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!
Finally, Tim gets a chance to cut loose! No more throwing punches in barroom brawls or trying not to kill potentially helpful lizardmen. Weird mutant frog guys trying to kill us? They're going down!
“I did not agree… I was informed by that twelve-year-old girl… She gave me the paper with the name on it and informed me that his person was not to leave the cove,” Telémahkos explained. “By the time it was revealed to me I had no choice… We were already here.”
“And I assume you weren’t planning on going along with that?” Victoria asked with suspicion in her voice.
“No of course not! I said, she just told me… I did not agree to do it…” Telie replied.
“How is it you know this girl was the contact you were supposed to meet?” Bley the Aubergine asked.
“Well, I don’t, officially… The captain of the guard of New Harbinger put me in contact with Crumb and told me that then another of his agents would contact me after… By the way the girl said what I was to do, and her interactions with Crumb, it is safe to assume it was her…” Telémahkos explained. “I mean, it could be possible it is a case of mistaken identity, and there are many agents being sent in and out of the cove covertly… But regardless, I am not going to say anything to anyone because I have no leverage with which to accuse the captain of the guard, and all I would be accomplishing would be getting myself killed…”
There was a long silence as everyone mulled it over, but Telémahkos suddenly smiled broadly. “But lucky for me, we’ve gotten here and everybody is already dead!”
“And this Crumb? Did he know of your mission of assassination?” Bleys asked.
“Yes, but I would prefer if you just forgot that name,” Telie said, his smile fading again.
“Oberto? The captain of the New Harbinger guard? Servant of House Swann?” Bleys asked. “How could I forget it?”
“Look! For all we know he is just working against the smugglers the only way he can and is using me as an agent for the law,” Telémahkos tried.
Bleys raised an eyebrow.
“I hope you are not naïve enough to think that these things don’t happen!” Telie huffed.
“Things like what? Assassination?” Bleys said, his tone always flat. Was he mocking? One could never tell.
“Yes.”
“How did Oberto know to contact you?” Bleys continued his questioning.
“I believe it was because of Floris Tenbrook,” Telémahkos explained. “I am… I know some members of the Herald’s Guild, and he gave me a message to bring to the captain of the guard. It was a note. I did not mention it because it seemed a thing of confidence and seemed of no profit or concern to the group as a whole. However, now it seems it has embroiled me in all of this…”
“You do not know the content of the note?” Bleys asked.
“Correct.” Telie replied. “Floris Tenbrook acted very affably towards me and did not directly… Well, now looking back there was some innuendo… I guess he did… He did manipulate me. He sent me to the captain with the note…” He sighed.
“And you know nothing of this person? This, Harliss Javell?” Bleys asked.
“No, the note from the girl was the first I had seen the name.”
“Did you get a physical description?” Victoria asked.
“No.”
From deep within the caves somewhere they heard the echo of deep croaking. Markos looked across the beach and sighed, “I’m ready…”
“I want to finish inspecting the beach,” Bleys said.
“Didn’t you hear that? Why is everyone acting like they didn’t hear that?” Telie asked nervously.
“We heard it,” Timotheus said, losing his patience. “One thing at a time…” He walked over towards the cavern entrance; flail in hand keeping an eye out.
They found an opened case of wine with three bottles still intact. The labels bore silver grapes with purple leaves and read Remoli in red script, with a faux banner reading “wine of the holy grape.” When Tymon declared it a rare Red God wine worth as much as one hundred silver pieces a bottle, the crate was carefully carried onto the boat. They brought along with it a leather ten-pound bag of damp saffron that Markos dried with a quick cantrip.
The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland made ready to explore the closer entrance to the caves beyond. Timotheus took point, and Victoria was close behind with Laarus and then Bleys. Markos took up the rear, with Telémahkos and Tymon trailing to make sure nothing came around by way of the rail bridge to cut off their retreat.
The entrance was barely nine feet high and seven or eight feet wide and not far into it, it branched into two directions, with a hooded lantern hung there at the fork. It illuminated the dark cavern. From within to the left they could all now hear a loud chewing, and the sound of meat being torn from the bone.
“There could be survivors,” Victoria whispered.
“We should just go back to the boat,” Telie hissed up to his companions.
“We should find another way around into the room,” Bleys said, as he grabbed the lantern from the wall and began to withdraw. The others began to follow his lead, not wanting to be left in the dark, with Timotheus delaying, to make sure everyone would make it out. It was then that he saw two dark misshapen silhouettes appear at the entrance to the room marked “mess” on Telie’s crude map.
“There’s only two of them… We can take them!” Timotheus announced, eagerly. Victoria moved over and readied her spear as the two frogmen loped forward, their tall bounds arrested by the relatively low ceiling. Tim tried to wave them off by swinging his flail menacingly, but they fell upon him, worrying him with their jagged teeth, caustic saliva dripping down his side.
“Back up! Let them out so we can surround them!” Telémahkos called up.
“Strike and retreat!” Markos cried, but the battle was cramped chaos. He got a shot in with Telie’s heavy crossbow as Timotheus withdrew some and the bolt buried itself in chest of one of them, but it did not fall. The party slowly retreated drawing the two frogmen to the fork where Telémahkos waited hidden in shadow. He let loose with a dagger, but the weapon bounced around ineffectively, and one of the frogs turned to look at him. But as it stepped in that direction Tim’s flail caved its chest and it collapsed. It croaked and bit at him, but he knocked it away with his weapon as he leapt back to avoid the blast of acidic ichor. The body oozed away to almost nothing.
“Now it’s your turn,” Timotheus quipped as he turned to the other, but as he swung his flail with eager strength, he lost his grip on the thing and it went flying down the corridor towards the mess hall. “Uh… I meant to do that!” (1)
Laarus of Ra stepped in before the thing could take advantage of Tim’s sudden loss of weapon, slamming it in the face with his own flail. Telémahkos moved in to flank, dancing about with his rapier drawn, stabbing and retreating
“T.K. Get out of there!” Timotheus warned, as he drew his sabre. The frog-thing bit at him, but his armor repulsed the blow, but now Victoria moved in, having dropped her long spear; slamming at it with a morningstar. And Tymon, long sword drawn, moved in as well. It was surrounded and a moment later they cried out as it exploded in all directions, burning Tymon, Telémahkos and Laarus who did not get out the way in time.
“Hmmm, I think that went pretty well,” Timotheus said, smiling and taking his helmet off to wipe the sweat from his brow. Blood and dirt were smeared on his face. He was breathing hard, and beneath his dented armor, he was covered in bloody bruises.
“You look like you are going to die,” Telémahkos replied.
“Well, that happens in this business,” Tim said.
“It burns!” Telie said, suddenly wiping at a bit of the frog-ooze that dripped from his hair onto his shoulder.
“Aw! Don’t be such a baby!” Tim admonished playfully.
“Let’s see what they were distracting us from,” Victoria said, leading the way into the chamber the things had emerged from.
Telémahkos rushed into a corner and felt the hard lumps of the morning’s oatmeal come up and out of his mouth when he saw the entrails stretched about the former smuggler’s mess hall. They were twisted and chewed and the contents squeezed out. The chamber was truly a mess, with cracked bones, chipped wooden plates and smashed tables and benches. In one corner was pudgy black iron stove with a flue that went up into a crack in the ceiling.
Markos muttered a question regarding Telémahkos’ manhood, and Victoria glared at him. When he had gotten a hold of himself, Telémahkos, made his way over to the stove to see if anything or anyone was hidden back there, while Timotheus, lantern in one hand and sabre in the other, was led by Victoria down a narrow corridor-like cavern towards another room.
Victoria was startled as he heard a clatter on the darkened rock above her. Timotheus raised the lantern in time to see a long green and black lithe but misshaped reptilian form covered in alternate lizard hide and the rubbery flesh of the frog-things. It had a bulbous frog-head with an immense mouth filled with jagged teeth, but it had the short powerful arms of a lizardfolk, with black dripping claws. It let out a horrifying hiss-croak as it dropped. Biting Victoria deeply on the shoulder as it knocked her back.
“Draw it back into the room!” Victoria said, as she withdrew and Timotheus gave her room by backing up. Bleys hearing the commotion hurried over and waited with heavy crossbow loaded and aimed at the doorway.
“Master!” Tymon called to Telémahkos who was still looking in the deep far corner of the room.
“C’mon, you big slimy frog-f*cker!” Timotheus taunted as he came out into the room. Victoria grunted as her armor absorbed more blows from the thing’s claws and bite, backing into the mess hall as well. Bleys’ bolt cracked as it struck the stone wall above the thing’s head. Tymon fired a bolt that missed as well, but Markos’ hit the mark. Like the other froggish aberrations, this thing seemed oblivious to pain; its only motive force was a savage intent to devour and destroy.
“It must have been a lizardfolk before it was changed into a frog-thing like the smugglers,” Bleys said, starting to load his heavy crossbow again, as Timotheus rushed at the monster. But it leapt, springing on its muscular rear legs to brush the ceiling as it passed over the tall veteran, and land with a devastating bite to poor Tymon. The poor hireling did not even get a chance to look up from reloading his crossbow.
“Tymon!” Telémahkos cried as he came over and placed his lantern the floor away from the melee.
“Sagitta magicus! Markos cast, and a translucent arrow of blue watery light slammed into the lizard-frog.
Timotheus charged into it, allowing Tymon to withdraw, clutching at his many wounds. Tim’s sword slammed against it several times but its hide was warped and scabbing over from constant bursting blisters and green and yellow vibrating tendrils flicking caustic ichor, it was hard to cut. “Nephthys! Guard me!” he grunted a prayer. Laarus came around to flank the thing, and suffered a rending bite for it, even as his flail blows were knocked away by the thing’s sheer ferocity.
Tim gave some ground, and as the creature turned to claw him, it stumbled, twisting its ankle. (2) It limped on, oblivious to the pain. Timotheus set down his lamp and dropped his sword, drawing his flail. “C’mere, ya egg-sucking fiend!” Bleys let off a shot when he got an opening, but missed again, while Telémahkos continued to keep his distance, telling Tymon to do the same.
Victoria finally had room to maneuver and bring her long spear to bear. She stabbed it in the chest, drawing a gush of green blood. She pushed it back as Laarus and Tim bashed at it ineffectually. Suddenly, Telémahkos came tumbling past in front of Victoria, yelling for her not to stab him. He should have been more concerned with the monster. As he rolled up to his feet and thrust his rapier, he over extended himself, allowing the beast to lean over and bite him deeply in the side. A moment later, Telie was bleeding out on the damp sand strewn floor, amid the scattered intestines.
“Fall!” Laarus tried to command the thing in the name of Ra, as he stepped back But if it understood, it did not obey.
“Someone save Master Telémahkos!” Tymon cried out nervously, firing his crossbow and missing.
“Veneficus talum! Bleys chanted an arrow of white translucent light slammed into the beast unerringly.
As Victoria kneeled to close Telie’s wounds with a touch and a quick prayer to Anhur, Markos fired his crossbow again, and this time when the bolt buried itself in the thing’s chest. It drooped forward for a moment as if about to fall, and then suddenly exploded with new ferocity, the hard crests on its lizard back bursting into madly flicking yellow tendrils.
Laarus stepped back in amid the chaos and smashed it in the side of the head.
“If it drops it will explode like the others! Some one get Telémahkos out of the way!” Timotheus warned, stepping forward to smash his flail in the frogman-lizard’s face, as it clawed him.
It wavered, and as it fell, it reached up and ripped at Timotheus’ leg with its teeth, dragging the big warrior down. The pool of blood collecting around him, showed that he would not be getting back up without help. There was a sudden frenzy as the fear of the thing’s explosion into caustic ichor might kill Telémahkos and Tim occurred to them. Victoria bravely leapt upon the dead lizard thing, covering its body with her own, to absorb as much of the explosion herself, even as Tymon covered Telie as well. Markos was able to slam a broken piece of table between the dead thing and Telémahkos and his manservant just as it exploded, feeling some of the burn himself even as he shielded them.
Victoria rolled onto her back panting, the front of her armor scored by the ichor, and dozens of tiny round burns evident on her face and neck. Laarus was the only other one to take significant damage, and he was now unconscious as well. Victoria called to Anhur, “To see that your servants live to serve you another day…” And Laarus was kept from his descent through death’s door, while Bleys began to bind Tim’s wounds. Victoria came over and helped.
They dragged the wounded back to the beach on over-turned tables from the mess hall. They were placed as comfortably as possible down in the hold of the Sea Wyvern, and Markos made the sloop ready for setting sail. Bleys, Victoria and Tymon tried to push the boat off the bank twice, but it would not budge.
“I’m not sure we can do this, Markos,” Victoria said.
“You’re pathetic,” Markos spat back. Bleys frowned, and Victoria just ignored the slight.
The three of them pushed again, and then again, but still the sloop would not move. It was wedged deeply in the black sand.
“Whu… Why don’t…” Tymon swallowed his words.
“Yes, Tymon?” Bleys asked, wiping his brow of sweat.
“Why doesn’t Master Markos jump out and help us push?” The servant said. “If three of us could not do it, perhaps four could…”
“Every little bit helps,” Victoria said, looking up to the sailor-mage.
Markos sighed deeply and jumped off the sloop to help push. It only took one try.
“Told you,” Tymon said, smugly. “It was only a matter of apply the proper force to the mass…”
Markos brought the sloop about thirty feet from the beach and they dropped anchor. Victoria went down below to get some rest and tend to the wounded with Tymon’s help, as Bleys and Markos hunkered down behind the gunwales and kept watch – taking turning looking out beyond the cove and into the beach
The Sea Wyvern bobbed up and down turning this way and that in the swirling currents and eddies of the cove, but was held in place by the dropped anchor. The hull was painted a dull purple and the foresail was a yellow color with a dark purple draconic figure rising out of a stylized wave.
A couple of hours later, Markos hissed to Bleys and pointed out a small bidpedal creature that was stalking the beach. It was vaguely reptilian, with a long tail and powerful rear legs and short foreclaws, but its head was that of a misshapen frog, and its scaly hide was patched here and there with rubbery frog skin.
“Someone brought something here they should not have,” Bleys whispered as they watched the thing, sniff around a pile of crates and then smash through them. It looked powerful despite not being more than four feet tall. The creature hopped over to the walkway the party had entered the cove from and it disappeared up there for a time, but emerged again and went back into the caves.
Hours passed slowly. In the late afternoon Telémahkos and Laarus of Ra awakened achingly.
“So cold… so cold…” Telémahkos complained. “Tell Wilhelmina…”
“Who’s Wilemina?” Tymon asked, draping another blanked over Telie. “You are going to be okay, master…” Tymon explained how Markos had protected Telie and Tim from the exploding lizard-frog-thing with a piece of a table.
“Is there any reason why we should stay?” Markos asked the others.
“To see what caused this,” Bleys replied. “If it is a disease, we may be exposed, and thus we should not return to civilization until we know for certain…”
Victoria agreed.
“I may not even survive the night,” Telémahkos croaked. No one paid his complaints any mind.
Markos brought the Sea Wyvern another forty-five feet away from the beach, and a few hours later Timotheus awoke.
“Hey is everyone alright?” He asked, looking over to where Telémahkos lay in one of the hammocks. “Killer, are you okay?”
Telie just groaned.
“Hey! I killed that thing didn’t I?” Tim said, remembering the battle with the lizard-frog. “I’m great!” He said with a smile.
More rest was needed. The two mages continued their watch, and everyone else went back to sleep after chewing on some rations, and rain began to fill the cove with steam, smothering the remaining burning patches of burning whale oil.
Bleys the Aubergine pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and kept Timotheus’ longbow across his lap, covered from the damp. He sighed and standing, went to the rear of the sloop to relieve himself. As he returned, Markos cried out and pointed into the water in the direction of the beach. Bleys squinted, by portside stern. Two… No, three of the frogmen were reaching up to climb on to the boat.
“Isis, bless us!” With a foot up on the gunwale, Bleys Winter drew an arrow in Timotheus’ longbow and sent an arrow to bury itself in the climbing creature’s shoulder. It fell back into the water flailing, the water around it hissing where its ichor-blood touched it. “We are besieged!”
A bolt from Markos’ crossbow sent another splashing to the water, but it only delayed the creatures. They were soon making for the boat edge again. The third creature made it to the deck, but as it stood, another arrow from Bleys sent it careening off the sloop as well.
Casting mage armor, Markos ran around to the starboard side and called down into a porthole. “Wake the f*ck up!”
“We should draw them into the hold where only one can reach us at a time,” Bleys said. One of the frog-things, looking like green death itself, leapt onto the deck and bit the watch-mage as he dropped the bow and drew his saber.
Below, first to awaken, Victoria of Anhur in her nightshirt and trousers and cloak, came to the steps up to the deck spear in hand. There was confusion in the hold as the others awakened, hearing the commotion above but unable to see in the darkness. Timotheus called for someone to light a lantern as he fumbled around for his sword and shield.
“Tymon! Light a lamp!” Telémahkos echoed his cousin, his voice shrill with terror, as he grabbed his rapier and made his way to the end of the hold furthest from the hatch.
“Down! Down, foul beasts!” Bleys yelled, forgetting his usual cold demeanor in the desperation of battle. “You will find me most indigestible!” He hacked at them as they came in from either side of him, but his blows seemed to do little, as he drew back. Suddenly, Laarus of Ra came bursting out of the hold in his nightshirt and shield, and slammed one in the side of the face. The creature bit at him, and he leapt back. It slammed into the side of the entrance to the hold, and then fell over into the water.
Markos Ackers hurried down into the hold.
“Anhur, since you choose to throw challenges upon me, give me the wherewithal to face them!” Victoria prayed, and suddenly the head of her spear shone as if with torchlight. It was just in time to cast wild shadows as Laarus smashed another one of the things, but his arm was caught and yanked with great violence as the frog-thing made its final bite in its death throes. The priest of Ra collapsed, inches away from death’s door, but still conscious. (3) He crawled back down the steps of the hold to avoid the area of the thing’s ichor explosion, and Bleys followed him, protecting the unarmored priest with the mage armor spell.
The deck hissed as droplets of the caustic ichor splattered everywhere, leaving tiny pockmarks in the wood. Another of the frog-men came around the corner and began the awkward climb down the steps into the hold. Laarus and Bleys made room for Victoria, who thrust her spear through the thing’s swollen neck from a safe distance with the reach of her spear. It exploded, marking the wood around it, but not hurting anyone. She stepped forward, wondering if any were left, when the one that fell overboard appeared at the top of the stairs. She finished it with another spear thrust, and withdrew to let it explode as well.
“Let’s take this opportunity to move the ship further away from the beach… Shall we?” Markos said, hurrying out onto the deck to get things ready. Tymon and Telémahkos moved to help him, while Bleys and the others kept watch.
They sailed an hour to the southwest, leaving the cove far behind in the darkness of night. They lay anchor, and Tymon took the second watch while the young nobles rested.
I really liked the last two updates. The group really shines especially in the last one, maybe because they don't get to bicker so much (though they still do-which is great) and get to kick some great ass against weird frog mutants (especially Victoria comes of as very capable).
Loved the scene when one of the things in the mess is about to expode and desperate measures are taken to save the unconscious members.
I sadly don't own the adventure (The issue is sold out everywhere in germany I've looked so far), though I have the two thereafter and played the first adventure in a PBP.
How likely is it that we'll see the third adventure as well? I thought it read great (I'll definitely try to integrate it in my next campaign) and it would definitely be a hoot with this group.
How likely is it that we'll see the third adventure as well? I thought it read great (I'll definitely try to integrate it in my next campaign) and it would definitely be a hoot with this group.
If the opportunity presents itself, then I will run the third adventure (the only other one I own, I think - i might own the fourth one) as it will be appropriate. . . But if so, it will not happen for an other level or two.
Overall, my version of the Savage Tide is based on the outline given in the issue before the first adventure was printed, and what reading that inspired.
Oh yeah, compliment the priestess, not the fighter. Timotheus gets no respect!
Seriously though, she is capable and competent, even if she does tend to be quiet and a bit socially awkward. Anhur smiles upon her. Plus, it's sort of a rule that the less someone talks in general, the more attention you pay when they actually do speak up.
I too enjoyed the action in the last two posts. The complications of the exploding corpses is a nice touch to the battles. And the bickering makes more sense when there is actually something going on to bicker about.
Session #7 – “Negotiations & Love Songs” (Part 1 of 3) (1)
Ralem, the 22nd of Sek – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
Timotheus stirred and made his way up onto the deck where Victoria was keeping watch. Laarus, always an early riser, was quietly praying to Ra for his spells. The priest of Ra faced east on his knees, arms stretched out before him.
“Hey Victoria! Wanna lay those healing hands on me?” Timotheus asked the militant, sounding lascivious. She scowled at him, but soon curing spells were doled out all the way around, except for Markos who had recovered remarkably well.
Telémahkos and Timotheus praised Ra and Anhur as a way of thanking their priestly companions, and the former gave Laarus a couple of coins to bring to the church in his name.
The priest was surprised.
“Look!” Laarus pointed to the southwest. At the edge of their vision a glint of red became the billow of a sail, and then the distant blurred form turned to the east and hovered for a while like a mirage.
“Are those oars?” Victoria asked.
“I think so,” Markos replied. “That is a big ship… A lot bigger than us… Is it safe to assume we don’t want to be seen if we can avoid it?”
“Can you see their colors? Who do you think they are?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t know,” Markos said.
“Pirates?” Timotheus speculated.
“I don’t know,” Markos said. “They could be anybody…”
“But we should be able to tell who they are by their colors, correct?” Victoria asked.
“I do not know who they are,” Markos said, with exasperation. “We have no way of guessing who they are unless they were closer, but we don’t want them closer. So can we please stop talking about ‘who they are’ and move on to ‘what are we going to do’? And if everybody agrees that we want to avoid contact, I’d like to set sail right away…”
“Can we avoid them?” Victoria asked.
“We can certainly try,” Markos replied with condescension. “Does anybody object…? No? Good.” He set to getting the sloop ready to go.
“But we don’t want to look like we’re running away,” Timotheus complained. “If they’re looking for trouble a sign of weakness will certainly attract them…”
“Don’t worry,” Markos replied, rolling his eyes. “I’ll sail casual…” He turned the sloop north for some time, until the other ship was way out of sight.
As he took down the sail with Tymon’s help, Markos frowned at the gaudy and obvious markings on it, and called to the others. “We’re going to want to change this sail at first opportunity… Uh, it’s of poor quality, and the hull needs some work, so when that is done, might as well repaint it, too.”
“I’m sorry, have we decided what we plan to do with this vessel?” Victoria asked. “Are we keeping it?”
“We’re gonna sell it,” Timotheus said.
“Yes, if we plan to keep it and sell it, then we should probably change the sail and re-paint the hull,” Markos said.
“We can sail it back to Schiereiland and then go fight hobgoblins,” Timotheus suggested with his usual smile.
“At this point, hobgoblins sounds good to me,” Telémahkos sighed.
“That’s two votes for hobgoblins!” Tim cheered.
“This ship may have a rightful owner,” Victoria said. “And if that can be determined then it will need to be returned to them. We should not be premature.”
“It would be impossible to ever determine this ship’s rightful owner, even if there is one,” Markos said.
“Are there not registries for such things?” Victoria asked. Markos sneered, as he’d hoped she might not know of such things because of her unfamiliarity with sea travel. “Ships are costly…” She turned to the priest of Ra, “Brother Laarus, where is your mind on this matter?”
“Well…” Laarus began, but Markos jumped in. “Think about where we found this ship! In a smuggler’s cover and everybody was dead!”
“If we should return to Kraken’s Cove and find the owners dead or pirates, it is within the law for us to claim this as booty,” Laarus of Ra said. “But if we can find out who really owns this sloop then justice will be served one way or another.”
“And like I said, it will be near impossible to determine,” Markos said.
“Jozef Winter is the Harbormaster of Sluetelot,” Bleys the Aubergine said, speaking up on the subject for the first time. “I am certain he would allow me to peruse the registries there…”
Markos Ackers threw his hands up in the air in defeat.
“Should we not be heading back to the Cove to finish our work there?” Bleys asked, changing the subject of the conversation.
As Timotheus Smith was still injured and the priests had used all their daily granted spells to heal the others, it was agreed to wait another full day before returning to the cove, despite Bleys’ desire otherwise. Telémahkos suggested returning to Tribunisport and altogether forgetting the cove, but no one took his suggestion seriously.
“I think at the very least it would be prudent for us to anchor closer to the cove so we might see if any ships arrive, or any that might have arrived in our absence, leave,” Bleys said. Victoria and Laarus agreed, but Markos was against it, fearing that if a ship did come not only would they be able to see it, but it would be able to see them. Telémahkos agreed, but was also curious about the activities of the frog-men themselves.
“Smugliwugs,” Bleys said.
“What?” asked Victoria.
“I heard Timotheus refer to them as smugliwugs,” the watch-mage said, never breaking a smile while saying the silly word.
Markos called for a vote, and the majority went with Bleys. Once again, Markos made ready to move the sloop.
By mid-morning the Sea Wyvern was within sight of the cove entrance, but just north of it. The beach itself was obscured by the shadow of the bluff and the glare of the sun, but if anything of a reasonable size came or went, the signers of the Charter of Schiereiland would be able to see it. Markos did most of the sailing himself, enlisting the aid of Tymon or Timotheus with terse instructions, while Telémahkos and Bleys were down in the hold, the latter having asked the former to talk privately.
Meanwhile, Markos and Timotheus had a long detailed talk about tactics that left the former exasperated. Markos wanted to develop an elaborate method for striking at opponents in a coordinated fashion, but Timotheus was skeptical.
“Battle can be too chaotic for that,” Timotheus said. “Better if we just have a tactical leader that can assess the situation and everybody listens to in those circumstances.”
“True, but we should still have some sort of plan set up,” Markos found ways to disagree even when he agreed, and went on to bore the veteran soldier with the details of how he thought tactics should work. Tim humored him.
Below, Bleys the Aubergine pressed Telémahkos about the origins of his information about the plot against House Wetherwax, and Telie admitted that he might have been too hasty in making the connection between the rumor of the attack and coming from Kraken’s Cove. (2)
“Could the attack on the royal navy come from another venue?” Bleys asked. “Could it not be the result of some political deceits and deceptions? Some internal feud that would be more difficult to entangle than the mere motives of some pirates?”
“It certainly could be,” Telémahkos replied. He went on to explain some of the on-going disagreements, machinations and struggles for power that happened in his own noble house. “But what makes you think that it is…?”
“I warn you, that what you hear from me now, I cannot further corroborate or attest to how I should have come upon its knowledge. These are words shared only between us, but I can confirm reports of just such a threat." Bleys the Aubergine said, taking Telie by surprise.
“On House Wetherwax?” Telie asked, in shock.
“Yes,” said Bleys
“And is it to be perpetrated by one of our member Houses?” Telémahkos asked.
“Not Briareus or Ostrander, nor Raymer have any direct dealings in the matter,” Bleys replied with specificity. “The Houses involved are further removed…”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Telémahkos replied with a wink.
There were raised voices from above and their conversation was interrupted, as the distant red-sailed ship had been spotted again. A faultless bird had landed up on the mast, and Markos climbed up to see if it bore a message, he noticed the glint of growing red. It was coming from the northwest now, cutting in such a way that they could see the change in light along its side as its many oars rose high into the air rhythmically.
Markos had Timotheus raise the sail as he and Tymon, with Laarus’ help, got the sails ready to move the sloop again, to anchor in a position south of the cove entrance.
“Telie and Bleys sure have been down there a long time,” Timotheus commented.
“Maybe they are alleviating their loneliness with Thrician kissing,” Markos laughed. (3)
“That happens at sea,” Tymon said without a hint of irony, which caused Markos and Tim to laugh even harder. Even Laarus cracked a smile, but Victoria did not appreciate the humor.
Telémahkos and Bleys only paused to listen to the commotion above. Since no one called them and there was no sound of danger, they continued.
“You know, talking with you now and thinking back to the times I met you when we were younger, I have to wonder what happened to the boy I knew…” Telémahkos said with growing familiarity. “I just remember you playing at knights with us even though you were a little older… You just seemed carefree back then and full of joy…”
“Do you think I wanted to become a watch-mage?” Bleys asked rhetorically. “You, more than anyone here, should know that I only ever wanted to become the stalwart knight, like warriors of old, in defense of hearth, home and kingdom. Like Hogarth, my older brother, my father before him, and his father, but alas, as it was, my father had other plans for me. And as it is, I know my duty, for we too are ‘Proud to Serve." (4)
“You are a bigger man than me, but we are more alike than you think,” Telie replied with a sigh. “Do you believe that by joining this Charter I am fulfilling my own desires and not the design of my father? I do not know if I have the fortitude to always obey my father’s wishes as you do with yours…"
“And what of your duty to Paulien and her children?” Bleys asked. (5) “That is the most important duty you can fulfill in my eyes…”
“Your sister, niece and nephew will have a place of honor second only to my own wife and children if I establish my own estate," Telémahkos replied.
“She is your sister, they are your niece and nephew as well,” Bleys reminded his companion. “She went to your family and is the widow of your brother…”
Telémahkos nodded his understanding. “And that is why I want to establish my own keep in the Disputed Territories and have my own means. And it for that reason I have to pay the political game and keep aware of the dirt swirling around us…”
“Long I have resisted opening my mind to the machinations of the noble houses and the others that would have power, but it would seem if I am to fulfill my role as watch-mage, I have no choice…”
A little later as Telémahkos came back up onto the deck as they passed the cove entrance seeking a new anchoring spot, they heard a loud hammering echoing from the dark shadows within. It had a quick violent rhythm, and it stopped suddenly, though a few of the young nobles thought they might have heard it more faintly and even more briefly.
“Perhaps it is a survivor, devising a way to leave the cove,” Laarus suggested.
“You think they’re building a ship?” Timotheus said with his typical broad smile and playful wink. He ran his fingers across his cropped red hair, thinking it was growing out of its soldier’s length.
“A raft!” Telémahkos replied.
“Then we should go and deal with it,” Timotheus replied, getting serious. “We don’t want those things sailing away…”
“And get killed on the beach before we have barely gotten off the sloop… Good idea,” Telémahkos replied with obvious sarcasm.
Since the hammering had stopped and they knew they could see anything coming out of the cove they decided to continued to wait and spend their day resting. Afternoon was growing long, as Ra’s Glory disappeared behind the tall bluff of the shore, and the hours stretched out into infinitesimal degrees of darkness that crept in from the east.
Bleys the Aubergine and Telémahkos Briareus took the first watch together, and continued their friendly talk in careful voices that never became the harsh hissing of whispers. Some time in the middle of their watch their heard the echo of the hammering again. It was longer this time, and not too long a silence passed before they heard it again. They waited expectantly for the sound to come again, but it did not, and after a time they continued with their talk, Telémahkos telling Bleys about his ambitious cousins the Ethons. (6)
Hours later as the second watch became the third, they heard some brief hammering that was stopped by a great roaring croak echo out of the cove.
“Has that hammering and roaring been going on all night?” Laarus asked.
“No, they heard the hammering on first watch, but the roar is something new,” Timotheus explained to the priest.
Isilem, the 23rd of Sek – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
Sometime after dawn, the signers of the Charter of Schiereiland made ready to return to the cove. Laarus and Victoria prayed for spells, while Timotheus prepared arrows with strips of cloth he had left steeped in oil overnight, hoping his makeshift incendiary arrows would help against the savage frog-men. After some more healing was doled out, they all heard the croaking roar echo out of the dim cove once again.
“What is that?” Timotheus asked.
“More than likely it is the most lizard-like thing that Markos and I saw when we were standing watch the other night,” Bleys replied. “It was some kind of two-legged reptilian beast, but like the smugliwugs its head was like a bloated savage frog, and its back was covered in the undulating tendrils and bursting boils…”
“When we return we will go back in the way we did the other day,” Timotheus said, as they went over their plan. “I think we should avoid the rail bridge if possible…”
“And I don’t think anyone should assume that this roaring creature operates the same as the… ahem… smugliwugs did,” Victoria said, obviously annoyed with herself for using the silly term Tim had come up with and that Bleys had adopted.
“Do you mean that it may have different abilities?” Tim asked.
“It may be the thing that turned all the others into those frog-creatures,” Markos said. “It may be a cursed creature that broke free…”
“In that case we need to be prepared to kill it as fast as possible without it getting a chance to bite any of us,” Timotheus replied.
“Oh, that’s really smart,” Markos replied sarcastically. “You go first…”
Timotheus smirked with his typical good humor. He continued his tactical planning. “I want the wizards to use all their magics on it right away. Don’t hold back.”
Markos and Bleys nodded.
They drove the Sea Wyvern onto the shore, and it was decided that Telémahkos and Tymon would wait with the sloop to make sure that if anyone did survive they did not steal the ship while the party explored the caverns. Telie stood at the prow of the boat with his heavy crossbow in hand, while Tymon was on the beach itself, ready to push the boat out and jump on if trouble arrived.
The beach seemed even more littered before, and they could see the obvious signs of someone having scavenged, dragged and gathered the largest planks of wood they could find into a pile. A hammer and a sack of nails were beside the incomplete frame of a raft. What appeared to be the most recent plank added was cracked near the middle, but the raft did not look large enough to hold more than two, or perhaps three people. There were some sacks of oats and three large casks of fresh water nearby as well.
Meanwhile Timotheus and Victoria led the way into the cavern, with Laarus right behind, followed by Bleys and Markos. Past the cavern that served as a mess hall (7) they took the dark narrow passage to the right, which opened into a large chamber obviously once used as a place to display and trade wares. Along the southern wall (which was the side they entered on) were wooden racks set with bolts of silk, trailed out and pinned to a lower piece of wood to show the quality of the material. There was somewhere about a dozen thick rolls of silk, but most were splattered with blood and gore, or burned by the acidic ichor of dying frog-men. In one corner was a large set of scales, and across from the silks was a wooden stage reached by three small steps, and three large rugs were piled next to it, though one was unfurled and stained. Near the center of the chamber where several smashed crates and barrels of water, wine and beer, though some looked salvageable. Lanterns hung at various places on the walls, and some were taken to help light the way.
A loud croaking reverberated from a hall across from where they had entered. Out on the beach, Telémahkos heard it emanating in from the enclosed beach on the other side of the rail bridge, and growing scared, he had Tymon push the sloop into the water and hop on. Soon the two were scrambling to keep the boat from spinning slowing out of the cove with a long hooked pole.
The rest of the signers of the Charter of Schiereiland moved towards that stony corridor to makes sure they were not snuck up on by any of the creatures. Markos held everyone up as he noted a crate by the scales there in there corner, where rectangular stains told the tale of something that had been set out to dry there, but had been removed.
“Looks like it was books,” Victoria Ostrander said, as she was covering the group’s rear. She turned to Bleys. “Could they have been spellbooks?”
The watch-mage shrugged his shoulders. They had not gone far down the narrow corridor, when two of the savage frog-men came hopping at them. These looked slightly different than the one they had fought two days before. They were naked, and one of them clearly had been a human woman in her previous life, as she still had one human breast lined with rubbery and blistered frog hide. The other’s twisted human genitalia dripped the caustic ichor that seemed to permeate the flesh of these creatures.
(2) Telémahkos actually had no reason to believe this was the case except that Lavinia told him her brother might be involved in an attack and later Telie found out that Vanthus had gone to Kraken’s Cove.
(3) ‘Thrician Kissing’ is, of course, tongue-kissing.
(4) ‘Proud to Serve’ are the words of House Devenpeck and are on their coat of arms. Bleys’ branch of the Winter Family serves the Devenpecks.
(5) Paulien is Bleys’ older sister, widow of Telémahkos’ older brother, Jason.
(6) The Ethons are one of the lesser families of House Briareus, and are usually very much involved in mercantile trade.
(7) This is the room where the signers of the Charter of Schiereiland fought the transformed lizardfolk in Session #6.
Just a quick note to say that I'm following along and caught up after this weekend. I wouldn't want Telie feeling neglected, after all.
One thing about reading nem's campaigns is that they always get me thinking about how I'd try to build my characters for the kind of adversity these characters always seem to face. (And how I'd try to make a character who was agreeable / easy to get along with, like Tim, so as to avoid some of the bickering, but that's another story).
I'm always a huge fan of the amount of emphasis terrain gets in your campaigns, as well. The walkway, the cramped tunnels, etc.
Honestly, with all the emphasis on grittiness, terrain, armor damage, etc., I always think that nem would be an ideal GM for a Riddle of Steel game.
Anyway, thanks for writing this up. I'm enjoying the action so far, and looking forward to more of it.
Just a quick note to say that I'm following along and caught up after this weekend. I wouldn't want Telie feeling neglected, after all.
Telie appreciates it, I am sure.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pyske
One thing about reading nem's campaigns is that they always get me thinking about how I'd try to build my characters for the kind of adversity these characters always seem to face. (And how I'd try to make a character who was agreeable / easy to get along with, like Tim, so as to avoid some of the bickering, but that's another story).
So. .. What would it be?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pyske
I'm always a huge fan of the amount of emphasis terrain gets in your campaigns, as well. The walkway, the cramped tunnels, etc.
Actually, most of the environment for this adventure was already in the module, I just followed its logical conclusion.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pyske
Honestly, with all the emphasis on grittiness, terrain, armor damage, etc., I always think that nem would be an ideal GM for a Riddle of Steel game.
One of these days I may run my late 3rd Age Ermainian Islands campaign, which was when the Kingdom of Herman Land was founded. At that time they were behind the spell-casting curve, so it would be something like those old Conan stories with distant civilizations of powerful sorcerers, while the PCs would be poor bare-chested sword-wielding noble savages
Quote:
Originally Posted by Pyske
Anyway, thanks for writing this up. I'm enjoying the action so far, and looking forward to more of it.
I am glad you are liking it. Expect another installment later today. . .
Session #7 - “Negotiations & Love Songs” (part 2 of 3)
There was the snap of a crossbow string as the female one was struck right in the neck by one of Markos’ bolts; the force of it driving her to the ground. The other rushed forward, biting at Timotheus, who struck back with his flail, calling for Laarus to fill in the ranks beside him. The priest of Ra complied, but the blows of his own flail bounced off the thing’s rubbery hide. The other one was on her feet with incredible speed, croaking angrily as her jagged teeth tore at Laarus.
“Laarus, fall back!” Timotheus said, keeping his opponent at bay as he withdrew some himself. “Victoria! Fill in the second rank!”
As Laarus complied again, Markos was able to find a gap in the line wide enough to throw a spear he had grabbed from Victoria, but the weapon clattered harmlessly against the wall. Bleys the Aubergine was trapped back in the large chamber, unable to reach the melee, but Victoria was able to come forward, crowding into the corridor with Laarus and Timotheus, and thrust her spear at the things, but the close quarters confounded her.
They all withdrew as a group, with Laarus, Tim and Victoria each filling in the gap left by the other as they pulled back, exchanging blows with the monsters. Finally, Laarus landed a solid and skull-crushing blow on the female one, and then leapt back to avoid the bite of her death throes. They all withdrew to avoid the explosion of her flesh, but Victoria suffered a severe bite for her reckless speed.
As they reached the corner of the hall that led back into the trade chamber, Laarus grunted as he was bitten even worse than Victoria had been. The militant of Anhur dropped her spear and drew a morningstar, as there was even less room here, but once again she left herself temporarily open and suffered another horrible bite. Blood was pouring down her leg.
It seemed the creature would not die. It absorbed their blows with angry croaks, and bit at them again and again without fear of death. In fact, it bore so many wounds, it looked like it should have been long dead already. Finally, Timotheus felt the thing’s spine crack as the head of his flail whipped around to catch it about the waist. Everyone leapt clear before it exploded.
Back at the beach, Telémahkos and Tymon were desperately trying to get the sloop back to the beach with the hooked pole.
Bleys moved to a corridor on left side at the top of the trade chamber, just beyond the racks of silk. He had found that two of the bolts were undamaged; one was cornsilk yellow, and the other a deep near-black purple that matched his unique watch-mage’s robes. He carried them over to the stage and put them out of the way with some casks of ale the party gathered to bring back to the boat later.
All this time there had been a snorting and muffled croaking sound broken up by intermittent banging up a corridor in the southwestern corner of the trade chamber. The watch-mage raised his lantern and noticed that there was passageway on the left about twenty-five feet up the hall. It seemed blocked by some kind of tall wooden furniture, and something on the other side was slamming into it violently. It shuddered again, as he withdrew to tell the others.
“It looks like someone shoved a bookcase or something in the way to trap some monster in that room, and it is going to get out very soon,” Bleys said, as he suddenly started gathering all the ruined silk. “Someone was damn lucky or quick… Or both…” He hurried down the hall and started to bunch the silk in front of the bookcase, and then poured a flask of oil atop it.
“Good idea!” Timotheus encouraged him when he realized the watch-mage’s plan. Bleys smashed several lanterns worth of oil upon the silks and against the back of the bookcase.
Whatever was on the other side of the bookcase grew more frantic in its blows against the blockage, and Bleys withdrew, loaded crossbow in one hand and lit torch in the other.
“Maybe someone else should throw the torch so we might use our magic missiles right away on this creature, for I fear it will be the most deadly of them all,” Markos suggested.
“Fine,” Bleys replied. The torch was handed over to Timotheus, who had his shield out, but sheathed his sabre. Victoria and Laarus moved in behind them, with Markos nearby. The bookcase shuddered again and began to tilt into the room beyond and push the oil-soaked silks out into the hallway. The thing within let out a howl of rage that ended with a burping croak.
“Heroes of Thricia! Prepare for battle,” Victoria cried, as she called on Anhur to bless the group.
They still had not gotten a good look at the creature, for the bookcase landed on its back with all its weight and it bellowed again. As Laarus of Ra called to his god to grant him protection from chaos, Timotheus threw the torch and the pile of silks burst brightly into flame. The creature croaked again, as it squirmed out from under the bookcase, dragging burning silks with it.
It was some form of bipedal reptile, but not humanoid like a lizardfolk. Its body hung low near the ground and it head, whatever it might have once been, was now a tooth-lined frogmouth slavering; its long tongue lolling to one side, singed. It had small muscled arms that ended in black claws that matched the large ones on its froggish feet. As it approached, they could see the splotches of rubbery frog skin along with lizard-like hide, and a tadpole tail. It was about four feet high and made of packed muscle, and all on its back were flicking yellow and black tendrils and bursting boils of the smugliwugs.
Markos and Bleys let loose with their crossbows, but neither bolt hit. They drew back.
“It’s gonna be mad,” Timotheus warned as he reached for his sword. The thing was upon Timotheus in one sudden leap. The cavern was filled with the protest of Tim’s armor against the black talons, but the warrior was unable to get his shield high enough, and the frog mouth crunched down on his helmeted head.
“Come on! C’mon, ya crazy beast!” Timotheus goaded it, falling back to give himself room to draw his sword and ready his defense. Victoria was praying to Anhur to enchant her spear.
“Veneficus Telum! Bleys chanted. “Sagitta aquam! Markos joined his voice, and from each shot an arrow of light (though Markos’ was blue fluid light, leaving a trail of momentary droplets as it flew) that plunged unerringly into the creature, drawing moist bruises that oozed caustic ichor.
“Come on, beastie!! Victoria cried, letting the righteous fury of her deity fill her. Her arms swelled with strength, and she charged with great vigor, but the creature ducked the thrust of the long spear. “Come face the fury of Anhur!”
“Fall back! We want to surround it!” Timotheus called tactics to the warrior-priestess.
“Victoria! I don’t know if you can understand us, but listen to Tim!” Markos called to his companion with real worry in his voice. “Pull back!”
But it was too late, the thing leapt suddenly to its left and rent great jagged scars in Victoria’s armor, drawing blood. Talons punctured her leg, and Tim could see the kneecap split, as Victoria fell. The thing bit deep on her left arm.
Timotheus yelled and banged on his shield, drawing the thing towards him, and Laarus stepped over quickly to stabilize the dying militant of Anhur with an orison. (1)
“We’re screwed if you wizards don’t pull something out of your asses to save us!” Timotheus cried, as his sword blows failed to pierce the thing’s thick hide.
“Veneficus Telum! Bleys chanted again, and another magic missle struck the thing. It roared and swiped at Tim catching him across the forehead, and sending his helmet off into the room. (2)
Markos and Bleys took turns trying to pepper it with bolts, one firing as the other loaded. Laarus picked up Victoria’s spear, barely avoiding an errant bite from the beast, and took to fighting with it, to keep the thing at bay. He thrust the spearhead into the lizard-frog’s side, as it dragged Timotheus off his feet, clawing his thighs. Tim was bleeding out.
The two wizards, out of spells that could help, spread out, firing bolts from either side of the cave, as Laarus drew the creature back into the center of the trade chamber, absorbing blow after blow, and bleeding profusely, as he thrust Victoria’s enchanted spear at it again and again.
Markos stepped into the hall leading back to the beach. It was the right hand fork in the corridor where they originally went left to enter the mess hall. And as he re-loaded his crossbow, he wondered if he would have to flee if his companions all fell.
Suddenly, he spun around, hearing something behind him. It was Telémahkos and Tymon hustling up from the beach.
“What’s going on? We heard screaming,” Telémahkos asked nervously.
From within they heard Bleys call out, “It’s coming!”
“You’d better get in there or you cousin is going to die,” Markos replied to Telie.
”Tymon! Go shoot it,” Telémahkos commanded his manservant, as he took a step back himself.
Tymon’s lower lip pouted out, and he looked back and forth nervously, but he stepped into the trade chamber and dropped his torch, to steady his loaded crossbow. The thing looked up from Laarus’ now bleeding form near the center of the room. The thwang of the crossbow was devoured by the roar of the bestial lizard as the bolt buried itself into its shoulder. The creature began to convulse, its tendrils flicking back and forth even more wildly.
“Son of a bitch!” Telémahkos swore as he crept hurriedly behind the scales in the corner of the trade chamber. “Shoot it again!”
Tymon did not even get a chance to look up from loading his crossbow when the frog-monster leapt into the air again, and landed atop him, tearing at the portly man mercilessly. Tymon’s shrieks died as blood began to pour out in all directions.
“Bes! Bless me one more time with your luck!” Telémahkos prayed as he chucked at a dagger at the thing, striking it hard in the head. It looked at him, but then back at Markos who was closer.
“Aaaah! F*ck!” Markos cried as he ran away from the creature around the perimeter of the room, hoping to reach his own dying cousin.
The creature shuddered as a bolt from Bleys buried itself in its neck, and it bit out in his direction with furious futility. It fell inches from Tymon and exploded, burning the already dying man with his acidic blood.
Markos ran over to the dying Laarus and began to work at binding his wounds. “I need help over here,” he cried, but Telie was busy looking at Timotheus, who fortunately had stabilized on his own. (3) Bleys worked on Tymon, who really was a mess.
“I really need help here!” Markos’ voice had a frantic quality the others had never heard before, but the situation was too stressful to really make note of it. “My cousin is dying!”
“Who do I help?” Telémahkos asked himself aloud, looking back and forth.
“I am getting better at this!” Bleys announced, as Tymon stabilized (4), and this made Telémahkos’ choice easy. He went over and began to help Laarus. Bleys walked over and checked on Victoria, just to be sure, even though he had seen Laarus stabilize her during the battle.
There was a brief and heated discussion regarding the danger of moving the wounded versus the peril of staying out in the open where they were.
“We cannot get them onto the boat without opening their hastily bound wounds,” Markos said. “But perhaps there is a safer place around here we can hole up?”
It was decided that Bleys and Markos would check out the roomfrom which the monster had emerged, while Telie remained behind to watch over the wounded. Bleys loaded two heavy crossbows and laid them at Telie’s feet, “So you’ll be ready…”
The room behind the bookcase looked like a combination of a laboratory and someone’s personal quarters. Along one wall, some kind of purple tentacled plant was sliced to ribbons within a smashed glass enclosure over a large ceramic pot. There was another much smaller one in a similar enclosure knocking futilely against the glass.
“Violet fungi,” Bleys the Aubergine said to his companion. There was also a tall wooden tank of some kind, and a splintered and broken stepladder beside it that probably once led atop it. In the center of this nearly round cavern that was about forty feet across was along table, on its side. Smashed beside that was a huge glass tube that once held some kind of preserving liquid and some kind of embroyonic creature with a developing tentacled face, with out of place lupine features and gray hair growing in patches along its length of about three feet.
“What in the Hells is that?” Markos frowned. Bleys shook his head and looked away, noticing a desk and a cabinet in one corner. Markos saw that there was the corpse of a gnome on the other side of the room. It looked like it had been partially devoured by the reptilian frog-beast, but what was left had a leather satchel fastened around it. Markos ignored it for now and walked past Bleys towards the cabinet.
“There is nothing to be gained by opening this cabinet now,” Bleys said, but Markos just shrugged and opened it anyway. Within were a variety of herbs, molds, mosses and powders, along with two vials of a milky white liquid.
Markos happily grabbed the book and the vials, detecting that they were magical, but the other items were left behind until they could be collected more carefully. Among the items here were several smashed beakers, and a collection of yellow powder and black spores that looked like what was needed to make shannis.
The room further up the corridor from the laboratory held two wooden cages. One of them was smashed open from the inside and scored with acidic burns. The other was filled with bones still covered with tiny bits of chewed flesh. It was clear that slaves had been kept here, and upon their transformation they had turned on each other. Whichever ones had broken out had either been killed or gotten away.
“The two we killed before must have been from here,” Bleys said.
The room smelled like excrement and rot. There were sacks of oats and grain stacked on one corner, but ruined with gore and ichor. There were two smashed chamber pots, their contents spilled out towards a crack in the cave floor, and two open barrels of what must have been fresh water were now fouled.
They went back to the trade chamber where Telémahkos waited, but Bleys was not satisfied that they were safe enough. With Telie help he finished taking Timotheus’ breastplate off the tall warrior and put it on himself. He then slipped on a helmet and took up Victoria’s morningstar.
“I will be back,” he said, walking out the corridor to the northwest, holding up a lantern.
“Telémahkos, you are good at sneaking,” Markos said matter-of-factly, taking up a crossbow. “Why don’t you go follow him and keep an eye out for him. I’ll stay here.”
For once there was no argument, and Telémahkos did just that. He followed the now heavily armored watch-mage through a small cavern that looked like it once served as a kennel. The skeletons of mastiffs were still chained to the wall, the meat ripped off the bone by other canines, which were now ichorous stains on the droppings-covered rocky floor. Beyond that another short corridor led to an area that branched out in three directions. Ahead to the left was a much larger chamber, and Bleys could see there was various things hung on the wall, one of which appeared to be the nameplate from the rear of a ship. To the immediately to the right was narrow passage that led to some cavern from which he could hear the faint echo of rushing water, and beyond that to the right as well, was a dark area of many standing stones creating some kind of natural maze.
Bleys the Aubergine froze and spun around, having heard something, and then called out to Telie. “I see you…” he said.
“Markos sent me to look after you,” Telémahkos replied in a whisper creeping forward. He looked into the large chamber to the left. “Hey! There’s chests in there!”
“We’ll get to them later,” Bleys said, and walked down the corridor towards the cavern he heard the sound of water from. This was a large cavern, of which more than half was a tide pool created by water gushing in at intervals through a gap in the middle of eastern wall. Bleys noted a passage to the west, the top of which was just at the surface of the water.
“It might be possible to swim up that way now, but at high tide it looks like the water reaches all the way up to here,” Bleys said to Telie, pointing out the line where the water reached on the rocky beach. The closer portion of the cavern was set up as a bedroom, except most of the furnishings had been smashed in some great melee. The ichor-stains of former smugliwugs were all over the place. Bleys counted at least nine. There was a torn-up bed, a knocked over footlocker and the bones of a man in shreds of armor, in a pile with a fine rapier. Telémahkos picked up the rapier, while Bleys walked over and checked the knocked over wardrobe. Its doors were ajar and within he saw several long brocaded wool coats of the kind a naval officer might wear. Most were ruined, but he pulled out two that were intact, but left them there.
Telémahkos whipped the rapier back and forth and smiled when he immediately noted the masterwork quality of the weapon. It felt light and perfect in his hand. He walked over to the wardrobe and poked around, as Bleys walked to leave.
“Whoever was building that raft must have a really good hiding place, or got eaten,” the watch-mage commented, as he stopped and turned back to his companion, who had found a locket in amid the pebbles.
“Gods! I do so hope they were eaten,” Telémahkos said, but the tiny portrait painted in the locket distracted him. It was of a handsome young man with black curly hair and a bit of permanent sneer. Telie recognized him. “It is Vanthus Vanderboren… The plot thickens…”
Bleys turned and left, followed a few moments later by Telie carrying everything he had scavenged, including an intact bottle of vermillion ink by the splintered desk.
Bleys went into the larger cavern with the ship names plates, for there were many more hung around the perimeter than he had first seen. There was the Wavereaper, Asmod’s Hope, the Sea Ghost, Dozen’s Cousin, Lavly’s Future, Tiamat’s Wake, and the RMN Sea-Tamer.
Hanging from the ceiling by chains near the center of the closer section of the oblong, almost peanut-shaped, room, was the yellowed skull of some great reptilian beast, like a gargantuan lizardfolk with huge teeth. Against the eastern wall were three chests, one of which had been dragged away from the wall by a few inches and was out of the place against the depression it had made in its original position. Telémahkos fell to examining these as Bleys walked over to pedestal that held a display case. Underneath a rectangle of glass were three leather-bound folios. There was no lock upon the case, but Bleys was wary. He cast detect magic and looked again. He could now see the faint outline of a rune appear on the front of the case. He recognized the glyph as representing the combination of old arcane runes for ‘air’ and ‘cold’, creating ‘frost’. Opening or breaking the case would set it off.
Bleys the Aubergine looked around with his enhanced vision, sweeping over the nameplates and the shark jaws hung on the walls. He looked over the chests as well, but nothing else was magical aside from the rapier now slid into Telémahkos’ belt. Telie slipped a small leather case of tools from his sash, and got to work on the locks on the chests. He was fairly certain he could open them by spend a long and careful time on each. (5) Within was more treasure than Telie had ever seen except in the stolen glimpses at the contents of his father’s favorite vault. One chest was filled with Thrician coin, another with Herman Land and Black Island coin[/url], and the last was filled with the often-worthless Kingdom of the Red God of the West coinage. There were also assorted jewels, including a handful of pearls, an emerald brooch and some garnets.
Bleys peeked into a room off the side of this larger chamber that was reached by going beneath the large nameplate for the Sea Ghost. Beyond was a weapon storage room with all kinds of spears, crossbows, bolts, pole-arms and swords.
“It is Bleys and Telémahkos. Do not shoot us,” Bleys said to Markos in his even baritone as they came back to the great trade chamber.
Bleys the Aubergine fell to tending to the wounded as Markos and Telémahkos commenced to looting, dragging the chests back to The Sea Wyvern and hefting them onboard.
When they were done with that, the two who were commonly foes were too filled with good cheer brought on by the promise of booty to fight. They headed into the laboratory despite Bleys’ warning about possibly letting the violet fungi loose, or what might be in the tall wooden vat.
In there they carefully collected the herbs and components in the cabinet, and Marko found a red leather covered traveling spellbook on the corpse of the gnome, along with a satchel full of components. Telémahkos found that the velvet-covered jewelry box held a necklace of pearls that was partially taken apart. There were nine pearls to add to the five found in one of the chests.
When they returned, Markos took over looking after the wounded, while Bleys and Telémahkos went to reexamine the glass case holding the three folios. As soon they were gone, Markos cast read magic and starting reading through the gnome’s spellbook. (6)
One carefully fired heavy crossbow bolt later, and Bleys had the glass case broken from afar. There was a sudden blast of white frost all around the pedestal. Bleys approached and saw that the folios were the kind that held folded maps, and another detect magic spell revealed auras that had been obscured by the glyph of warding on the case. These auras emerged from within the covers, so Bleys felt it was safe enough to pick them up, and slip them into a sack.
As he and Telémahkos got back, Markos looked up and said, “Alien-wolf embryonic specimen.”
“What?” Telie asked. “What was that first word?”
“Alien… It means ‘from somewhere else’,” Markos replied condescendingly. Telémahkos shrugged.
“There might be some thing in this book that might help us figure out what happened here,” Markos said, more to Bleys than Telie. “Oh, and there are a bunch of potentially useful spells here…” He spouted off the names of a bunch of spells, but Bleys did not seem to be paying much attention, having gone back to tending the wounded, which was what he thought Markos should have been doing.
“There is an eighty to ninety percent chance these are healing potions,” Markos said, holding out the vials of milky liquid.
“Then why not give one of them to your cousin?” Telémahkos asked.
“Okay,” Markos shrugged. “Any objections?”
“Yes,” Bleys said without looking up from his work. “Even a ten percent chance that they are not is too big a risk for this situation.”
“Well, can you identify them?” Telémahkos asked.
“Yes, but I need a valuable pearl…” Bleys began.
“We just found a bunch of those!” Telie said, happily.
“And some fragrant incense…” Bleys continued. No one had incense.
Hours passed. Markos continued to flip through the spellbook, while Telémahkos paced the cavern listening for any approach, and Bleys continued checking on the wound, shooing flies that would land on their bloody bandages, as he made them fresh again. Late afternoon was approaching when Timotheus and Victoria finally stirred.
Victoria sat up in a slow and pained way, and immediately growled in pain as she tried to bend her right knee too quickly. It would be some time before she could walk on it again with any comfort. (7) She put her back to a wall and rested there panting after even that much exertion, her wounds threatening to reopen if she pushed herself at all. (8)
There was more discussion of moving the wounded, but Laarus and Tymon looked so close to death, Bleys did not want to risk it at all. A few more hours passed, and Markos and Telémahkos went to the Sea Wyvern to retrieve a cask of ale in order to have some. Victoria was taking slow painful steps to stretch out the spasming muscles of her right leg. And Timotheus, sat bored against one wall, longbow across his knees.
Suddenly, Bleys thought he heard footsteps coming from the passage that led to the kennel. He put a finger to his lips, looking at Tim and then Victoria, and began to creep in that direction as quietly as he could, despite still wearing Timotheus breastplate. Timotheus stood and put an arrow to the bow, and stepped forward as well, craning his neck to get a better look down the corridor, but Bleys was in the way.
“Hello…” A woman stepped out of the shadows of the kennel, placing a dim lantern on the floor as her right hand reached for the basket-hilted dagger in a sheath at her breast. In her other hand was a fine rapier. She stood about five foot nine inches tall and had long raven hair and a tanned olive complexion and green eyes. She was a bold beauty with an athletic body, in tall soft leather boots and studded leather armor of exquisite quality adorned with pearls and a fire opal at the collar.
Bleys the Aubergine flinched in surprise, and his hand went for his sabre. “You must be the ones who landed the other day and then took off. Did your ship get destroyed as well? Is that why ya took the Wyvern?”
”Who are you?” Bleys asked, not answering the question.
“I might be askin’ you and yours the same thing now, might’nt I?” She replied with a playful smirk. “Seeing as I am here by rights awarded to me by the commander of Kraken’s Cove, Kilgante… And I don’t think the same could be said o’ you…”
“Kilgante?” Bleys asked.
“Kilgante Valeros… He runs… ran this place… Now he’s chum for those frog bastards…” She replied. “But you have still not said who you are… Are those watch-mage’s robes?”
“I am Bleys the Aubergine…”
“Heh… Well, I’m Harliss Javell,” the female smuggler replied with a smirk.
(7) Victoria suffered this critical effect: Apply Crit Multiplier to Total Damage (and armor DP damage) – Reflex Save (DC 10 + ½ damage) or Knee Split, -20 to Speed, -2 to AC, Save Vs. Knockdown at –4.
I never took the time to describe his voice as baritone, but you are correct that is exactly what it is.
Thanks for taking the time to write this up, I feel that you perfectly capture my character in the re-telling. I hope you are having as much fun running for him as I am playing him.
Session #7 – “Negotiations & Love Songs” (part 3 of 3)
Markos and Telémahkos returned with the cask of ale, and Tim signaled to them to be quiet. Telie made to creep along the perimeter of the main chamber, as to not be seen, while Markos made a show of rolling the cask to the middle of the cavern and loudly asking if anyone wanted any.
“And who are you?” Markos asked, coming closer to the chamber entrance where Bleys spoke with Harliss, but still hanging back. “Would you like some ale? Why are you sulking back in the shadows? There is no need to hide… Unless you are scared we might find out something about you…”
“I already don’t like your friend,” Harliss said, never taking her eyes off of Bleys.
“That makes two of us,” Telémahkos called from the shadows.
“How many of you are there?” Harliss asked.
“We are seven,” Bleys replied. “What happened here?”
“All froggy hell broke loose because of a damn weasel I should have known better to ever trust,” Harliss spat. “What are you all doing here?”
“We are looking the brother of a friend of ours,” Telémahkos said, stepping forward, and giving up an pretense of hiding. “Vanthus Vanderboren…”
“Vanderboren! Ha! It’s because of that pretending bastard that all this happened,” she said with an angry laugh. “But that’s okay… His comeuppance is on its way…”
“What do you mean by that?” Telémahkos asked nervously.
“Before escape became impossible I sent my first mate to retrieve some unlikely allies to go to the Vanderboren manor near Quillton that Vanthus has been using as a base, and kill that little bastard and his sister, and anyone else unlucky enough to be there…”
“What!” Telémahkos cried.
“Unlikely allies?” Bleys asked still placid. “In fact, it may just be easier if you tell us your whole story…” The watch-mage’s monotone had the slightest flecks of skepticism coming off of it.
“Vanthus Vanderboren contacted me through means of his girlfriend, Brissa Santos. That little bitch has been trolling ports for a merchant’s son for years, and slitting the throats of others on the side, and I figured he was just another of her pigeon’s, but then seemed to be genuinely interested in acquiring… special goods from exotic locations… Let’s say… And then all of a sudden, the two of them are up on the deck of The Eastward Brother spilling whale oil everywhere and setting fires. By the time I got there, they had fought their way onto my ship, The Fast Facet, and made straight for a chest where I kept an item I was transporting… a black pearl bigger than your fist…”
She paused and took another half a step forward, craning her head a bit to get a look in the room.
“Come in… Have some ale,” Markos said, tapping the cask. Bleys and Telémahkos stepped back to give the woman some room. Harliss took another couple of steps into the trade chamber, and then noticed Victoria moving to see her. Every step the militant of Anhur took was a pained one.
“Militant of Anhur! What is your name?” Harliss asked.
“I am Victoria Ostrander,” Victoria replied with suspicion.
“Do I have your word that my open parley will not be used to lull me into an attack?” Harliss asked, curbing her churlish tone. “That is, as long as I make no attack on you, you shall keep your companions from doing so as well?”
“Aye… We observe the laws of parley,” Victoria replied. “Though, as you can see from my state, if my friends were to choose to attack you my defense of you would be short-lived…”
“Your word alone should be sufficient to shield me,” Harliss replied. “Even if you do look about three steps away from a zombie…”
“More like four steps,” Timotheus said with a friendly smile. Tim’s eyes shone as he took in her lithe athletic form.
“So, the story… I caught him and his bitch on the deck of the Fast Facet and when I thought it would come to swordplay, he showed his yellow back and ran. I caught him on the arm with me blade and he dropped the pearl, and some of his blood landed on it. The next thing I knew, some kind of mist was rising out of cracks in it. Now, I didn’t know exactly what it is this thing did, but I knew that didn’t look good, so I kicked it overboard. Suddenly there was a flash, and everybody started changing… Exploding into horrible bullywug forms… Well, not everybody, about half the people, and the other half… Those that didn’t change? They started getting eaten by those that did! Brissa changed, too… But by that time, The Fast Facet was burning faster than she ever sailed, and Vanderboren had leapt right overboard, and swam away like a porpoise! He must have had a boat waiting for him somewhere, because no one can swim anywhere safe from here unless they’re a lizardfolk, I guess… Anyway, I made my way to the beach, where pure hell had broken loose. The battle was terrible, and I could tell right away we were losing…”
“You must be deft of blade or deft of stealth to survive so long…” Bleys interrupted in a natural pause in the tale.
“A little of both, man,” Harliss winked.
“That’s who I’m supposed to kill,” Telémahkos whispered to his cousin, pulling him away, as Harliss continued.
“I want no part in killing anyone without knowing why,” Timotheus hissed back.
“No kidding… I don’t want to either, but the easiest way out of this is to simply not give her a ride out of here,” Telie replied.
“It’s not polite to talk while someone is telling their story, there lads!” Harlis said with more humor than anger in her voice.
”Oh… sorry, we were just discussing the pearl… You could buy a city with a pearl that size,” Timotheus replied, stepping towards here with easy familiarity.
“Not anymore you can’t… It was cracking up when I kicked it overboard,” Harliss said. “But as I was explaining, the two or three days before this happened, some bullywugs arrived looking for the pearl… I don’t know how they knew it was here… For that matter I don’t know how Vanthus knew it was here, or knew anything about it… He was here under completely different pretenses… He said he was here representing the Vanderboren Mercantile Nexus and that he and his sister, Lavinia, a not-quite high-born bitch, I am sure…”
“You will not speak of the Lady like that,” Telémahkos warned.
“Oh yes, be careful…Telémahkos is quite the moralist,” Markos smiled.
“I agree with Telémahkos,” Victoria said. “Best to stick with your tale and save the offensive digressions…”
“Well, I was saying…” Harliss was annoyed. “These bullywugs wanted the pearl… They said it was sacred to them, had a shaman with them and everything… So when I ran into that ugly son of a pig that is my first mate on the beach, I sent him up the walkway to get out of here and get Vanthus. I told him to tell them he had it…”
Markos started laughing. The others glared at him and he covered his mouth.
“Drevoraz will meet up with them and then make his way to a place where we have a sloop hidden and then sail to the last place we knew Vanthus was working from… The Vanderboren Manse in Quillton,” Harliss continued. “And there those frogs are gonna kill that weasel and his sister and anyone else who is there…”
“Oh, you’re evil! That’s not nice,” Timotheus said, shaking his head.
Markos burst out laughing again, and then tried to stop himself when his companions glared at him. “What? I mean… I know it’s terrible… But you have to admit, it is clever…”
“You sicken me,” Telémahkos said coldly, and then turned to Harliss. “His sister has nothing to do with this… She is innocent.”
“As are any servants or others there who will get killed,” Bleys said.
“Well… that is unfortunate, then…” Harliss said with only faint sympathy. “But I guess that kind of thing can happen when you have a lying and thieving bastard for a brother who is too big for his britches…”
“Wow, a sacred magic frog pearl…” Timotheus said. “Now that is adventure material!”
“You would make a poor bard,” Victoria said, allowing herself a smile.
Tim smirked.
“I would like to retrieve it,” Markos said.
Telémahkos rolled his eyes.
“Also, I just remembered…” Markos walked over to Harliss, pointing over to the crate in the corner of the chamber by the scales. “There were some books or something there… Drying out, do you know what those were?”
“I do not,” Harliss replied. Markos’ eyes narrowed.
“And you were hiding all this time?” Bleys asked. “Hiding and coming out to build the raft…?”
“Aye, but that creature found me, so I could only do a bit at a time… It was one of the bestial lizards from the Hellish Isles, but it became a savage frog, too…” Harliss answered. “But I assume you killed it…?”
“Yes,” Timotheus said. Every time he looked at her he smiled again and raised his eyebrows as if asking a question, even if he was answering one.
“Well, now that you are here, I do not need the raft anymore,” Harliss said with a smile. “You can give me a ride on the way to save the Vanderborens.”
“But you said your first mate left two days ago…” Tim said.
“Yes, but by the time he gathers up the ‘wugs and finds the ship and then sails, and waits for nightfall, there is a chance you can catch up to him, or at least arrive there before everyone is killed,” Harliss said. “That is, if we leave right away… I will help navigate you there, in return you will drop me off somewhere relatively safe along the way, once we are close enough for you to arrive on your own…”
“But what about your first mate?” Markos asked. “If you accompany us, you can tell him to call it off… If we are on time…”
“What so you can turn your anger on me if we get there too late? No, thank you… I am giving you your chance to get there and save the woman, Drevoraz is on his own… He knows the dangers of this job…” She said.
“Would he not drop off these ‘wugs, if they even exist,” Bleys began to ask with apparent skepticism. “Leaving them to commit the murders?”
“Not if he know what is good for him,” Harliss said. “He knows that when he is given a job he has to stick around and make sure it gets done…”
“We have to go,” Telémahkos said.
“Even if we were to accept this woman’s word at face value, Laarus and Tymon cannot be moved,” Bleys said. “We must wait at least until the morning…”
“By the morning it may be too late!” Telémahkos replied.
Markos nodded. “If there were any other way, I would agree with Bleys, but since innocents are at risk, we must take our own risks.”
As the others discussed what to do, Timotheus Smith continued chatting with Harliss Javell, while sipping some of the red ale. “So how does one get involved in the smuggling business, anyway?”
“By knowing how to keep your mouth shut,” Harliss replied, curtly.
“Well, good thing for us you can smile with your mouth closed, or else we’d all be deprived,” Tim winked.
Harliss began to smile beside herself, but quickly turned it into a snarl that had an edge of playfulness. “Well, usually when I open my mouth for a man it is to give an order or bite something off…”
“Rowr,” Tim tried to waggle his eyebrows.
“There is no time to waste with this,” Harliss pushed Timotheus away hard, as he had stepped in real close, but still with a hint of the playful. “Are your companions deciding?”
“I don’t think we should bring her,” Telémahkos was saying in a low voice to Bleys, Markos and Victoria. “She’s a murderer and a pirate, and can’t Markos get us there?”
“I could, but if she knows the way it will be best to have her plot the course,” Markos replied. “If time is of the essence and lives are at stake, such differences should be put aside…”
“And if your cousin were to die because we moved him?” Bleys asked Markos. “Could that be put aside as well? Are we to risk the lives of two of our companions on the word of a pirate who is obviously using what she knows to manipulate us?”
“What other choice do we have?” Markos asked.
“We wait,” Bleys replied.
“No. If time is of the essence, I fear the risk should be taken,” Victoria said. “Laarus would not want innocents risked on his account.”
“We can use one of the rugs to carry them to the boat and lift them in,” Telémahkos said. “If four of us carry it, each by a corner, and are very careful, there should be little to no chance of disturbing their wounds.”
Bleys the Aubergine was outvoted, again.
“Harliss… What were you doing with this pearl?” Bleys the Aubergine asked her.
“Delivering it,” Harliss said. “It has been retrieved in the Hellish Isles somewhere, and delivered to me. I was to deliver it to someone else…”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore now, does it?”
“We will let you come with us if you let us see those books where were drying on the crate,” Markos said, trying to sound tough in his bluff.
“I do not know what you are talking about,” Harliss replied calmly.
“If I could make a guess as to what those books were,” Bleys said. “I would say they were ledgers with a record of every ship and perhaps person of import that has come through here… And if so, they are very valuable indeed, and thus her reticence to part with them…”
“All the more reason for us to see them…” Markos said.
“No. If such ledgers were in my possession they will not only remain in my possession, but you will give me a ride and drop me off as we discussed,” Harliss said with impatience.
“And why would we do that?” Markos asked. “What if we just take them from you?”
“Firstly, I have your militant’s word that you will not do me harm, secondly, looking over all of you now, I think I could take you all as you are, so you should reconsidered threatening violence,” Harliss smiled, and let her hand rest casually on the hilt of her sheathed blade. “And lastly, I have not said a word about you all looting this place and taking whatever you want. And that includes the sloop itself, which if I remember correctly was stolen from the Vanderboren Mercantile Nexus. I have what I have and you have what you have, and you should be happy to have it… Is that reason enough?”
“Are we really going to let this woman dictate our actions?” Bleys was confounded.
“We have no choice,” Telémahkos replied with sagging shoulders.
Tymon Lowe was moved onto The Sea Wyvern first with no problems, but as they hoisted Laarus up, Telémahkos noticed fresh blood staining the rug. “Pull him up! Pull him up! He’s bleeding out!”
The priest of Ra was quickly laid on the deck and Bleys got to working on him with Telie’s help. “I’m sorry… Next time I will listen to you…” Telémahkos said with true concern in his voice.
“We shall see…” Bleys replied. Laarus of Ra had his wounds re-bound and he was carefully carried down into the hold and laid beside Tymon.
Harliss Javell produced a huge stuffed pack that she threw onto the boat, and then asked Timotheus’ help bringing two barrels of fresh water on board. She took up a spot at the stern.
“Mistress Ostrander!” She called, as Victoria moved to the front of the boat, soon after the shoved off. “Our agreement still holds…?”
“I would be surprised if my companions attacked you while you slept, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” the Militant of Anhur replied.
“Who plans to sleep?” Harliss winked.
End of Session #7
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“Are we really going to let this woman dictate our actions?” Bleys was confounded.
A point of clarification here: This exchange led to Bleys finally 'losing his cool' (as tempered as it may seem), being frustrated with the group he lashed out. His remark is not misogynistic. To the contrary, it was the only respectful term he could think of at the time. He was loathe to use myriad other words which came to mind first......and adding fuel to the fire.
I did enjoy this session though, but still believe there were some gaping holes in 'ole Harliss' story.
A point of clarification here: This exchange led to Bleys finally 'losing his cool' (as tempered as it may seem), being frustrated with the group he lashed out. His remark is not misogynistic. To the contrary, it was the only respectful term he could think of at the time. He was loathe to use myriad other words which came to mind first......and adding fuel to the fire.
I did enjoy this session though, but still believe there were some gaping holes in 'ole Harliss' story.
They will be revealed in Bleys' journal.....
Actually, I did not think of it as Bleys disparaging her as a woman, but exactly as you described, unsure what word to use, he fell back on the most basic description of her that came to him that was not an actual curse or insult.
As for the "holes", at least some of them are covered in Bleys' delayed interrogation of her at the beginning of the next session/installment.
A cascade of yellow powder blew out into the wind as Telémahkos emptied out each of the jars of shannis they had found in Kraken’s Cove.
The Sea Wyvern moved listlessly across the corner of Devil’s Grasp heading towards the southern shore of Black Thread Island in the dead of night. There was but a light wind, and Markos worked hard to get as much of it into the sails as possible, for it was not exactly most favorable to their course. Occasionally, he called over Telémahkos or Harliss to help.
Down in the hold, Laarus awakened.
“Is everyone okay?” the priest of Ra asked.
“We’re all fine. Rise and shine!” Tim greeted him happily.
“I’m still aching,” Tymon croaked from a nearby hammock.
“We are alive, that means we are well enough,” Bleys said in his flat tone as he walked by, ducking to avoid the low rafters, to go up to the deck. The watch-mage left Timotheus explaining to the priest what had happened. Bleys looked around and saw Markos jubilant in his working the sails, as Telémahkos held the wheel. Harliss Javell was leaning over the back of the sloop and turned as she heard him, shooting him her usual smirk.
Bleys thought back on the conversation they’d had on the beach the day before, as they all waited for Markos to return from swimming down to the bottom of the cove in search of the shards of the black pearl. Aided by a spell (2), he had held his breath for so long, it seemed he might never come back, but when he did it was with news that he had found at least some of them and they were no longer magical. He did not go back for them.
“Do you know of men called MacHaven, or Conduel?” Bleys the Aubergine had asked her, making the connection between the shannis found here and names they had gotten from Sir Quintus Gosprey. (3)
Connduel she knew. He often came to Kraken’s Cove to buy goods and make arrangements for other trades, but had not been seen in a few weeks. MacHaven was Connduel’s toadie, but she only knew him by name.
“And who was this Kilgante you mentioned? Some kind of chief?” Bleys asked.
”Valeros Kilgante… He was the Cooper’s man, at least for now… From what I understand he had other offers…” Harliss replied.
“Other offers? What do you mean?” Bleys asked.
Harliss shrugged. “The man was good with his sword from what I heard, though I never saw him use it,.The Steel Whipyour friend carries has its own reputation…” Harliss said. She gestured to the magical rapier Telémahkos now wore. “But like most men, he could be bought…”
“What more can you tell me about the rapier?”
Harliss had shrugged again. “Like I said, I never saw him use it.” He asked her what she knew about a plot against House Wetherwax coming out of Kraken’s Cove.
“A plot against House Wetherwax? Why would they do that when House Wetherwax allows that place to exist as long as it can profit from it?” Harliss laughed.
Bleys frowned. “Tell me, how did you manage to trap that bestial lizard turned killer frog in that room behind the bookcase?”
“Heh. It seemed that Leemo had pushed that case into place to save himself from the transformed sailors, but must have smashed open his fungi geranium in the process, because that was what killed him,” She explained. “I just happened to move it out of the way and was about to search the room for things I’d need for my raft trip, when I heard the bestial reptile turned frog approaching. I was able to hide behind the bookcase and push it back into place when it entered, hoping it would kill off the fungi… Which I take it, it did…”
“Do you have any idea what the potions Leemo had on him do?” Bleys asked.
Harliss shrugged yet again. “He was the official inspector of wild life and herbs, that included poisons and drugs. Whatever the potion does, it is probably some kind of anti-toxin or restorative salve…”
In the present, Bleys the Aubergine looked away and made his way to the prow still thinking on the little information he had gleaned from the smuggler. She could not even tell him what the color or the name of the ship her first mate would using to reach Quillton with the bullywugs. “We have a few possibilities hidden here and there, and no one person knows where they all are…” She had replied.
Teflem, the 27th of Sek – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
Within a few days boredom had set in. The southern shallow bay of Black Thread Island passed them on the starboard side, looming over the green water with tall, forested hills, and the sloop turned north by northeast around the corner of the island and finally catching a good wind. But Markos did not seem to mind the time aboard ship. He had not spoken a single snarky word or started an argument, except for when he had to remind Timotheus for not the first time that there was not room on the boat for sparring. It was clear that whether it be up in the mast, at the helm, or simply at the prow breathing in the briny air, Markos’ soul was set at ease when he was at sea.
It was not so easy for the others, and down in the hold Bleys the Aubergine drew the leather-bound folios from his pack and started to examine them again.
Laarus and Telémahkos were having a long and sometimes heated discussion near the front of the The Sea Wyvern, while Victoria and Markos discussed what their approach might be when they arrived at the Vanderboren manse.
“There’ll be a fight,” Timotheus said, walking past them. “I am eager to get at it…” He continued to the stern of the sloop, sitting beside Harliss as he did for some time every day becoming increasingly familiar and flirty. She played along in her own hard-edged way, but was clear in her attitude that under the present circumstances Tim had no chance.
“Fine,” Laarus of Ra said to Telémahkos. “I will fetch Bleys and we shall discuss this deal with the pirate and murderess.” The priest of Ra was unhappy about the agreement to let her go once they were within easy reach of the Vanderborn manse. He wanted to bring her to justice, as he had not made the same agreement as the others. He felt it should be discussed and made his way towards the entrance to the hold.
Spoiler:
The sounds of merriment and laughter were swelling over lively music that danced over the golden glow of yellow paper lanterns in the darkness of evening. He stood somewhere dark, and the light reached him from afar… The sounds just echoes on the water… He heard the creaking of timbers and looked up to see a ship docked nearby. He read the first six letters on its name plate, T-h-e G-o-l…, but his attention was drawn to a diminutive figure appearing on the deck. “It worked for that weasel, might as well work now…” The child-like voice said as he saw it kick something. A cask came bouncing down the gangplank and there was an explosion that sent liquid fire in all directions, lighting up the night. Telémahkos’ flaming figure comes stumbling in his direction. He grasped at his melting face as his tortured voice moaned, “I told you we should not have followed your visions… We should have gone straight to the manor…” There is time to deal with the treason later…”
There was a second explosion behind him and went white…
Suddenly, the priest doubled over and staggered to the edge of the boat, spitting up a stream of clear bile into the waters of the Wizard’s Sea.
“Are you okay?” Victoria of Anhur hurried over to help him to his feet and check on him, while Timotheus Smith took it upon himself to get Bleys. He went down into the dark hold and when his eyes adjusted he was taken aback. There was Bleys, sitting atop the cask of whale oil, but he was surrounded in some kind of sepia-colored field of energy that shimmered and scintillated occasionally. The watch-mage was motionless, holding open one of the unfolded maps from the folios found in Kraken’s Cove (4). The other two folios were on his lap, also trapped in the field.
Timotheus walked over and waved his hand in front of Bleys Winter’s face. There was no reaction. The warrior tried to touch the watch-mage, but the sepia-light hummed and shimmered and resisted him.
“Uh. . . Everyone? You better come down here and look at this…” He called up to the other members of the Charter of Schiereiland.
“I though the Academy of Wizardry had certain minimum requirements for their student’s intelligence,” Markos said smugly.
“What could have happened?” Victoria asked.
“He did it to himself by opening the folio. We knew it was warded somehow,” Markos’s amusement quickly turned to annoyance. “He’s a damn fool.”
“Is there anything you can do to help him? Can he breathe in there?” Victoria asked, concerned.
“If it is the spell I think it is, he should be okay, but there will be nothing I can do about it,” Markos replied.
“How long will it last?” Laarus asked.
“Days… Perhaps even many days,” Markos said. “Did I mention he was a fool?”
“Perhaps there is some spell in Bleys’ book that you can use to free him…” Victoria suggested.
“As much as I would like to use this as an excuse to look through Bley’s book, there would be no hope of finding the spell I would need to dispel this effect, and even if I did, I would be unable to cast it,” Markos explained with a weary tone. He went back up on deck where Tymon had been left to watch over Harliss as she took the wheel.
Victoria went up as well, and Timotheus followed, sighing, as Telémahkos was craning his neck seeing if he could get a view of the open map within the aura of sepia light. The effect made the map impossible to read.
“There is no need to discuss the Harliss issue at this point,” Laarus said to Telie.
“Well, with Bleys out of commission I am even less confident of our ability of defeating Harliss, and we know she isn’t going to go quietly if we try to bring her to the authorities,” Telémahkos replied.
“It is not for that reason that I have changed my mind,” Laarus said. “I have reason to believe that the consequences of not going directly and seeking the authorities in Quillton would be not worth the risk.”
“And what is that?” Telie asked, incredulously.
“Your death…”
“What?” Telémahkos’ mouth was suddenly dry.
“I… I had a vision. You were in it and immolated,” Laarus tried to explain. “There was ship docked and someone exploded a cask of Red God Fire and you were caught in the blast. It was Quillton. It was very similar to the previous visions I had with the same cask, with the ‘Q’ branded into it.”
“You have visions?” Telémahkos asked.
“Yes, and they have always come true…”
Ralem, the 1st of Ter – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.) – Summer Solstice
As shadows crept across the landscape of Black Thread Island to their left, the signers of the Charter of Schiereiland waiting atop the deck of the Sea Wyvern eagerly noted the lights of the approaching town of Quillton. Their stomachs growled as they had gone part of the previous day and this entire one with no food, having run out of rations.
“The manse has its own dock and is about six miles northwest of town,” Harliss explained as they drifted by the town. The sounds and lights of some kind of festival reached them (5) as the sloop slipped quietly through the dark water, beyond the town’s large port and looming harbor fortress. Earlier they had seen some fishing boats in the distance, and after a brief argument regarding approaching them, they decided against trying to buy some fish from them.
“I just hope we don’t starve to death when we are defeated and have to flee into the woods,” Telémahkos had said.
They were only two miles past Quillton when Harliss asked Markos to bring the sloop closer to the shore. “Ya shouldn’t be missing it from here, I’d gather…” she explained. “And thus, this is where I get off…”
“Are you sure you would not rather come with us and call off your first mate?” Markos asked.
“Naw, you can do with him as you need to,” Harliss replied. “No way those wugs are going to back down, and Drevoraz doesn’t mean enough to me to risk crossing them…”
Harliss Javell grabbed up her pack and heaved it with all her might towards the beach. It splashed into the shallow water.
“What? No kiss good-bye?” Timotheus smiled.
“You’ll have to buy that kiss later,” Harliss winked. “Good luck!” She dove in the water, still in her studded leather and disappeared for a few moments, before appearing about twenty feet away and swimming strongly to the shore. Soon she disappeared into the gloom, taking long strong strides through the chest-high water.
“She may be a pirate and a killer, but that’s some woman,” Timotheus said wistfully. Laarus of Ra glared at him with disapproval. Timotheus gave him a wink.
The sloop continued along the coast and soon enough they noticed a large manor house atop a manicured green hill. Markos spotted the dock as everyone else looked out for any other nearby ships, but there were none.
“Well… At least it is not ablaze…” Victoria said optimistically, but there was nothing obviously wrong at all. They could see light in one window high up on a side facing them.
“Let’s go get a closer look,” Timotheus said.
“We need to bring Bleys!” Victoria said. “What if someone comes back to the ship while we are otherwise occupied and steals it with him in it?”
“We can’t carry him around with us,” Timotheus said.
“We’ll cover him in a blanket and stash him in those bushes on the path up the house,” Telémahkos suggested. The others agreed, and they did just that.
The young nobles made their way up the winding path as quietly as they could, walking along the sides in the shadow of the tall firs that lined it. When they came in view of the fifteen-foot tall stone wall that surrounded the building, Telémahkos was sent ahead to sneak around and see if he could get an idea of what was going on.
“We should have announced ourselves,” Larrus Raymer of Ra said to the others. “It is not right that we should send someone to sneak on to the property…”
“Laarus, there was no light at the gate house and no one atop the tower… Something is wrong,” Timotheus replied.
“I do not like sneaking either,” Victoria said. “But sometimes sound tactics require effective reconnaissance.”
Telémahkos snuck hurriedly across the grass, hugging the wall just east of the gate and craned his neck to see if there was anyone up there. There was none he could see. He crept along the wall and looked around the corner into the darkness, and then tied his climbing spikes to his boots, and strained as he pulled himself up to the top of the wall. He leapt over and ducked down, and then made his way down the length of the wall back towards the gatehouse towers atop the narrow catwalk. He looked out at the manor house. It was three stories tall, and all the windows on the front side were dark. A gravel path wound its way from the gate across the manicured lawn to the door of the house. There was a fountain and a garden at the far end of the property.
Telie leapt down the other side and darted to the corner of the house. He crept along the wall and past a side door where he froze when dogs began to bark violently right on the other side of it. Telémahkos waited a long moment, but while the dogs did not stop, nobody came. He hurried past the side of the house and found another set of doors and a large tree growing penned in the far corner between the wall and the house. There was light in an upper window on both the side and back of the house. He went back, climbing the wall again and making his way to his companions to explain what he had seen.
“We should announce ourselves,” Laarus of Ra said again. “If there is trouble afoot let whomever is there come out and we shall deal with them.”
“Are you mad?” Markos’ face was contorted with disdain and disbelief.
“I don’t know about you, but I am not eager to have every bullywugs and pirate in that house come out and attack us all at once,” Telémahkos said. “There is no shame in using stealth against greater numbers…”
Soon, Telémahkos was back atop the wall, dropping a rope to make it easier for the others to make their way up, and once they were all crouched up there, he removed the rope as the others hung down and leapt into the grass. Telie came down last.
There was a quick debate about where to go next, and as heated whispered voices floated across the lawn, they were all silenced by the front door opening. The light beyond door came streaming out, obscuring the details of the crouched silhouetted figure standing there. Whoever or whatever it was, stuck a head out and looked around, but not noticing anything, closed the door again.
The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland hurried along the shadow of the outer wall and then darted to the house gathering at its corner. Victoria winced with each hurried limp at the back of the group. The dogs began to bark again. The party spread out along the front of the house and as Telémahkos crept towards the door it was yanked open again, and the froggy head of a bullywug stuck out and then took a step through the threshold. It had an awkward springing step, and green and brown mottled hide, and a wide flat head and large moist eyes. The bullywugs lacked the jagged teeth, the caustic tendrilled variety they had fought in the cove. It held a spear in its hands. As it turned to look in their direction, Telémahkos rushed forward and thrust his rapier into its side, catching it unawares.
“Charge!” cried Timotheus as the wug croaked the alarm and Telémahkos dodged the thing’s spear thrust. The broad-shouldered red-haired warrior slammed his flail against the thing’s ribs, and it croaked in pain again. It ducked back into the manor as another came through the other half of the double doors, leaping high into the air to thrust its spear down on Tymon who was running to his master’s aid. The portly young man leapt back crying out in fear. “Master Telémahkos!”
Laarus called for Ra to grant him protection from chaos, as Markos moved up carefully crossbow in hand. Victoria, who had been furthest away from the door, hobbled in the direction of the melee, still suffering from the knee injury she took in Kraken’s Cove (6).
Telémahkos leapt to his left and fell into a roll, trying to startle the bullywugs into letting him past unmolested and get into a better position to flank the opponent, but the wug was too quick. (7) Telie groaned as the spear punched into his chain shirt. He stumbled away, skulking in the shadow of the eaves away from the fight, clutching his side.
Distracted by the developments, Timotheus barely had time to flick his flail to knock away the spear thrust to of a third bullywugs emerging from the house. He suffered a nasty scratch on the bridge of his nose, as it was. “Everyone move up!” Timotheus said in an even and commanding voice. “Encircle and kill!”
The veteran’s responding blow caught the wug full on in the face with such explosive force that the other bullywugs croaked in fear, and barely got out of the way when Timotheus risked a backhand swing at it.
A bolt from Markos’ crossbow clattered across the melee as Tymon, long sword in hand, moved to help Timotheus flank the remaining wug. The frog-man croaked in agony as the hireling’s sword sliced it deep in the side, sending it to the ground. It hopped back to its feet with pained croaks, but overextended in its thrust and fell on its face once again. (8)
Seeing his opportunity, Telémahkos leapt out of the shadows, and stabbed the prone bullywug through the neck. Green blood pooled around it. He felt the warmth of Laarus’ curing spell, as the priest stepped in behind him to apply the divine healing.
“I’m taking the runner! Follow me in!” Timotheus said, hurrying into the manor with his shield raised and his heavy flail at the ready. Small lamps hung in sconces on the walls dimly lighted the foyer. The black and gray-checkered marble floor bore a plush maroon carpet that was swollen with mucky water. The carpet led up three shallow steps that sub-divided the room, and lead to the slightly higher rear portion. There were also two flanking wooden staircases that led up to a balcony on the second floor. Timotheus charged at the awkwardly fleeing bullywug, but it spun around and hopped away at the last moment.
“Timotheus! Don’t get too far ahead,” Telémahkos called, as he and Tymon followed right behind Markos. The blonde noble stepped to one side, hoping to be out of view of any wugs in the perpendicular hallway leading out of the room on either side, or the recessed doors at the back of the chamber.
The fleeing bullywug did not get far. Tim’s heavy steps squished in the soaked rug as he used the force of his run to smash its skull.
“I don’t see anymore for now,” he said, turning, but still vigilant.
…to be continued…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Notes:
(5) While the celebration of the Summer Solstice usually occurs during the day, it just so happens that the town of Quillton celebrates its founding on that same date with a festival that often goes late into the night.
(6) Recovering speed lost to a critical hit requires full bed rest or a restorative spell.
(7) In order to tumble through a threatened area at one-half speed as part of normal movement, provoking no attacks of opportunity while doing so, make a Tumble check. Opponents are allowed a base attack check modified by Dexterity against the Tumble check result to be allowed an attack of opportunity as normal. Check separately for each opponent you move past, in the order in which you pass them (tumbler’s choice of order in case of a tie). Each additional enemy after the first applies a -2 penalty to your Tumble check.
(8) The bullywug fumbled, suffering the following result: Slip. Make Reflex check vs. DC 15 or fall prone.
“I don’t see anymore for now,” Timotheus said, turning, but still vigilant. “Everyone gather around me.”
“BROWK!” There was no time to comply. More bullywugs were hopping down the left hand hallway. Tymon seeing his master hiding in the shadows behind the stairs on the right and joined him.
“I said fight with Tim!” Telémahkos admonished his servant and he dashed across the room into the shadows beneath the stairway on the left. Laarus of Ra rushed forward and his flail struck the first bullywug to get to the end of the hall right in the face, knocking it to the floor. Timotheus, having dropped his flail rushed forward, drawing his sabre and hacked the thing’s head off with one hard chop. It never knew what happened. Thick green blood splattered Timotheus’ breastplate, and he smiled. He turned to face the other three wugs coming out of the hall and instinctively ducked to avoid the hop attack of one leading with its spear. It landed in front of him.
It croaked in alarm as suddenly Victoria was thrusting her long spear at it from nearly ten feet away. The spearhead ripped into rubbery flesh and the frogman squatted in pain, luckily avoiding a bolt from Markos’ crossbow. Tymon hurried past Victoria and slammed the wug on the back of the head with his cudgel. Telémahkos hopped out of the shadows and moved to the other side of it, flanking with Tymon, but the wug recovered, and parried the rapier thrust with its spear. However, it did not guess that Laarus would leave Timotheus to handle the last bullywugs himself, stepping over to slam his heavy flail into its head. It fell to the ground and did not get back up.
“Browk!” The last bullywug thrust its spear again and again at Tim, but the brawny young man, knocked the blows away with his sabre, waiting for an opening. He spun past it slapping away yet another thrust and then turned, putting the weight of his body into a hard blow that shook the wug, and it nearly fell. Tymon took advantage of the opening, striking it with his cudgel as Telémahkos hopped in and thrust with his rapier again. The bullywug slid off the blade to soak the rug with its green blood.
They made their way down the hall and found the rooms beyond abandoned. The trophy room was packed up, with mounted animals covered in sheets, and crates nailed shut and covered with various labels. The other room was a library clear of all but one book, which looking through, Laarus recognized as being written in the mostly forgotten runic language of the Mystic Ancients. Markos, the last to leave the room, slipped the book into his coat. (1)
They came back out into the entrance hall and checked the four doors within the alcove opposite the front doors, and found they all led to an enclosed courtyard with a stream coming through a semi-circular grate low on one wall. There were various flowering bushes carefully planted along the banks, and stone benches on both sides. In the stream itself were the corpses of three bullywugs and a badger.
“What is a badger doing in here?” Timotheus asked.
“Might it be someone’s familiar?” Laarus of Ra suggested, unsure.
Markos shrugged. “If it had been summoned it would have disappeared when killed…”
It was decided they should move upstairs, as if there were anyone else on this floor they would have heard them and come out by now.
“Clearly there was some battle before we even got here, and whoever fought back fought well enough and survived long enough to kill these creatures and leave this area,” Victoria reasoned. Timotheus Smith nodded.
“Master?” Tymon asked Telémahkos as the party made their way to the entrance hall stairs. “Do you think that when you and Ida are married, we will all live in a house such as this one someday?”
“It is certainly possible,” Telémahkos replied, dismissively.
Upstairs, the contents of more rooms were packed up. The beds in the guest rooms were stripped. All was dark, and even the curtains were taken down.
“Could it be a summer home?” Victoria was perplexed by the state of the manse’s contents.
“I get the feeling things were being packed, not unpacked…” Telémahkos replied.
One small room revealed itself to be a shrine to the god Ptah, and as they left, Telémahkos grabbed a couple of small blocks of incense he saw laying around, remembering Bleys’ need. (2) There was a former laboratory with a few strange specimens left behind: a fat green worm suspended in clear oil, a stuffed one-eyed bat, a patch of blackened hide and a shrunken simian head. Markos wanted to search more closely, but the others outvoted him, pressing on.
There was a large bare room, which was an armory and training hall. There were many weapons on a rack, including the exotic spiked chain, known as a kau sin ke, and a rare and expensive gnomish repeating crossbow.
Markos was commenting on it to Laarus when suddenly the Thrician doors (3) on one side of the room burst open and in hopped two barking bullywugs brandishing spears. The first leapt up high due to the room’s tall ceiling and came down with all its might on Timotheus’ shoulder. The metal spearhead screeched against the metal of Tim’s breastplate, and he felt the shaft slam against the side of his face. The spear then clipped his thigh, drawing blood. Timotheus wavered.
“Gods! Keep this man on his feet so he can defeat the bullywugs that have invaded this once peaceful home!” Victoria prayed to Anhur and reached out a hand to Tim’s back, healing his wounds.
“Tim! Kill it!” Telémahkos shrieked, leaping in rapier drawn to distract it. He was deft at flicking the thin blade back and forth to keep the thing at bay, and manage to slap it on the arm, drawing green blood.
“BROWK!”
Laarus of Ra hurried over, heavy flail above his head, but as he brought it down, the wug caught the flail’s chain on the tip of its spear and plucked it from his hands, sending into the nearby hearth. (4)
“You’re going to pay for that!” Timotheus growled at the wug, but it deftly avoided the swings of the big man’s sword. The second bullywug leapt high over the melee and brought its spear down on Laarus as the priest stepped away from the fight to grab a longsword off the nearby rack. Laarus grunted and turning grabbed the sword, leaving himself open to attack. Thankfully his armor absorbed the follow-up blow and he grabbed the sword off and swung at the thing with one smooth motion, catching it by surprise in the leg and gut.
“BROWK!”
Tymon hurried in, cudgel in hand, to slam the first bullywug still fending off Telémahkos and Timotheus. It thrust its spear into the portly man and he moaned and fell over, balled up.
“We got you now!” Telémahkos goaded, finding his opening. The rapier slipped into the wug’s neck, and it collapsed. Timotheus spun around and finished the one menacing Laarus.
As he called to Ra to heal his wounds, Laarus Raymer noticed his cousin, grabbing the repeating crossbow.
”Cousin. Remember we are in someone’s home and cannot merely take whatever we may like,” Laarus admonished. “There will be no stealing. Put it back.”
“I will not be commanded, cousin,” Markos spat back. “Why must you assume I was stealing?”
“Because you are taking something that does not belong to you,” Laarus replied. “What would you call it?”
Timotheus stepped over and put a firm hand on each of their shoulders.
“This not the time or place to argue,” Tim said, with an even, but stern voice. “Put it back…”
Markos gave Timotheus a surly look, but did as he was told. In the meantime, Telémahkos had slipped a dagger off the rack and into tucked it unseen into the fold of his sash.
The young nobles moved down the narrow hall into the back room past the wooden doors, and around to a kitchen. Again there were signs that this place was not in much use. The large stove was covered by a large piece of canvas, and dishes and pots were packed into crates. A smaller stove had one pot atop it, and there was a small wooden table with a basin and some dishes. A staircase along one wall went back down to the first floor. Timotheus decided to go down and take a quick look around.
The tall man’s boots creaked on the wooden steps as he made his way down, noticing that there was a lamp lit down there.
He was three-quarters of the way down when the smell of bitter burning tobacco reached him. Tim paused before he had gone two more steps, but by that time it was too late.
“BROWK! BRICK!”
A bullywug was suddenly on the stairs just below him, stabbing at his legs with a spear. Timotheus stumbled back as a second wug, hopped up to the base of the steps thrust her spear at him. He barely avoided it, but felt the bite of a hand axe against his armor. She had spots of brown atop a deep olive color, and wore an elaborately painted bone necklace
“BLORP! BLORP!” A third bullywug croaked loudly within the room below, which Tim could now see was a dining room.
“There’s a big one down there!” Timotheus warned his companions as he hurried back up the steps.
Luckily, Victoria was adjacent to the open steps and thrust her long spear into the back of one of the bullywugs on Tim’s heels. The wug slipped back down the stairs mewling soft pained croaks.
“Tymon! Back anyone up who is near one of those things if they make it up here,” Telémahkos commanded his servant and he moved over to other side of the stairway, to be able to look nearly straight down on any coming up. Tymon followed him over there.
“LORB-LORB TUBB!” She loved to croak her own name. Suddenly her powerful legs sent her forward to spring at the midway point of the steps and then changed direction to head towards the opposite side of the stairs. She flew past them, ducking a blow from Laarus, but absorbing hits from Timotheus and Victoria. Telémahkos let a dagger go and it dug into her rubbery hide, but she would not be stopped, her tongue lolling out to one side of her wide mouth as she roared her mad croaks, flicking saliva in all directions. Tymon cried out as he felt her spear slam into his studded leather armor.
“Master!” He cried out in fear.
“Tymon! Get out of here!” Telémahkos pushed his servant as he withdrew himself.
“Sagitta Aquom!” Markos cast, sending an arrow of watery blue translucent light to slam into her. Victoria backed this up with another thrust of her spear from across the gap of the stairs.
Timotheus slammed down another bullywugs coming up the steps, but a third hopped up, striking Laarus. Timotheus ignored it, preferring to run over to deal with Lorb-Lorb. She spun around, and slammed the head of her axe against Tim’s helmet, and then he felt the point of her spear in his groin. Tim wavered back and forth, feeling pain wash up and down his left leg, and blood dripped into his eyes.
“Anhur!” Victoria called to her god. “Keep this man on his feet whatever it costs!” She cast cure light wounds on Timotheus to keep him going, and he thanked her by chopping Lorb-Lorb’s head in half with his sabre. He then ran back over to Laarus who was beating back the remaining wug and thrust his sabre through it sideways. Its body jerked as it fell off the blade and on to the floor, where it convulsed for a moment before finally dying with a soft croak
“Yes! I am the best! I am the best!” Timotheus pumped his sword in the air twice, crying out with a wide smile, and then wiping green blood from his face with the back of his hand.
“Quick! Someone heal Tim, I think his head is swelling!” Telémahkos quipped.
“The zeal of battlelust has overcome him,” Victoria said, smiling. “I know the feeling… Praise Anhur!”
“Praise Anhur…” Laarus echoed.
Telémahkos gave Timotheus and Laarus each one of the potions they had found in the laboratory in Kraken’s Cove. “Markos says they are probably healing potions, but we cannot be sure… But if things start looking bad, you may want to risk it…”
They decided to go up to the third floor as it was the smallest part of the house and the last place to be checked, except for the back section of the house’s first floor, where they had heard the dogs earlier.
“I think Victoria should go first,” Telémahkos said. “She is the least injured.”
”We will go up together,” Timotheus said, eager to finish the business in the Vanderboren Manse.
As Victoria of Anhur and Timotheus Smith came around the corner at the top of the stairs, the door to the master bedroom flew open.
“Let’s see who that is out there,” a gruff voice was heard to emerge from within. “I hope it is your weasel of a brother, so we can kill him and everybody else and be done with it!”
A tall raven-haired woman came stumbling out of the room as if she had been roughly pushed out, and behind her towered the broad and ugly figure of Drevoraz Krebran. The woman wore a long lavender dress, and she had teary blue eyes, that looked up at them with amazement. “It’s the signers of the Charter of Schiereiland!” She cried with obvious relief.
“Woman! Get away from him!” Victoria barked, readying her spear as she hobbled forward, but Telémahkos, seeing it was Lavinia Vanderboren, did not wait. He vaulted over the stair railing from below, and then charged at the woman, pushing her back and protecting her with his own body. He barely turned away from the deadly edge of Drevoraz great two-handed scimitar, which the half-orc raised from his side.
“You aren’t Vanthus, but you’ll do,” the half-orc snorted happily. He wore studded leather, and a red kerchief with white stripes on his head. A deep red scar on his face made his right eye a raw narrow slit.
The curved blade turned in his hand and he brought it back across, catching Telie under the chin. The gregarious young noble gagged as the skin was torn from his neck and he collapsed. He was bleeding out.
“Telémahkos!” Lavinia cried out in alarm.
“Telie!” Timotheus echoed. He pulled out the potion Telémahkos had handed him and quaffed it. Nothing happened. “Useless!” He smashed the glass vial against the stairs.
Markos took a shot that went wide, and Tymon moved up to fire from the same angle and did the same, but he was aiming at a bullywug that had hopped out of the room behind Drevoraz.
“No! Telie!” Lavinia covered Telémahkos’ body with her own, weeping. “You came here for me!”
“Brother Laarus! See to Telémahkos!” Victoria called to her fellow priest as she kicked open a different bedroom door in hopes of finding another way around the narrow hall, but there was none.
Drevoraz leapt over the railing, landing halfway down the stairs. He looked up at the vulnerable Markos and Tymon with a grin as he began to climb the stairs. His leap left room for another bullywug to emerge from the bedroom.
“When we are done, I’ll burn this place to the ground!” Drevoraz growled. “Now! Where is the brother?!”
“He isn’t even here, you lackwit!” Timotheus yelled back. He moved down the hall and cut at a bullywug with his sabre. Laarus followed up with a blow from his heavy flail and the wug collapsed.
“BLORP! CRICK! Where pearl? Where?” A squat and bloated bullywug with a more red-brown coloration to go with his drab green hide appeared in the doorway. It bore a club, and wore a necklace of hair and bone. Its eyes were a shining black.
Markos and Tymon hurried all the way up the stairs to avoid the climbing Drevoraz, and Victoria hobbled over to block his progress.
“Anhur! Bestow upon me the power of your anger and your focus so I may vanquish those who would invade this noble home!” she called out to her god, and was filled with Anhur’s holy rage. Victoria stepped down and thrust the head of her spear right into Drevoraz’s side, ripping his armor open, and sending a torrent of blood to wash down the stairs.
“I hate Anhur!” Drevoraz moaned, as he stepped up within the reach of her spear and chopped at Victoria with his great scimitar, but she ducked to avoid it.
“Where pearl?” the fat wug croaked again.
“It was destroyed!” Markos answered.
“There is no pearl here! There never was! You have been tricked!” Timotheus said, as he and Laarus continued to struggle against the two other bullywugs.
“Fall!” the bulbous bullywug commanded with a croak, shaking his painted and carved cudgel and pointing it at Tim. Timotheus felt a wash of magic come over him, as his legs weakened, but he shook it off.
“Nephthys, protect me! I will not be dominated!”
Tymon moved back to the top of the stairs and let a crossbow bolt fly, and it lodged itself in Drevoraz’s leg, as Lavina suddenly stood from where she had been protecting Telémahkos with her own body. She gripped the Steep Whip, and seemed to have some rudimentary ability to wield it.
“Back boy! He’s mine,” Victoria warned Tymon off, but Drevoraz chopped viciously at the longspear to keep it at bay. She had to pull back to get her spear in proper position again. But the half-orc stepped forward and spat at Tymon.
“That other party couldn’t defeat me, and neither can you!” He followed this up with a nasty blow that cut Victoria’s already injured leg.
A crossbow bolt from Markos cut Drevoraz’s laughter short. It pierced his neck and the first mate tumbled back down the stairs, dying.
“You are not a very nice man!” Tymon yelled with child-like anger. He rushed down the stairs, dropping his crossbow and pulling out his sword. He chopped at the prone, bleeding half-orc.
Timotheus had managed to defeat one of the bullywugs, and Laarus was whittling at the other, but the fat wug shaman cast a curing spell on it.
“Stand aside!” Victoria commanded. Hobbling into the remaining melee. She had dropped her spear and drawn her morningstar, slamming the side of the bullywug’s head, driving one of the weapon’s spikes deep into the side of its face. It collapsed, and Tim took the opportunity of the distraction to push Lavinia out of the way of the menacing shaman. Laarus of Ra, on the other hand, saw the enemy shaman was now alone, and bullrushed him back into the bedroom, out of the doorway, hoping to give everyone room to surround it.
“BROWK!” The shaman stumbled back, and then suddenly leapt with agility that belied his shape, smashing through the closed shutters and landing twenty-five feet below, out in front of the manse.
As Tymon, Laarus and Lavinia checked on Telémahkos, Timotheus, Markos and Victoria made it to the window to see where the wug went.
It stopped and turned to look at them, shaking its webbed fist. “You humans will get what you deserve when the Savage Tide comes!” It croaked.
Victoria of Anhur grabbed a spear from her back and threw it, but her rushing caused her to knock her own helmet askew, and she had to stop to fix it. (5)
As the bullywug shaman disappeared into the darkness, Timotheus was able to set an arrow to his longbow and take a shot. The satisfaction of the frogman’s croaking yelp was all he got, as the shaman continued to hop away. Markos’ final crossbow bolt disappeared harmlessly into the night.
They could now see that scattered around the huge master bedroom were several bound, unconscious figures, one of whom was a dark-haired woman in mauve watch-mage’s robes.
Victoria shuddered and then sat on the edge of the bed. (6) Lavinia ran downstairs and came back soon after with a box containing two potions, one of which she administered to Telémahkos. She offered the other to the party, but they all refused, and it was administered to the unconscious watch-mage instead, who Lavinia referred to as Maeve the Mauve. Remembering their own watch-mage, Timotheus asked Laarus to accompany him to retrieve Bleys from the bushes, after they carried Telie to what had been Vanthus’ room and the bed there.
Telémahkos groaned and stirred, asking after Lavinia.
“Lavinia is fine,” Timotheus replied, reassuringly. He added with a smile: “She really likes you, by the way…”
“I am a moron,” Telie groaned.
“No, no… You did good… You did the right thing,” Timotheus wrapped him with a blanket. “You may yet be a hero… Someday… Now rest…”
Detailed explanations would have to wait until the next day, as the hour was late, and everyone was exhausted, but Lavinia explained that she had recently hired the Jade Ravens to help protect her against increasingly shady debt-collectors, as he brother Vanthus had been using her parent’s weak credit around Thricia, and borrowing on the company name from unsavory types. The party was led by the son of one her parent’s former adventuring allies, a half-elf named Tolvin Kentai. He had been killed in the initial attack, along with his animal companion; a badger.
Among their number was a misshapen dwarf named Kashrus Kursh, who had escaped the assault and was hidden in a secret room the party never found on the first floor.
Lavinia went on to explain, that she was in the process of packing up things to be shipped back to the family’s other manse in Azure, and some of which was to be sold along with this property to help cover her debt. However, the man who had agreed to buy was present, along with his son, and both were killed when the bullywugs attacked, and their bodies were in the cellar with that of Tolvin.
The others had been spared because the bullywugs shaman, Augh Bohr, had wanted to bring them back alive to serve as sacrifices to his god.
Lastly, she explained that when she arrived here, she found that her brother, Vanthus, had been using it as some kind of hideout, since it was vacant, and that while she had found some of his things, he had not been around for a couple of weeks.
The signers of the Charter of Schiereiland were given guest rooms in pairs to sleep in, while the near-mortally wounded were given their own rooms.
(1) Markos later returned the book to the library when it was discovered the owner was still about and among the living.
(2) Bleys mentioned his need for incense in order to cast Identify in Session #7.
(3) I described these as “French Doors”, but did not want to use the term “French”, so they were dubbed “Thrician Doors” naturally.
(4) Laarus suffered a critical fumble: 79 – 83 Hard Parry, Make opposed Strength check with opponent or weapon knocked away. Roll d8 for direction. Roll for 1d4 for distance in 5 foot increments. I often take liberties in describing them, keeping the mechanical results the same.
(5) Victoria suffered a critical fumble: 05 – 07 Helm Slips. Move-equivalent action to fix or –4 to attack rolls. (No effect if no helm).
(6) When a militant of Anhur’s righteous fury ends, they become fatigued until they have rested a number of minutes equal to the number of rounds they were raging.
Linear Mode
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