Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
The City of Fraedlau, in the shadow of Faerdwalden, was not the place of healing and succor they had hoped. What was meant to be a sanctuary became a prison, as Duke Victor of Tralia ordered the city sealed to prevent the spread of the plague beyond its gates.
"I don't understand." Beldin pressed a damp cloth against Sebastian's forehead. "I thought the disease only affected sorcerers." The dark-kin had become deliriously feverish.
"That wouldn't be very effective now would it?" Ilmare's eyes scanned the room. “But the Sorcerer-King wants more sorcerers. Sending the disease to destroy them alone would be counterproductive. He must have created a strain that spreads from sorcerers to humans…” she sniffed. “And their ilk.”
The humans had changed from filthy, disgusting creatures to an angry mob of filthy, disgusting creatures. Cries of misery and death were everywhere.
The only lodging that remained within the city was the common room of an inn at the North Gate. Ilmare kept her back to one wall and arms at her sides; she didn’t trust humans in large numbers.
Kham sat by himself on a bar stool nearby; Vlad sat a seat over. The room was huddled with rough men of all stripes.
“I heard that sorcerers who get the plague explode,” said Hayden, a tanner. He was unremarkable except for one blue eye and one brown eye.
Hayden turned around to stare suspiciously at Sebastian’s unconscious body. “He ain’t a sorcerer, is he?”
Beldin met his gaze. “No,” he said firmly.
Paxton, a cooper who sat to Kham’s right, sneered. “Dark-kin probably got it from Canceri. They’ve been hurting since we beat them in the war.”
Vlad took a deep breath. He knew this was coming. After the Nierites had taken over Cancer, they marched on Milandir, only to be ferociously repelled. “We’ve been looking for healers. That’s why we came here.”
Bruno, a smith who sat to Vlad’s left, chuckled. “Word has it that the only servants of Beltine left anywhere near the city are the Sisters of our Lady’s Mercy. But their convent is in Faerdwalden. Not that you could get to it anyway.”
“The Duke trapped us in here so he could burn the city to the ground,” sneered Hayden, who sat between Vlad and Kham. He wore colored lenses, like Kham. “Just like in Brechau.”
Vlad arched an eyebrow and whirled on the man. “That’s ridiculous. Where did you hear that?”
Hayden hopped off from his bar stool. “Even know, Knights from Grozny Castle are marching to seal the city so that the Duke’s sentence can be carried out!”
“No wait a minute…” began Vlad.
“That’s right,” muttered Ilmare. “Next thing you know they’ll be storming the gates.”
“Yeah!” shouted Hayden. “I’m not going to let them just murder us and I’m not alone!” He whirled, sloshing a mug of watered-down mead. His arm was spotted with seeping buboes, a sure sign that Hayden was doomed like the rest. “Who’s with me?”
Raucous shouts joined Hayden’s. Men grabbed chairs and mugs, charging out into the street. Only too sick to move were left behind.
Ilmare shrugged as her companions fixed her with a stare. “What?”
“Next time you’re going to be sarcastic,” growled Beldin, “you might not want to do it in a crowded room.”
“You might want to be more concerned about the tanner,” said Ilmare. “His lenses slid off his nose for moment when he was shouting. Did you see his eyes?”
Kham shook his head. “No. Why?”
“He didn’t have any pupils.”
Kham hopped off his bar stool and drew his pistols. After checking to see that both were loaded, he left without another word.
“And that’s important because…” asked Vlad.
“Do you really want anyone to be like Kham?”
She didn’t have to say any more. Vlad drew his sword as he slid off the bar stool. “I’ll go get him.”
I Know Thee Brother: Part 1a – Rumblings of Insurrection
There was a great commotion outside. A large body of well-armed men shouted to the knights to open the city and let them out. The angry mob had gone home, trading clubs and fists for the trademark arms and armor of Milandisian cantons: halberds and leather.
Several of the men were obviously infected with the plague. Facing them was a hopelessly outnumbered force of the Duke’s knights led by a bright-red ss’ressen female.
“Return to your homesss!” she shouted. “The rumorsss are falssse. The duke isss an honorable and jussst man!”
Hayden whirled on the crowd. “My friends, can you not see that the Duke put a lizard in charge because he would not trust a Milandisian to slaughter his own countrymen?”
The young ss’ressen knight seemed taken aback, as if that was the last thing she would have expected to hear.
“I don’t see YOU with any signs of the plague!” shouted Hayden, extending a long, pockmarked arm. “Doesn’t affect you, does it?”
The ss’ressen took a step back. She knew words wouldn’t help.
Vlad closed his eyes for a moment and let out his breath with a deep sigh. “People are going to get seriously hurt. We have to do something.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kham shoved his way through the crowd towards Hayden. “Hey, you! Yeah I’m talking to you!”
Hayden faced him down as he approached. “You know, you don’t seem to have the plague either!”
“Calm down.” Kham kept his hands at his sides, but pistols were in his hands. “Vlad, say something that makes you sound important.”
Vlad cleared his throat. “I am Vlad Martell, Bailiff of Duke Adolphos val’Tensen, and I demand you stand down!”
The crowd roared its disapproval. Hayden jeered. “Let us out!” he began shouting. The crowd took up his chant.
Kham put a pistol to Hayden’s head and fired.
There was a blur of movement. Hayden moved, impossibly fast, anticipating the attack before Kham had even formulated it. It was an impulsive action, as all things were, but it was also a test of Hayden’s abilities.
For a split second everyone froze, horrified at what they had just witnessed. In the crowd’s eyes, the authorities had just fired the first shot.
The gesture was so violent that Hayden’s lenses fell from his face. Kham got a good look at him. The tanner’s pupils were pure white…just like Kham’s.
“Son of a—” was all Kham got out before the angry mob surged towards the gate.
I Know Thee Brother: Part 1b – Rumblings of Insurrection
The disciplined Knights of Tralia stepped in to deal with the disorganized canton. Halberds came crashing down on shields emblazoned with the white and red shields of the knights.
Kham drew Talon and Coombs’ dagger. Hayden hefted a Tralian hammer.
“Think you can just shoot me and be done with it?” snarled Hayden. “I’m not going to die like a dog in the street; if you want to put me down, you’ll have to do it with your own two hands!”
With both hands, Hayden swung the hammer in an arc over his head. Kham blocked it with scimitar and dagger but the blow rattled his teeth. His lenses fell from his nose, revealing the whites of the val’s eyes.
“Fine, you want to play like a val?” Kham skipped backwards at another swing. “Let’s play.”
Kham focused. A deep thrumming radiated from him and the world went white. He could see shapes moving in blurred, stuttering steps, perceiving where they were going before they got there. But this time there was something different.
Hayden looked exactly the same. He was not silhouetted in white like the others, but rather crystal clear. He had shifted into the same form of psychic perception that Kham was still learning to use. And he was just a normal human.
“Your mind tricks won’t work on me.” Hayden dodged left and right, shoving the head of the hammer into Kham’s chest. He reeled backwards in surprise, the wind knocked out of him. “I can move as fast as you can!”
To Vlad, Kham and Hayden had become a blur, moving in perfect locked step. They slammed together and then Kham was down on the ground.
“Don’t hurt him!” shouted Vlad, struggling to stop Milandisians from killing other Milandisians. “He’s sick!”
When the two combatants separated, many of the Milandisian cantons moaned and collapsed. Sores erupted on their skin. The Knights stopped struggling, staring in surprise at the formerly combative citizens. Then a knight fell to his knees.
The tanner loomed over Kham. He lifted the hammer overhead with scabrous arms.
“You’re fast,” said Kham. “But can you dodge a bullet?”
In a flash, Kham’s pistols were out. He fired two resounding shots.
The hammer spun out of the tanner’s hands and landed just shy of Kham’s head.
Undeterred, Hayden laced his fingers together for another blow…
There was a resounding crack as ss’ressen tail met human jaw. Hayden collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Crouched, with tail still extended, was Redmantle, the fiery-red ss’ressen.
Kham hopped to his feet. “Not bad,” he said grudgingly. “For a lizard.”
“Not bad yourssself,” the ss’ressen said with a wink. “The Sssissstersss of Our Lady’sss Mercy have sssent word that they have the meansss to cure the plague. We are taking the mossst ill to be healed. You ssshould come with usss.”
“Let’s get Sebastian and get out of here,” said Vlad.
Kham dusted himself off. “You’re in an awful rush.”
Vlad didn’t say anything. He just pulled up one sleeve of his tunic.
I Know Thee Brother: Part 2a – Our Lady’s Mercy Awaits You
They traveled northward into the dreary glade of the Faerdwalden. Even though Illiir shone in his glory of midday, the thick canopy of the forest filled the wood with shadow.
Vlad shook his head as he and Kham trudged along with Sebastian’s litter. “I can’t believe you shot Hayden.”
Kham peered over his shoulder. “The nut with the hammer? I didn’t shoot him. I shot AT him.”
They were walking along with the rest of the infected caravan, carrying litters of the sick and dying.
“There was no guarantee he would dodge the bullet.”
“I had to test his powers somehow.” Kham shrugged. “It seemed like the fastest way to find out at the time.”
“But he was out of his mind!” Vlad lowered his side of the litter.
Kham put the litter down and lowered his lenses to look Vlad in the eye. “Wow, you’re really upset about this, aren’t you? Look, the powers of the val are not something to be given lightly. I can barely control MY powers and I’m supposed to have them.”
“It would be just like the Sorcerer-King to twist the disease so that it gave humans val powers,” Ilmarė added. “With the disease running rampant there would be murder in the streets. Sort of like what we witnessed today.”
“That’s precisely why not everyone should have them,” Kham said with a sniff.
“Well I’ll tell you what I think: I think your high and mighty val powers made things WORSE. I saw those Milandisian cantons. I know they had the plague, but they were healthy enough to fight. It wasn’t until YOU used YOUR powers that they fell.”
“Are you feeling alright?” Kham put the back of his hand to Vlad’s forehead. “Got a fever?”
“Don’t touch me!” the Milandisian slapped Kham’s hand away.
“ENOUGH!” shouted Beldin. A hand axe whistled between them.
Past Kham and Vlad stood a man, dagger raised, over Sebastian’s prone form. Beldin’s hand axe protruded from his forehead. He fell backwards without a sound.
“While you two were bickering, one of the Milandisian zealots decided to try to put an end to the plague their own way, by trying to slit Sebastian’s throat.” Beldin pushed his way past Kham and Vlad.
“I was a guardian of humanity long before you two were even born.” Beldin walked over to the dead man and yanked the hand axe out of his forehead. “So here’s some advice: stop worrying about who caused the disease and start concentrating on a cure. Because Sebastian’s in trouble.” He pointed down at the dark-kin, whose clothes were soaked with sweat. “He’s not a Canceriman, a dark-kin, or a sorcerer. He’s our friend, and he needs our help. Let’s not lose sight of that.”
With a grunt, Beldin picked up the front end of the litter. After a moment of embarrassed silence, Vlad picked up the other end and they resumed their journey.
I Know Thee Brother: Part 2b – Our Lady’s Mercy Awaits You
They reached the Convent of the Sisters of Our Lady’s Mercy after a few hours. The nuns immediately began to treat the sick and separated them into groups in the convent’s courtyard based upon the seriousness of their condition.
After a short while, the Abbess walked out into the courtyard in the company of a man with a shaven pate. He wore brown robes of silk and three golden studs bound his beard.
There was a general gasp of astonishment.
“A Nerothian Canceriman, here?” Vlad said in surprise.
The Nerothian was shown great deference and honor by the Abbess. He walked among the ill speaking words of ritual that praised Neroth and supplicated his mercy. As he passed the poor victims of the terrible plague, his labored breath eases and several of them fell into slumber.
Beldin walked over to the Nerothian. “We were wondering if you could cure my friend here,” he pointed at Sebastian. The dark-kin was shivering beneath a pile of blankets.
“I vill get to as many as I can in due time,” said the Nerothian.
“There are others who need his ministrations,” snapped Abbess Halfrid val’Ishi. “Your friend is a sorcerer, is he not?”
Beldin looked around nervously. “Yes…”
“Then Petru val’Mordane must attend to the other first. The disease takes longer in those of the arcane arts.”
Petru walked off, resuming his chanting.
Beldin edged closer to the Abbess. “I’m concerned he may…explode.”
The Abbess’ lips became a thin line. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “We will get to him as quickly as we can. In the mean time, we will separate him from the others.”
Beldin arched a bushy eyebrow. “For our safety or his?”
I Know Thee Brother: Part 3a –Blinded by Prejudice
Shortly after dawn, Petru began his ministrations anew. The ill visibly improved as a result of his blessings, however heretical some thought them to be.
Petru strode over to where Vlad, Ilmarė, and Kham sat. “I believe I have saved de vorst cases. Vhere is your friend?”
“Beldin’s with him in a room not far from here,” said Vlad. “I’ll get—“
Ilmarė cocked her head. “What’s that?”
Then they all heard it. The sound of galloping hooves.
A small body of riders arrived at the Convent, led by a formidable looking knight of advanced years. He clucked his horse right into the courtyard. Redmantle followed behind.
The Abbess bowed to the knight. “Mighty General, how may we simple adherents of Beltine assist thee?”
General Oderic val’Tensen was accoutered in shining blue full plate. His magnificent warhorse was dressed in barding to match. A lance was in one arm a shield in the other. He was flanked by two other knights on horseback, similarly armed and armored in much less impressive fashion.
Oderic slapped his visor open. “Abbess Halfrid val’Ishi, explain yourself!” he demanded. “How could you bring this,” Oderic swung his lance to point at Petru, “our greatest enemy, into our midst? It is clearly he who has inflicted this great harm upon us!”
Ilmarė sighed. “Not this again.” She turned to Vlad. “You may want to leave Sebastian where he is for the moment.”
The Abbess put herself between Petru and Oderic’s lance.
Vlad walked over to them. “Now wait just a minute!”
The knight swung his lance to point at Vlad. “Who are you?”
Vlad drew himself up to his full height. “I am Vlad Martell, Bailiff of Duke Adolphos val’Tensen. This man you’re accusing of being a heretic has been healing the sick. I’ve seen it with my own eyes!”
“A ruse,” snarled Oderic, “merely to make you complacent as he spreads the plague further. The Canceri have been plotting revenge ever since we defeated their invading army. Besides,” he added, “you’re infected yourself. He’s already poisoned your mind.”
“Oh for Althares’ sake!” shouted Kham. He stood beside Vlad. “What is wrong with you people? Look around you? Would these women of Beltine harbor someone who caused a plague? They’re healers!”
“And who are you?” asked Oderic.
Kham lowered his lenses. “A val who knows better. Look, this is no normal ailment. It’s not like anything the priestess have seen. Hell, it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before, and I’ve seen a lot. So why don’t we all be reasonable and put down our lances—“
“Enough talk!” Oderic snapped his visor shut. “The Nerothian dies now!”
And with that, he kicked his warhorse into a charge.
I Know Thee Brother: Part 3b –Blinded by Prejudice
Kham rolled forward underneath the heavy warhorse, drawing Talon and Coombs’ dagger as he did so. He had to move fast; if the horse came down on top of him it would crush his skull.
With lightning speed, Kham slashed the leather restraints that held the knight’s saddle in place. He dove forward between the horse’s hind legs just as the saddle gave way.
Vlad faced down the knight to Oderic’s left side. The knight’s lance jabbed at him, but Vlad slapped it away with his shield. He grabbed a tanglefoot bag form his belt pouch and hurled it at the knight’s horse. It exploded in a sticky mass, bonding the horse’s hooves to the ground.
Ilmarė stood defiant before the other knight. She pointed at the warrior’s horse and said: Îdh. It fell to the ground, unconscious, pinning the knight beneath it.
Oderic slid forward off his horse and landed on his feet. “Fool!” Oderic drew his blade. It glowed with a golden light, singing a heavenly chorus as it was unsheathed. “I have no time for your tricks.”
“The Sword of Saint Lambertus,” whispered Vlad in awe.
Kham spun, but the warhorse was between him and the knight. He ducked just as the well-trained horse kicked backwards, nearly decapitating him.
Oderic charged forward, straight towards Petru…
There was a horrible shriek. Everyone froze and turned to look.
The Abbess and Oderic clutched each other. From her chest protruded Oderic’s sword.
Grasping the mighty blade with her last measure of strength, the Abbess looked heavenward in supplication, tears welling up in her eyes. Two tears rolled from her face to land upon the blade. A final whisper escaped her lips.
“Forgive him, for he is blind.”
And with that, she was gone.
A mournful, nearly human moan came from the Sword of Saint Lambertus that still impaled the body of the gentle Abbess. With a violent lurch, the blade flew from Oderic’s grasp as if to escape his tainted grip, shattering as it fell upon the marble floor. The golden glow disappeared; the heavenly chorus heard no more.
With a sorrowful cry, Oderic fell to his knees as the impact of his heinous deed hit him with full force.
One of Milandir’s greatest knights was reduced to a weeping, broken old man.
“Arressst him,” said Redmantle to the two knights. “He will face the Duke’sss jussstice.”
The two knights left their mounts and guided Oderic away.
Petru knelt down next to the Abbess, his own face a mask of pain. His hands were drenched with the Abbess’ blood. He wound was too deep to stop the pool of red from spreading.
“I couldn’t save her,” he whispered. “I used my most powerful supplications, but Neroth isn’t listening…” he looked heavenwards.
Vlad put one hand on Petru’s shoulder. “The living need your help now,” he said softly. “The nuns will take care of their own.”
Petru shook his head. Rising slowly to his feet, he left the courtyard. No one else was healed that day.
Another day passed and Sebastian’s illness worsened. As the day advanced, more victims of the plague were brought into the courtyard from the city. They were some of the worst cases, born in on stretches covered with blood-soaked sheets.
“At the rate these bodies come in, he’ll never heal Sebastian!” Ilmarė said, exasperated.
“Psst!” a squeaky voice whispered to Kham.
Kham looked around.
“Down here!”
Kham looked down. A large brown rat, sitting on its hind legs, was tugging on his boot.
“Great,” said the val. “Now I can hear what animals are thinking.” He rubbed his temples. “I love being a val!”
“No boss, I’m actually speaking Low Coryan,” said the rat. “Learned it from Gakyi. But that’s not important now. What’s important is that you’re about to be ambushed.”
“An ambush?” Kham looked down at the rat in disbelief. “You expect me to believe a talking rodent?”
As Petru began to minister to the sick, a half-dozen sheets were tossed aside to reveal feral ratmen, armed with wicked swords.
“Told you,” said the rat.
The half-human, half-rat men lunged at the nuns and Petru.
This time, the Nerothian was prepared. He whispered a prayer and the rats struggled to focus on him, finally ignoring him completely in favor of the nuns.
The largest of them screeched in frustration. Then it turned to face Vlad.
The rat-man had one blue eye and one brown eye.
There was a humming sound as the ratman’s sword began to bubble and hiss. Something foul dripped from the blade.
“Vlad, look out!” shouted Kham.
The Milandisian dance backwards as the sizzling blade slashed his studded leather armor.
“Kham!” shouted Vlad. “I think this is Hayden!”
“Great,” Kham snapped back. “I’ll try not to shoot him.”
One of Ilmarė’s arrows shivered from the ratman’s shoulder. Hayden hissed in rage.
“Fortunately,” said the elorii, “I have no such compunctions.”
The arrow popped out and the wound healed over before Vlad’s very eyes.
“The shaman, Gakyi, is invisible, boss,” squeaked the rat. “He’s standing over there.”
“How do you know that?” asked Kham.
“You gonna keep asking questions or you gonna shoot?”
Kham shook his head in disbelief that he was listening to a rat. He drew both of his pistols and fired where the rat pointed with one tiny claw.
With a curse, Gakyi shimmered into view. A bronze amulet in the form of a menacing rat hung from around his neck.
Gakyi screeched at Kham, saliva dripping from its jaws, and pointed one long talon at him. Kham leg’s suddenly froze up on him.
“Oh great,” said the rat on Kham’s shoulder. “He cursed you. I’ll go get help.”
“Uh, thanks…?”
“Skiz,” said the rat, scampering down Kham’s shoulder. “Hang tight boss, I’ll be right back.”
“I don’t think I can go anywhere,” said Kham.
Vlad blocked a swing from Hayden with his shield and spun with his sword, slashing the chest of an adjacent ratman wide open. The wound closed up as soon as his blade left the wound.
Ilmarė fired arrow after arrow at the ratmen. They would drop, shrieking in pain, only to rise back up again as eyeballs, throats, and chests healed. “Our weapons are useless!” she shouted to no one in particular.
Petru hurried over. Skiz was on his shoulder. “I brought help!”
“That’s great. Hey Petru, mind joining in the fight?”
“If I retaliate, Neroth’s blessing vill be revoked,” said the Nerothian. “But I can help you.” He put one hand on Kham’s forehead. His legs unfroze. “Dere.”
“Great,” said Kham, “now if you can just tell us how to kill these things.”
Skiz hopped the distance between Petru’s shoulder and Kham’s. He was a nimble little beast. “Got a silver weapon, boss?”
Kham slapped his forehead. “I KNEW I shouldn’t have sold that dagger!” He turned to Vlad. “Vlad! Use your dagger!”
Vlad was hard pressed to keep Hayden and two other ratmen at bay. He ferociously counterattacked with a wide swing that force all three of them backwards, then dropped his shield and drew the dagger the senator had given them so long ago.
Before Hayden could recover, Vlad slammed the dagger into the ratman’s face. With a shriek, Hayden collapsed, transforming back into the tanner’s original human form.
Kham rummaged around in the sack that had served to hold his armor and weapons when he was in the Canceri prison. “Now I just need two more pistols…”
“I’ll get ‘em boss!” shouted Skiz. The rat dove into the bag and disappeared.
Kham had to abandon his quest as Gakyi, spittle flecking his snout, roared into hand-to-hand combat with a longsword. Kham blocked it with Talon.
Vlad plunged his sword through another ratman, buying him enough time to yank the dagger out of Hayden’s head. The rat man kept coming, gnashing and spitting. Vlad speared the rat through the forehead head with the dagger. With a long, piteous squeal, it expired.
Ilmarė danced backwards as two rat men advanced on her. The arrows were slowly being pushed out of their bodies as the wounds healed.
“I am really getting tired of this.” She drew her elven thinblade.
Kham blocked Gakyi’s frenzied swing with Talon. “How you doing in there Skiz?”
“Almost…got it…” came a muffled voice from somewhere inside the bag. “Here!”
Kham slashed low and high, forcing Gakyi backwards. He resheathed his blades. “Now!”
The rat dragged a pistol belt out of the sack. Kham drew the two pistols, whirled, and fired at the ratmen advancing on Ilmarė. The dropped, twitching.
“They’ll get back up in a second, boss” said Skiz.
“Yeah, I know,” Kham drew his blades again as Gakyi closed the gap between them. “I’m just buying us time.”
“Time for what?” asked Skiz.
Vlad slit the throats of both of the prone ratmen before they could recover. He glared up at Gakyi with a murderous look in his eyes.
Gakyi hissed. Then the shaman threw something to the ground and smoke enveloped him.
A silvery blade whistled through the air and into the darkness. When the smoke cleared, the human that was once Gakyi lay face first on the ground, a silver dagger protruding from the back of his head.
Admonishments to the val of the city prevented the further spread of the disease. Petru was able to cure those already infected, including Sebastian and Vlad.
“De dark-kin vil be veak for veeks,” said Petru.
“What?” asked Kham.
“He vill be sick for some time,” said the Nerothian. “But I expect a full recovery.”
“I’ll stay with him until he can travel,” said Beldin gruffly. “There’s a forge here. I’ve been meaning to put that Ignium we picked up from Nishanpur to good use.”
“We should keep moving,” said Vlad. “I’d like to report back into the Duke as to what happened here. It’s important he’s aware, in case the plague spreads.”
“What I really want to know is how the hell I picked up a talking rat out of all this,” Kham said with a wry smirk.
Skiz, sitting on the val’s shoulder, twitched his whiskers at Kham’s face.
“I don’t know why you carry that disgusting thing around with you,” said Ilmarė. “The wererats should be proof enough that vermin are filthy beasts.”
“Those were humans once,” said Vlad.
Ilmarė crossed her arms. “You didn’t seem to have a problem killing your countrymen once they took on another form.”
Vlad bit his lip. He said nothing further.
“Hey, leave him alone,” said Kham. “He did what he had to. They left him no choice.”
“Gakyi found that tiny bronze idol,” said Skiz, pointing one claw at the idol in Kham’s palm. “He said it spoke to him in dreams, dreams that promised untold power if he would perform certain tasks. At first, they were trivial things: favor a mate, avoid a certain human, and so forth. But eventually it led him into Faerdlau, with an order to kill certain humans, mostly priests of Neroth and Beltine. That’s about when I started talking.”
Kham peered at the idol. It was the Yellow Sign. “So you weren’t always like this?”
“No, boss. How about you?”
Kham peered over his lenses at Skiz. “Very funny.”
“I still don’t trust it,” said the elorii. “Why would it help us?”
“I’m not deaf you know,” said Skiz. “Look, it’s simple: once I realized what my old boss had planned, I didn’t want to be part of it anymore. So I switched to the winning side; val are leaders and protectors. My new boss was an obvious choice.”
“You hear that?” Kham chuckled. “He thinks I’m a winner.”
“This, coming from a rat,” sniffed Ilmarė.
Skiz ducked his head around to look at Kham. “I think she means you, boss.”
This is a Year One Living Arcanis adventure, “Hidden Greed” by Daniel M. Perez, set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at Onara Online. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!
Our cast of characters includes:
• Dungeon Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
• Kham Val’Abebi (val rogue/psychic warrior) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://www.ninjarobotstudios.com)
• Ilmarė Galen (elf bard/fighter) played by Amber Tresca
• Vlad Martell (human fighter) played by Matt Hammer
While the previous adventure wrapped up the Ymandrake plague, there’s still other world events going on, not the least of which is the pending war between Ssethregore and Altheria. This adventure served as a great reminder that the world continues to revolve even when our heroes aren’t doing anything at all. It also provided for some good old fashioned family conflict (a theme I repeatedly abuse), as Kham must come to grips with just how much of a heartless person he wants to be.
Finally, the adventure deals with Cal’s tribe and fleshes them out a bit more. We’ve already seen his tribe in action and drummed up some sympathy, but this adventure really pushes the envelope. And it forced Vlad to expand his definitions of who is a “Milandisian countryman.”
The verdant hills of Milandir were truly a sight to behold. A signpost ahead noted the village of Saeber lay only a few miles up the road.
“Considering the sun will set soon, I think Saeber’s a good place to rest,” said Vlad.
Kham and Ilmarė shrugged.
“It’s your homeland,” said Kham. “As long as they’re not crazy cannibals, cultists, or have the plague, I’m happy to stay there.”
The trail cut across a small valley and then went high up a hill.
Ilmarė blinked. “I hear the sounds of battle.”
The clash of swords soon became unmistakable. Small explosions and hoarse yelling signaled a conflict. Once they reached the hilltop, there was no doubt.
In the distance, scantly a mile away, a walled village was under attack. Villages rushed to cover various areas, shooting arrows and throwing spears at a large group of reptilian soldiers. The ss’ressen attacked on foot while a second group, mounted on drakes, rode by and drew their fire.
“Ss’ressen?” Kham asked in disbelief. “Here?”
Before anyone could react, the ss’ressen regrouped and rode off into the northern hills, back into their swamplands. The village folk inside the walls cheered and rejoiced as they slowly returned to their lives.
A patrol of five Milandisians rode up the trail to greet them. “Well met, travelers,” said one of patrolmen. “You may wish to camp at our village tonight instead of riding on past sundown.”
“What’s going on?” asked Vlad.
“This area has been under constant attacks for the past half month and one never knows when those crafty ss’ressen might attack again. There’s an inn in town; I’m sure you’ll be able to find lodging.”
“But I thought the ss’ressen were Milandisian allies,” protested Vlad. “They only just recently established their colony in the Sulfurmarsh.”
“This was a small party that attacked just now,” said the patrolman. “They also retreated quite fast, but we must not bemoan our moment of luck. We are riding now to scout the area and make sure it is secure.”
The patrolman clucked at his horse and they rode off.
“I guess we have to stay at the dinky little town,” Ilmarė muttered to Kham. “You didn’t mention anything about towns attacked by traitorous lizards.”
The village of Saeber lay at the bottom of a verdant valley. A large collection of two and three-story buildings crammed the village area, while small outlying edifices showed signs of steady expansion and growth. The village’s ten-foot high wooden walls clashed against the serene greenery. Village folk milled all around, patching holes and filling ditches left by explosions.
“Explosions?” Kham looked around. “They’re using blackpowder?”
The village showed signs of tumult. People in the streets rushed by in throngs, headed to the village square.
The square was a mess of people yelling and screaming at everyone and everything. Three middle-aged men stood on a makeshift podium.
After they spoke for a few moments, the three leaders of Saeber identified themselves. There was Drafnah, who had a worried look on his face; Lonnek, an older but keenly aware man; and Vanos, a stern-looking fellow with a strong voice.
“Everyone,” he shouted. “Please, be silent, we are awaiting the reports!” After a few loud bangs of a mallet, the village folk fell into silence.
Runners arrived with various scrolls, which Lonnek read quickly.
“There are no casualties and, as before, Saeber has suffered no significant damage!” Lonnek looked around. “I urge you to all go back to your homes and remain calm.”
He was greeted by shouts of, “No way!” and “We’re not going to just sit here and wait to be slaughtered!”
A tall, ebony-skinned man dressed in rich clothing approached the podium brusquely.
“We should form a strike force immediately!” he demanded in a loud voice. “We have to attack the ss’ressen before they have a chance to destroy our homes! You have been delaying the inevitable while we risk our lives every day that passes!”
Kham slapped his forehead. “I don’t believe it.”
“Is the Altherian a friend of yours?” asked Ilmarė.
“You could say that. That’s Pallas.”
“Who are you tell us what to do?” Lonnek asked the Altherian, irritated.
“My people have been dealing with these monsters for generations,” said Pallas. “The only language they understand is brute force!”
“Reinforcements are on their way,” replied Lonnek. He looked as if he had dealt with Pallas before. “They should be here in a few days’ time.”
They argued back and forth some more.
“The ss’ressen are ruthless!” He caught Kham’s eye. “And here is my cousin, Kham val’Abebi, the foremost authority on the lizard threat. Kham, tell them how dangerous they are?”
Kham blinked. “Err…yes, they are! And your village is no match for them.” He walked over to Pallas and grabbed him by the shoulder. “We Altherians should have a conference and let you know the best strategy to deal with them.”
“Yes!” said Pallas. “Excellent idea!” He turned to face Kham. “Meet me back at my house tomorrow morning. You can’t miss it.”
Kham was crossing featureless frosty ground. Aldebaran loomed ahead. It had slipped so low in the sky that it touched the horizon; one could step up to it now.
One could step down from it too. Thousands of stars showed, but they were not the stars Kham knew. There were others with him—friends, but they were just an escort, for it was only he that mattered. No Emperor ever performed an action to match what he was about to do.
He saw a bright, bright light and then a tall figure. His white and yellow robes moved in a wind Kham didn’t feel.
Kham reached out and, awed, he saw himself take it and walk through.
Then he woke up.
Skiz was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, eyes glittering. “Bad dream, boss?”
“You weren’t sitting there all night watching me, were you?”
“Nah. You just cried out and woke me up. You okay?”
“No,” Kham reached out for a pitcher. Normally it would be filled with wine, but he had shifted to water when the inn was able to provide it. “But that’s nothing new.”
“Well, I’m going to go back to sleep,” said Skiz. The rat rolled over on the nightstand and his breathing became deep and slow.
Kham envied him. He struggled with the covers to get comfortable again.
Walking outside the southern walls, the Milandisian countryside stretched for miles in the inky darkness of early morning. The flickering lights of the various outlying farms provided the only signs of life. Some three hundred feet away from the walls stood a large barn with a one-story house attached to it. The sounds of metal beating metal came from the barn.
Kham knocked on the barn door. The sounds stopped.
A few seconds later, Pallas val’Abebi emerged. “Kham? It’s good to see you! Your timing is impeccable. What brings you here?”
They hugged. “Just passing through, cousin. This is the last place I expected to find you!”
Pallas laughed. “Come in, come in, have some tea. It’s difficult to get the ingredients right out here, but I have something close enough.”
The inside of the barn had been turned into a full-fledged alchemy laboratory. Various clunky wooden tables teemed with beakers, vials, piping, books, jars with strange-colored liquids inside and more. The air was heavy and thick with a variety of smells, not all of them pleasant. On the far wall was a large fireplace at its center point, barely lit with only a few embers.
He poured something out of a beaker that could easily have been an alchemical concoction into two mismatched cups. “It’s not elegant,” Pallas said with a grin, “but it will do.” He sat down on a rickety wooden bench and offered Kham a cup.
“Thanks.” Kham joined him. “So what are you doing so far from Altheria?”
Pallas grinned a white-toothed grin. “I could ask you the same thing, but I suppose wanderlust comes with being the black sheep in the family. Truth be told, I’m on business.” He instantly became more serious. “Speaking of family…I heard about Uncle Corinalous. I’m sorry Kham, he was a good man.”
Kham took a long sip from his cup. “We weren’t that close, to be honest. I went into a dark place when he died. Did you go to his…?” He trailed off.
“His funeral? No, I missed it. I heard that Falthar did an excellent job though on his eulogy. Are you planning to visit soon then? I know your mother would be pleased.”
Kham snorted. “I don’t know that she’d even remember who I am. But yes, I plan on making my way there. How are things at home?”
Pallas leaned forward. “Not well. The Ssethregorans have stepped up their attacks. People are talking about war.”
“Open warfare?” Kham sipped more of the tea. It had been a long time since he had sampled Altherian tea. Not since he had tea with his father, over twenty years ago. “Have things gotten that bad?”
Pallas nodded. “We’ve been looking for more blackpowder. This town is close to a nearby phosphorous mine, so I was scouting it out when I heard rumors of an uprising amongst the Black Talon ss’ressen here.”
Kham nodded at the alchemical apparatus. “I see you’re still refining it.” The telltale sent of phosphorous and sulfur, ingredients for blackpowder, filled the air.
“I was, until the ss’ressen attacked us unprovoked. It’s a good thing I was here or they would have been slaughtered.”
“When did this happen?”
“Two weeks ago. You know how it is, Kham. Lizards are all the same. You can move a lizard to a nicer neighborhood but they never change their stripes.”
Kham blinked. “It’s strange that the ss’ressen in Sulfurmarsh would do that. I know one of them. They’re dumb as rocks, sure. But they wouldn’t just attack people outright.”
“These do. Something about a Yig uprising. I think their vile gods have gotten them stirred up. If they’re capable of killing Corinalous, they’re capable of anything.”
Kham shifted in his seat. “Who told you that?”
“I heard about it,” said Pallas. “I heard they attacked the Temple of Althares in Freeport. Then they planted a bomb, delivered it right to Corinalous. Those bastards!”
Kham shook his head. “You’ve got it wrong. That was the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign.”
Pallas laughed bitterly. “Oh, I’ve got it right. The ssanu run that cult.”
“No, you see there are two factions of ssanu, the Sskethvai and the Hitthkai. The Hitthkai are the more peaceful types, they worship Yig. The Sskethvai have been co-opted to worship The King in Yellow…” he trailed off as he caught Pallas’ expression. “Never mind.”
Pallas chuckled. “I’m sure that’s all very interesting. In fact, I think we should talk more about it; the more intelligence we have about the damn snakes and their lizard lapdogs, the better off we all are. But for now, I think you need to see all this for yourself. Stand watch with the rest of the village guards tonight. Althares knows they could use the help.”
Kham thought for a moment. “I think that’s a good idea.” He stood up and thanked Pallas for the tea.
“Kill one for Corinalous,” said Pallas.
To Kham’s credit, he hesitated only for a moment before walked out the door.
They were stationed at the North Wall, along with six other militia soldiers. It was a dark night, without moonlight. Torches were the only means of illumination beyond the walls.
Ilmarė scanned the horizon. “They’re coming.”
The ss’ressen blended in so well with the darkened vegetation that it looked as if the forest had come to life. Something whistled in the night air.
“Javelins!” shouted Vlad. “Down!”
They ducked as javelins flashed overhead.
The impromptu barricade shuddered from the force of ss’ressen tail and claw.
“They’re breaking through!” Vlad slid down off the ladder. “Get ready!”
Kham stood at the hole with two pistols out. “So am I allowed to shoot lizards or are you going to throw a hissy fit about that too?”
Vlad didn’t have time to respond. Eight ss’ressen burst through the hole and immediately scattered to the left and right.
“What the…” Vlad watched them go. “They’re not attacking?”
“They’re looking for something,” Ilmarė said from atop the wall.
Some of the militia swung their swords at them, but the ss’ressen easily ducked the untrained blows. One ss’ressen crouched low, tail high in the air, and knocked a militiaman unconscious with one slap of its tail.
Vlad stepped into the path of one of the ss’ressen. “Why are you attacking this village?”
“Give usss back our eggsss!” it hissed. It turned to step around him.
Vlad grabbed it by the shoulders. “Eggs? What eggs!”
“Desssissst!” It squirmed in his grip. “We wisssh only to find our own!”
“We’re here to help! You’re Calactyte’s tribe, right?”
The ss’ressen stopped squirming. “You know of him?”
Vlad let it go. “Yes. Can you take us to him?”
The ss’ressen bobbed its head. “Follow usss.”
The village folk had organized enough to present a sizeable threat to the invading ss’ressen. They escaped through the breach on the east wall, carrying their wounded with them. A cheer went up from the villagers.
Kham holstered his pistols as Vlad approached. “So now what?”
“Now, we follow them back to their village.”
Kham slapped his forehead. “The Sulfurmarsh? I hate that place.”
“Me too,” said Vlad. “But it’s the only way to get to the bottom of this.”
“That,” said Ilmarė, “or it’s a trap.”
Then they disappeared into the darkness in pursuit of the fleeing ss’ressen.
The moonless night made shadows seem larger than life along the hilltops. The flickering torchlight of Saeber in the distance provided the only illumination visible for leagues. North of the hills, the muggy scent of the Sulfurmarsh carried on the breeze. The chirping of frogs and insects buzzed around them.
After trudging through unending wetland and pools of mire that threatened to swallow whole their every step, the dense mangrove forest began to slightly thin out. In the far distance, floating, flickering lights were visible.
“That must be Calactyte’s tribe,” said Vlad.
In between the gnarled mangrove branches, the lights revealed themselves to be torches set at regular intervals, marking the edge of a settlement of sorts. Various pairs of ss’ressen guards stood roughly twenty feet from each other. Behind, the obscure shapes of structures showed the camp to in fact be a village of some kind.
Ilmarė sighed. “Yep. It’s a trap.”
“How do you know that?” asked Vlad.
“Because we’re surrounded.”
The swamp atmosphere turned abruptly dangerous; the constant buzz of mosquitoes died down, replaced by low rumblings and high-pitched staccato noises.
All around them, what appeared to be the prone forms of dead logs, root clumps, or harmless alligators resting the water reveal themselves to be ambushing ss’ressen scouts.
“We will not harm you if you sssurrender immediately,” came a guttural voice.
“We want to speak to Calactyte,” said Vlad. “Is he here?”
“Follow usss.”
They ended up with an escort of warriors.
“They must have lost a lot of warriors,” said Ilmarė. “These are youth.” The few pieces of leather armor the ss’ressn wore did little to conceal the patches of dry skin that peeled off their bodies.
The mangrove forest opened into a large clearing in the midst of the swamp. Dry paths crisscrossed the clearing among canals of dark water, teeming with dead leaves, plants, and pieces of wood. Scattered around in a rough circle inside the canals were a number of huts and dwellings. They were made of wood, dried mud covered in leaves, tall grass, and rocks pressed onto the walls.
“Looks a little different than when were here last time,” observed Vlad.
The great majority of the dwellings had been destroyed; chunks of walls and roofs were missing or fell into the water.
“Pallas got to them,” said Kham. Black soot marks were clearly visible, even at night, pointing to extensive fire damage.
As the guards led them down the path towards a large, central stone structure, they caught glimpses inside of some of the destroyed huts. They were amphibian in nature; small pools that lead to underwater chambers accompanied large, dry areas.
Kham wasn’t sure if what he saw inside one of the inner house pools was a dead ss’ressen body or just floating debris. He looked away.
As they closed on the stone building, the ss’ressen numbers became apparent. The remains of the village had been turned into a military camp.
Vlad scanned the area. “Three score,” he whispered for Kham alone. “All well-armed with javelins and sword.”
Their destination lay in the middle of the village. It was a massive, two-story complex with no windows, built in a combination of rough-hewn and smooth dark-gray stone. A few adornments—coiled snakes—remained in place, though many were shattered along with the stone walls they had been carved from.
“Where was Alissstair?” asked Kham. “This was his temple.”
“Abandoned,” Ilmarė said with a mournful note in her voice, “the final death of all false gods.”
Though in better shape than the wooden dwelling, the stone structured exhibited heavy signs of damage. Large sections of stone wall were missing all around, the bulky chunks of debris laying in heaps on the floor.
“What force struck here?” Kham asked out loud. “The Milandisian don’t have this much firepower, do they?”
Dark, sooty marks spoke of more fire damage. The faint smell of smoke and burnt flesh still lingered in the air.
Vlad shook his head. “They would have used it when the ss’ressen invaded. Someone else did this.”
“Someone with access to a lot of blackpowder,” said Kham.
They entered the broken temple. It was a barren area, as large as the building, filled with armed ss’ressen congregated in small groups. An enormous red brick furnace three times a man’s width stood in the middle of the room dead, its embers gone.
A group of five ss’ressen stood discussing in quick, sibilant growls. One of them stepped forward.
“Where’s Calactyte?” asked Vlad.
The ss’ressn was a tall and lithe soldier with green and black scales running down the side of his body, dressed in piecemeal leather armor with a pair of punching daggers hanging from his belt. His eyes burned bright yellow, but he exhibited the ss’ressen unnatural composure.
“He isss not here.” When the ss’ressen spoke, his snouth-like mouth barely formed the words. “You will deal with me.” The words came out in a guttural growl.
“Then who are you?” asked Kham.
“Shatterscale isss a crude approximation in your language. I am commander of thisss force.”
The ss’ressen sharp reptilian features glinted in the iridescent light. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Vlad with suspicion.
“We will not waste your time or energy. You will tell usss who you are, where you come from, who ssent you, and who hasss the eggsss. Fail to cooperate and you may well become the firssst intended casssualtiesss in thisss ssskirmisssh.”
“What happened with your eggs?” asked Vlad.
“Do not play innocent, ape! We know full well the cowardsss who ssstole thisss village’sss eggsss came from Sssaeber. In ssspite of thisss act of aggression, we offered diplomacy and were lied to again and again.”
“Wait,” Kham said carefully. “Are you saying Saeber stole the eggs?”
“To deny your robbery of the eggsss merely insssultsss ussss further,” hissed Shatterscale.
Vlad opened his palms. “We’re just trying to understand—“
Shatterscale’s snout came within inches of Vlad’s face, squinting furiously. “Yig’sss ire will befall you!” His nostrils flared as he tried to control his temper. Vlad met his gaze unflinchingly.
After a few seconds, Shatterscale pulled back and took a few steps away. He called forth another ss’ressen.
“Krisharr!” said Kham, relieved to finally see a familiar face. “Buddy! Pal! Tell the big guy that we’re okay, will ya?”
The short ss’ressen shaman spoke to Shatterscale for a few seconds.
Shatterscale snorted. He turned again to address Vlad. “Krisharr telllsss usss you may be trussstworthy. You sssay you do not know of the stolen eggsss? We shall sssee.”
Kham rubbed his forehead. “This guy makes Cal look cuddly.”
They were led to the back end of the building. Shatterscale pointed to a table with a large map of the surrounding area spread upon it. Dozens of small markers were scattered over it in various formations. He lifted his head from contemplating the map to address Vlad.
“Yig tellsss usss that Her might will fuel the heart of the righteousss and prove the truth in all disputesss,” said Shatterscale. “Yig demandsss a Trial by Combat to prove your wordsss.”
Ilmarė planted her fists on her hips. “This is ridiculous.” She turned to address the shaman. “Tell them that we saved your disgusting mud hole last time.”
The shaman watched her coolly. “There wasss a time when I would have gladly defended you, even a ssslave. But timesss have changed.”
“Prepare.” Krisharr drew a circle around Vlad and Shatterscale. “Truth will ssstrengthen your weaponsss, not magic. Conviction will be your ally, not thossse around you or the deviousss enchantmentsss that may be cassst. The flat of the sssword shall sssmite liesss, not pierce them with callousss edge. Mercy will be the sssign of the victor, not bloody murder.”
Ilmarė translated: “So no spells, no stabbing, and no help.”
Vlad buckled on his shield. “Fine, I’ll use the flat of the blade.” He made a few test swings with his sword. “Let’s do this.”
Shatterscale pulled two L-shaped sticks from his belt. He spun them in his hands.
“Begin!” shouted Krisharr.
Shatterscale slid into a fighting stance as Vlad closed. He swung his blade at Shatterscale’s head, but the ss’ressen blocked it with the longer part of both sticks.
“Clumsssy,” hissed Shatterscale. With a twist, he slapped Grungronazharr aside and retaliated with two quick blows to Vlad’s torso. Then he danced back.
They parried and struck, over and over. Vlad looked like a lumbering oaf in comparison to the lithe ss’ressen, even though they were nearly the same size. Every time Vlad struck, Shatterscale retaliated twice.
“I fought Vrosh!” Vlad parried another of Shatterscale swipes and then connected on the ss’ressen arm with the flat of his blade. “And I won!”
The news gave Shattesrcale pause, enough that Vlad saw an opening. He slammed his shield into Shatterscale’s torso, pinning the ss’ressen arms as he tried to block the attack. With an overhand swing, he brought the hilt of his sword down on the big lizard’s skull.
Shatterscale collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Krisharr hissed. It may have been the ss’ressen form of a smile. “It ssseemsss you are telling the truth about your lack of involvement with the ssstolen eggsss. We almost wisssh thisss wasss not ssso; we could get the information we need and have a chance to ssstop all madnessss before it’sss too late.”
“Madness?” asked Kham. “Like, King in Yellow, murder-your-family madness?”
Krisharr tilted his head quizzically at Kham. “The impending war between our people and the Milandisssiansss. But regardless of the consssequencesss, thossse eggsss are invaluable to usss. We will not ssstop until we have them back. Look here.”
Vlad sheathed his sword and stepped over Shatterscale to look at the map.
“We are aware of the Milandisssian reinforcements. We have our own on the way. A war will ssstart sssoon and we are running out of optionsss. We have half a day to find thossse eggsss before we are left without choice and death findsss a feassst in the bloody fieldssss.”
“We have to stop this,” Vlad said to Kham. “Milandir can’t afford another war.”
“Nobody can afford a war,” Ilmarė said sourly.
“About a moon cycle ago, we received word thisss village had been attacked,” said Krisharr. “We dispatched a sssmall force to invessstigate. Many of our people lay ssslain on the ground and in the water, burnt beyond recognition or maimed. Warriorsss eldersss, mothersss and hatchlingsss; it wasss a massacre. It wasss then dissscovered that all the eggsss in the hatchery had been ssstolen.”
“What happened to Cal?” asked Vlad.
“He came from Sulfurmarsh asss sssoon asss he heard, but he wasss too late. He joined the ssscouts we sssent to sssummon a greater force and to find the trackssss of the attackerssss. They found varioussss sssetsss of trackssss from Sssaeber but were ambussshed. Calactyte was ssseperated from the group. He hasss not returned.”
“The villagers said you tried to negotiate,” said Kham. “What happened?”
“We sssent variousss groupsss to talk to the humansss of Ssaeber to sssolve thisss conflict asss peacefully asss possible. Three timesss we approached under a banner of peace and three timesss were were turned away.”
Vlad put fists on his hips. “The negotiators weren’t interested in peace? That doesn’t seem like Saeber.”
“They gave the impresssion of trying to be helpful, but never actually did anything to help sssolve the sssituation,” said Krisharr. “When I met with the negotiator persssonally, he became belligerent and offensssive. He threatened to have the might of the entire Milandisssian army thrown against usss if we ever sssent anyone to parley again.”
Kham’s took a deep breath. “Who did you negotiate with?”
When they returned to the village of Saeber, it was clear the atmosphere had changed dramatically. The holes in the walls were patched and the smell of burning oil filled the air. Loud clangs of hammers on anvils drowned the sounds of the night. People flocked to and fro, carrying bundles of arrows, wood and rocks. They pulled wagons filled with hay and water skins. Saeber was preparing for war.
Vlad looked around. "Farmers, farriers, stable boys. These are no soldiers."
Walking through the streets confirmed the hopelessness of the situation. Even the women and children were helping, barricading doors and windows, collecting water and so on.
“Most have seen too many winters!" said Kham.
"Or too few,” added Ilmarė.
At the square, those in Saeber who had formal martial training gathered, while the leaders divided them into various groups. Lonnek stood somewhat to the side, speaking to a young boy.
“Look at them,” Kham shook his head. “They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."
“As well they should be,” said Ilmarė. “They’re not match for a ss’ressen force.”
Lonnek handed him a rolled up scroll and they boy took off like an arrow, darting around corners and through the streets. He walked over to Vlad.
“Have you news?”
“I need to talk to Pallas,” Kham said grimly. “I think this has all been a big misunderstanding.”
Lonnek gave Kham an incredulous look. “Misunderstanding? We’re on the brink of war!”
Kham took pistol after pistol out of his belt pouch, more than it could possibly hold. “I may be able to stop it. But that all depends.” He checked the bullets and black powder in each one.
“On what?” asked Lonnek.
“If blood is thicker than water.” He stalked off towards Pallas’ farmhouse with Vlad and Ilmarė in tow.
Kham sat down once again in Pallas’ abode. Once again, he was served tea in a mismatched cup.
“So, you saw it for your own eyes then?” Pallas asked eagerly. “What those damn lizards are capable of?”
“Yes,” Kham said slowly. He hadn’t touched his tea. “I saw them. I spoke with them. Pallas, if there’s something you’re not telling me, it’s not too late for me to help you.”
Pallas paused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that the ss’ressen are saying you were leading negotiations for Saeber. They kept asking for peace and you kept rebuffing them.”
“That’s preposterous!” Pallas put down his tea. “I expected better of you, Kham. The lizards are lying through their forked tongues and you, of all people, are buying into their deception?”
Kham shook his head. “I didn’t say I was. But you don’t seem too concerned about keeping the peace here. Milandir can’t afford another war, not after the Nierite invasion from Canceri.”
“You don’t afford wars, Kham. They happen because you run out of choices. And I’m telling you right now, this whole idea that ss’ressen should be able to resettle in human lands was a mistake from the beginning. The Duke’s a fool if he thought the Black Talon tribe would be peaceful.”
Pallas stood up and began pacing. “You don’t know what I’ve seen, Kham. They’re murdering cannibals. I’ve watched lizards rip babies from wombs and eat them. There’s no decency in those things…no shred of compassion. I’m doing Milandir a favor by calling them on their lies now, rather than later when Ssethregore strikes and Altheria ends up flanked by lizards on both sides!”
Kham looked sadly at his cousin. “Look, I don’t trust the lizards either. But I know one of them, and he tried to save a little boy…a HUMAN child. That’s not the same monsters you’re talking about. The ss’ressen aren’t all like that.”
“Aren’t they?” Pallas’ features twisted with indignation. “I didn’t figure you for a lizard-lover.”
Kham sighed. He was getting nowhere. “Where are the eggs?”
Pallas’ brow furrowed. “What are you accusing me of?”
“Look, I understand. Altheria’s on the brink of war. And sometimes we all have to make choices for the greater good. But stealing another village’s children is not the answer.”
Pallas barked a bitter laugh. “Is that what you think I’m doing? I’m kidnapping babies now? Oh, those lizards have gotten to you, haven’t they?” He shook his head. “How do you think we’re going to wage a war against these damn things? With sticks and rocks? Althares’ gift is black powder, but His will works in mysterious ways.”
“I thought that’s why you were sent here? To mine more phosphorous?”
“We’re running out, Kham.” Pallas walked over to the fireplace. “The black powder’s running low. And if we run out, we’ll be overrun by those things. While you’ve been out touring the world, I’ve been waging a war. And we do what it takes to procure more phosphorous.”
A horrible thought crept over Kham. “What do you mean?”
“It’s in the eggs! The eggs have phosphorous in them! I’ve lost a lot of men running missions into the Kraldjur Morass. But when I found out that there were ss’ressen here, I hired mercenaries to retrieve their eggs. And that’s exactly what they did, with a little help from Altherian ingenuity.”
“That’s crazy,” said Kham. “There can’t possibly be enough phosphorous in the eggs to risk…this.”
“You don’t believe me?” Pallas pushed on one of the bricks in the fireplace. A compartment slid open, revealing a clutch of ss’ressen eggs. “Smell them!”
Kham slowly rose to his feet and walked over. Pallas picked up an egg with two hands and thrust it towards Kham. “Here, smell it! You’ll know what I say is true.”
Kham took the egg. He took a deep whiff. It reminded him of Emric.
Pallas was manic behind him, eyes wide. “You’ve fought them, Kham. You’ve killed them. They killed your father. You know in your heart that this is the only way. Sacrifices have to be made. And this town is a small sacrifice to make. You, on the other hand…”
There was the telltale sound of two Altherian flintlock pistols cocked at the back of Kham’s head. He froze.
“You’re a much bigger sacrifice than I anticipated. I thought you, of all people, would understand. You and I, we’re a lot alike Kham. We do what we must to survive.”
“We’re not alike as you think, Pallas.” Kham placed the egg back in the fireplace and pressed the brick, concealing them again. “I can see the future!”
And suddenly, Vlad was standing where Kham stood, just in time to take the full force of two pistol blasts.
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