diviatix does not appear to be among the Ligureans, but word has reached us through a Mitran priest that the druid is returning. Expect reinforcements from Thenitea by the dawn of the second day.

This dispatch is official and sealed.

Odar Thorinn’s son, Commandant of Thenitea

The next scrap of parchment appeared to be a personal letter:

Sir Grim Brock’s son of Aethelsward,

I regret to be the bearer of ill tidings. Your noble patron, Lady Coelia, daughter of Dionysia, has fallen prey to the worst of fates. Convinced she could stop the war lord Sagoyaga and Machk with a certain staff being brought to her from the wilderness, our Lady, with a small armed escort, departed into the Pictish wild lands to meet with the bearer of this supposed holy artefact. I believe it was her intention, thereupon, to go to the Wolf village of Osekowa to trade with Sagoyaga; the staff for the disbanding of his savage army. Her escort was found slain in the most gruesome of methods. Decency forbids me from describing the wholesale slaughter. Our lady was not found among the dead, so she is presumed to either be captured or lost in the wilderness. A ransom is being offered to the Picts for her return, and, of course, a reward posted for her rescue. However, I do not hold out much hope. You have our sympathies and our sorrows for your loss.

Sir Gasparus, son of Gaspar, Knight of the Barrie Grange

The meaning of the undelivered dispatch was obvious to the adventurers. If only the messenger had made it to Schondara, perhaps the slaughter of the province town would not have occurred. Doubtless the town would have still fallen, but at least the soldiers could have gone down alert and fighting instead of scalped in their beds. The personal letter, on the other hand, fueled much discussion within the party. Who was this Lady Coelia? Was the staff mentioned in the letter the one which Gault had entrusted to Cuana with his final breath?

In a nearby tree a dark figure, man-like in form but gnarled and misshapen and covered with thick hair, watched the parties’ exchange. It saw that which it sought and pounced upon the unsuspecting Hyrkanian. Its long, black talons raked across Xacksmith’s chest, rending armor and the flesh underneath. The Hyrkanian howled in pain as he fell unconscious for a second time that day. The chinless, low-browed head seemed to hold a feral grin which was quickly lost when Tullweim, in a red-faced frenzy, brought his greatsword down upon it. The creature swiped at the Aesir but its talons could not pierce the barbarian’s mail. It then tried to flee back into the trees but Tullweim’s sword cleaved through flesh and bone and the creature went heavily to the ground with a strangled cry. Cuana searched Xacksmith’s backpack for the remaining dose of poultice he recently purchased. Once found the Cimmerian tended to the Hyrkanian’s wounds as best he could. Xacksmith was roused, Tullweim once again gathered the Stygian, and the adventurers set upon the trail, heading north in hopes that Gault’s direction was not made in vain by the information gained from the missives.

The adventurers traveled for another hour when the fading light of the day urged they seek shelter. But all that was to be found were more trees. The party quickly decided remaining on the ground would not do. They located two tall, sturdy trees and climbed them. Cuana carried Dhak into one tree while Tullweim and Xacksmith scaled another. The Cimmerian used the rope from his pack to secure the Stygian and found a spot where he could brace his back against the trunk several feet below and hide. The Aesir and Hyrkanian similarly hid and secured themselves. They knew sleeping in the tree like a great cat would not be comfortable, but after the day of fighting and travel with no food in their bellies, sleep’s embrace would have to be comfort enough.

The slightest of movements in the morning air roused Cuana from his slumber. Below he could see a group of Picts with a similar arrangement of feathered ornaments as those which attacked Schondara moving silently through the forest below. One of the Picts had spotted Dhak’s form along the limb. The leader urged two of the other Picts to scale the tree and collect the Stygian. One was taken by surprise by the Cimmerian who wrapped his hands around the Picts throat and squeezed until the savage’s eyes lolled back into his head and his tongue rasped out a death rattle. The other Pict in the tree swung his club at the barbarian but his hauberk took the brunt of the blow. The Picts below began firing into the tree as the noise of battle shook Tullweim from his slumber. The Aesir dropped to the ground and bellowed out a war cry. The Picts then turned their arrows to the Aesir. Though the savages fired rapidly only the leader’s Bossonian longbow managed to bite flesh. Once Tullweim was upon them, not club nor hatchet kept him from shearing their skulls like ripe melons. Cuana had difficulty wielding his greatsword in the tree but the Cimmerian kept his back to the trunk to maintain his balance and as quickly as the fight had begun it was ended.

The adventurers were badly hurt but they dared not wait. They knew the forest hid more Picts who sought their scalps and they would not find rest unless they could locate a settlement of civilized people. And so, Cuana gathered Dhak and the party once again set upon the trail north.

flatscan

04-26-2009, 05:44 PM

Chapter 10 Session 3

The Captive Settlers

Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith picked up hatchets and bows from the fallen Pict bodies. The weapons were of poor quality compared to what the adventurers had gotten used to carrying, but as the times were desperate the adventurers decided to make due. The Aesir lifted Dhak over his shoulder and carried him as the travelers pressed north. The lack of food the past day increased the difficulty of travel for the Hyrkanian, though the two barbarians seemed as if they could continue with empty bellies for days. The adventurers stopped near a creek to forage whatever they could find. Xacksmith stayed close to the Stygian and found dark red berries which looked safe to eat, though they tasted bitter. Cuana traveled east searching for game while Tullweim located animal tracks closer to the creek. The Aesir stopped in mid-stride as the creek came into view. Following the water was a group of 7 Picts leading 4 captive settlers, 3 women and 1 boy. Tullweim called out a curse at the Picts to get their attention. Arrows flew in response and though most bounced off the Aesir’s mail, Tullweim knew he was in no condition to fight the savages alone. The barbarian fled back to his companions shouting out a warning of what followed.

Xacksmith grabbed the hunting bow taken from a fallen Pict earlier and moved towards the Aesir, firing a bolt straight through a Pict. Once Tullweim saw the Hyrkanian was near he turned to face the savages. The Picts fired many shots but only the pack-leaders arrow slowed the indomitable barbarian. Tullweim slashed at the Picts pack leader as Xacksmith shot another. 2 of the Picts fired 4 arrows at Xacksmith which dropped the Hyrkanian bleeding to the ground. Tullweim fought two of the Picts as Cuana arrived. The Cimmerian’s greatsword lashed down, splitting the club-wielding savages skull and with a backswing, cleaved into the pack-leader, spattering blood and brains on the forest floor. Together, the two barbarians brought a brutal end to the savages. Cuana then tended to the Hyrkanian, announcing his healer’s kit would be empty woefully soon.

Tullweim returned to the creek as the Cimmerian revived Xacksmith. Though the settler women stood just as the Picts had left them, the boy, not more than 14 winters old, shuffled aimlessly along the water’s edge. The Aesir quickly gathered the boy and the women but saw no sign of the Pict the others had left behind. He kept a wary eye out as he spoke to the settlers, though they did not respond. Tullweim guessed their wits lost by the horror of the past days and being taken captive. The Aesir herded the boy, matronly woman in her middle years and the two young girls, one scant few years older than the boy, back to his companions. When Tullweim returned, he gathered the Stygian and the adventurers continued north, their pace considerably slowed.

Scant miles were made when the day’s light began fading. Xacksmith stayed with Dhak and the settlers as Cuana and Tullweim hunted for game. The Cimmerian discovered a small group of boars, a mother and her piglets. The boar charged Cuana but fell quickly to the barbarian’s blade. The Cimmerian then prepared the meat and a fire was braved to cook it. The 4 settlers had to be forced fed, but after the taste of fresh meat hit their palate they began chewing slowly, their faces cast with a far-off manner. After the meal the settlers were made as comfortable as they could be in the middle of a hostile wilderness. Night watches were split up with the Hyrkanian taking the first hours.

It was not long after his companions fell to sleep that Xacksmith turned and noticed one of the settler women was missing from the camp. The Hyrkanian bounded up and shouted an alarm. With the dying lights of the fire Xacksmith discovered light tracks moving off into the forest. Not far from the camp stood the young woman, standing alone in the dark of the forest like a specter. The Hyrkanian looks for any sign of Picts just as a hatchet struck him from his flank. Xacksmith responded with a blow from the curious staff he’d been carrying as Tullweim and Cuana clambered near. The struggle was vicious but brief as the Hyrkanian drove the staff’s point into the savage’s body and with a final convulsive shudder the Pict stiffened, falling limp.

Terrors in the Night, Horror on the Morrow

Xacksmith slumbered through the wilderness in a dream of vivid detail. The Hyrkanian saw a village in Pictland, not more than a few miles from Thunder River. In the village Xacksmith witnessed a shaman, wild panthers and a beautiful Aquilonian girl of noble birth. A shadowy figure hovered near her, a white skull painted upon his powerful chest. Soon a fantastic chase through the forests began. Screaming Picts ready for the kill move with murderous intent and the whole dream is overcast by a sense of ominous dread. The Hyrkanian felt if the girl was not rescued the entire Westermarck would fall. Xacksmith awoke with a start and noticed everyone else in the camp slept restlessly as well. As they rose from their slumber the Hyrkanian related his dream to Cuana and Tullweim. Xacksmith soon learned he was not alone with troubling dreams throughout the night. As they prepared for the days journey the Stygian moaned.

Dhak was helped to his feet by Tullweim and quickly told of the events since the alligator in the creek. The Stygian had no further insight to add, contemplating a moment on Yag-Kosha’s words outside Tarantia. The adventurers quickly broke camp and continued north. Night changed into a brisk morning and the travelers came to a farming settlement. Vultures circled overhead from a distance over a small house with a connecting barn. As the companions stepped off the trail into the clearing around the house they were assaulted by a scorching, blasting wind. Other than the sound of the hot wind the morning was unnaturally quiet. The vultures above were the only living animals, all others in sight, chickens, ducks, dogs, cattle, a pair of draft horses, rabbits and other vultures laid dead. All the crops surrounding the farm were withered and destroyed.

Dhak and Xacksmith looked through a window in the farmhouse and saw a man hanging from a rough rafter. The Hyrkanian triggered the crude lock on the door and entered the house with the Stygian as the barbarians waited with the settlers outside. Inside the house Dhak and Xacksmith viewed a gruesome sight. The settler’s wife laid in bed, black and shriveled. Her stomach showed she was pregnant when she died. The Stygian cut the rope bound around the male settler’s throat. Dhak spoke arcane words of necromancy and the man’s face animated with life. The dead settler gasped and wailed as he saw his wife’s black form on the bed. The Stygian pressed the corpse for answers and was told only that his wife grew sick with a terrible speed. She died an hour after purple blotches formed on her body and shriveled in a grotesque manner. The settler’s corpse wailed uncontrollably and the Stygian ended his sorcery, returning the house to the stillness of a grave.

The Hyrkanian and Stygian searched the house for supplies, gathering clothing and moccasins for the settlers they traveled with. Dhak searched the cupboards and discovered a clay pot holding an herbal poultice. Outside, Cuana discovered a sharp axe and well-made Bossonian longbow along with arrows. Tullweim was keeping his eye on the surrounding forest when he heard a thud nearby. The Aesir rushed to where he thought the sound had come from and found the teenage boy’s form on the ground. The boy’s flesh was a deep purple and his skin shriveled and blackened before the barbarian’s eyes. Tullweim called out to his companions who rushed to the barbarian’s side. The Stygian suspected foul sorcery was the cause when Dhak too felt a strange miasma overcome him. Xacksmith saw purple splotches begin to cover the Stygian’s skin. The Aesir and Cimmerian quickly moved the three women towards the northern ring of the forest as Xacksmith aided Dhak, who wheezed and coughed with the effort of moving, leaving the boy’s body alone in the wind blasted field.

The unnaturally hot wind continued to blow, and dead wildlife could be seen with greater frequency in the forest. Dhak took a moment to compose himself, then remembered the clay pot taken from the farmhouse. Not certain, but guessing the herbs inside the poultice would aid healing, he lathered his wounds and purple blotches with it. The effect was instantly noticeable as the blotches began to fade, though the Stygian’s constitution was weakened. The other adventurers quickly treated their wounds then continued north, hoping to move past the blasted winds and the plague it brought with it. Other settlements were past with similar situations as the first. Neither man nor animal were safe. Eventually the adventurers came to a clearing in the fading light where the air felt still. They decided to make camp there, repeating their hunt for game and watch rotation. That night brought more unsettling dreams of the Pictish village. Though this time, the dream was accompanied by blasphemous whispers and moans departing dark secrets no man can safely know without jeopardizing his immortal soul. Fortune smiled on the Hyrkanian, as he once again awoke shaken but thanked his gods the dream had done him no harm. Though he knew he could not escape the task the vision had given him. The noble lady had to be rescued.

Crossing the Thunder River

Xacksmith spoke of his dreams and what he thought they meant to his companions. Their own troubled dreams along with the past days horror led them to agree with the Hyrkanian’s instinct to cross the river which separated the Little Wilderness from Pictland. Cuana used the axe he found to break up some fallen trees and felled several on his own. Tullweim cleared the branches from the trunks and Dhak and Xacksmith cringed at the racket the barbarians made. As such, the Stygian and Hyrkanian were unsurprised when arrows began to fall from the wilderness. Dhak took up the Bossonian longbow and returned fire, though he felt the heavy balance of the bow cumbersome. Xacksmith assisted by firing his hunting bow and calling for aid from the barbarians. One of the Picts was wounded badly and withdrew from the combat. Tullweim rushed to his companions side as Cuana scaled a tree and urged his comrades to draw the Picts out. The Hyrkanian and Stygian were forced to fall back to cover from the savages arrows and Tullweim stepped in front of them. The Picts then rushed forward with hatchets and clubs. The Aesir took some glancing blows as did the Hyrkanian and Stygian. Cuana dropped on a Pict from above, skewering the savage to the ground below. Several more bloody blows were exchanged and the three remaining Picts fled the battlefield.

The two barbarians doubled their efforts at constructing a raft knowing the Picts would soon return in greater numbers. They pushed the crude raft held together with tree vines out into the water and braved to step upon it. The Stygian sounded his uneasiness at stepping foot on the raft when more arrows fell upon them. The settler women were quickly carried to the float and Cuana used a tree branch as an oar. The river’s waters buffeted them along but the Cimmerian was able to keep his coarse. Arrows continued to fall and one struck the teenage girl in her side. Tullweim shielded the girl, calling for everyone else to lay prone. Cuana remained standing and with one last push brought the raft to the shore just as the vines holding it together broke loose.

flatscan

05-14-2009, 07:45 AM

Chapter 10 Session 4

The Pictish Wilderness

Dhak, Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith dodged arrows as they carried the settler women off the breaking-apart raft onto the shore of Pictland. On the opposite bank a group of 13 savages fired as the adventurers fled behind the cover of trees. The Stygian stopped a moment to pull an arrow out of the young settler woman who cried out in agony. The matronly settler broke the daze she’d been in for days past and doted over the hurt woman as Dhak wrapped scraps of cloth around the wound. Cuana lifted up the young woman and all but Tullweim pushed further into the Pictish wilderness. The Aesir followed behind, pausing every few minutes of travel. Trying, desperately to conceal their trail as much as possible. At one of these stops Tullweim saw what looked like deliberate puffs of smoke from the opposite shore. The Aesir was certain the smoke was some sort of signal meant to alert the Picts on the same side of Thunder River the adventurers were on.

As the party moved through the wilderness Xacksmith stopped mid-step. The paths of trees seemed oddly familiar to the Hyrkanian and he realized he had been to this place before. Xacksmith informed the others that he knew where a Pictish village was. The Hyrkanian led the travelers to a barely noticeable path used by the Picts. The borderer and 2 barbarians determined that a massive group of savages had walked the trail towards the river a few days past. The adventurers surmised these were some of the same Picts who had attacked Schondara. Xacksmith blazed a trail, no civilized man could see, for several miles through the winding forest and whispered of the Picts village in his dreams.

Near a bend in the path Xacksmith was taken by surprise by a lone Pict who bull rushed into him. The Pict slammed into the Hyrkanian who planted his feet firmly in the ground and resisted the savages effort to push him into the bushes behind. Xacksmith plunged the point of the strange staff he carried through the savages gut as arrows flew from the trees. Tullweim shielded the women as best he could as Cuana and Dhak searched for targets. The Picts were too well concealed in the forest and the adventurers had to leave the trail to meet the savages in melee. A quick battle was had as Dhak sent sorcerous torment to the Picts pack chief while Cuana cleaved into the savages. After the skirmish the adventurers noted the Picts had different feathers on their head and ornamentation around their necks then the ones they'd encountered in Schondara and in the Little Wilderness.

Niyohontehsha of the Wildcats

As the daylight hours faded the adventurers came to an opening in the forest where they saw a large, labyrinthine, fortified Pict village comprised of many daub and- wattle huts with thatched roofs. The village was surrounded by a palisade and a ditch. Outside the palisade was a small hut on columns over-looking the nearby fields and graveyard. The adventurers could see smoke coming from several fires in the middle of the village. When Dhak asked of Xacksmith if this was the village from his dreams, the Hyrkanian nodded in assent. The Stygian suggested he and Xacksmith move through the fields stealthily to take out the likely guard in the hut on columns. The Hyrkanian acted odd at the Stygian’s plan of action, stating he would not leave the staff he’d been carrying behind. Tullweim then said, “If it’s the staff they want, why do we not just give it to them…or at least appear as if we are trading it for their captives?” Dhak thought the idea ludicrous. The Stygian argued the Picts would likely attack the adventurers on sight as the Aesir tore branches to make a hiding spot for the 3 settler women to hide. Tullweim stressed his concern for Lady Coelia as the wind carried the sound of a man’s tortured scream. The Aesir sprang forward and with him the Cimmerian and Hyrkanian. Dhak cursed and moved into the nearby fields with his Bossonian longbow.

It was not long before the Pict in the raised hut summoned the guard to the bridge. The smoke signs the savages had seen from their brothers across Thunder River told of these adventurers. And the Picts sent to meet them had not come back. Wanenaka of the Wolves led his pack to the lone entrance into Niyohontehsha to greet the invaders while the Wildcats strange drums continued to pound. Wanenaka faced off with Cuana, Tullweim and Xacksmith who held the staff with the leaf growing out of it. The Cimmerian spoke Pictish to Wanenaka saying, “Hey assholes, we want to see Machk.”Angered and about to attack, the war chief was stopped by Baraccus who had gone renegade. The ranger asked why he shouldn’t tell Wanenaka and his 20 men to scalp the adventurers and tie them up to the columns inside the village. Tullweim nudged Cuana to speak of the staff Lady Coelia wished to give to Sagoyaga and the parties’ willingness to exchange it for the Picts’ captives. Baraccus laughed and said Lady Coelia was to wed Wanenaka but that the adventurers would be seeing the other captives soon. The renegade then asked where the Stygian who sapped him of his wits in Schondara was. Baraccus would have been scalped if the Picts who found him hadn’t seen his tattoo and brought him to the Wildcats. Dhak responded by rising from his hiding spot in the nearby field and loosed an arrow at the renegade. All hell broke loose as Wanenaka called for his pack to attack and covered an incredible amount of distance as he charged Xacksmith. The Hyrkanian dodged the first vicious swing of Wanenaka’s club but the second caught Xacksmith across the chin. 7 of the picts fired arrows at the barbarians though Cuana dodged most and Tullweim’s armor and incredible fortitude blocked all pain from the stone-tipped arrows.

The Cimmerian went into a fighting madness and delivered two vicious blows to Wanenaka. 2 Picts, pack chiefs by their feathered adornments, whooped and charged Cuana and Tullweim. Both overran the Cimmerian and Nordheimer and knocked them to the ground. Many more Picts surrounded the prone barbarians, their hatchets and clubs ready to draw blood and hack bone. Dhak fired into the melee, wounding the Picts war chief. The Hyrkanian took a step back and swung his staff at Wanenaka. The heavily wounded Pict leader attempted to withdraw but the battle enraged Aesir slashed out with his greatsword and lopped the war chiefs legs out from under him. The Picts armed with bows sent another volley of arrows aimed at Xacksmith who dodged most of the bolts. Baraccus then engaged the Hyrkanian with his axe, slashing through Xacksmith’s jerkin. The culmination of the Hyrkanian’s wounds drove him to unconsciousness. The savages surrounding Cuana and Tullweim brought their weapons down with powerful blows, bashing and bruising the barbarians. The Cimmerian fought to stand up, which opened him to more attacks from the 5 Picts around him. Though he was bloodied, the enraged barbarian had strength enough to slice a Pict in twain. Cuana followed the attack by cleaving through the 4 others surrounding him.

Tullweim struggled to fight from his prone position, but managed to drop another Pict. Dhak sent more arrows into the melee as Baraccus engaged the Cimmerian. The ranger attempted to trip Cuana but the barbarian’s mighty thews proved immovable and the renegade was forced to drop his axe and flee. Cuana quickly ran after the renegade but was met by a group of 6 Picts who rapidly fired 12 arrows at the barbarian. Though much of the lethality of the bolts was avoided by the Cimmerian’s armor, the accumulated bruises dropped Cuana mercilessly to the ground, alive but unconscious. The Aesir finished the last of the Picts in melee with him and rushed forward to those who’d felled the Cimmerian with a leaping charge. The Picts did not long stand against the Aesir barbarian’s fighting madness and rapidly fired missiles from the Stygian’s Bossonian longbow. 4 Picts fell, 2 fled into the village, and only the lone savage in the watcher’s hut remained. The Aesir quickly scaled the side of the hut and stared down the Pict within, noting the 3 eagle feathers, 2 upright and the third tilted downward that adorned the Pict. Knowing full well how badly out-matched he was the savage leapt out the hut’s window and made for the village. Tullweim grabbed a hatchet from the hut’s floor and with a roar sent the hatchet hurtling at the fleeing Pict. Though the hatchet caught the savage in the back and was followed by an arrow from the Stygian, the Pict was able to reach the village.

Dhak and Tullweim quickly roused their companions. All knew they would face further obstacles from within the Picts walls. The Hyrkanian and Stygian moved silently as shadows past the bridge. Xacksmith was again struck with a feeling of familiarity at the daub and wattle huts. The borderer bade the Stygian follow him along the wall, where the Hyrkanian hoped they would evade the sight from whatever pagan ceremony was being performed at the heart of the village. The Aesir and Cimmerian walked into the village with no attempt at stealth. Tulleim was beset upon by a beast which sprang from the shadows. Human-like in height, the creature had teeth and claws which could rend metal, and a coarse coat of fur like that of a panther. The beast-man’s teeth ripped into the Aesir’s mail and flesh. Tullweim pushed the creature off of him and his eyes glowered furiously as he swung his greatsword with murderous intent. Though the creatures hide soaked some of the damage it was quickly felled under the crimson mist of the Aesir’s rage and the Cimmerian’s powerful greatsword attacks. The 2 companions rushed forward to the source of the pounding drums at the center of the village.

Tied to two ceremonial posts carved to resemble hooded women were two living Aquilonian males. Three dead captives were also tied to similar posts. Many Picts, mainly women and children, were gathered around the central ceremonial area where they sung and danced wildly. The captives had seen better days, having spent much of the day already being tortured, they were missing fingers, had smashed teeth, severe lacerations and both were missing eyes. The Picts wore paint on their back and feathered adornments which indicated they were from a different tribe than Wanenaka’s Wolves. Around the ceremonial posts the Picts danced and sang in a primal, unnerving manner. A trio of male drummers pounded away on gorgeously crafted drums. The shaman, replete with feathers from many birds and a gruesome forest devil mask, danced in front of the captives, making the strangest movements the adventurers ever had seen. Suddenly one of the Aquilonian prisoners bones seemed to snap as his body contorted into a bestial shape, his face elongated to form a snout, and his hands painfully grew into claws. With a roar the beast broke free of its restraints as the Pict shaman pointed at the adventurers and screamed for their scalps.

flatscan

06-01-2009, 03:31 PM

Chapter 10 Session 5

Warrior’s Retribution

Cuana and Tullweim both swore as they witnessed the awful change of one of the captive settlers into another panther-like abomination. Though the rite turned their stomachs to watch it did not quell Tullweim’s fury as he roared out a challenge. The were-panther snarled menacingly, snapped its bonds and leapt at the Aesir. The foul beasts teeth and claws ripped through Tullweim’s armor and lacerated the flesh beneath. The indomitable Nordheimer responded with 2 mighty swings of his greatsword, deeply wounding the creature which but moments ago was a man. Cuana followed the Aesir’s attack with a powerful assault of his own, splitting the top of the creatures head from its jaw in a swath of bright crimson. Amidst the scene of carnage, the Pict women and children continued to dance as the shaman intoned with an ominous cadence.

Meanwhile, Dhak and Xacksmith made their way along the inside of the wooden wall which defended the Pict village of Niyohontehsha. The two adventurers heard the fierce pitch of the battle as it raged at the center of the village and the Stygian had grown impatient. Dhak did not like not having a precise plan for rescuing a phantom woman from the Hyrkanian’s dreams. Xacksmith had his doubts as well but as they turned a corner the Hyrkanian was struck with familiarity at the daub-and-wattle huts which surrounded him. Xacksmith rushed towards a particular hut of grim aspect. The feathers, animal skulls, and scalps did not give the Hyrkanian pause as he flung open the hide-door covering. Inside the hut a beautiful women with lustrous hair, which fell in waves past a warm face, sat reposed on a mattress of animal pelts, surrounded by skulls and other grisly relics of former prisoners. The woman’s bright hazel eyes and full, soft lips showed alarm as from within the hut another were-panther pounced at the Hyrkanian. It was but chance which caused the creatures claw to snare the door covering instead of Xacksmith’s face.

The Hyrkanian lunged desperately at the were-panther with the curious staff he carried, driving the point into the beasts gut. The maddened creature raked its claws against Xacksmith, ripped through his leather armor and sent him unconscious to the ground. Dhak spoke arcane words of entrancement on the were-panther, who charged the Stygian, moving from hind legs to all four with great alacrity. The sorcerer’s words took hold of the creature just as it reached the Stygian, it’s clawed hand raised in an attack stopped unnaturally by Dhak’s will. The Stygian concentrated deeply to maintain his hypnotism of the creature as the young woman braved to move out of her prison. She looked down sorrowfully at Xacksmith and noticed the staff which lay beside him. Dhak called out to her to take the staff and deliver a coup de grace to the beast. At first frightened by the prospect, the woman watched as the creature stood menacingly not 5 feet from the Stygian and collected the staff. She moved near Dhak who urged the woman to strike quickly. The women held the shaft of the staff and struck the point into the creatures throat. Dhak’s sorcery was broken and the aberrant beast thrashed about as the young woman drove the staff deeper into the creatures gullet.

At the center of the village, the 3 Wolf Picts who had fled the combat at the village gate fired their bows at the 2 northern barbarians. Though Cuana’s armor prevented the arrows from doing any lasting harm he almost blacked out from the collection of bruises he’d acquired. The Cimmerian fought past the pain and dizziness, brought his greatsword down on one of his attackers and with a backswing wounded another who fled the combat, holding his torn side. Baraccus rushed at Tullweim, using his axe to attempt to trip the Aesir. But the mountain of a man proved immovable and the renegade ranger dropped his axe rather than be tripped in return. Tullweim then brought his greatsword down on the renegade, splintering bone and sinew. As Baraccus fell the Aesir plunged his sword through the renegade’s gut. A heavily adorned male Wildcat Pict led the 3 Picts who had been drumming for the ceremony into battle. The savages swarmed around Tullweim, delivering blow after blow from their hatchets and clubs. The masked shaman plunged a dagger through the only remaining prisoner tied to a ceremonial post as the battle raged. The feathered devil then shouted a great curse at the Aesir which caused Tullweim’s strikes to miss his target. Cuana rushed to the Aesir’s side and the savage Picts were witness to the unbridled wrath of the Cimmerian barbarian. Cuana’s greatsword tore the Wildcat chief asunder as brains, bones, and blood littered the field. The Picts who had been at the chief’s side quickly fled as the 2 barbarians heard their Stygian ally call for fleetness of foot. Tullweim moved towards the village gate but he could no longer sustain his crimson rage. Without the fury driving him the Aesir succumbed to his wounds and fell, motionless, to the ground. The Cimmerian saw this, sheathed his greatsword, and lifted his companion over his shoulder with hope that fate would see the Aesir rise to fight another day.

But the masked shaman was not yet done. The guttural chanting of the Pict shaman reached a crescendo as he angrily sent his mystical call of command to the surrounding forest. As the adventurers met up near Niyohontehsha’s front gate they were chilled to see a huge pale shape slither out of the black woods. Cuana cried out for everyone to run and the party had a slight advantage due to the creature coming from the forest behind the village’s palisade. The noblewoman almost lost her nerve but Dhak was able to keep her focused with helping him carry Xacksmith. The adventurers were almost to the edge of the forest and the Cimmerian braved a look behind to see the form of a monstrous Ghost Snake, glowing palely in the moonlight. Cuana called out to the 3 settler women the party had left hidden, ordered them to run and not look behind. Though they’d managed to keep some distance from the creature, it was a mile trek back to Thunder River. The Ghost Snake had caught up to Cuana and lunged at the Cimmerian, who even carrying the Aesir was able to narrowly dodge the beast. The barbarian was able to gain some ground after the attack as Dhak, carrying Xacksmith with the aid of the noblewoman, came to the bank of Thunder River. Fortune was with them as 3 canoes were beached nearby. But the adventurers passage did not go unnoticed. Several Picts fired arrows at the party as they moved towards the canoes. The Cimmerian then barreled through the savages and behind him struck the massive serpent. Not aware that a shaman had summoned the creature the Picts panicked and some attacked the Ghost Snake as the adventurers rowed out into the river. The creature immediately fell upon the hapless savages and their screams rang out across the wide, open river as they fell prey to the demonic thing sent after the party by their own chieftain.

The adventurers stopped briefly on the opposite shore. Cuana used a length of rope to tie the 3 canoes together as Dhak tended to Xacksmith’s wounds. Within moments the Hyrkanian was roused and the canoes were launched back into the river. The Cimmerian and Hyrkanian rowed the 2 canoes flanking the one Dhak was in. Both the Stygian and Hyrkanian’s cat-like eyes were able to use the moonlight to direct their passage. Though physically exhausted the adventurers rowed until the morning light shown. Then, in early dawn, they made towards the shore and moved the canoes out of the water and behind the cover of trees. The adventurers attempted to conceal their camp as much as possible and set up a watch to rest. It was then the noblewomen was questioned. She introduced herself as Lady Coelia, the very noble written of in the waylaid missives the adventurers had discovered several days earlier. The noblewoman told her tale of involvement with the staff. She had long been interested in the Picts and was told of some great destiny concerning them. She knew little of the strange staff Gault had entrusted with the adventures other than that it was called the Staff of Dekanawidah and Sagoyaga desperately sought it. The noblewomen helped as she could with the 3 settler women who finally seemed to have enough sense amongst them to relate who they were. It seemed they were the 3 settler women which Baraccus had kidnapped. The renegade ranger and his henchmen had traveled to Schondara with the intent of crossing the Thunder River and giving the women to the Wildcat tribe. But the Wolf Picts attack on the frontier town changed all that. The adventurers then rested for many hours. When early evening arrived the Aesir roused from unconsciousness. The party packed up and once again traveled on the Thunder River by moonlight.

Several nights passed with the adventurers similarly stopping at dawn and continuing their trek to the Oriskonie province at dusk. Several fires in the distance on the settlers side of the great river showed the Westermarck was still besieged but the party was able to avoid any Picts crossing the river. Though they rowed against the current, the Aesir and Cimmerian’s legendary strength and endurance were able to keep a steady pace. After a week and a half of such activity they finally arrived at the Oriskonie province. Though Pict attacks occurred in the settler province they had not yet become as brash and wanton as the attack on Schondara. The adventurers were able to locate Fuldonus and bring the 3 settler women to him. The Bossonian thanked the party and ensured the governor gave the reward promised. In addition, Lady Coelia was taken in by the governor and the party enjoyed no small amount of coin for the noblewoman’s rescue as well. Given the continued attacks on the Westermarck, Lady Coelia was successful in convincing the adventurers to stay and aid the settlers in pushing back the savages onslaught.

flatscan

07-09-2009, 07:50 AM

The Caravan to Oriskonie

It had been 6 weeks since the War of the Wolf began and the Westermarck burned. The Picts rampaged through Schohira. Thandara was harried extensively by the Otter and Alligator tribes. Conawaga was under siege. Plagues disrupted the settlers and the cities were quickly evacuated. Aquilonia sent in more troops, which resulted in Nemedian opportunists testing the flower of the West’s strength. A bounty for Picts was put into effect to bolster support against the savages seemingly unstoppable advances. One silver coin of the realm for each Pict head or scalp brought in. Large bounties were posted for Sagoyaga (1,000 sp), Machk (500 sp) and Dji’ionondo (200 sp). Bounty hunters from across the Thurian continent arrived to try their hand at capturing Sagoyaga and his followers. An Aquilonian knight, Sir Gasparus, son of Gaspar, arrived with his troops and asked for volunteers and scouts to bring in Picts. In between slaying savages Cuana, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith had found much work escorting caravans between what remained of settlements. Their most recent job was escorting a caravan of supplies from Conawaga to the Oriskonie province. The adventurers hoped to make as quick progress as possible as a carrier bird delivered word that Lady Coelia had gained knowledge about the curious Staff of Dekanawidah and needed the parties’ help.

The caravan consisted of 5 wagons pulled by 10 horses. There were 4 mounted mercenaries, and 2 rangers guarding the convoy as well as the adventurers. Late in the afternoon Cuana called attention to the unnaturally silent forest. The Cimmerian told one of the soldiers to spread the word to the others an attack was coming. The soldier was at first annoyed at the foreigner’s orders, but realized the likely truth in Cuana’s words with the unusual stillness in the air and moved to alert the others. The soldier had just turned to the 2nd wagon when an arrow impaled the mercenary. The sky darkened by the stone-tipped bolts that came from the surrounding forest like a swarm of deadly insects followed by the ominous beating of drums. Man and horse alike were hit and the mercenaries dove for cover. A large group of snarling wolves burst forth from the forest biting the caravan guards. Cuana’s greatsword spilled the guts of several of the beasts and the Cimmerian made for the trees to hunt for Pict scalps. Dhak, Xacksmith and one of the mercenaries defended the caravan from the attacking wolves. An arrow through the neck killed the closest mercenary and the feral beasts crowded the Hyrkanian, biting and dragging him to the ground. Tullweim aided Xacksmith, clumsily swinging a bardiche, and cleared a wolf off the borderer with a final yelp.

Cuana reached a group of Picts, and one savage slammed into the barbarian, knocking him to the forest floor. Several Picts surrounded the Cimmerian and rained down powerful blows with their hatchets and clubs. Cuana bellowed out in rage, forced his way back up taking glancing strikes for his efforts, and cleaved into 5 of the savages, ending their miserable lives in scant seconds. Tullweim rushed into the woods after the Cimmerian as Dhak wove necromantic rites which breathed ‘life’ into 5 of the dead wolves. Several of the caravan wagon drivers and horses panicked at the blasphemous, shambling creatures and the caravan line was broken as the horses led their wagons in different directions, one almost crushing Dhak in the process. Annoyed but otherwise unharmed due to his quick reflexes, the Stygian sent the dead wolves straight at the Picts. Between the slaughter of almost an entire pack and the terror of the dead brought back to life the savages resolve melted away and they hastily abandoned their attack. The convoy was quickly put back into order. Scalps and the dead mercenaries were collected and the group pressed on for the Oriskonie province.

They reached the tent settlement of refugees built upon the ruins of a former proper settlement in the last rays of daylight. Sir Gasparus had put his forces to good use pushing back the Picts from the area and was using the still serviceable buildings as a command center. Their was much commotion as the caravan meandered into the settlement. Many refugees cheered as several of the soldiers began distributing goods from the caravan. Fearful whispers were exchanged among the caravan drivers and soldiers of besieged Conawaga. The adventurers were told to meet Sir Gasparus in the still-standing inn. As they traveled Cuana heard a womans voice call out his name. The Cimmerian turned to see Hema, the young woman the party had rescued from Baraccus’ botched attempt at trading women to the Wildcat Picts, pushing through the crowd to meet him. Hema flashed a warm smile and caught the barbarian in an embrace, intimating her fear of Cuana finding a mean end in the wilderness. The Cimmerian assured her he was fine despite her noticing his wounds from the earlier battle. Hema invited Cuana to her tent so she could tend to him and make him a fitting meal. The Cimmerian smiled and told his companions they would have to deal with Gasparus and Lady Coelia without him. Tullweim chuckled at his friends’ leaving and the adventurers moved into the inn.

It was obvious the Aquilonian military had commandeered the Shrieking Owl inn as an officer’s barracks as the only non-soldier in the common room was Lady Coelia who sat at a table with a knight in a mail shirt and breastplate. The young noblewoman warmly greeted the adventurers and noted their wounds. Dhak spoke of the skirmish with the Picts in the woods which attacked the caravan but was pushed back and Tullweim plopped the collection of scalps on the table towards Sir Gasparus. The nobleman arched an eyebrow and said he would have his accountant make note. Gasparus then inquired as to the scalp Tullweim had hanging off his armor and was surprised to hear it was taken from the head of Wanenaka, the Pict who had led the slaughter of Schondara. Gasparus offered 200 silver for the scalp but Tullweim declined stating it was a personal trophy of his recent exploits. Lady Coelia quickly ordered food and drink for the party as Gasparus related his own tales of victories over the belligerent Wolf Picts in Oriskonie. Indeed the knight appeared to be highly regarded by his fellows as his cup was never empty at their expense. Whether it was done out of thanks for Gasparus’ exploits or out of boot-licking to a knight with a reputation for cruelty was not known to the adventurers.

Once the food and drink arrived, Lady Coelia began her tale of what needed to be done with the Staff of Dekanawidah. She spoke of the curious staff needing to be taken to the great Ligurean grove of Nuadwyddon in order to be attuned and ‘awakened’. To that end, the adventurers were asked to accompany herself and Sir Gasparus and retainers to Nuadwyddon. The young noblewoman also noted they would be led by a Pictish guide Sir Gasparus had found, called Arisawe. The female Pict knew where the holy grove was located and could lead the retinue through the trackless wilderness. In the middle of Lady Coelia’s instructions Sir Gasparus’ squire Dion hastily interrupted. Gasparus back-handed the boy for his insolence and Dion apologized to the young noblewoman profusely. The young squire then stammered out that Arisawe required Gasparus’ presence. The knight sneered out a comment about the Pict slut probably wanting more Bossonian whiskey. Gasparus ordered the squire to follow him as his armor was due for maintenance before the morrow’s travel. After they left Lady Coelia was heartened to hear the adventurers eagerness to aid her in awakening the staff. The meal was finished as Cuana arrived, looking as if he had exerted as much energy having dinner with Hema as he had fighting Picts, and Lady Coelia retired to her room. The party was told they could sleep in the common room of the Shrieking Owl and preparations were made for a much needed rest.

Back into the Wilderness

The next morning the adventurers woke early to prepare for their journey. Cuana left the others to inform Hema that he was leaving. The young woman was surprised but the Cimmerian assured her of his return. Cuana stressed the importance of the mission he was taking and Hema nodded in understanding. The young woman then ran inside her tent and grabbed a purple slip of silk, one of her few remaining possessions and wrapped it around the Cimmerian’s neck for luck. Touched by the gesture, Cuana grabbed his coin pouch and pressed half his money into Hema’s hand with instructions to take her sister and flee north if the Picts attacked the settlement again. Hema was fighting back tears as the Cimmerian embraced her for a moment then took his leave.

The adventurers at the Shrieking Owl had packed their supplies while Sir Gasparus barked orders to his retainers. Dion escorted the Pict guide down the stairs. The woman was beautiful by any man’s standards. She wore little other than a beaver pelt loincloth and moccasins adorned with various beaded patterns. The Picts upper body was covered only by evocative designs of blue body paint. Tullweim and Dhak exchanged looks as Cuana returned. The Stygian noted the silk the barbarian wore and the Aesir chuckled. The Cimmerian ignored them as Gasparus ordered the company to depart. Lady Coelia carried the strange staff and Dhak helped her onto her horse. Sir Gasparus mounted his beast and the retainers lifted their heavy packs. The procession traveled out of the refugee settlement without much fanfare. They traveled northwest for most of the day, crossing Thunder river at a shallow point, and made camp before nightfall deep in Pictland.

No fire was braved and cold rations were eaten by the travelers. Cuana and Tullweim furrowed their brows disapprovingly at the abuse Gasparus heaped upon his squire and retainers, though they took no action to stop it. After a somber meal the camp prepared for the night’s rest. Watches were divided up with Tullweim taking the first and Xacksmith the last. As they began to sleep the Aesir noted Arisawe eying a jug strapped to Gasparus’ horse. Tullweim looked the Pict up and down with a smile and Arisawe returned the appreciative gaze. The Picts eyes burned with a fire and passion no woman in a civilized country could match and Tullweim felt the minutes of his watch pass at a glacial crawl. But pass they did and it was with a great relish the Aesir nudged Cuana awake for his watch. As the Cimmerian propped himself up against a tree, Tullweim moved to Gasparus’ horse and grabbed the jug. The Aesir popped it open and took in the heady scent of Bossonian whiskey. He wet his lips with the strong liquor then passed the jug to Arisawe whose hand lingered upon his for a moment. The Pict woman then threw back her head and downed the liquor with a voracious thirst like a man in the desert downs water. Arisawe then set the jug down as her eyes devoured the Aesir. She sidled up beside him and pressed her lips to his. Tullweim was a bit surprised to discover she still had the whiskey in her mouth and was sharing it with him. Cuana shook his head as he saw the Pict woman lead the Aesir into the dark of the forest and the sounds of their passion made its way back to the camp.

The camp was awakened by a scream of pain from the Hyrkanian. An arrow had been shot from the trees and pierced Xacksmith’s leather armor biting deep into flesh. The adventurers were up in an instant and searching for attackers. More arrows were fired into the camp and Cuana and Tullweim rushed to meet their assailants. The Cimmerian caught sight of a savage and tore into him with his greatsword. The Aesir was overrun by another and the Picts followed the attack in a predictable manner. Cuana slashed another Pict allowing Tullweim room to get back to his feet. The Aesir did and then his bardiche found purchase in a savages side. Closer to the camp Gasparus and his squire Dion rushed into the forest as Dhak and Xacksmith readied their bows should any targets present themselves. A painful cry was heard from behind the trees and then the Picts fled the scene. Cuana and Tullweim rushed to where they’d heard the sound come from and found Gasparus on the ground. The knight shouted that the Picts had overpowered him and taken his squire before they fled.

flatscan

09-20-2009, 11:34 AM

The Decision is Made

Sir Gasparus was in a foul mood after the dawn Pict attack. The knight let out a snide remark that it was Arisawe and Tullweim’s caterwauling the night before which beset the savages upon them. A brief discussion was had by the travelers on whether an attempt should be made to rescue the captured squire, to which Sir Gasparus stated, “We can’t match their pace. Even if we could track them they’d have already done whatever horrors to the boy they aim to. And now that we’ve been seen the Picts will search for us in greater numbers that will jeaporadize our task and endanger the lives of the nobility who tasked us. No. Our way is North, toward Nuadwyddon. Arisawe tells that the Ligureans believe it to be a sacred grove near Cimmeria. But following this trail will make us easy to track.” Cuana nodded in agreement. The idea of traveling off the trail was discussed and thrown out of hand as the horses Lady Coelia and Sir Gasparus rode and armor worn by the adventurers would slow the party down to a glacial crawl. Arisawe added the attackers ornamentation marked them from the Wolf tribe. Likely from Dji’ionondo’s village, Tsorahsa, which was dangerously close by. With a wary eye on the forest surrounding them the decision was made to set upon the trail north.

Tullweim was visibly agitated during the party’s passage through the wilderness. His mind was troubled with memories of dreams the night before. These were unlike any nightmare he had ever suffered. In his restless sleep the Aesir dreamt he’d grabbed Lady Coelia in the night, clasping his cold, iron hands around her mouth and throat. She awoke and struggled helplessly as Tullweim carried her through the forest like a rag doll. Deep into the dark, silent woods did the barbarian carry her until a large boulder was found. Lady Coelia was forced onto the boulder with Tullweim’s left hand and in his right was an axe. The Aesir slammed the young noblewoman’s head against the rock, stunning her, then the axe was brought down, splitting the woman’s once beautiful head in two. The nightmare had not stopped there, but Tullweim shook his head and shuddered, determined to forget the rest. As it was, he could not stand to look at Lady Coelia. But despite his efforts his eyes were constantly drawn to her. The barbarian longed for a drink from Gasparus’ whiskey jar to help drown the disturbed dream into oblivion. But that would have to wait until the nobleman fell asleep when Tullweim could forget his troubles with Arisawe. The Aesir thought he’d ventured into dream again as he caught the discernible scent of death in his nostrils. He was relieved to see he was not the only one who noticed the faint stench of rotting flesh.

The putrid miasma which hung thick in the air grew progressively stronger until it was near nauseating. As the party rounded a bend in the trail they saw a giant carcass blocking their path. None of the travelers had seen a creature like this before. The scales of the creature looked as if they could turn even Cuana’s greatsword. The corpses tail had a stinger like a scorpion’s and two rows of large ridges were along its back. Large scavengers had removed much of the exterior musculature of the creature and several small scroungers and other vermin were spotted around the oozing remains. A flock of vultures cackled in orgiastic glee as they fed on the upper torso of the rotting mass. Sir Gasparus held his cloak to his nose and ordered the adventurers to clear the road. When Xacksmith asked the noble how exactly they were to do such a thing, Gasparus said he cared not whether they hacked through the beast or rolled it out of the way, but they needed to be further along the trail before the Picts returned. Dhak said he might be able to move the enormous corpse. He asked that Lady Coelia move a short distance away with Arisawe and recommended Gasparus leave as well, but the noble’s pride held him firm and he ordered his retainers to remain. The Stygian simply shrugged his shoulders and warned his companions to look away. Once the women were clear he uttered archaic words of power over the dead. Dhak’s necromancy caused the bloated body to twitch.

The awful sight of the huge dead creature moving created a panic in Gasparus’ retainers and horse. The retainers cried out in alarm and the noble’s horse reared, mad with terror, threw its rider and galloped off in a panic. Sir Gasparus cursed and cried out after his retainers to catch the horse as he nervously withdrew from the unnatural animation. Dhak ordered the risen dragon to move out of its path and as it attempted to lift its decayed girth from the forest floor the sounds of fragile bones snapping drew concern from the Stygian sorcerer. After a full minute of futile effort Dhak sighed and ended his weaving of eldritch power. The sorcerer shook his head at his companions and stated they would have to move it with muscle and not magic. Xacksmith wished to gauge the task at hand and moved closer to the once again still corpse. The Hyrkanian only got to be thirty feet of the huge carcass before he was overcome by the horrid stench of decay and relieved himself of his morning meal. Xacksmith drug himself back to his feet, wiped his face and returned to his companions. Discussion was had between the Aesir, Hyrkanian and Stygian of how they could either climb or hew their way through if they could not even get within a stones throw of the remains. Cuana shook his head and tried a different approach.

The Cimmerian scaled a nearby tree, climbing to the highest branch which would support his weight. From his vantage point Cuana could see past the grisly carrion to a wide ravine in the forest. A simple bridge of rope and planks stretched across to the other side but the barbarian knew there was little chance either Lady Coelia’s or Gasparus’ horses getting across. Cuana chuckled a bit at the wasted effort the arrogant noble and retainers were making to retrieve a beast that was fated to be abandoned, then relayed his findings to his companions. Xacksmith again attempted to get closer to the carcass and with nothing left in his stomach was able to approach nearer. The Hyrkanian cast his rope and grapple across the top of the dead beast and felt it bite into bone. He then set to climb up the fetid remains, doing all he could to keep from dry heaving in the process. Cuana did not sit idle in the tree as the Hyrkanian climbed, but instead leapt from tree to tree to get closer to the ravine, the weight of his armor giving little hindrance to the Cimmerians mighty thews. A surprised shout and menacing roar that came from no human throat gave him pause. Two tentacles had burst forth from the reeking mass which Xacksmith stood upon. The Hyrkanian uncannily dodged one but the other wrapped itself around Xacksmith’s leg. The borderer managed to free himself of the tentacle and attempted to withdraw the way he’d come but as he planted his foot he felt it break through the rotted skin and sink deep into the creatures innards.

Dhak and Tullweim rushed towards the melee as Cuana continued to move towards the ravine. At the edge of the precipice a weak branch gave way and the Cimmerian plunged to the ground adding to the collection of scrapes and bruises already received on this journey. Xacksmith avoided another assault from the tentacles and pulled his foot free of the carrion clasp. The Hyrkanian then leapt over the palpus with a grace that would have made a Khitan coryphee gasp and landed on the nearby bridge. The Cimmerian lowered himself to the ravine’s edge and moved hand to hand towards the bridge. On the other side of the carcass Dhak and Tullweim began the gruesome work of hacking through, causing the nauseous odor to pour forth, stronger than before. The Aesir’s legendary constitution was not strong enough to keep the bile from gushing out. The Stygian though quite disturbed at the stench was used to being around cadavers and held his breakfast down behind clenched jaw. Xacksmith stayed out of reach of the creature as Cuana climbed to the bridge and drew his greatsword. The tentacles lashed out at the Cimmerian but his wary eye was able to guess their path and Cuana narrowly dodged both. As one retracted the barbarian struck twice with his weapon, shearing it through in a spray of gore.

Tullweim’s bardiche managed to clear enough of the fetid remains to see the parasite within. A bloated ovoid covered with a tough, rocklike skin and scraps of decaying matter, tittered menacingly through a mouth little more than a wide gash filled with razor sharp teeth. A lesser man would have panicked at the sight of such an abomination but the Aesir only saw red and wished to deal death to the horror. His rush to slay the beast was halted by a misstep in the foot thick rancid fluids. Tullweim landed hard in the basin of filth as the parasite wrapped its uninjured stalk around the barbarian’s throat. Dhak drew back his bow and let 3 arrows fly into the oblong horror causing a horrid shriek to resonate. Tullweim regained his footing, gripped the spiny tentacle which held him, and tore himself free. The depraved monstrosity whipped its appendage at the Aesir but could not penetrate past Tullweim’s hauberk. The barbarian sloshed through the decayed filth and with a roar, brought his bardiche clean through the egg-shaped menace.

Shaking off his rage Tullweim moved back into the clean outside air. Gasparus and his retainers returned and the Aesir let it be known they would need their aid in cleaving through the corpse and moving it out of the way. The noble nodded and told his men to get to it. The barbarian narrowed his eyes at Sir Gasparus, said nothing, and turned to the task at hand. Cuana could hear the tearing of flesh and wanted no part of it. Instead he scouted across the bridge in case some other danger lurked. The Cimmerian had only stood at the bridge’s end for scant moments when his keen ears heard the steady pounding of feet on the ground, closing on his location. A Pict burst into the clearing and for a long second the 2 men gazed at one another. Then the savage turned and made for the cover of trees. Cuana cried out an alarm to his companions and ran after the Pict, knowing his armor would slow him enough that he would never catch up to his quarry. Luckily the Hyrkanian was in range to aid the Cimmerian. Xacksmith let loose 2 arrows from his longbow and both struck true. The dead Pict fell against a tree, spilling paper from a bundle he carried. Cuana picked up the 2 missives, broke their seals and read the contents.

Lord Arrigus Barrabus, Governor,

Oriskonie is suffering greatly from attacks by the Bear, Owl and Snake tribes, who are being pushed into our rightful lands by those of the Wolf tribe. Our beloved King is unable to send more troops at this time because of incursions by Nemedia, who are treacherously taking advantage of Aquilonia’s dire emergencies in the Westermarck. I have even heard rumours that the King is not even in Tarantia; he may be to the south of some fabled land called Zembabwei with a large force of arms we desperately need. Trocero and Pallantides are reputed to be with him. I heard this rumour from a correspondent of mine who claims to have seen Diviatix, sodden with wine, at the great Mitraeum in Tarantia. Regardless, the black heathen, Sagoyaga, must be dealt with; however, he is proving difficult to find. If he is assassinated, then the tribes will again fall apart. Plagues, such as those that devastated Schohira and your own lands, have begun to hit us here. We have heard nothing of the fate of Thandara. We are also being overrun by Bossonians, who, in the guise of helping us fight Picts, have been helping themselves to our settlers, rations and lands. We are sending troops into the Karihton Valley to bolster it against Raven reprisals. I ask for any advice or news.

This dispatch is official and sealed.

Lord Glyco, Governor of Oriskonie

The second missive bespoke grimmer news still.

Commander Styr Dagny’s son,

We have been hard beset by Wildcats. After the beating our fort took from the Wolves we did not have enough men to maintain the fort. We have abandoned the frontier and are marching with due haste toward the Bossonian Marches. We intend to join forces with Baron Borgar at his castle to defend the Bossonian border. The Westermarck is lost. We must defend Bossonia and Greater Aquilonia. Toward that end, you need to retreat your Rangers toward Borgar Castle. The battle you are waging is fruitless, especially with the King in absentia from his throne. I pray he returns in time.

This dispatch is official and sealed.

Volund Odd’s son, Commandant of Fort Ohnerohkwa

Cuana was shaken from his reverie by the sound of his companions and a swearing knight who seethed at the forsaking of his steed. The Cimmerian passed the ill tidings to the others and the companies’ mood grew darker still. Tullweim made his way to the fallen Pict, scalped the corpse, and unceremoniously cast the body into the ravine. The Aesir then added the scalp to those he’d earlier collected, hanging from strings he’d tied to his armor. The travelers then pushed back upon the trail, their minds troubled, their eyes and ears warily aware of their bleak surroundings, sensing danger with each curve of the trail’s path.

The Voice in the Swamp

The company journeyed for days yet no pursuit from the Picts they’d encountered was evident. Tullweim continued his practice of stealing away from the party, drinking, and bedding their savage guide and his dreams became more troubling with each passing night. The alcohol seemed to be the Aesir’s only succor but it was not long before the bottle of Bossonian whiskey was drained. Tullweim irritably cast the empty container against a nearby tree with a curse. More acutely felt by the rest of the company was the depletion of their rations. Cuana and Xacksmith contemplated hunting for food but their apprehension of Picts waiting in the dark and the close proximity of a swamp darkened their prospects. The Hyrkanian struck out alone with his bow and returned an hour later with 2 lean hares. It was obvious to all the meager offering would not be enough to feed the 11 travelers and Arisawe divulged knowledge of a Pict village nearby which she could barter with for food. Sir Gasparus had his retainers offer up various tools from their packs and the Otter Pict left the party to split rabbit portions in the dwindling sunlight.

Later in the evening the travelers waited impatiently for Arisawe’s return and the chorus of frogs and other swamp creatures played on their nerves. Dhak engaged Lady Coelia in conversation, inquiring of her family and how she became involved in the Westermarck. The noblewoman spoke of her relation to the Duke of Manara and how she abandoned all due to her dreams of the Pictish wilderness. She met a female Pict slave once. The old woman said Coelia was destined for a great fate. It was from that woman she learned of the Staff of Dekanawidah, and indeed of the corrupt sorcerer himself, the deeds of whom sent a shiver down even the stoutest man’s spine to be heard. Lady Coelia’s tale was cut off, when amidst the cacophony of the primal swamp was heard a sound that did not belong. That of a woman, desperately crying out for aid. Cuana and Tullweim sprang up, ever ready to spring into danger. Dhak and Xacksmith recommended caution, intimating their suspicion of a Pict trap. The debate was interrupted by another strangled cry. Tullweim recognized the voice as Arisawe’s and plunged into the swamp with Cuana shortly behind.

The Pictish Wilderness had already proven itself to be one of the most dangerous environments the party had ever ventured in and the adventurers pressed into the dank, dark swamp with much trepidation. Strange lights glowed in the swamp and dry land was rarely encountered. The water surrounding the party bubbled in places as if something breathed beneath the surface. Tullweim moved toward a large pool of dark, still water, where he thought he had heard the cry for help. The Aesir looked around for any sign but no body or even prints were found. Tullweim stood, confounded and searching as nearby, not 5 feet from the the barbarian, lurked a creature in the dark with only the very top of its head and eyes above the surface of the water. As Tullweim’s foot stepped closer to the water the large reptile struck, the razor-sharp teeth from its blunt snout sunk deep into the Aesir’s leg. The barbarian shouted in alarm as he swung his bardiche into the creature’s rough, pebbly, hide. Dhak followed Tullweim’s attack with a slash from his arming sword, driving its point straight down the monitor’s gullet.

4 more of the long reptiles rushed out of the water towards the adventurers. 1 viciously swiped Cuana with its tail, knocking the Cimmerian prone. Another dire monitor clamped its savage jaws into Cuana’s flesh. Xacksmith pulled back on his bow and let 2 arrows loose at the beast which caused the monitor to release the Cimmerian. With his greatsword drawn, Cuana skewered the powerfully built reptile straight through its crown. Tullweim swung his bardiche at the closest creature but his blade went wide and the barbarian once again swore an oath at the Wildcat shaman who had cursed him. Cuana rushed to the Aesir’s side and savagely struck at the reptile’s flank. The creature fell still, gurgling blood into the swamp grass.

The adventurers turned to slay the remaining overgrown lizard when their attention was taken by the sudden appearance of a ghastly green fire which manifested out of thin air. Flaming red eyes shone through the flames and a bestial face with a sloped brow presented a wolfish grin from its lipless mouth. Dhak swallowed back the terror that threatened to overcome him and spoke in the demonic tongue that they meant the creature no harm and would leave its swamp. The swamp devil laughed as it replied in the same black language that it had not feasted on any human souls for some time and was very hungry. The devil’s slavering grin grew, showing its long, wicked teeth, as it moved closer to the Stygian. Cuana and Tullweim turned their near terror into a crimson mist of rage. The barbarian rushed the reptilian devil, unheeding of the flames which engulfed them. A desperate battle was joined as the dire monitor attacked Dhak and Xacksmith, seemingly in conjunction with the swamp devil. The Hyrkanian was knocked to the ground by a tail slap as the Stygian slashed twice with his blade. Tullweim missed the nimble swamp devil, but felt the strangest sensation of a freezing cold worse than winter on the highest mountain in Asgard come from the green nimbus of flame. Cuana too was struck by the cold from the outer dark, but brought his Akbitanan greatsword down true upon the devil with a barbaric roar. The swamp devil answered with its claws, both hitting the Cimmerian with such finesse as to find the chinks in his armor and tear at his flesh.

Xacksmith managed to roll away from the saurian he was engaged with, drew his blade and struck out one of its eyes. Dhak followed with 2 blows into the monitor’s husk. With that threat dealt with the Hyrkanian and Stygian turned their attention to the next. Tullweim’s bardiche glanced off the devil’s scaly hide, his great fortitude barely withstanding the hateful cold from the flames. Dhak and Xacksmith both fired multiple arrows at the creature, half of which went wide but 2 finding purchase. Cuana struck with 2 powerful blows resulting in a hellish cry which made all who heard them shudder. The green flames dissipated into the ether and the swamp returned to darkness lit only by pockets of gas and moonlight. The adventurers wasted no time in retreat back to their camp as Cuana and Tullweim suffered the rebukes of their fellows who had warned not to blindly follow a voice into the swamp.

As they returned to their fellow travelers they found everybody eating with a nervous look in their faces. Lady Coelia was relieved to see the adventurers as she had heard the sounds of battle and inhuman shrieks. Dhak assured her that what had attacked them would trouble the camp no more. Tullweim smiled at Arisawe, who was among the others in camp. The Pict woman said she had managed to gather some medicinal herbs from the village in addition to the food. The Aesir stripped off his armor and the painted lady tended to his wounds. Afterwards the party told their tale to Sir Gasparus as they ate. Arisawe spoke of such creatures as the swamp devil as common in the wilderness this side of Black river. The thought of other devils able to mimic voices and manifest anywhere prickled the small hairs on all in the camps’ necks. Watches were set and sleep was attempted among the sounds of frogs croaking from the swamp.

flatscan

09-20-2009, 11:36 AM

Blood and Smoke

The long weeks of travel had taken its toll on the journeyers. Each day consisted of traversing through trackless wilderness in blistering heat, swatting away strange insects, finding a defensible position to make camp, and hunting for whatever game could be found. Each night was full of strange sounds and restless sleep. Tullweim in particular had keenly felt the isolation and burden of this trip as his disturbing nightmares continued. The Aesir would wake gasping in the middle of the night, believing he had committed some unspeakable atrocity to his companions. Only after checking all in the camp could he lay back down, but still his mind was troubled. This day, Tullweim felt the heat acutely and his mind wandered far from where his feet landed. He barely heard Cuana call after him and was surprised to see his companions had stopped and were gathered around one of Sir Gasparus’ retainers, who lay face down in the ground.

The Cimmerian saw the strange daze his companion was in and moved to his side. The signs of a high fever were evident in the Aesir, his eyes were glassy, sweat poured down his face, and a faraway look was cast. Sir Gasparus’ retainer was in worse shape. His mind was addled and the weakened worker mumbled nonsense. Arisawe looked over the retainer and then Tullweim and found evidence of a red, bloated, insect bite. The Pict guide feared the barbarian and retainer had caught a deadly disease from the bite and suggested the group find shelter quickly so she could tend to them. Sir Gasparus furiously bemoaned the delay in their journey stopping would cause and suggested leaving the Aesir and retainer to whatever fate their gods had for them. Cuana refused and seemed about to strike the noble when Lady Coelia intervened, stressing the importance of having a warrior such as Tullweim to succeed in their task as well as a healthy retainer to carry their supplies. Sufficiently mollified, Gasparus berated the other retainers to lift their companion as Cuana guided Tullweim. Arisawe informed the group of an old Pict village nearby which she believed to be abandoned and where the 2 ill travelers could be treated.

After several miles of travel, in the dwindling sunlight, the party saw the village Arisawe spoke of. The palisade stood overgrown with vegetation and no Pict sat in the watcher’s post. The huts appeared empty, and in various states of disrepair. It was surmised the village had been abandoned for some time as the forest had encroached in and some of the cabins were completely covered with vines. No signs of battle were evident in the eerie ghost village and all were unsettled at the heavy silence within. Arisawe gestured towards a large cabin and said it used to be a sweat lodge where the Pict could perform a ritual to heal Tullweim and Gasparus’ retainer, though she required supplies for the ritual. Cuana and Xacksmith agreed to venture into the forest to snare an animal, which the Pict insisted be brought to her alive. Meanwhile, Dhak aided Arisawe in gathering various herbs and berries while the retainers moved their companion into the lodge with Tullweim trailing dazedly behind.

Hours passed before Cuana and Xacksmith returned with a live deer. They had difficulty with their attempts to snare the doe, but the Hyrkanian borderer had finally managed to track and capture it. Dhak, Lady Coelia, Sir Gasparus and his retainers all sat around a fire eating the meager jerky from previous caught game, some with disapproving looks at the animal which would be used for sorcery and not food. Arisawe stepped out of the lodge, her naked form silhouetted in the doorway by the fire within. The Pict had used the berries gathered to paint arcane marks in blue all over her body. The shaman stood unashamed at her stark nudity and asked Cuana and Xacksmith to bring the doe into the lodge and place it on a crude altar. Arisawe then stated the deer was large enough to do more than heal the disease in their companion and could be used to give the blessings of Jhebbal Sag to the adventurers. Whether out of a desire to have any advantage available or of curiosity in the ritual about to take place, Dhak and Xacksmith agreed to participate. Arisawe instructed them to remove their clothing when they entered the lodge. They noted Tullweim had already disrobed and sat with legs crossed on an old fur. A wary look was exchanged but both companions stripped off their attire and took their positions, sitting next to the Aesir.

Arisawe began chanting and sensuously swaying with a mesmerizing rhythm while coals burned and the room filled with heat and smoke. The participants had been instructed to chant as well, and not stop no matter what occurred, or risk the sorcerous energy running afoul. The Pict cast the various gathered herbs into the fire and the smoke danced about the female shaman’s body as if it were alive. The sparks from the fire moved like strange firefly-like insects which fluttered about the room. The walls of the lodge warped and bent as if the building itself was breathing and all within appeared to glow. To the participants astonishment, ghastly whispers were heard and the smoke began to take form. Each adventurer saw people they knew had passed from the mortal coil move in the haze, murmuring blasphemous truths from beyond the grave. The hypnotic chanting continued, the participants voices forming a disturbing chorus to their companions outside the haunt.

Cuana, Lady Coelia, Sir Gasparus and retainers sat uncomfortably in the center of the abandoned Pict village. The sound of Pictish chanting sent shudders down their backs and they could not keep themselves from looking apprehensively around at the empty huts expecting a surprise attack. Gasparus turned to Cuana and spoke of troubles in Aquilonia proper, far from the Westermarck, where the knight hoped to return to reclaim his families’ land. His ambitions were laid plain of a desire to gather mercenaries and carve out an estate from a cabal of merchants who, he claimed, had swindled his family. The knight then told the Cimmerian after their task was done Gasparus’ could use Cuana’s blade by his side, not only in ousting the merchants, but on revenging himself against powerful enemies. Sir Gasparus added that in the days of a barbarian king on the lion throne, a Cimmerian could do quite well for himself. Cuana had no interest in further relations with the arrogant knight and simply shook his head, saying he had plans to travel far from the flower of the west as he would not be welcome in or around Tarantia any longer. Gasparus shrugged his shoulders and stated the Cimmerian was throwing away a fortune in mercenary work and the group fell silent to the chanting from the lodge.

At the height of the ritual, Arisawe’s voice reached a fevered crescendo as she thrust her knife into the doe’s neck, spilling it’s life-blood in a bowl. The Pict continued intoning as the bowl filled, then she supplely swayed towards Tullweim. Arisawe dipped two fingers into the deer’s blood and anointed the Aesir with strange symbols as she pressed her hips onto Tullweim’s without missing a beat of her sorcerous weaving. The shaman’s voice remained strong and in control, though only barely, as she moved with the barbarian. And after minutes of chanting intermixed with heavy breathing, Arisawe rose, dipped her fingers into the blood and undulated towards Dhak. The Pict continued this practice with Xacksmith, then finally Gasparus’ servant, where her chanting finally gave way to a scream of ecstasy. With the ritual ended, Tullweim’s and the servant’s fever broke. All but Arisawe took several moments to collect themselves, feeling as if they had experienced something both wonderful and profane. The participants emerged from the lodge, looking weary but otherwise healthy and eager for sleep. Cuana offered to take first watch while the others settled in. Though for Dhak, Tullweim, Xacksmith, and Gasparus’ servant, little rest was to be found amid their troubled dreams.

The Sacred Grove

A week of uneasy travel through swamps and quagmires, forests and clearings, passed. Cuana noted all his sword-brothers seemed restless, taken with dark thoughts and strange behavior. Tullweim especially, as he recently had the habit of repeatedly dragging his blade across his arms and during stops in travel the Aesir had added quite a collection of self-inflicted scars. The Cimmerian didn’t press his barbarian ally about it, but Cuana’s concern for his friend was evident. Eventually, Arisawe declared the travelers to be near their destination. The trees were thick here and all were struck with a sense the ancient timber was aware of the travelers, observing with hostile intent. The undergrowth was denser, and thornier, making every step through the forest a tedious effort. Sir Gasparus grumbled his displeasure at the situation and came to a sudden stop at the sight of 3 primitive men robed in white.

The leader of the white-robed men held out his hand and demanded, in the tongue of the Picts, the travelers stop or be struck down. The adventurers looked around and saw several more of the curiously dressed men among the trees. Cuana stepped forward and replied with the reason or their presence, to reach Nuadwyddon and empower the staff Lady Coelia currently held. The druids eyes widened at the sight of the staff. The Cimmerian continued to parley, asking the druids for aid, even if that aid was just an allowance to continue towards the sacred grove. The lead druid solemnly nodded his head in agreement, but gave warning to tread carefully as the druids would be watching. Cuana thanked the man and relayed the result of the exchange to his companions. All continued their slog through the forest with wary eyes upon their newly acquired watchers. When asked who these strange people who lived between the Picts and Cimmerians were, Arisawe responded they were the Ligureans, a race of men who long feuded with Picts. Dhak had heard of the wild order of druids as well and Cuana had heard myths of the men robed in white. They both believed that an enemy of their enemy could only be their ally in this journey.

Eventually a dense grove of mighty redwood trees which towered to unbelievable heights stood before the travelers. A mist seemed to perpetually hang among this hilly land which radiated natural power. The grove was a rich verdure, clothed in primeval forests. Stone monoliths rose out of the green abundance, seeming to poke mystically out of the fogs and mists, lurking in the dark shadows of the mighty woods. Deep in the grim depths of this green labyrinth of moss-covered monoliths and vine-laden tree trunks lay a circle of giant stones raised by hands unknown deep in the shrouded past when legendary figures, long forgotten, ruled these lands. In the center of this awesome structure of mammoth monoliths was a stone altar, grim with the ancient bloodstains of sacrifices killed during the gruesome rites of the Ligurean druids. Lady Coelia moved towards Dhak and handed the Stygian the curious staff of leaf and bud. The noblewoman explained the great altar would need to be moved and the adventurers would have to descend beneath it with the staff. Coelia did not know exactly what would happen beneath the earth, but something there was supposedly able to awaken the staff. Sir Gasparus said he would not go, but would stay topside to guard Lady Coelia should the Ligureans change their disposition or any Picts launch an attack. The 4 adventurers then worked with a tree limb to move the massive altar from where it had sat for millennia.

Once the altar was moved, the entrance below was seen to be a small hole in the ground, barely large enough for a person to squeeze into. The hole was too narrow to pass through with armor, so Cuana, Tullweim, and Xacksmith removed theirs. A rope was lowered and Cuana climbed down 15 feet to the damp floor. At the bottom of the pit the Cimmerian could discern a dank burrow in the darkness. Things crawled in the earth here and a branch was used as a torch, but with the dampness of the hole and the breeze of foul air that came up from the burrow the torch would not stay lit. Cuana progressed into the damp cramped space in the dark and the others quickly followed. The burrow was little more than a low tunnel that twisted and wound like the bowels of a great creature of the earth. Moving on hands and knees the party keenly felt the worms and insects which moved in the moist mould of the earth and dropped from above as the party knocked them down with their passing. Cuana felt the sharp bite of an insect and the acidic fire of poison transmitted, though his fortitude was such that the venom’s bite did not take hold.

After what was only a quarter hour of travel but felt much longer to the travelers, the small tunnel widened and enlarged. All was dark and blind there and the adventurers could only move safely through their sense of touch. An angry hissing was heard mere steps from the party and they saw a multitude of feral eyes glowing dimly in the dark. A chorus of hellish voices, like the hiss of a pit of serpents raised in challenge at the adventurers intrusion. Stooped awkwardly as they were, the party drew their blades as the glowing eyes moved forward to attack. Javelins were thrown, striking the unarmored flesh of the party. The adventurers rushed to close the distance with their assailants and steel sang in the gloom. The disadvantage of blindness took its toll on the party as they missed the squat children of the night more than they hit. But when a blade did strike true a pair of feral eyes glared no more. The creatures did not have the same trouble finding their marks with their clubs, bashing and bruising the adventurers with dozens of furious blows. With lips mashed, blood running from their wounds, and mounting frustration the party slowly gained ground. The beasts numbers thinned and they began to fall back to the far side of the chamber. After 2 more were struck down the remainder fled into another tunnel and no further malevolent eyes gleamed. The party took a moment to regroup and catch their breath.

Dhak attempted to bind Cuana’s wounds in the dark, but knew his attempts were sloppy and not likely of any aid. The adventurers then pressed on into the dusk to another soggy chamber. The smell of damp earth and mould was everywhere. Worms and insects were underfoot, in the parties hair and nearly everywhere else. Something horrible seemed to draw them there. After careful passage into the dank chamber all that could be seen were the dancing pinpoints of those feral, glowing eyes. Blades at the ready, the adventurers were about to pounce when they were stopped by a voice that spoke not to their ears, but as a sound within their head, echoing through their very soul. The voice said, “So my staff comes home after all these long aeons…” A rustling of the terrible thing which spoke in their minds was heard. The squat creatures in the chamber hissed a repulsive chant, a litany of horrific worship for their misbegotten king. The grotesque bulk swayed in front of the party, barely glimpsed in the darkness as it passed in front of the feral eyes of its worshipers. Tullweim could not hold in his panic at the presence of this demon and fled into the tunnel they had entered from.

Dhak asked the devil what it was known as, to which the gurgling voice replied, “Once, I was known as Dekanawidah, weaver of the blackest sorcery, now…I am but the Lord of the Worms. Why have you trespassed unto my domain?” The Stygian replied that they were tasked with awakening the staff he carried. The demon chuckled, saying it would attune the staff, in exchange for a sacrifice. A great warrior, or virgin soul would be sufficient, as would a gift of fate or entering into a pact with Dekanawidah. Neither Cuana nor Xacksmith liked the terms the demon had set. The Cimmerian stated he was going to find Tullweim and the Hyrkanian said he would help. The Stygian stood alone with the creature and could feel the fetid breath the demon exhaled. Seeing no other way in succeeding in his task for a woman he had a growing obsession for, Dhak agreed into entering a demonic pact with the Lord of Worms. The devil slithered forward, pulled the Stygian’s tunic open, muttered arcane words of binding spirits, then bit deep into the flesh above Dhak’s heart, causing a scream of agony to burst for from the Styigan and leaving a mark on both body and soul.

Treachery in the Grove

The other adventurers ran into Tullweim near the tunnel which led to the entrance and the Aesir had composed himself from the terror which caused him to flee. But Tullweim had some troubling news. The barbarian told of how he’d moved back to the entrance to climb out but the rope the party had climbed down was no longer there. The Aesir had called for Gasparus who appeared saying only that the rope would come down when the group had returned with the awakened staff. Cuana was furious upon hearing of Gasparus’ actions and made his way back through the dark tunnel to the entrance. The Cimmerian dug his hands into the moist soil and ascended what civilized men would consider an impossible task. Cuana reached the apex of his climb, he swung his arm out over the lip of the hole and began pulling himself up seeing, too late, Gasparus’ sword swing down upon the Cimmerian’s forearm. Cuana roared with a great fury as he leapt out of the hole, drew his greatsword and rushed the treacherous noble. The Cimmerian’s greatsword cleaved through the noble’s breastplate and Gasparus returned with his blade, but did little than scratch the mighty Cimmerian. Again Cuana hammered into the knight causing gouts of blood to spew forth from a massive tear down the nobles’ side. Gasparus feebly struck back and his eyes grew wide with terror knowing he could not stop his indomitable foe. Cuana bore down on his enemy barely aware of Arisawe chanting behind him. Mere feet from his hated foe, the Cimmerian was struck by agonizing pain which brought him to his knees. Gasparus smiled and walked confidently to the downed Cimmerian. He raised his broadsword above Cuana’s writhing form and brought it down with all his hatred as Tullweim climbed out of the nearby hole in time to see his friend fall.

The Aesir, fueled by rage, charged Gasparus and brought his bardiche down onto his breastplate, knocking the noble to the ground. Xacksmith used his rope to scale the pit and emerged seeing Arisawe weave sorcery, calling out to the wilderness around them. Dhak was next to climb out as a pale white panther rushed to the Pict shaman’s side and attacked the Aesir, raking its claws against the unarmored barbarian’s already lacerated flesh. Sir Gasparus crawled away from the distracted Aesir and rose to his feet as Xacksmith leveled his bow at the panther, letting 2 arrows fly. Both shafts pierced deeply into the creatures’ side. Dhak turned his gaze to the noble and called upon his blasphemous arts to inflict the same torment on Gasparus which Arisawe had afflicted Cuana with. The knight cried out in agonizing pain and hit the ground unconscious from his many physical and spiritual wounds. Tullweim struck with 2 powerful attacks against the beast, painting the creatures unnaturally pale flesh crimson as it thudded heavily to the ground. All 3 warriors glared murderously at the Pict they had each recently copulated with.

Arisawe desperately called out for mercy, claiming she was forced to obey Gasparus’ order to betray the party. Tullweim took one look at the scene around him, the dead Ligureans, Lady Coelia bloodied on the ground, the dead panther, an unconscious knight, and a long time ally who lay still on the forest floor, shook his head, grabbed the Pict by her hair and rammed her skull against a nearby tree. The beautiful Pict crumpled onto the ground as Dhak moved to check Lady Coelia’s condition and Xacksmith likewise searched for signs of life from Cuana in the heavy mists of the Ligurean grove.

flatscan

11-25-2009, 11:13 AM

Chapter 10 Session 9

Loose Ends

Tullweim leered at the men who had carried supplies throughout this journey and said, “leave now and we shall spare your lives.” Sir Gasparus’ retainers did not hesitate and fled like rabbits from wolves as Xacksmith checked Cuana’s still form for any sign of life. The Hyrkanian thought he caught the slightest of breaths from the Cimmerian and immediately went to work binding his many wounds. Tullweim was still furious at Sir Gasparus and the Pict the Aesir had taken as a lover, Arisawe, but when he caught sight of Xacksmith’s ministrations he stepped over to give what aid he could. The Hyrkanian was doubtful his work could help the Cimmerian in the short-term and Tullweim suggested using some of the poultice Cuana carried with him. At the same moment, Dhak checked Lady Coelia and found her to be still among the living. The Stygian roused the young noblewoman, gave her some water from his canteen, soothingly caressed her head and asked what had happened while the party was beneath the earth. Coelia told of being struck from behind and dimly heard the sounds of battle before she lost consciousness. The Stygian surmised that must have been the Ligureans attacking Gasparus and Arisawe and gestured to the druid’s bodies which laid strewn about, all with deep sword wounds. Lady Coelia gulped, then breathlessly inquired if the adventurers had succeeded in their task. Dhak responded in the affirmative, but not without cost. Tullweim then asked the sorcerer how he managed to convince the devil, Dekanawidah, to awaken the staff. The Stygian simply said, “I did what was necessary.”

After a quarter hour of work, Cuana was finally brought back from the brink of oblivion. The Cimmerian was pleased to see his companions had bested Arisawe and Gasparus. To which Dhak said there was work yet to be done with the treacherous pair and leveled a murderous glare at their unconscious foes. Knowing full well the results would not be pleasant, Cuana and Xacksmith convinced Lady Coelia to go with them into the mist, away from this place of deceit and death. The noblewoman agreed, casting a nervous look at the Aesir and Stygian. Dhak waited a few minutes, then instructed Tullweim to put Arisawe on the blood-stained altar. The barbarian laid the Pict on the ancient altar and held her down just as she stirred. The Pict shaman begged for her life, pleading for mercy as Dhak held his blade above her. The Stygian spoke in the Demonic tongue, giving the Pict’s soul to his new master as he plunged the sword through Arisawe’s chest. Tullweim was a bit shaken from witnessing the act of murdering a woman he had grown close to and asked why they had not put Arisawe to any questions of her and Gasparus’ betrayal. The Stygian replied that it was easier to do things this way. Dhak then used his control of the necromantic arts to speak with the dead Pict. Arisawe gasped in horror as her soul, which had left her body to demonic agony, was wrenched back almost as quickly.

A burning sensation overcame the Stygian above his heart, where the demon Dekanawidah had recently marked him, and the Stygian was wracked with pain. Through sheer willpower alone Dhak was able to choke back the throbbing torment and laid bare his power over the dead woman by threatening to keep her trapped aware in her decaying corpse if she did not reveal why the party was betrayed. Arisawe told of how Sir Gasparus had been working for both Lady Coelia and Dji’ionando, a chief of the Wolf clan of Picts. The corrupt noble planned on fulfilling Coelia’s task of awakening the staff, then killing all involved and selling the staff to the Picts for silver they’d captured from the many caravans which had been waylaid by the savages. Dhak chuckled at the banal greed of the arrogant noble and then ceased his sorcery, causing Arisawe’s corpse to once again lie still. With the gruesome task done, Tullweim asked the Stygian if the Lord of Worms could aid the Nordheimer in lifting the curse the Wildcat Pict shaman had cast on the barbarian’s head. Dhak thought it would be possible and agreed to escort Tullweim to Dekanawidah’s cave. Meanwhile, Cuana, Lady Coelia, and Xacksmith made their way through the redwoods and mist. The Hyrkanian caught sight of a hazy shape moving through the gloom and brought the Cimmerian’s attention to it. The pair immediately ran towards where the figure had been glimpsed, but when they arrived they saw nothing. If there were footprints or other traces to be seen, neither experienced woodsmen could find them and they warily made their way back to the noblewoman’s side awaiting their companions to finish their work.

Dhak and Tullweim once again made their way through the tight, winding path underground. The insects and vermin moved about the earthen artery alongside and several bit into the 2 adventurers, though luckily neither succumbed to the venomous bites. After they emerged from the tunnel they felt along the walls attempting to retrace their steps in the dark and listening for the movement of the creatures attracted to the Lord of Worms. They did not have to travel far before they felt Dekanawidah’s presence in their heads, and the demon was not pleased. Dhak knelt in submission to his new master who again stood before the feral, glowing eyes of his chanting and hissing servants. The great bulk lumbered closer to the Stygian and the sorcerer could feel the demon’s displeasure in the air and through the mark on his chest. Dekanawidah angrily demanded to know why Dhak had teased him with a deliciously corrupt soul only to yank it away from him moments after. The Stygian realized his action of bringing forth Arisawe’s soul to speak with her had undone his sacrifice of the Pict and prostrated himself in apology, promising in the demonic tongue to find another soul for his master to feed upon. Dekanawidah stressed the Stygian should not fail him or he would take the sorcerer’s own soul instead. Dhak fearfully expressed his understanding and turned to Tullweim to speak.

The Aesir barely contained the terror which threatened to overcome him again in the presence of the Lord of Worms. Little caring if his soul would be damned by the action, Tullweim croaked out a plea for aid in stripping the curse which afflicted him. Dekanawidah slithered towards the barbarian and seemed to sniff the air around him. The demon replied that he could indeed remove the curse but doing so would come at a cost. Tullweim agreed to sacrifice a warrior to appease the demon and the pair of adventurers again made their way out of Lord of Worm’s chamber. Once again above ground, Tullweim moved to Sir Gasparus’ prone form and lifted him over his shoulder without a word. The Aesir removed the knights armor and placed Gasparus unceremoniously upon the blood-stained altar. With Dhak’s instruction, Tullweim shouted out his gift of the treacherous’ knights soul to Dekanawidah and plunged Gasparus’ broadsword deep into the nobles’ chest. Whether or not the demon had made good on the deal was unknown to the barbarian, but Tullweim was at least satisfied in removing the conniving, arrogant noble from his presence. With the deed done, the Aesir collected the Ligurean’s bodies and made a funeral pyre. Dhak and Tullweim then walked away from that ill-fated site, behind them a barely controlled blaze sent smoke billowing up to the winds.

The Journey Back

Dhak and Tullweim reconvened with Cuana and Xacksmith in the misted forest. The Hyrkanian informed the Aesir and Stygian of the figure in the gloom and his belief they were being tracked. The party moved out of the range of redwoods into the dense tract of wilderness with weapons drawn. A quarter mile from the redwood treeline had been traversed when a hail of arrows fell from the surrounding trees. Lady Coelia was struck by 2 shafts and fell to the ground. Cuana, Dhak, and Xacksmith were also stung by the blood-seeking bolts but Tullweim’s hauberk turned all the arrows aimed at the Aesir. The Hyrkanian and Stygian leapt to the ground as the Cimmerian maneuvered himself into the trees for cover but was struck by another arrow which sent him to his knees and almost robbed Cuana of consciousness. Tullweim spotted 2 of the Picts firing from behind the cover of trees, let out a roar and moved like a cornered bear among wolves. The Aesir hacked and slashed the 2 Picts with his bardiche and all the hate in hell. Dhak and Xacksmith both drew their bows and returned fire to their assailants as Cuana crawled behind cover. One of the Picts charged Tullweim, slamming the Aesir to the ground while several others dropped their bows and brought their stone hatchets down upon the barbarian. Tullweim returned to his feet, taking several glancing strikes for his effort, one resulted in a Pict shattering his stone hatchet upon the Aesir’s armor.

Tullweim then brought his bardiche down upon the feathered devil who had knocked him down, cleaving deep into the Pict’s side. Dhak and Xacksmith let loose with a volley of arrows taking down several of the Picts which surrounded the Aesir. Cuana was taking fire from another Pict, whose face was concealed with a war mask, but managed to dodge the missiles. Moving with panther-like alacrity, the Cimmerian rushed at the masked devil with a wide swing of his greatsword. The Pict dropped his bow and used his club and hatchet to trip the barbarian. Cuana rolled away from his attacker, got back to his feet, menacingly roared, and devastatingly hacked into the Pict’s shoulder. The Cimmerian brutally plunged his sword through the Pict’s abdomen, not stopping until the hilt of his sword touched the flesh of his enemy. Tullweim’s bardiche lopped the head off the Pict he’d faced as Dhak and Xacksmith finished off the remaining savages. As quickly as the combat had started, it was bloodily ended.

The adventurers patched up their wounds as well as their patrons and after Tullweim scalped the dead Picts they were back to the journey to the settlements in Oriskonie. Fortune smiled on the battered party as they were able to stay clear of any further engagements with Picts on the journey back to the Westermarck. In the weeks of travel, Dhak used his not-inconsiderable charisma to comfort and woo Lady Coelia. It is true that strange times results in strange bedfellows and for the noblewoman the past few weeks had truly been strange. One evening of their travel she found herself laying in the arms of the Stygian sorcerer, much to the envy of his allies whose bedrolls were shared only by whatever insects or snakes found their way into them. Tullweim’s mood only darkened in seeing the happiness his ally had found and his practice of cutting into his arms continued. Not even Cuana’s bawdy tales could lighten the dark clouds around the Aesir’s soul.

Finally, a settlement bursting with refugees was found. The adventurers learned Schohira had fallen completely to the Pictish invaders, Conawaga was close to falling, though Velitrium (now cut off from supplies and reinforcements) and Skandaga still stood. Most of the rest of Oriskonie was also overrun, with only a scant few of the larger settlements still standing, taking in refugees by the wagon load. Thandara was so isolated from the other settlements that its fate was completely unknown, although a few Bossonians had heard troubling rumours about the province. Cuana learned the refugee settlement where he’d left Hema and her sister had also fallen, and the Cimmerian grew eager to learn of their fate. The barbarian asked many people, but none had heard of the girl named Hema, or could give any clue as to what may have befallen her. With a heavy heart the Cimmerian cleaned the strip of purple silk Hema had given him for good luck and tied it round his sword arm with an oath to make the Picts pay for their onslaught.

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12-02-2009, 10:01 AM

Chapter 10 Session 10

The Path to Osekowa

Only the occasional cries of a waking bird broke the heavy silence of the forest in the grey light of pre-dawn. In the distance Tullweim saw the group’s destination, a Pict village called Osekowa, home to Sagoyaga, the Paramount Chief of the Wolf tribe. Sagayoga had managed to do what no previous savage had done, getting the disparate tribes of Pictland to set aside their differences and join together into an unstoppable, belligerent army of raging cutthroats and bloody-handed savages. It was he whose life needed to be brutally ended. Osekowa had a palisade around its perimeter like previously encountered Pict dwellings, but instead of completely surrounding the village, the palisade ended at the border of a swamp. Xacksmith spotted a lone sentry in the watch–hut guarding the gate of the palisade. Dhak suggested killing the sentry silently by bow-shot, but after a brief exchange with his companions it was decided the distance and number of shots required to kill the Pict watcher would give time to alert the savages in the village. The adventurers decided their best path to Osekowa would be through the nearby swamp, which the watcher’s hut was blind to. Cuana led the party as they crept toward the swamp, slid down into the murky water one by one, and waded toward the village, with only their heads showing from the surface of the murky depths.

The adventurers slowly made their way, tense in anticipation of the bloodshed to come, when the Aesir was grabbed by a hideous creature which burst from underneath the stagnant water. Tullweim fought with the creature, which looked as if it had once been human but now had an unusually long neck, webbed hands which ended in claws, scales, and pointed teeth. The foul abomination struggled to plunge the northman’s head under the water’s surface but the mighty Aesir’s strength was too much for it. Tullweim gritted his teeth, overcame the revulsion which threatened him and threw the horrid mockery of human life back. The other adventurers noticed 7 more of the horrid creatures emerge from the dark pools of water around them. Cuana drew and plunged his greatsword through the chest of one, then cried out in alarm as an alligator clamped down upon the Cimmerian’s arm. Dhak and Xacksmith pushed away the brutes which surrounded them and swam to a nearby protrusion of land. The Cimmerian pulled the alligator’s jaws open enough to free his bloodied arm then finished off the abomination which was still impaled on his sword. In a rush of movement Cuana slew a second servant in the swamp and plunged his greatsword through a third. Meanwhile 2 of the creatures wrapped their scaly arms around the Aesir, pulling him down into the hazy water below.

Xacksmith quickly fired several arrows at the anathema accosting the party, landing several hits which caused a black ichor to pour forth from the wounds. Cuana narrowly dodged the alligator’s maw and saw 2 more of the beasts closing. The alligators both savagely bit into the barbarian but Cuana’s armor deflected the brunt of the sharp teeth which sought his blood. Then the abomination the Aesir had previously hurled away wrapped it’s arms around Cuana and sunk it’s teeth into the Cimmerian. Tullweim struggled mightily with the 2 creatures which beset him. The Aesir would push one away only to have the other grapple him and between the 2 slavering assailants his head was again plunged into the water. An alligator moved to the edge of the land the Hyrkanian and Stygian stood upon and viciously snapped its jaws at Dhak. The sorcerer responded with a hypnotic invocation which mesmerized most of the parties foes. Cuana and Tullweim wasted no time in using the opportunity to swim to the nearest mass of land. For the Aesir it was with the Hyrkanian and Stygian he stood, for the Cimmerian it was another island within shouting distance. As Cuana raised himself from the water another alligator surfaced and ravaged the barbarian’s leg. The beast tried to pull the Cimmerian back into the water but Cuana’s thews proved too strong and he was able to wrench himself free.

Once the Stygian’s sorcery ended the servants in the swamp rushed at Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith. Both the borderer and sorcerer rapidly fired their bows and Tullweim swung his bardiche shearing the head of one of the creatures off it’s neck. Two alligators closed on Cuana but the Cimmerian was able to dodge both and respond by slashing murderously, killing one of the beasts, and with a reverse swing ending the other’s miserable life. The barbarian then leapt to another nearby island and jumped again to the same land his companions occupied. One last alligator menaced the party but stood no chance of defeating the arrows, bardiche, and greatsword which pierced and slashed its scaled hide. After a moment was taken to catch their collective breath, the Stygian suggested time be taken for the tending of wounds but the idea was quickly thrown out as the adventurers couldn’t take the chance the sounds of splashing and battle had not roused the Picts. The party neared the village, avoiding the swamp water as much as possible and kept a keen eye open for any other attackers.

Bloodshed Before the Grim Altar-Hut

The village of Osekowa consisted of 4 score long-houses, each at least 80 feet long. A council longhouse was also seen but it was the daub-and-wattle altar-hut decorated with grotesque spirit masks, skulls of captives, and other macabre religious icons which drew the adventurers attention. They neared the savage village and were immediately startled to hear the cries of women. 4 Pict women were seen and the adventurers rushed forward with their weapons drawn. The gaggle of women scattered further into the village. Knowing there was no chance of stealth left to them the adventurers slowed their pace as they neared the altar-hut. As they arrived, the party saw their way barred by 13 Picts and one large, menacingly growling, wolf. A pained groan was heard from inside the altar-hut but before any words could be made out, one of the savages, be-feathered in the manner of a shaman stepped forward. The Pict said he knew of the adventurers and promised them they would be strapped to the ceremonial posts in the center of the village, tortured and changed into servants and play things. Cuana replied in Pictish that they sought only Sagoyaga and would spare the rest if taken to him. The shaman laughed harshly and responded that he was Machk, loyal servant to the Paramount Chief, and the adventurers were too late as Sagoyaga was likely already arrived at Velitrium with 4,000 strong Picts who aimed to raze the fort that very morning. Cuana replied that the shaman’s name may as well be worm-food as Tullweim rushed the shaman and struck a vicious blow with his bardiche. The Cimmerian followed, cutting a wide arc as he pressed forward into the savages. One Pict fell in a bloody heap to Cuana’s blade and another twisted just enough to prevent the barbarian’s greatsword from mortally wounding him.

Arrows were set loose by the Picts, aimed at the Cimmerian. Dhak and Xacksmith let loose arrows of their own, dropping a Pict between them, as one of the savages struck at Tullweim with a greatsword, likely captured from a fallen Hyborian, cutting deep into the barbarian’s flesh. The large wolf lunged at the Aesir, biting deep into Tullweim’s thigh. The beast then pulled the Aesir’s leg out from under him and several more Picts crowded around to hammer their hatchets and clubs down. Another greatsword wielding Pict circled Cuana and brought his blade to bear upon the Cimmerian. 2 more Picts closed on Cuana but the barbarian’s blade split one savages head like a ripe melon then cleaved into the second. Tullweim managed to kick the wolf off of him and though he took several blows from the surrounding Picts, including those which wielded greatswords, he was able to bloodily get to his feet. The Aesir swung his weapon again at Machk, but the shaman quickly wove a curse which caused the brutal result of the barbarian’s strike to be evident on Tullweim’s own flesh. Machk quickly withdrew behind the protection of the other Picts and shouted for his wolf to kill the barbarian. Once again the wolf bite deep between the chinks in Tullweim’s armor and once again the beast yanked the Aesir’s feet out from under him. Cuana was beset by another volley of arrows as both of the greatsword wielding Picts caught the barbarian in the arc of their devastating blades. The Cimmerian responded with a powerful attack of his own which dropped the first greatsword wielding Pict and the back swing spilled the guts of second onto the trampled grass. Several more of the savages fell, pin-cushioned from the Hyrkanian and Stygian’s rapidly fired arrows.

Many of the Pictish dogs laid bloodied and dead. Five still fired arrows at Cuana and Machk remained, shouting curses and commands from behind his wolf. The beast circled the bloodied Aesir, striking wherever it found a sufficient gap in Tullweim’s armor. Cuana quickly moved to the Pict shaman catching Machk by surprise with another powerful blow of his greatsword, causing massive damage which resulted in the shaman’s cloven carcass thudding to the ground in a spray of blood and gore. The wolf, however, proved difficult to strike as it continuously dodged the Aesir and Cimmerian’s swings. The beast rushed inside the sweep of the Cimmerian’s sword and clamped its jaws down upon Cuana’s legs. Though the wolf drew blood it could not force the Cimmerian to his back as it had done with Tullweim. Dhak and Xacksmith exchanged fire with the remaining Pict archers as Tullweim flanked the wolf and attempted to strike the beast, but once again the bruised Aesir missed. The wolf then lunged forward at Cuana and again sunk its sharp teeth into the Cimmerian’s leg. Again Cuana twisted free and brought his sword down, dealing a tremendous blow. The wolf yelped, then growled pure hatred as it fixed its gaze upon the Cimmerian. Tullweim landed a blow upon the beasts back but still the creature did not fall. The wolf spun with great alacrity, clamped its teeth upon the Aesir’s leg and once again pulled Tullweim to the ground. Seeing the plight the barbarian’s were in, Dhak and Xacksmith shifted their attention to the troublesome wolf, both sending arrows flying at the beast. One of Xacksmith’s arrows missed its mark and sunk deep into Cuana’s arm. Still on his back, hearing the dark whispers of death ringing enticingly in his ear, Tullweim desperately swung his bardiche, opening a jagged gash into the wolf’s side and with a final whine the beast fell still.

Several more arrows were fired by the remaining Picts, two of which sunk deep into Cuana’s shoulder. The Aesir and Cimmerian both chose one of the remaining archers and advanced. The savage Cuana faced off with hopped back and fired 2 more arrows into the barbarian. With a roar the Cimmerian plunged his sword through the Pict’s gut, spilling his life blood down the length of the great blade. Tullweim similarly dispatched the last Pict warrior with his bardiche cleaving a gully straight down the center of the savages chest. The Cimmerian yanked out the arrow Xacksmith had shot into him and gave the Hyrkanian a menacing stage which quickly turned to laughter as Cuana took in the piled bodies of their Pict enemies. The laughter was quickly ended by the sounds of groans from within the altar-hut, rekindling the adventurers curiosity to who was inside.

flatscan

01-02-2010, 12:04 PM

Chapter 10 Session 11

The Wretch’s Boon

Tullweim heavily set the bardiche haft on the ground and used the weapon as an aid to keep his bruised and bloodied body steady. Cuana offered to patch the Aesir’s wounds and the barbarian nodded in agreement. Xacksmith asked of the groaning from the altar-hut but before Dhak could answer, the Stygian was stricken by tormenting agony. The sorcerer’s head felt as if it was aflame and the demonic mark on his chest burned as if all the fires in hell were about to burst forth from Dhak’s black heart. As the Hyrkanian moved to aid the bewitched Stygian another figure lunged from a nearby hut. For a brief moment Xacksmith doubted his eyes as he witnessed a Hyborian woman with tawny locks and blue eyes, dressed in the manner of of a Pict, charge the sorcerer with a spear. The woman howled as she plunged the point of the weapon deep into Dhak’s belly. The Hyrkanian responded by slamming the hilt of his arming sword onto the woman’s skull, robbing her of her senses. Xacksmith quickly bound the woman with the rope he carried. The Stygian’s blurred vision began to clear as he spoke aloud in the Demonic tongue of his master, “Dekanawidah, Lord of worms, a sacrifice has just made herself known to me.” Dhak plunged his arming sword into the unconscious woman while intoning further dark words in the horrid tongue of infernal creatures.

Weak groans still issued forth from within the grim altar-hut and the Stygian entered after he wiped his blade clean and Xacksmith looked on in shock. Inside the disgusting daub-and-wattle hut decorated with skulls and other ghastly relics of past sacrifices and rituals laid a tortured form. Dhak asked the wretch if he could speak Aquilonian and the man answered in the affirmative, saying he could speak many tongues both noble and dark. The Stygian narrowed his eyes in response and asked who the man was. The mutilated man spoke through broken lips and stated he was a Ligurean druid who was captured by the Wolf Picts and was to be a great sacrifice to Machk’s demon masters. Dhak told of the slaying of the Pict shaman and the druid solemnly nodded stating it was strange days when the lights best chance was for evil men to war with evil men. The Ligurean then asked if the Stygian intended to slay the Paramount Chief of the Wolf clan, Sagoyaga. Dhak stated his blade indeed thirsted for Sagoyaga’s blood but Machk had let it known the Paramount Chief was near Velitreum with a strong force of warriors ready to put the fort to the fires and it seemed the Stygian would have to collect the Pict’s head another day. The Ligurean chuckled and said he could help the Stygian collect his trophy this day and to look for a white stag which would lead the party to their fate. The druid then used the last of his strength weaving a sorcerous incantation, the final words croaking with his dying breath.

After the Ligurean passed on to whatever gods he worshiped the Stygian searched the altar-hut for anything of use. Dhak made note of the wall of feathers from a variety of birds found in Pictland, all pinned in a design which resembled the spread arrangement of a peacock’s plumes. The Stygian was well aware of the significance the Picts attached to feathers and of particular note were a pair from a white heron. Dhak believed that when displayed, those particular feathers were used among the disparate tribes of Pictland to approach another tribes village or camp in peace. After tucking the white heron’s feathers under his arms the Stygian tore the altar-hut apart for any other items which could aid the adventurers. Dhak’s face broke into a large smile when he found a clay pot with a familiar paste of alchemical quality. A paste which could aid in binding wounds and restoring strength. Finding nothing else of use the Stygian unceremoniously left the corpse of the Ligurean in his grim tomb. As he emerged, Dhak explained the Ligurean’s cryptic message of following a white stag to Sagoyaga. Cuana and Xacksmith were about to demand answers for the slaying of the Hyborian woman in Pict garb when the Stygian produced the clay pot of rejuvenating poultice. The Cimmerian quickly forgot his questions with the thought of treating his many wounds. Cuana stripped off his armor and immediately began applying the ointment.

Xacksmith was not so easily distracted and was about to continue his questioning when he was stopped mid-sentence by the appearance of a pale white stag of regal bearing. The stag seemed to regard the adventurers with an impatient look. The party quickly gathered their belongings, along with a few items off the dead Picts, and approached the animal. The beast reared and turned away from them, dashing quickly into the swamps. The adventurers followed with a quickened haste, moving faster than they believed any man could possibly run. The Pictish wilderness blurred as they quickly moved through the terrain. Within a minute they were past the swamps and into the thick trees. All were amazed the undergrowth which had in the past impeded their progress was barely noticed. The adventurers dashed through the forests, leapt over shallow rivers, felt the lash of branches and brambles against them and passed near-deserted Pict villages without incident. Alligators and other animals of the forest watched, but none attacked in the brief moments before they were long left behind. Within a short time the party approached the Black River and for but a second they believed they would have to wade the dangerous body of water, but the stag quickly led them to several abandoned canoes and swam ahead of them. In an astonishingly quick amount of time the party saw smoke signals hanging in the air and realized they had arrived behind the lines of the Pict’s siege.

The white stag stopped and looked at each of the adventurers. It then motioned with its head towards the forest from which smoke signals were being used to communicate with the Pictish war tribes in the immediate area. Each of the adventurers knew what the white stag was telling them, that Sagoyaga was there, telling his troops to mobilize. Then the stag turned and bolted in the opposite direction, back into the dark forest. With the Ligurean’s beast gone the sorcery which quickened the parties’ movement abated as well and the adventurers crept forward. It was not long before the party came before a small collection of temporary Pict dwellings where weapons were being sharpened and a large bonfire was being manipulated with blankets to send signals to the heavens. A quick count was made and 30 Wolf Picts were counted, a few bearing captured greatswords, a few with Bossonian longbows, and others wielding axes and clubs. But the figure who drew their eyes stood next to a fierce wolf, similar to the one controlled by Machk. He was a powerful-looking Pict, he was in the process of covering his face with a war mask with a single eagle feather in an upright position and a stag antler head-dress further decorated with fantastic ostrich plumes and eagle feathers stained red. Wolf teeth were weaved into his shaggy hair and adorned his weapons. Even having never before seen the man, the adventurers knew this was their prey.

The Assault on the War Camp

The adventurers pulled away from Sagoyaga’s camp silently as panthers. They then quietly weighed their options. It was quickly argued that a full on attack would be folly and the adventurers decided Xacksmith would approach the Pict camp showing the white heron feathers and hope Dhak was right about the meaning of the gesture. The Hyrkanian was understandably nervous about such an uncertain ploy and insisted Cuana and Tullweim flank him. Dhak would trail behind to hide the presence of the curious staff which Dekanawidah had empowered to defeat Sagoyaga. The hope was that Sagoyaga would present himself and stand before the Hyrkanian allowing Dhak dangerously close to spring upon him and hit him with the staff. And so the adventurers walked out, with Xacksmith displaying the heron feathers in the lead, one heavy step after another, towards victory or certain death.

The party made it little more than ten paces before they were challenged by a Wolf Pict sentry. The scout quickly called out to his brethren and the adventurers were met with almost the entire camp of savages. Sagoyaga indeed stepped forward and demanded to know why the adventurers dared to sully their camp, did the Hyborians in the fort wish to surrender? Cuana replied, “we bring important news from Machk.” But the Cimmerian’s bluff was weak and the Paramount Chief saw through it when he noticed his shaman’s scalp on Tullweim’s belt. Sagoyaga roared, propelling his warriors to action, as Cuana roared back and charged. The Picts rushed forward with their weapons drawn and murder in their eyes and a furious melee ensued. Cuana batted aside attacks from two Picts and staggered one with a furious slice. Xacksmith dropped the heron feathers and drew his bow, piercing a Pict with an arrow. Tullweim swung the greatsword recently picked up in Machk’s camp and landed 2 heavy blows on the unarmored savages. Dhak searched for an opening in the swarm of Picts but could find no safe egress to Sagoyaga.

Cuana tore through a Pict’s belly with his blade, shorn the head off another, and split a third’s skull like a ripe melon. The Cimmerian tried to maneuver closer to the Paramount Chief but Sagoyaga’s wolf lunged at Cuana, sinking its teeth deep into the barbarian’s leg. The beast had not the strength to trip the Cimmerian though, and was met with a gash down its side. Tullweim was assailed by 2 greatsword wielding savages, not even his hauberk could completely turn those heavy blades as they tore through his flesh. Xacksmith rapidly fired 3 arrows into the melee and though the close proximity of his allies kept all 3 from landing, 2 found their mark and felled a Pict warrior. Dhak rushed to Sagoyaga and swung the staff which seemed to writhe in the Stygian’s hands, seeking its quarry. But the Paramount Chief uncannily dodged the attack and responded with several swings of his club and hatchet, which rattled the Stygian, despite the expenditure of sorcery to deflect the weapons. Determined to get to Sagoyaga, the indomitable Cimmerian charged forward, taking several arrows in the process, and slashed into the Paramount Chief’s side. Sagoyaga responded with sorcery of his own and Cuana felt his own body bloodied instead. 2 mighty swings of the Aesir’s greatsword sliced a Pict in twain as Dhak again tried to strike Sagoyaga with Dekanawidah’s staff, which impossibly bent as if alive, and again the Paramount Chief easily danced aside.

A rain of arrows fell and more Picts closed around the adventurers howling for their blood. Even with many savages guts spilled on the forest floor, the sheer number of Picts threatened to overwhelm the party. Tullweim managed to bring another down as Cuana attempted to shake off the wolf. Xacksmith stayed to the rear, firing death with every opportunity. Dhak felt Sagoyaga’s club again and again, and battered as he was he stepped away from the Paramount Chief and wove his necromantic arts to raise several of the dead Picts to fight for him. Many of the savages abandoned the fight once they saw the cold eyes of their fallen brothers grope for their flesh. Sagoyaga himself was given pause but the sight of the terror only enraged the Paramount Chief and his attacks on the Stygian increased with a berserker’s fury. As had happened to him in the past, Cuana could not steel his nerves against the sheer blasphemy of seeing corpses he had just sent broken to the ground with their guts hanging out shambling, and he too fled the battle. With the Cimmerian gone, Tullweim attacked the wolf which had harried Cuana with a fierce savagery, and his greatsword brought the wounded beast down with 2 sweeping slashes, then the Aesir turned his attention to the Paramount Chief.

The risen Picts slammed their dead arms into those who fled from them and had routed most of the camp away. One had grabbed a still-living Pict and was slowly squeezing his head together when the sorcery which animated the abominations ceased and the creatures again became the silent dead. The enraged Sagoyaga brutally struck again at the Stygian who was about to fall from the many wounds he’d received. Xacksmith sunk one of three arrows fired into the Paramount Chief’s hide and Tullweim followed up with a leaping charge, but still the Wolf Pict fought on. Cuana had finally shaken the terror which had overcome him and made his way stealthily to where he could hear his companions battle. All the adventurers could barely stand from the many wounds they’d received that day. Their vision was blurred and their swings were wide. Yet somehow, Dhak had managed to drop Dekanawidah’s staff and draw his bow. With all the strength he could muster he pulled back hard on the string and released an arrow into Sagoyaga’s neck. With a heavy thud, the Wolf Pict who had inspired thousands to slaughter the Hyborians on the Westermarck fell. The staff at Dhak’s feet ceased its writhing and the leaf which had shown as that from a living tree shriveled and died. With this, every Pict which had gathered to besiege Velitrium somehow knew their war chief was dead and fled into the wilderness from which they’d come.

Hail to the Heroes!

After Tullweim collected the Paramount Chief’s head the battered adventurers slowly made their way to the fort of Velitrium. They arrived several hours after leaving Sagoyaga’s camp and were questioned by the frightened soldiers on the walls who expected an attack at any moment. A showing of the Wolf Pict’s head brought loud cheers and the party was welcomed into the fort as heroes. In the weeks following the victory glory and honor were heaped upon the small band. Poets composed epics of their trials, drink flowed freely, and women let their desire to spend an evening with the heroes known. With plans to rebuild the fallen settlements the adventurers were told streets would be named after each of them. Certainly children would be named after the 4 brave warriors for years to come. The only trouble to be had was from Cuana’s heavy heart. The Cimmerian asked everyone he encountered in Velitrium of Hema and her sister, but no word had been heard. Many had been lost in the Pict’s belligerent war but Cuana held onto hope the Bossonian woman had found sanctuary east of the Westermarck and kept the purple scarf she had given him dear to him.

The highest honor to the adventurers came nearly 7 weeks after their great victory. Late in the morning the adventurers were awoken by a commotion outside their rooms. They each answered a rapping at their door, and in the lancing morning sunlight stood a soldier in the armor of the king’s own Black Dragons. They were each told king Conan himself awaited them in the governor’s hall. The adventurers quickly threw on their clothes and bid the previous night’s companions farewell. They followed the Black Dragon into the fort’s square, where a contingent of soldiers and more of the king’s royal guards stood at attention. Trumpets blared as the adventurers were led into the governor’s hall where every official of the Aquilonian crown in Velitreum awaited them. But all eyes were drawn to a mighty figure who sat in the middle of the hall. There was no mistaking the massive frame of the black-haired and sullen-eyed figure of the Cimmerian king of Aquilonia, Conan the Usurper. The adventurers bowed and the king quickly bade them to rise. He thanked the adventurers for the services done to his country not only in the Westermarck but also in the capital city of Tarantia. The king said he would be honored to have men of such indomitable spirit as knights of his realm and the adventurers gladly accepted. The knighting ceremony was followed by a great banquet with the finest of wines served by the comeliest of serving wenches all brought by wagons from the capital. The revelry lasted the entirety of the day and into the night as the adventurers told their tales to the king and Conan told the riveting tales of his adventures in the Fires of the South. Despite the copious amounts of wine imbibed, memories of that day and night would long live as a source of great pride in the minds of the 4 warriors.

flatscan

01-09-2010, 04:49 PM

Chapter 11 Session 1

Taking the Dagon’s Valour

It was a chance comment of Cuana’s to King Conan in Velitrium which had led the Cimmerian, Dhak, Tullweim, and Xacksmith to sail a road of blood and slaughter in the Western Ocean. Cuana casually let it known that his wanderlust desired something different. The barbarian also let the King of Aquilonia know of the troubling behavior of his companions, the Stygian had always been a black-hearted fiend but the Aesir’s continued practice of carving into his arms was most troubling. Conan said he knew the solution to all that ailed Cuana. He told tales with great mirth followed by great melancholy of how he sailed as Amra the Lion, and the mighty battles on the high seas he took part in. The Cimmerian King stated he knew a man in Messantia by the name of Argentio who could get the adventurers onto a pirate ship but warned they should take care and not let their names be known as it could have deadly repercussions if a powerful merchant sought vengeance for booty lost. And so Cuana told his fellows of the King’s offer and all agreed. The Cimmerian would be known as Malleus, the Aesir would take the alias of Hollan, the Hyrkanian as Cortos, and the Stygian would be called Abizar. The adventurers set out to the capital city of Argos, Messantia, the very next day.

In Messantia the adventurers met Argentio, a fat merchant who had introduced them to a pirate named Balthazar, captain of the ship, Dagon’s Valour. Balthazar was not keen on admitting land-lovers to his vessel but it was obvious Argentio had some hold over the captain and within a few days the adventurers were surrounded by glistening blue waters as far as their eyes could see. They had several weeks of riding the swells and looting fantastic ships which carried fortunes in cargo to and from distant lands. In the beginning of their seaborne adventures the party were considered lowly deckhands and spent their time scrubbing the deck and performing menial chores while most of the veteran crew did little but lie about and drink. Some hazing had taken place but a cracked skull or two caused by the now bearded Aesir and massive Cimmerian had quickly put the practice to an end. Tensions on the ship had increased in the last few weeks as Balthazar had stayed clear of all known shipping lanes for some time. And though there were several merchant ships seen, the order to attack was never given. The captain had set his crew on a course with an unknown destination.

Hollan had been scrubbing the deck along with Malleus for hours and still could not get relief as the ocean spray continued to splash and it seemed there was always some knew mess to mop up. The Aesir finally lost his remaining calm when he saw a drunken pirate resting against the railing stumble and spill his drink. Hollan growled, lifted the man up and shoved his scrubbing brush into his chest yelling it was time he did some cleaning. The action was not missed by the keen hawk eyes of the ship’s bosun who angrily shook his coiled whip under the northman’s nose and insisted he do his duty or be tied to the mast and lashed. The Aesir snarled as he pushed the startled drunk down and returned to furiously scrubbing the deck. The bosun watched for a moment, then left below deck at a summons from the captain. Both Hollan and Malleus heard fresh grumbling from the rest of the crew. The Barachan pirates believed themselves to be near Stygian waters and were growing restless at the lack of bloodshed and loot. The Cimmerian made note to question the crew about the captain’s strange behavior and continued with his cumbersome labor.

As darkness fell upon the Dagon’s Valour, the crew prepared for bed. With no officers around talk and drink flowed freely. Malleus struck up a conversation with 3 of the Barachan pirates and learned they believed the captain had lost his nerve. Their displeasure at steering clear of even the easiest of targets to plunder had set them on edge. Malleus agreed, stating his own dissatisfaction at cleaning decks instead of spilling blood. The Cimmerian knew the attitude of these 3 was widespread among the crew and he wanted them to know whose side he was on should an opportunity present itself. Nobody said the word ‘mutiny’ yet, but the desire was easily seen. Abizar too was getting noticeably agitated. It had been some time since his last sacrifice to his demon master and the Stygian knew he would pay dearly if he did not quell Dekanawidah’s insatiable appetite. Abizar had noted one of the crewman with a penchant for drunkenness who boasted of having tried a variety of lotuses captured from vessels to the south. The Stygian whispered to the crewman that he had some opium and was looking to find a safe place to get lost in it. The crewman’s eyes widened and he told Abizar to meet him in the cargo hold in a half hour after the rest of the crew was asleep or too drunk to notice.

At the prescribed time Abizar slunk out of bed with his sword strapped to him and a small parcel of opium in hand. Stealth was hardly necessary but the Stygian’s catlike eyes were needed to avoid stumbling over the many wastrels on the floor. He arrived at the cargo hold which had laid woefully light for many nights now. As he stole further into the hold he heard a faint call for him to step closer. There was little light but Abizar could see one form standing about 50 paces in front of him and cautiously moved towards the figure. Just as the Stygian came within a few feet of the pirate 2 skulkers leapt from their hiding places and drove their poniards deep into the sorcerer’s side. The third pirate rushed forward but Abizar deflected his poniard with a desperate invocation. The Stygian drew his arming sword and struck twice with such finessed point control as to pierce the same wound on one of his attackers, bringing him to the floor with a death rattle. The others stabbed twice with their weapons but with a show of intricate swordplay Abizar was able to deftly parry both. The next lunge by the Stygian caught one of the pirates squarely in his chest, the point of his blade piercing clear through to the man’s back.

Abizar turned to the remaining Barachan with a steely gaze and his sword pointed at the pirate’s throat. It was no coincidence the last foe standing was the one which the Stygian had told of the opium. The pirate quickly dropped his weapon and pleaded for his life, claiming he was a victim at the mercy of his vices. Abizar shushed the man and placed his hand firmly against his face. The Stygian smiled as he saw the pirate’s eyes grow wide between Abizar’s fingers as his senses were robbed to power the sorcerer’s mystical might. Abizar called out in the demonic speech of his master and offered the Barachan as a sacrifice as he plunged his sword in the unconscious man’s form causing a spray of blood to hit the Stygian’s face. Knowing he would need to dispose of the evidence of his blasphemous deed Abizar used the power absorbed from his victim to cause the dead to rise. He then peeked out the cargo door and once he saw it was clear ordered the shambling corpses to the deck. In the moon’s light 3 corpses threw themselves over the railing while a necromancer chuckled painfully and clutched his side.

The Stygian stole back down to the crew’s quarters and made his way to Malleus’ side. He quietly woke the Cimmerian and asked for aid in stitching his wounds. The tired barbarian pushed Abizar aside stating it was too dark to do anything and he’d likely do more harm than good. The Stygian miserably grunted his understanding and returned to his bed holding a rolled up shirt taken from one of the slain Barachans against his wound. It felt like only a few short hours had passed when the crew were all awakened and ordered on deck. Abizar searched for a different shirt to wear, fearing to go above deck in his slashed and bloodied top. He quickly found one in the chest of the pirate he’d sacrificed while the rest of the crew raced up deck. The sun’s light was dim over the horizon and the pirates were up much earlier than they expected to be. Captain Balthazar stood in a demeanor of obvious anger as he walked slowly down the line of sailors telling of the night lookout witnessing 3 crewmen jumping overboard the eve before. The captain intended to learn why they did such a thing, likely becoming shark food in the open ocean. As Balthazar spoke the Stygian appeared on the deck and got into line in a grubby shirt stained with weeks of sweat. The captain shouted for the bosun to grab Abizar and tie him to the mast for his tardiness.

Malleus was about to intervene but a look from Hollan and the seeming indifference on Abizar’s face stayed him. The Stygian’s stolen shirt was torn from his back and his arms were tied to the mast. The bosun delivered 50 lashes with increasing anger as through an astounding show of willpower Abizar stoically took the beating. Finally Balthazar ordered the bosun to stop and release the Stygian. As this was being done Hollan stepped forward and hollered his displeasure at doing nothing but scrubbing decks when the pirates could be raiding. The captain rounded on the Aesir and grimly asked if he wished to join his friend on the mast. The bosun looked quite eager to use his whip again, positive he could get a squeal out of Hollan. The Aesir backed down but looks were exchanged among the crew. The captain seemed he would set back to interrogating the crew about the 3 men who’d given themselves to the ocean’s embrace when a call from the lookout shouted, “Land ho!” A grim smile came across Balthazar’s face and he shouted orders for the crew to prepare to make landfall.

The pirate crew had barely finished rowing their small crafts to the beach from the anchored Dagon’s Valour when Hollan shouted a challenge at the bosun to a death duel for his rank. The experienced sailor glowered at the Aesir as he rounded and both drew their weapons, the bosun’s cutlass looking as small and feeble as the officer himself when compared to the size of the Aesir with greatsword in hand. The combat was as brief as it was bloody as the bosun gashed a deep wound in the barbarian’s chest. In response, Hollan’s blade carved through the bosun twice as the white sands of the beach were stained red and the officer’s mangled flesh fell. The crew was as shocked at the outcome as the captain was enraged. Balthazar drew his weapon and shouted for Hollan to stand and deliver. The captain very quickly saw the error of his ways. Though he was a skilled pirate and seaman he was out-matched with the amount of sheer punishment Hollan could withstand and devastating wounds the northman’s greatsword imparted. Even the most grievous wounds Balthazar caused seemed to have little effect in the Aesir’s bearing.

The doomed captain cried out for aid and all the remaining officers closed on Hollan with swords drawn. With the pirate’s code so broken, Abizar, Cortos, and Malleus joined the melee. The captain and officers focused their strikes on the Aesir as they desperately tried to dodge his companions. It was not long before the officers fell to the finessed incisions of Abizar and Cortus and the rending strikes from Hollan and Malleus’ blades. In the brief moments of bloodshed the Aesir decided the captain was to remain alive and used the flat of his blade to knock the man down and rob him of his senses. Afterwards, Hollan turned to the rest of the crew and proclaimed himself captain, promising to begin actively raiding any vessels they came upon. An immediate cheer resounded from the sailors and the Aesir named Malleus as first mate, Abizar as the new bosun, and Cortos as the bosun’s mate. The Cimmerian and Hyrkanian quickly bandaged Abizar and Hollan’s wounds. Malleus then suggested a search for fruit, fowl, and fresh water and Hollan agreed saying not to travel far and sending a few of the men with the Cimmerian.

Hollan called out that the remaining crew could enjoy some leisure time on the beach as he grabbed the captain and dragged him from the beach with Abizar and Cortos following. They stopped a good 100 feet into the trees where it was believed none of the crew would hear. The Aesir ordered Abizar to rouse the captain and when the shaken man opened his eyes Hollan demanded to know what the purpose of bringing the Dagon’s Valour to this island was. With 2 swords held to him and a giant of a man standing before him with his sword in the ground Balthazar replied, “you dogs would not understand. ‘Twas a year ago this day in which my beloved wife Cassilda was killed. We had just fought off a Stygian warship and she’d been fatally wounded. With no other land nearby we beached here and I buried her on this island.” The adventurers were dubious of Balthazar’s words but then the former captain produced a pair of rings of exquisite beauty which he wore together with a chain around his neck. Balthazar explained it was their wedding bands and he kept them as a keepsake. Hollan nodded and told the former captain his fate would be to remain on this island for the rest of his days and if the Aesir ever saw the man again he’d kill him without a word.

Within the hour Malleus and crew arrived back at the beach. The Cimmerian’s skills as a woodsman had produced as good results as they could as the Barachan pirates carried a small bundle of fruit, a few dead birds, and a bucket of fresh water. Hollan ordered the crew to man their row boats and head back to the Dagon’s Valour. The Aesir smiled at having a group of men under his command again and his companions were glad they did not have to do any of the rowing on the return trip to the ship. None looked back on the lone figure who stood watching from the tree line and Balthazar’s hard face showed a wide smile. The former captain thought the fools who stranded him would make poor pirates if they could not see through such an obvious lie. He was certain the day would come when he would be off the island with that which he’d come to it for. And he was as sure the day would come when he’d find those fools again and repay them for their mutinous actions with his blade through their throats.

Ill Omens and the Wrath of the Driving Seas

The crewmen were ordered to take their meager supplies to the cargo hold and pull up anchor. When asked for a course, Hollan gritted his teeth knowing they’d slain the ship’s navigator so instead called to be taken in the opposite direction they’d sailed by. The Aesir hoped the chosen course would return them to Messantia or at the least put them through some shipping lanes with the promise of battle and loot. The thrill of the open ocean filled the adventurers as they were able to stand against the sea spray with thoughts of their newly won freedom and command. No longer would they answer to any man. They followed the road of the restless gull, as free as a vagrant breeze.

In the dwindling sunlight a cry from one of the Barachan’s roused the adventurer’s attention. The object of the pirate’s dismay was a crow landing on the figurehead of the ship. The look on the other crewman’s faces matched the man who’d seen the bird. Abizar whispered to Hollan a crow on the figurehead of a ship was considered an ill omen which meant the ship would sink in the near future unless it was slain. The Aesir ordered Cortos to kill the bird and the Hyrkanian responded with an arrow which looked to have hit true. Astonishingly one of the pirates shouted the bird still lived in the water! Malleus launched himself over the rail, intent on grabbing the bird and crushing it in his hard hands. The Cimmerian was ill prepared for swimming in the harsh current and swells of the open sea. Malleus lost sight of the crow between the lurching of the water and when he saw it again the bird was further than he expected, desperately using its damaged wing to attempt flight. The leather armor Malleus wore did not aid the barbarian in his struggle to swim and the violent pitch of water plunged his head under. He struggled to breach the water’s surface and when he did he could find no sign of the bird in the gathering gloom. Frustrated and exhausted from battling to remain afloat in the strong current the Cimmerian swam back to the now cursed Dagon’s Valour. The mood aboard the ship was as grim as a funeral’s pall.

The crew were anxious to know if the crow was slain. Malleus spoke of the bird’s mangled wing and of it floundering in the water. The Cimmerian pointed out it could not walk, swim, or fly and he was sure of its death which relaxed the superstitious pirates somewhat. Afterwards the adventurers traveled below deck to inspect their newly won chambers. All the adventurers enjoyed the space they could call their own. Cortos found a locked chest in his room and a few minutes with his pick opened it. Within he found a bit of silver and several gems. Abizar went into the dead navigator’s room and pored over the maps and star charts in an effort to make sense of it all. Hollan and Malleus simply opened up the bottles of liquor and went to sleep to the sounds of waves against the hull. For that night at least, the adventurers troubles were passed. But tomorrow was another day full of the promise of peril, plight and plunder.

The next morning quickly lapsed into midday as the party got used to running things on board. The promise of looting had done quite a bit for the mood of the crew, who worked with a refreshed demeanor. Rigging was inspected, boarding hooks and coils of rope were made ready, blades were sharpened, and sails were unfurled and angled for maximum speed. Early in the afternoon a ship which was soon identified as a Stygian warship was spotted. It too had spotted the Dagon’s Valour and was closing. By the profile the galley cut it was plainly seen to be a larger craft than the pirate ship, and the reputation of the Stygian navy was such as to make all on board nervous. Hollan quickly called out orders to flee. Though he knew the Barachans were eager to spill blood, the Aesir would rather it was of merchants as the cost in lives of fighting soldiers was like to be high. But the Stygian galley was powered not just by sails but by many slave rowers and continued to bear down upon the pirate ship.

A hail of arrows darkened the sky from the warship, their pointed ends driving deep and bringing many of the the pirates to their end. Few of the pirates had missile weapons but Cortos lifted his Hyrkanian bow and returned fire. A satisfied smile came upon his hardened face as he saw one of the Stygians fall into the depths below. Hollan called for the sails to be unmanned and for the men to ready their weapons as the warship slammed into the Dagon’s Valour. Regaining his feet, Abizar could see the writing on the side of their attacker’s vessel, naming the galley, Pa-Userukhet-enpa-Iumahu-Khesef, or The Wrath of the Driving Seas. Amid another volley of arrows, boarding hooks were thrown from the warship, and the Stygian soldiers stood at the ready with khopeshes drawn. The Stygians surged towards the Dagon’s Valour, steel flashed, and screams rang out as the Stygians were amazingly pushed back by the Barachans, emboldened by Hollan’s orders and the battle worthiness of his officers. Though the first attempt to board had been paid with a high cost of lives the Stygian captain ordered his men to push forward. Again the Stygians pressed onto the Dagon’s Valour’s deck, their curved blades slashing murderously, and again the battle starved pirates repelled them with a bloody swath.

The Stygian warship’s losses had been great and the fear of death showed in their eyes. Hollan roared out for the pirates to board the galley and the Barachans surged onto the Stygian deck cutting into their ranks. Malleus too leapt to the warship and in 3 vicious strokes slew as many enemy soldiers. Abizar and Cortos fired their bows from the Dagon’s Valour, felling the Stygians who tried to close on the Cimmerian. Hollan took advantage in the gap of Stygians the Cimmerian had created and stepped back to back with Malleus, driving the point of his greatsword out the backside of an attacker. With a few more sword swings delivered by the Barachans the Stygian soldiers were routed. Only one remained to attack. Dressed in the gear of the ship’s captain, the Stygian charged Malleus. The captain’s khopesh sliced into the Cimmerian’s shoulder and Malleus responded with a devastating sweep of his greatsword which opened the length of the captain’s torso. With hate in his eyes and blood gurgling in his throat the Stygian captain fell at the Cimmerian’s feet. One last Stygian cowered before the pirates. The man wore priestly garments and raised his hands pleading to be spared. Abizar rushed to the barbarian’s side and bid them stay their hand. The sorcerer stated simply a priest of Set could be of some use to the party. Malleus nodded and Hollan shouted the galley was theirs. A loud cheer rose from all directions and the Aesir shouted orders to recover any goods the warship held.

flatscan

01-18-2010, 03:43 PM

Chapter 11 Session 2

To Rest on an Unknown Isle

Abizar asked the priest of Set his name and was told the Stygian was called Khonsirdais. The sorcerer then asked why the Dagon’s Valour was attacked. Khonsirdais shook his head and said Captain Iufenamun acted against the priest’s wishes. The Captain had spoken of once serving on a vessel which was pirated by the Dagon’s Valour in the past which resulted in a major setback to his career. Sighting it again after all those long years had enraged the Captain and he had decided to sink the ship as some form of revenge. Abizar smiled and said the priest was better off sailing with them. He then asked Khonsirdais where the galley was headed. The priest spoke of having hired Captain Iufenamun’s ship to take him to a nameless isle. Khonsirdais showed Abizar a map he possessed and said he suspected great treasure to be found there. The Stygian sorcerer called Hollan to see the map the priest held. It took little convincing for the Aesir to decide to set a new course but Hollan demanded possession of the map. Seeing no other option the priest handed the scroll to Abizar.

Meanwhile, Cortos and Malleus were debating what to do with the remaining Stygians and their Kushite slaves on the Wrath of the Driving Seas. The Cimmerian told the Stygians they could serve on the Dagon’s Valour or take their chances on their sinking galley. Several of the soldiers decided in that instant to throw away their careers and become pirates. Cortos then turned his lockpicks to freeing the chained slaves. A few precise turns and the bolts were undone. Unable to speak in the Kushites tongue, the Cimmerian ordered one of the Stygians to translate what the barbarian said. Malleus offered freedom to live an ardent life of slaying and looting on the Dagon’s Valour to the Kushites. Used to endless rowing and a whip’s kiss on the Stygian galley the former slaves all cheered in agreement. Once the new crew were aboard the Dagon’s Valour, Hollan chose a Kushite named Hajaga to be the spokesman for the Kushites and the Aesir chose the Stygian called Kehpfa to translate Hollan’s orders. The sails were again unfurled and the damaged ship sped with the wind.

The ship traveled for several days and the new crewmen served reasonably well. But with bloodthirsty men of action violence is inevitable. A fight broke out on the deck among some of the Kushites over a gaudy necklace taken from Captain Iufenamun’s corpse. Abizar was annoyed his conversation with Khonsirdais regarding the mysteries of Set was interrupted. The Stygian threw powder from a pouch which gave off a brilliant flash of blue light, stunning the Kushites. Malleus then grabbed 2 of the dazed men and unceremoniously tossed them overboard. Hajaga and Kehpfa quickly ran to the Cimmerian’s side and the former Stygian soldier translated the Kushite’s words. Hajaga pleaded for Malleus to spare two of the Kushites who were tribesman. The Cimmerian said he would, but if there was another incident among them, Malleus would toss Hajaga overboard with them. The Cimerian’s point made, their was no further quarreling to be had.

Six days after the encounter with the Wrath of the Driving Seas the lookout called out at seeing jade cliffs and silver sands. Several islands could be seen in the distance, two of the islands were connected by a rope bridge several hundred feet above the water. Hollan called out to have the ship steered into the harbor between the islands, then gazed out upon the naked morning lands. Suddenly the surface of the water was broken in an explosive blast of brutality and violence. A creature, gray in color with a blunt head, covered in many gaping bloodless wounds which showed great bleached white bones, surged towards the ship in a charging strike. Many of the crew who witnessed the creature could not keep their wits about them and tore at their hair in the despair of the mad. Hollan shouted for all who could do so to change the ship’s bearing to meet the creature and brace for impact. But the ghost whale was too fast and the blasphemous creature rammed into the ship’s flank. The deafening impact caused the Dagon’s Valour to lurch in the water and all aboard lost their footing as ropes and debris tumbled several of the Barachan’s over the gunwale.

The ship leaned at a perilous angle when the undead colossus was seen charging again. As the beast struck the ship, the main mast was ripped from the planks of the deck, and several more pirates were knocked into the air. Khonsirdais was almost forcibly sent overboard as well but the Aesir managed to grab hold of him, bracing himself with his fingers dug into a hole in the deck. Malleus could hear the ramblings of the Kushites shouting frantically in their alien tongue. Abizar and Cortos regained their footing and fired their bows at the risen goliath as it circled. Both experienced archers hits were true, but the massive horror did not alter its course nor even seem to notice the bolts in its side. Hollan knew the ship was lost and simply yelled for everyone to brace themselves. The ghost whale struck the ship at the center of its port side. The deck buckled upward underneath the pirates feet. Planks snapped like toothpicks and the steel which held the timber together groaned. Water rushed thunderously and the rigging and mooring chains snapped and shredded as the masts toppled. Amidst the sounds of destruction were the screams of the Barachans and Kushites as they were thrown or smashed by the chaotic destruction.

Once again the undead terror charged, Hollan cried out for all to abandon ship as he leapt into the waters followed closely by his companions. The ghost whale rammed into the side of the ship with tremendous force, tearing the Dagon’s Valour in two. The adventurers swam as quickly as their thews could manage in the turbulent waters. Behind them the two halves of their ship sunk and the beast which sunk it opened its maw to swallow many of the pirates. The adventurers heard the screams of terror of the men who had served them as they disappeared down the behemoths’ gullet. The party doubled their efforts towards the closest shore, which was of the smaller island from Khonsirdais’ map. Finally they’d reached land and scrambled onto the beach, huffing as their strained lungs tried to fill themselves again. As they gained their feet they could hear more screams from the waters, though no sign of the gargantuan monstrosity was seen. Instead, fins cut along the water around a growing pool of crimson as men were dragged below. The adventurers had all seen sharks in the waters previous to this event and all knew there was no hope of anyone getting away from the creatures. Abizar sullenly voiced a prayer to Set for the soul of the fallen priest.

The Siren’s Call

Hollan shouted curses to the heavens for the ill fortune which had struck the party. Abizar and Malleus let the Aesir rant for a minute, then brought his attention to the map the Stygian carried. Though their ship and crew were lost they had arrived at the their destination. As such the adventurers decided it best to survey the area and pantherishly stalked the length of the shore. Along the sandy strip of white beach a ship was found. It appeared to be a Stygian craft with the name Neferrenpet painted on its side. A massive fracture in the hull was found which dashed any hope of using the vessel to leave the islands without major repair first. Inside the ship were spoiled provisions as well as various tools but no sign of the crew. Cortos and Malleus took some of the tools and the adventurers left the wreckage to search the rest of the isle. As they traversed the island they saw several large rock spires which soared out of the water near the beach. Behind the white beach rose towering cliffs overgrown with tropical vines and plants, giving them a jade appearance. After an hour of walking the party arrived at the location on the map, but what the adventurers saw perched on a rocky outcropping where the ‘X’ indicated was not what they expected. There stood a beautiful woman, perfect in shape, voluptuous and pert.

The woman’s eyes gazed upon the party with a lascivious and mocking look upon them. Her pale blue skin was both alluring and wonderful; a realm of softness beckoning to be explored and pursued. When she spoke, her soft voice was vibrantly intense, a voice which poets might ascribe to a fresh rose or an alluring sunset. Only Cortos was mesmerized by the woman’s call and began walking towards her. To the Hyrkanian, it seemed as if the very wind which came out of the east beckoned him on to the alluring woman. Abizar, recognizing the danger, notched an arrow to his bow, pulled back the string and released. The bolt pierced the siren in the shoulder and the demon let out a furious screech which dislodged her hold on Cortos. As close as the Hyrkanian was he could see the creature for what she truly was, a scaled demon in female form. Both barbarians charged the siren, their greatswords shearing swaths of green ooze from the creature. The Stygian let fly another arrow but the siren vanished before it could land. Only empty air remained in the space where the demon had once stood. The Cimmerian swore, suspecting some trick, but after several minutes of searching the adventurers could find no sign of the creature who had tried to bewitch them.

With no enemy in sight, Abizar and Cortos decided to search the dark cave which loomed nearby. The Stygian and Hyrkanian plunged into the waters and swam to the entrance, but found it to be only a shallow outcropping of rock carved out by centuries of pounding tides. The only objects they found were piles of human remains among the seaweed and brine. Malleus looked on at the cave awaiting the return of his companions when he heard the enchanting voice again. Startled, the barbarian turned and he beheld the siren in all her terrible beauty. Her vibrant song ringing in his ears, Malleus lost the will to fight and dropped his sword. With a pixie smile the devil-woman promised any indiscretion the Cimmerian desired as the barbarian passionately embraced her. Hollan roared as he charged forth to dislodge the demon from his friend. But before the Aesir could reach them the siren fell back from the outcropping with Malleus in her arms to the clammy waters below. As they plunged into the depths the siren’s lips were locked onto the Cimmerian’s as she kissed his breath away. Malleus slipped into a peaceful slumber uncaring of the water filling his lungs.

Abizar and Cortos arrived to the outcropping to see Hollan dive and furiously swim towards the plummeting figures. The Hyrkanian wasted no time to appraise the situation and immediately followed the Aesir into the water. The witch kept her eyes cast up towards the rocks and saw her pursuers. The siren could naturally swim with great alacrity but holding onto the massive barbarian slowed her. The two adventurers closed with blades in hand and the demon narrowed her eyes with a rabid gaze. Once the Aesir and Hyrkanian were mere feet from the siren they poised their weapons to strike. The malignant spirit released the Cimmerian, let out a deranged bellow of savage loathing and once again vanished from the mortal realm. The waters were then calm and the Aesir grabbed hold of Malleus and rushed to the surface. Abizar and Cortos helped Hollan haul the Cimmerian out of the water and the Stygian forced the fluids out of Malleus. All were relieved when with a pained gasp the addled barbarian opened his bloodshot eyes.