Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

Are you happy now!?!

Hey Talien are you happy I finally got a freaking account!!! LOL

I wanted to see how much you posted...Wow its crazy to read all that old stuff... as I was reading I couldn't help noticing our Levels, How the heck did we survive all that madness... and then I considered where we are now and I think I'd rather be back with that Island with the harvisters, rather than on the island we' re on now, looking for what we' re looking for. Man!!

-Kham

Chapter 13: Death in Freeport - Introduction

This is the first in the Freeport series of modules, "Death in Freeport," written by Chris Pramas and (loosely) set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at http://www.onaraonline.org. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

· Kham Val’Abebi(val rogue/psychic warrior) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://www.ninjarobotstudios.com)
· Vlad Martell (human ftr3) played by Matt Hammer
· Ilmarė Galen (elf brd5) played by Amber Tresca
· Naruis Drilian (human rog1/rgr2) played by Mike Best

Michael Tresca (that’s me) was Dungeon Master for this session.

I wasn’t sure how this would go, given that it’s not our usual tournament type adventure. The good news is that it went just fine.

This was one of those instances where the party really clicked. At one point, the party’s synergy comes together in such a way that you could feel everything lock into place. Which is pretty amazing, given that Mike had just joined us. Thanks to combined efforts of the rogue types, they managed to pull off an incredible heist. All that, and they unearthed a cult too!

This adventure was upgraded to make it suitable for their level (normally, this adventure is for 1st level PCs). I replaced the relatively weak serpent people from the Freeport adventure with Ssanu from the Ssethregore supplement. I discovered three of them in one adventure is plenty!

This is the first true city adventure without a linear plot that our group played. As a result, in most cases the party needed a little prodding to move in the right direction. Also, there are quite a few red herrings (everyone was positive the staff had something to do with Lucius), and since we play in four-hour blocks it was critical that the adventure keep moving. The good news is that it did.

There was intrigue, role-playing, plenty of grandstanding, lots of amazing rolls and best of all, stuff for Vlad to chop up at the end!

Death in Freeport - Part 1: The Press Gang

Nauris Drilian stepped off of the Shrike. Or rather, he hopped off it after the crazy pirate captain threatened to make him sing a song to “prove he was all right.”

Dril was dressed in a full body cloak, the hood of which concealed his features. He scanned the docks. The note he had taken off the impostor’s body spoke of a “pit” in Freeport. If there were other Ssanu posing as Altharins, Dril planned to root them out.

The action on the docks was mesmerizing. There were ships in port from all over the world, carrying every manner of exotics goods. Sailors and merchants of all races and backgrounds mingled on the wharves; money changed hands so fast he could barely even follow it. The sights and sounds were so overwhelming that he almost didn’t notice a group of men gathering around him.

Dril’s hand darted under his cloak to his scimitar, which he had taken off the Shining Patrol impostor.

They were all scarred and crusty sailors armed with saps and belaying pins. The leader of the scurvy dogs, a toothless man with tattooed knuckles, smiled crookedly.

“You’ve just volunteered for an exciting life at sea,” he cackled. “Do you want to go the easy way or the hard way?”

“I just got off a boat,” said Dril through clenched teeth. “I don’t intend to get back on it.”

The crowd parted around them, but no one moved to help.

“Oh I don’t think you understand,” said Toothless. “I’m not asking. Well, okay I was asking. But you don’t have a choice.”

He was surrounded. There were men behind him, slapping saps into open palms. Dril crouched slightly, feeling the comforting touch of his dagger against his right thigh.

Dril’s other hand ducked under his cloak. “You’re making a mistake.”

Toothless’ sap whistled towards Dril’s head, but it never connected. The wicked point of a scimitar blade protruded from the grizzled sailor’s back.

Then everything became a blur. Dril’s other hand slashed upwards, slitting a sailor’s throat open.
Flashes of pain reverberated across Dril’s back and shoulders, but none struck his head. He considered himself lucky. Hi whirled, his cloak snapping into the faces of those behind him. He crouched down and away, making himself as small as possible. Two sailors fell for it. They advanced, saps raised high, only to find unforgiving steel in their bellies.

Dril rose like a ghost from docks, his cloak slithering backwards off the blood and corpses. “Anyone else?” he asked, breathing hard.

The remaining sailors turn and fled. Dril sheathed his weapons as a large man in full plate armor clanked awkwardly down the docks towards him.

“That’ll teach them to pick on newcomers,” he said with a smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Dril. “They made me an offer.” He looked down at the corpses at his feet. “I refused.”

“Then perhaps you will take this offer instead,” said a man behind them.

Both of them turned to see a slight, bearded man in robes. “And who are you?” asked Dril.

“Where are my manners? I’m brother Egil. Are you with Kaiyem?”

“Who?” asked Dril.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Egil. “I thought because you were an Altherian that you were with my friend. I sent him an urgent message.”

“Kham,” Vlad said the name slowly, because he was no longer sure if he was saying it correctly, “told us to meet him at the Pale Plate.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Perhaps we should talk there.”

“Yes,” said Egil. He turned to Dril. “If you are true to your Altherian brothers, you might be interested in what I have to say.” His eyes darted to the long, covered rod that was strapped beneath Dril’s cloak across his back.

“You’re a priest of Althere?” Egil nodded. “Then I will listen.”

They stepped over the bodies as looters darted in, stripping the bodies bare and tossing the corpses off the pier.

“Is Kaiyem at the Pale Plate?” asked Egil.

“Not yet,” said Vlad. He looked embarrassed. “I’m not sure where he is…”

Egil nodded sagely. “He’s probably hung over.”

“So you know him,” said Vlad.

Death in Freeport - Part 2: An Offer of Employment

Kham stumbled into his old stomping grounds, the Pale Plate, more than a little hung over. When he entered, everyone stopped talking: the Illirian priest sermonizing to the half-conscious drunk, the two mercenaries talking heatedly in the corner, the bartender wiping the bar, and his erstwhile adventuring companions.

The bartender nodded to Kham. Kham nodded back.

Before he joined Ilmarė, Vlad, Dril, and Egil, a barmaid placed an orange-colored drink in a glass before the remaining empty seat.

“Kaiyem! You came!” said Egil, rising to his feet. “My friend, it has been a long time. I’m glad you got my message.”

Kham stumbled into the seat. “Yeah, hi.”

“You’ve been here before, I take it,” Ilmarė said coolly.

Kham waved at the beautiful Elorii, his mind too fogged over to make even a witty retort. His hand returned to his forehead. The other reached for his drink.

Egil sat again. “As I was saying, a librarian from my temple disappeared. You remember Lucius, don’t you Kaiyem?”

Kham grunted.

“I’m concerned that evil may have befallen him. I’m willing to offer you 50 Imperials, 10 now and 40 on completion of the mission if you can find him and return him to the Temple of Althares.”

“Why can’t your…priests find him?” said Ilmarė, sneering at the word “priests.”

“It’s complicated,” said Egil. “After Brother Oriku’s betrayal, I suspect the Temple has been infiltrated by spies. I’m not sure whom I can trust there. But I know Lucius, and I know he would not just abandon his duties.”

“It’s either booze, a woman, or he’s dead,” said Kham. “One of the three, I’m betting.”

“It’s not like Lucius,” said Egil. “We all take vows of abstinence and poverty upon joining the Temple.”

“And that’s why I’m not a priest of Althares,” said Kham.

“I will provide you with any information I can,” said Egil. “Will you help?”

Dril’s eyes brightened as Egil plopped 10 Imperials in four stacks before him. “I’m in,” he said.

Vlad took his coins. “Me too.”

Ilmarė smiled. “I killed the first traitor,” she said sweetly. “I will be happy to kill more of the traitorous priests of your false gods.”

Egil blinked uncertainly at the Elorii.

“You know I’ll help,” Kham said to Egil. He looked over at Dril, adjusting his purple lenses. “Would anyone mind telling me who this guy is?”

talien said:

Egil nodded sagely. “He’s probably hung over.”

“So you know him,” said Vlad.

Click to expand...

ROFL!

It's true, Kham has a drinking problem. Believe it or not, that's the least of his vices.

In one adventure, he went through most of it totally stoned. In the most recent chapter (I think we're up to chapter 34), he was blitzed out of his mind.

That's our Kham...always contributing his full 10% to the party!

How was he to know... everyone wanted to know what the potion did… they didn’t have time to get it checked and it was in the guys bed room. How was Kham suppose to know it was an addictive hallucinagenitic drug… Opps.. Don’t blame him.. he is a man of action… besides he is too busy saving he world to bother saving himself. But that is yet to come, I don’t want to ruin anything.

Death in Freeport - Part 3: House of Lucius

They made their way towards Lucius’ home to look for clues as to his whereabouts.

“Whatever happened to Lucius?” asked Kham as they walked through the winding streets of Drac’s End. “I haven’t seen him for over five years.”

“Something strange,” said Egil. “One day Lucius was my friend of many years and the next he was a complete stranger. He asked bizarre questions, seemed to remember nothing of our friendship, and treated the temple like his own personal library. A few months later he was caught violating the sanctum and was expelled from the temple. Shortly thereafter, he left Freeport entirely.”

“And then he showed up four years later?” asked Dril.

Egil nodded. “When Lucius reappeared, he was like his old self. He came to the temple and begged to be readmitted. He said that he had no memory of the previous five years. Thuron, our high priest, was adamant about refusing Lucius’ petition, but he changed his mind after a private meeting with him.”

“Curious,” said Ilmarė.

“Lucius returned to the temple and for a little while at least, it was just like old times. But after a few months, he started having problems sleeping. Then Lucius began asking questions about what he had been like right before his expulsion, as if he didn’t remember any of it. I was worried he was going insane. Two days ago, Lucius failed to come to the temple,” said Egil. “I went to Lucius’ home.” He nodded at the small dwelling before them. “It was empty, but you’re welcome to look.”

“Being a librarian’s not a lucrative job, is it?” asked Kham. He pushed the door open to Lucius’ small home.

Lucius’ home was only the ground floor, consisting of two rooms. A trapdoor led down to the basement. Kham and Ilmarė went downstairs while Dril and Vlad searched the main room.

Most of the main room was cluttered with books, scrolls, quills, inkpots, and other tools of the scholar’s trade. A cot was jammed into one corner, with a small desk under the front window.

“Anything?” Vlad shouted down the basement door.

“Nothing good,” said Kham.

Dril pawed through the books and scrolls. He picked up a title, “Of Dwarves and Men: The Lands of Onara,” and flipped through it. A note floated out from between the papers to the floor.

Vlad picked it up. “Hmm.” He handed it to Egil. “Does any of this make sense?”

Brother Egil looked at the note curiously. “Well, it does mention sleeping. Poor Lucius, he must have been exhausted. And he did have a fondness for turnips. But this last part, about visiting Captain Scarbelly—“

“Scarbelly?” asked Kham. He clumped back up the steps of the basement. “He’s bad news.”

Egil nodded. “He’s the captain of the Bloody Vengeance. It’s crewed by orcs.”

“I have heard of this orc,” said Ilmarė. “He claims to have killed twenty nine men in hand-to-hand combat.”

Vlad slapped one hand on the hilt of his longsword. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t hit thirty.”

Death in Freeport - Part 4a: The Bloody Vengeance

The Bloody Vengeance was a crudely built orc ship, roughly 90 feet long. It was battle-scarred but seaworthy.

“Interesting,” said Dril, looking out the dirty window of the Rusty Hook. “No other ships are moored nearby.”

The ship’s sail was furled, but the crow’s nest held an orc lookout armed with a shortbow. Two other orcs guarded the gangway, their scowls and jagged swords encouraging passersby to keep walking.

Kham walked back from the bar to join them at the table. He spun a chair around to straddle it. “Captain Scarbelly deals in ‘safe transportation of items of importance’. So I figure I’ve got just the thing for him to transport.”

“Like what?” asked Vlad.

“Me,” said Kham with a grin.

“Kham,” said Ilmarė, her voice rising. “What are you up to?”

“I’m just going to take a tour of the Bloody Vengeance.” Kham nodded to Dril. Then both Altherins got up and left. Vlad and Ilmarė saw them head towards the orc ship when Kham suddenly disappeared.

A few seconds later, Captain Scarbelly came into the Rusty Hook. Or rather, he stumbled in along with four of his orc compatriots. He was a brooding hulk with straggly black dreadlocks and a tattered cloak. An axe hung from his belt in open view—no one seemed inclined to challenge him about it.

Scarbelly and his orcs sat down at a table, kicking drunken patrons out of the way. “Gimme sumtin’ t’eat!” he shouted.

The bartender hopped into action. Sloshing plates of gruel were slapped onto the table. Mugs of ale appeared in front of each of the orcs.

Scarbelly downed a mug in one shot. Foam dripped from his lower fangs.

“More!” he shouted.

The bartender brought another round of mugs. The second time, he whispered in Scarbelly’s ear.

Scarbelly turned to look at him. “What? Ye think this be a freakin' escort service? 'ere be dis guy?”

The bartender looked back to scan the crowd.

Ilmarė tensed up. “They’re looking for Kham.”

The orcs slurped their meals, practically taking bites out of the wooden bowls as they did so.

“Well?” shouted Scarbelly. “Ye get me all excited about some treasure an' now th' guy doesn’t show up?”

“If they get back to the ship while Kham is on it…” said Vlad.

Ilmarė closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I really didn’t want to have to do this.”

Vlad looked at her in bewilderment. “Do what?”

With a shout, Ilmarė hopped up onto their table. Throwing her arms wide, she began to sing:

“Oooooooh, WHO LIVES IN A GROTTO DOWN UNDER THE SEA?”

There was a moment of shocked silence. Then Scarbelly and his orcs began whooping it up. They sang back:

“LEV-I-A-THAN!”

Death in Freeport - Part 4b: The Bloody Vengeance

“So what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” said Kham, patting himself down until he found the potion he was looking for. “You must be new. I don’t do plans.”

“Okay,” said Dril. “Well, I can’t see you any more.”

Kham faded from site as a result of his invisibility potion.

“And here I thought our first date was going so well,” said Kham. “Keep the guards busy.”

Dril shook his head and slowly strode out to the dock where the Bloody Vengeance was anchored. There were two orcs standing guard at the end of the gangplank.

“Hey!” said one of them as Dril approached. “That’s far enough! Bugger off!”

“Easy,” said Dril, with his hands up. “I heard your Captain at the Rusty Hook talking about transporting items of importance. I’m new in town.”

“An’ I’m Lord Drac,” said the one orc. They broke into snorting laughter. “I don’t care who th' hell ye be, get ou' o' here.” He pointed his bow for emphasis.

“I may have something he’d be interested in transporting, but if you want to tell him you passed up on a thousand Imperials, that’s fine with me.” Dril turned to leave

“Wait,” said one of the orcs. “Th’ Capt’n does carry some stuff.”

“Like magic staves,” said the other orc.

“Shut up!” said the first orc. “Th' Capt’n told us nay t' tell anyone ’bout dat!”

The second orc ignored him. “So what do ye be havin' in mind?”

A light breeze wafted past Dril, stirring his cloak. “Nice plan,” whispered Kham. “Keep them busy. I’ll meet you back at the docks.”