Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)

[spyscribe]

Want facts at a glance? This story hour is indexed!

If you're just starting out, I recommend StevenAC's excellent compiled pdf files, complete with sidebars, illustrations, and selected thread chatter. (Some of the chatter isn't even in the thread. Spoooooky...)

Ahem, yes. And if you aren't a player in the campaign, you might want to drop by Fajitas' Rogues Gallery thread, Secrets of the Halmae. It's like a glimpse inside his dastardly little mind.

And now, a new map!

A brief note for the uninitiated:

This Story Hour is being written for two reasons and two reasons only. I am (1) compulsive and (2) poor.

"What the hell?" you might be reasonably asking yourself. Really, it’s quite simple. This campaign has been ongoing for almost a year and a half now, and for most of that time people (who shall remain nameless) have been musing aloud that there ought to be a story hour. But we’re all too busy, or too daunted, or too whatever to take on the task.

But, as I mentioned, I’m compulsive. I take a lot of notes. Some nights, the pencil doesn’t stop moving. After all, someday we might want to know that the night of November 25th passed without incident although there were some odd sounds coming from the tunnel we were sleeping in. It could be important. This note-taking has been noticed. Guess who gets tapped to write up a Story Hour. No, no, go on… guess. You get three, but the first two don’t count.

Okay, you got it? Anyway, this hinting has been going on for months. Why has my resolve crumbled now?

Well, you might recall I mentioned the whole poverty bit. Today is our DM’s birthday. I really ought to get him something. So I thought, "Hey, I’ll get him a Story Hour. It’s the gift that keeps on giving."

So Happy Birthday, Fajitas. Now you can show all your friends that you have a real, live campaign, and you know this log will get updated at least once a year, maybe twice, what with Hanukkah and all. Seriously, I hope you like it.

And if it doesn’t fit, don’t worry, it will be bigger.

[spyscribe]

Part the First:
In which: the party grows ever larger

(Another note: this is not the beginning of the campaign. I joined the group after they had been playing for several months and so this is as close to the beginning as I can lend a first-hand account. If someone (hint hint) would like to tell the story about Reyu and the bear trap, that someone would be most certainly welcome to add recollections for the sake of historical completeness.)

The group was beginning to reach an impractical size. Their cart was filled with people, and even though several had opted to walk along on foot, the temple mule who had been pressed into service for the job of drawing said cart had taken to looking forlornly over his shoulder to the Elven woman at the reins with an expression that said, "Isn’t it time to go home yet?"

Reyu, the aforementioned Elf, passes the look on to her cleric companion, Anvil the Just. It had been at his temple’s behest they had traveled to Dar Aego on a mission to buy the freedom of several citizens of Dar Pykos who, through a legal loop-hole, had been sold into slavery in Dar Aego. In fact, several members of the party had nearly fallen into that trap themselves. Their task now was almost done, and if they never saw Dar Aego again, it would be too soon. "Is there just the one left?" she asks.

Anvil nods. "But I’ve received a message from al-Assal. He wants to see us again before we leave."

"Why?"

"He didn’t say."

From the cart, a bearded man about three feet tall pokes his head up. "Maybe he still wants me to come work for him." Reyu and Anvil exchange a look over the gnome Hue’s head. Anything was possible.

Anvil shrugs, "The farm Collin Meadowson was sold to is some distance from the city, on the road back to Dar Pykos. We might as well see what al-Assal wants, and then stop for Collin on the way home."

None of the five lately freed slaves in the cart are going to argue against spending as little time in the city as possible, so the party turns slowly round towards the gates of Dar Aego.

Dar Aego is one of seven city-states in the Darine Confederacy. It is renowned for its opulent lifestyle—assuming you have the coin to pay for it—and its lovely architecture, free for the viewing. Unfortunately, architecture is about all that Dar Aego gives away for free. If you’ve got money though, anything is for sale, including justice.

Anvil would happily burn the entire city to the ground, and then a little lower for good measure.

The House of al-Assal is… well… a brothel, but a plush one. The proprietor himself welcomes the party warmly. "Ah, it is good to see you again." His gaze falls to Hue. "I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered my offer? Some of my clientele have very…exotic tastes… you could be a rich man."

Anvil cuts him off. "What is it you desire of us?"

The master of the house is unruffled. "Well, I have aided you in your quest here, and I would like to request a favor in return."

"What kind of favor?" asks Reyu with not a little suspicion.

"A young lady arrived in the city last night. She was supposed to meet a caravan going to Dar Pykos but she was delayed on the road, and they left without her. I assume you will be going in that direction soon. Perhaps you could take her there?"

As he speaks, al-Assal draws aside a brocade curtain, revealing a human girl. She’s about 19, thin, pretty, petite, and looking rather shell-shocked at being confronted by the mass of the party. She wears ordinary traveling clothes and would be nondescript if not for her striking red hair and the weasel poking his nose out of one of her cloak pockets. He and Hue’s ferret eye each other warily.

"What’s your name?" asks Reyu, not unkindly.

"Lira."

"Why are you going to Dar Pykos?" Anvil shoots next.

"I’m meeting a friend there."

Thatch, the young fighter, has been quiet but breaks in with, "Can you fight?"

Her shrug says, "I’m a 98-lb weakling, do I look like I can fight?"

Anvil informs her, "We are on a mission for Kettenek, freeing those who have been wrongly—"

"Can I come?"

"Can you leave immediately?"

Lira grabs a backpack resting by her feet and slings it onto one shoulder. "Yes."

The rest of the party exchanges a quick look. "Let’s go then."

They leave with hardly a backwards glance. Except Hue, who turns as they leave to call back, "I’ll think about your offer… It sounds very interest—" before he is picked up by the back of his coat and hauled off by Thatch.

Within minutes, the party is leaving Dar Aego as quickly as their much put-upon mule can take them.

[Fajitas]

Wak! Now that's a birthday surprise, and no mistake.

Thanks, Spyscribe. Now I'll have to push Wisdom Like Silence to get the first few adventures written up.

I can also post some world-y background information for interested readers. Enjoy.

[Piratecat]

Whoo hoo! One of my favorite West Coast players (Fajitas played Shara in my Eversink campaign, and Wisdom Like Silence played Kiri) has his own campaign and story hour.

Damn it, if I can't play in it, at least I get to live vicariously. Bliss. Thanks, Spyscribe!

[spyscribe]

Originally posted by Fajitas

Thanks, Spyscribe. Now I'll have to push Wisdom Like Silence to get the first few adventures written up.

Yup yup yup!

Also, a thank you is due to WLS, for reading this in advance of posting and providing detail and suggestions (although any mistakes are still mine, all mine!).

Because (ironically enough) we haven't gotten to the part of the campaign where I really started taking notes yet.

[WisdomLikeSilence]

Ahh, but you actually wrote it.

Just a note for our gentle readers. When we started this campaign Spycribe was brand new to role playing. She's done splendidly, and is now one of our resident rules experts.

-WLS

[dpdx]

Cool! Another fruitful result of "Six Degrees of Piratecat, Kidc and Sagiro." And another Story Hour I'll be paying rapt attention to. Well done, spyscribe. I look forward to your next update, even if it's not my birthday present.

[Snipet]

Wow! I'm impressed! This is so cool. Now I'll get the whole story about what happened before I joined the campaign!

[spyscribe]

First, thanks to everyone who has read and commented, or just lurked. This plan has been hatching for more than a month, and it's a little strange to have it out in the open. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Look for a story update soon, but, in the meantime, Adar al-Assal (whose name has been corrected in the above text) has registered a protest regarding the characterizion of his establishment in the previous chapter.

"A brothel?" al-Assal sniffs. "My dear young lady, the House of
al-Assal is bar none the finest pleasure palace in all the Halmae. We can
provide for your every whim or pleasure, sensual or intellectual, and we
cater to your every dream and desire. A mere brothel aspires to provide the
most meager of services for which the House of al-Assal is renown." He
finishes with a flourish and a low bow.

The management wishes to clarify that it meant no offense to Mr. al-Assal, and invites those who have visited the establishment in question to further enlighten the general public with their testimonials.

Further, if the general public desires clarfication on any matter regarding the Halmae: its political structures, geography, customs, or the persons (generally or specifically) therein, said public should feel free to pose such questions so that the management and editorial board might provide illumination.

Thank you.

[Orichalcum]

As a renowned connoisseur of the brothels...ahem...pleasure domes of the Halmae, I would give al-Assal's establishment two kisses and an embrace. While the enthusiasm and verbal talents of his cadre of damsels often leave something to be desired, the divans are always soft, and the decor impeccable. Of course, the place would have an improved rating if its interior plumbing was superior.

Michel al-Zagatan

[spyscribe]

Part the Second:
In which, Kettenek’s justice in Dar Aego is completed (well, a little bit of it anyway), and the party is somewhat poorer for it.

On their way to the LaGrande farm where Collin, the last slave they have been sent to free, is working, Lira is introduced to the rest of the party. Anvil the Just, Cleric of Kettenek; Reyu, an Elven Druid; Thatch, a Fighter even younger (although much taller) than Lira is; and Hue,* a Wizard.

(* Hue is a gnome, but as far as we know no one, including him, has ever seen or heard of a gnome before, so in game, we don’t refer to him as one. This is a pity because one of our great campaign quotes of all time is: "Pimp the Gnome for Justice.")

Lira reveals that she is from another city state of the Darine Confederacy, Dar Henna. She asks if the party has any news from that area, but they have nothing to share with her. Time on the road passes uneventfully and by mid-day the party reaches the farm where they were told Collin has been sold.

Collin’s owner is willing, once the situation has been explained, to sell Collin back to the party for the 100 gold pieces that he paid for him, but the difficulty comes when Collin says he doesn’t want to leave.

Anvil are Reyu are very much confused. "Don’t you desire your freedom?"

"Why would you stay in this place?"

Collin tries to answer multiple questions at once, "Of course I’d rather be free, but…" he trails off.

Hue pipes up, "You’ve got a lady friend, haven’t you?"

Collin stares at Hue in shock, as does the rest of the party. Hue is known for many things, but perceptiveness isn’t one of them.

"Yes," Collin stammers, "how did you know?"

"I can tell about these things." Hue nods and attempts to look wise. It might have gone off if he wasn’t standing in a cow pie.

Apparently, Suaress, the lady in question, is a house slave, and was subject to harassment by one of the field workers. Collin interceded on her behalf and has been protecting her since his arrival, but he fears what will happen to her once he has left.

Collin looks to the party imploringly. "Couldn’t you buy her too?"

The party was given an allowance by Anvil’s organization within the temple for their mission, but between four slave purchases and the bribes that constitute operational overhead in Dar Aego, paying for Collin will nearly exhaust the fund. The farmer is happy to sell the additional slave, but not at a loss. Somehow, the party has to come up with 100 gold pieces.

Reyu tries to exploit the group’s other skills:

"Is there anyone in your household or on the farm who requires healing?" she asks hopefully.

"No injuries as like," the farmer replies, "couple of the workers have a touch of fever, can you help with that?"

Reyu and Anvil exchange helpless looks. Alas, illnesses they can do little about.

The party huddles again:

Hue pulls a few coins from his pocket. "I could make these gold pieces look like platinum pieces, or I could use copper pieces—"

Reyu cuts him off, "I do not think that would be a wise idea. The farmer would surely be angered when he discovered the deception."

"Maybe I could convince him to lower the price," Lira suggests hesitantly.

Anvil is dubious, "Why would he do that?"

"I’ve been known to be… charming."

Male eyebrows shoot up around the circle. "Charming?"

"Not like that!" Lira catches herself starting to shout and lowers her voice to a whisper, "magically charming."

Reyu blinks. "You’re a mage?"

"A Sorcerer." Lira waits to see if there’s a follow-up to her admission, but no one presses the point.

The party considers her suggestion. "He’s going to be really angry if he notices you casting at him."

"And it would have to be a quick deal because the effect wears off in an hour."

"How far can we get in an hour?"

"Probably not far enough."

"He might alert the local guard."

No one wants to run afoul of the local guard. They don’t have near enough money to buy their own way out of enslavement. Additionally, Anvil seems to be fast running out of patience with the decidedly illegal bent that the conversation is taking.

Finally, they group turns out their own pockets. Between them, they have 58 gold pieces.

Anvil grits his teeth. "I am not going back to that city, and I’m not coming back here once we leave."

Reyu glances over their collected gear. "How much is a cart worth?"

"We don’t really need the mule if we sell the cart," Hue points out.

"We could sell Bob," someone jokingly suggests. Everyone turns to look at Thatch’s horse.

Thatch glowers at the others. "No. We. Couldn’t."

Anvil strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Thatch, go clean up the mule."

A few minutes later, the mule is clean, and the party returns to the farmhouse where the farmer is sitting on the porch, smoking his pipe patiently.

Reyu steps forward, "All right, the cart, the mule and… 57 gold pieces, but that’s our last offer."

The farmer hesitates. "I’d have to see the mule."

"Examine him as you like."

Anvil points out the animal’s best qualities. "As you can see, he is sound and fit."

The farmer grunts. "Well, he’s clean."

"He is a holy mule, raised by acolytes of Kettenek."

"Huh," the farmer seems only marginally impressed. "57 gold you said?"

"Yes," Reyu replies firmly.

Another long pause. A sigh. "Sold," says the farmer.

Anvil shakes his hand. "May Kettenek’s Justice be upon you." Then, he turns to the party. "Okay, everybody out of the cart!"

And so, as the sun sinks slowly in the west, the party, including Lira, and six newly-freed slaves begins the journey back to Dar Pykos… on foot.

[Cerebral Paladin]

I suppose commenting on how our heroes are encouraging further illegal slave taking by making it financially beneficial is missing the point...

Seriously, it's great to finally get to read these stories in full instead of just hearing occasional war stories from Fajitas. Looking forward to more posts!

[Fajitas]

Originally posted by Cerebral Paladin
I suppose commenting on how our heroes are encouraging further illegal slave taking by making it financially beneficial is missing the point...

Well, yes.

It is worth noting that the people who bought these slaves had no idea they were involved in anything illegal. They thought they were buying legitimate slaves. The people who were *knowingly* involved in illegal activities... well, things didn't end up so financially beneficial for them.

[Jodo Kast]

Well-written story hour, spyscribe, I'm looking forward to more installments on this one.

Fajitas, it seems you have addressed the issues associated with legal vs. illegal slave trade. Does your campaign deal with the larger issue of the immorality of the practice as a whole, whether sanctioned by law or not?

[Fajitas]

Originally posted by Jodo Kast
Does your campaign deal with the larger issue of the immorality of the practice as a whole, whether sanctioned by law or not?

I'm not entirely sure how to answer this. Abolitionism is not a rampant theme in the game, if that's what you're asking. But certainly more evil comes of it than good, as you'll see in a few runs. There are both organizations and individuals opposed to it, but with one notable exception, they have never really taken center stage.

The PCs, of course, have their own well developed ideas on the morality of the practice. They are not, on the whole, in favor of it. Particularly those of them who nearly experienced it from the inside.

It is also worth noting that slavery in the Halmae is based more on a Grecco-Roman slavery system than an American chattal slavery system. Slaves do have some rights. It's illegal to kill a slave, for example. Of course, in Dar Aego, if you're rich enough to own a slave, you're almost certainly rich enough to buy your way out of trouble for killing one. This is one of the reasons why Anvil the Just wants to burn the place to the ground.

The legality of slavery varies from city-state to city-state within the Darine Confederacy. This and other inconsistencies in the Law are a source of concern among some members of Anvil's order. Look for a more detailed side-bar on that soon.

[spyscribe]

As the party trudges along the road to Dar Pykos (trudge trudge trudge), an interlude:

At the front of the column is Anvil, properly known as Anvil the Just. He walks at the front because that is where Kettenek's Justice can best be served. Unless it happens to be best found at the back, at which time he will move.

Anvil is in his mid-twenties and is most recognizable by his thick dark beard and the silver holy symbol of Kettenek hanging around his neck. Kettenek, when not demanding Justice, also rules the domains of Winter and Earth. At this moment, Anvil is explaining to Lira the benefits of becoming an acolyte of his temple once they return to Dar Pykos. Apparently, she looks like someone lacking direction in life.

"Umm... I'm sure all that's true, but Ehkt gave me a challenge first," she finally gets a chance to explain. Ehkt is a god whose domains include (among other things) Summer, Fire, and Chaos.

"What sort of challenge?" Anvil wants to know.

Lira stops to concentrate for a moment, and then fires a Ray of Frost into the trees above their heads. A bird squawks in protest.

"That sort of challenge."

On Lira's shoulder, her weasel familiar, Euro, bounces up and down excitedly, pausing only to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, "Yeah, you show 'em, Boss."

Anvil falls silent, perhaps unsure if Kettenek needs an acolyte who practices arcane arts.

Lira makes her escape while she can, and falls back until Reyu, the Elven Druid, dressed in leather as if she were still living among her own people in the forest, stops her.

"You could have hit that bird," she reproaches her.

Lira has the grace to blush, making her cheeks almost the same shade as her hair. "Sorry."

Lira and Reyu, are, by strange coincidence, exactly the same height and weight. One might mistake them for twins, if one were 50 yards off, blind drunk, and dumb as a post.

Aside from obvious species differences, Reyu has dark hair, which she wears with beaded braids in the traditional manner of her people. At a glance, another Elf, or one well-acquainted Elven customs, can know her name, tribe, and major accomplishments.

Reyu sighs to herself. She has been sent by the matriarch to learn more about the humans, under the theory that it is always wise to know a potential enemy. She has been among them now for less than a month and not only have they tried to arrest and enslave her for a crime she did not commit, but that act has paled against what she has seen them to do each other. If humans have not fallen in her estimation, it is only because they didn't have anywhere to go.

Thatch, the party's front line, or to be more accurate, front point, whistles to himself as he walks beside his horse, Bob. Thatch tops six and half feet tall, weighs close to 300 pounds with his armor on, and carries a very effective, if slightly rusty, sword. He is also seventeen years old and fresh off the farm. The horse, Bob, also has the air of being more accustomed to drawing a plow than carrying his owner into battle.

The sword was Thatch's uncle's. His uncle was a great hero in The War. Admittedly, no one in the party is exactly sure which war that might be. Thatch is from a small city-state called Sirrus, south of the Darine Confederacy. Sirrus is most known for its poverty, which usually ensures that no one bothers to attack it. Thatch is sure that the conflict was great and important and that in it his uncle did great and mighty deeds. If others doubt, they usually look at the young Fighter and decide the point is not worth pressing.

Bringing up the rear of the procession is Hue. A grown man three feet tall with an unkempt beard and wild white hair. Hue is either a Gnome Wizard with a ferret familiar, or the Gnome familiar of a ferret Wizard. Really, the party isn't sure. When Lira introduced her weasel and asked him if his ferret had a name he replied:

"Oh, I don't know. Names are a very powerful thing, and he's not going to tell me his."

No one in the party has ever met anyone like Hue. Nor has anyone they have ever met. Nor has Hue himself. But, as Anvil once said, "He is skilled, and knows many things."

Hue's great passion is a monograph he is in the process of writing: 900 pages on the mating habits of squirrels. Even Reyu, with her love of the natural world and exhaustive knowledge of all its creatures, never desired to know that much about that particular topic.

And so, the day wears on. And the party continues walking towards Dar Pykos.

[Jodo Kast]

Great story and style, Spyscribe. We're all benefiting from your gift to Fajitas (and from your compulsiveness and poverty, I suppose).

[KidCthulhu]

Not with the squirrels again! What is it about squirrels that fascinates adventurers so?

[spyscribe]

Part the Third:
In which, Elven curiosity is satisfied, but other mysteries are left unsolved.

It’s a long walk back to Dar Pykos.

As they make their way down the road, Hue tries to engage one of the newly freed slaves, Amelia, in conversation. Amelia is about fifteen years old, with washed-out blonde hair. Standing more than a head shorter than the girl, Hue catches a glimpse of her pretty gray eyes as she watches the ground in front of her. He's the only one who can tell what color her eyes are. In the time she’s been with the party, none of them have seen her make eye contact with anyone.

"So," he asks, "you’re a student at the Mage’s Academy?"

Amelia almost spits out her response. "I was."

"Aren’t you going to go back once we reach Dar Pykos?"

Amelia does not seem to be in a talking mood. "I hope to. If they’ll have me."

"Why wouldn’t they take you back?"

"I don’t know."

Hue is not perturbed by Amelia’s lack of forthcoming. "I tried to get into the Mage’s Academy, once. They didn’t want me. They do strange things there sometimes."

Amelia looks dubiously down at the small man walking beside her, but declines to be drawn into further conversation.

Lira listens to the exchange and turns to Reyu.

"What’s going on there?"

Reyu makes a non-committal gesture. "We’re not sure. Amelia was sold into slavery some months ago. Her first owner horribly abused her, then was found murdered. We purchased her freedom from the family that bought her at auction, the Vojers. The next day we got word that Lord Vojer had been found bludgeoned to death."

"You think she had something to do with it?"

"She denies it, but I’ve seen the scars on her back. If she did, I don’t blame her."

Amelia steadfastly refuses to open up to anyone, despite friendly overtures from most of her rescuers. The entire group makes camp for the night in a clearing a little way from the road. They set watches, but aside from some agitation from Lira’s weasel familiar, Euro, the night is quiet.

Just before sunrise, Anvil and Reyu are on watch when Reyu catches sight of a figure in the woods. "Who goes there?"

The figure takes off running.

Reyu, instead of going in pursuit, casts entangle on the woods in front of her where the figure was running. There is a surprised yelp from the woods, but she notices another shadowy figure leaving the writhing branches. She follows as Anvil wakes the others.

When the rest of the group catches up to Reyu they find her facing off against five elves, one of whom is just pulling his way out of the trees—having added several leaves and twigs to his hair’s traditional beads and braiding.

Reading the leader’s braids, Reyu notes that the group is from the Comin Nation, who usually stay much farther north on the peninsula.

"You’re far from your home, brethren," Reyu observes. Simultaneously, she motions for Anvil to put down his sword.

The leader of the Elves slowly lowers his bow as the party stands down. "As are you," he replies.

Fortunately for the party, the Elves aren’t interested in a fight, but wondering why Reyu is traveling with so many humans. She reassures them that she travels of her own free-will and is not enslaved or otherwise coerced by the rest of the party. Apparently satisfied, the Elves continue on, leaving the party to break camp.

(Note: Elves in the Halmae have a vaguely Native American tribal culture. They mix with humans occasionally, but there is still a certain amount of racial tension.)

The party reaches Dar Pykos the following day. Reyu never thought she would be happy to see a human city, but compared to Dar Aego, she’s thrilled to cross the threshold of the city gates.

Although Tenacious the Just (Anvil’s superior at the temple) is sorry that the party has lost the cart and mule he gave them, he is, overall, quite pleased with their work. Tenacious and Anvil are both members of an organization within the Temple of Kettenek known as the Universal Law Caucus, devoted to bringing about a single law code to the entire Darine Confederacy. The Caucus hosts a dinner for the returning heroes and especially the Pykosian citizens they have recently freed from illegal enslavement.

(DM’s note: This dinner was a significant event, in that it was a huge PR stunt for the Universal Law Caucus. Five Pykosian citizens had been unrighteously sold into slavery, due to unscrupulous individuals and a gross miscarriage of Justice permitted by a loophole that Kettenek never intended. This became a rallying cry for the Caucus, and put them on the political map in Dar Pykos. Tenacious played it up for everything it was worth.)


During the dinner, an acolyte comes up and taps Anvil on the shoulder.

"Justicar, there is a message for you."

Outside the banquet hall, Anvil meets a messenger bearing a letter from Immobile, a Justicar the party met in Dar Aego (Anvil had actually been sent to seek him out as he is one of the few members of the Universal Law Caucus in the city-state). The night after the party left the city, two of al-Assal’s men had been beaten to death, in a manner similar to all of Amelia’s former owners. Anvil sends word for Reyu, Thatch, and Hue to join him.

"Could it have had something to do with Amelia?" Thatch asks. "She was at the House of al-Assal before she was bought at auction in Dar Aego."

"I don’t see how, she was with us, halfway to Dar Pykos." Reyu replies.

"Lira was there the night before, maybe she knows something."

Anvil sends an acolyte for Lira who quickly joins them.

"What is it?" she asks.

Anvil brings her up to speed. "Do you know anything of these happenings?" he demands.

"No. I don’t think so." She squirms under the collective gaze of the party.

"Could the attackers have been looking for you?" Anvil looms over the tiny sorcerer.

"Gods, I hope not. I really don’t think they were. There was this one guy, maybe… but I wasn’t even there."

Anvil fixes her with a look he’s perfected from his years on the bench. "Are you a criminal?"

"No!" she protests, loud enough to draw a look from a passing server.

While the party is still somewhat unsure of their new companion, she does seem to be telling the truth, and the matter rests.

(Actual exchange went something like this:
Anvil: Are you a criminal?
Lira: No!
DM: Sense motive, anyone?)

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Lira declines Anvil’s offer of a bed at the temple, and instead goes to meet her contact in the city, a man named Devon attached to the Questors, a sect of Ehkt. The reason why she seemed so uncomfortable surrounded by Justicars starts to become more apparent when the others realize she is a follower of the god of among other things, chaos.

Slowly, the slaves freed by the party in Dar Aego return to their normal lives. Collin goes back to his own farm outside the city, along with Suaress. Amelia is quickly and quietly readmitted to the Mage’s Academy, although Reyu sends her off with a stern warning not to get into trouble. Amelia certainly doesn’t seem to be in the mood to go looking for any.

And so, with everyone safely home, the party takes a well-deserved break, all hoping that whatever trouble they might have found in Dar Aego will be content to stay there and they will be able to move on to the next chapter of their lives.

[spyscribe]

(The management realizes that the gentle reader might, after perusal of previous chapters, be asking him or herself questions such as, "Just who is this Kettenek guy anyway? And why is he so possessive about Justice?"

It is for the purpose of shedding light on such matters that we are pleased to bring you periodic informational supplements. While they should not be necessary for comprehension of the plot, it is our hope that they will provide an entertaining diversion for those with an interest in matters of the world and culture of our protagonists.

--spyscribe)

Sidebar: Gods of the Halmae
courtesy of Fajitas

There is an old parable about the three blind men and the elephant.

Three blind men are asked to describe an elephant. The first feels around and finds the trunk. "Aha," he says. "An elephant is like a snake!" The second blind man feels around and finds the legs. "No, no," he says. "An elephant is like a tree." The third finds an ear. "You’re both wrong," he declares. "An elephant is like a manta ray."

So it is with the Gods of the Halmae. They are strange and mysterious, and defy simple explanation.

Here is what is (almost) universally agreed upon*. In the beginning, there were four fundamental forces, distinct in kind but equal in power. They joined together to make and maintain the World. Mortals call them Gods. What they call themselves is unknown.

(*The Sovereignty of Kettenek, a powerful theocracy, has a different view of the divine order.)

Each of the Gods has multiple interpretations, but where one is found, the other three are present also. They are the four elements. They are the four seasons. They are the cycle of life. They are the four axes of alignment.

KETTENEK (keh-TEN-eck)

Kettenek is seen as a stalwart figure, implacable and unmoving, Guardian of the Underworld and Lord of Winter. He brings the freezing cold, and like the cold he hardens and strengthens things. Foundations are laid with Kettenek. His words endure, and his law is rigid. He is God of the Dead, though not of death, and holds the barrier between the living and the unliving.

Kettenek’s domains are Law, Earth, Strength, Protection, and Death. Winter is his time of strength.

Anvil the Just is a follower of Kettenek. He is a member of the Justicars, an order devoted to Kettenek as the maker of Law. Justicars tend to see the world in black and white. Legal is permissible. Illegal is not. They are the judges and arbitrators of the Halmae.

Anvil also belongs to a growing sub-sect within the Justicars known as the Universal Law Caucus. This is a group of Justicars indignant about the way the Law changes from city-state to city-state. The Law, they argue, should be an absolute. Why then is it not the same in Dar Pykos as it is in Dar Aego? (In fact, an unscrupulous exploitation of these legal loopholes is what got the PCs into this mess to begin with.) The Caucus is working to change this, though they face substantial opposition from both other Justicars and civil authorities.

ALIRRIA (uh-LIR-ee-uh)

Alirria is the tender mother figure, caring and nurturing, lover of all life and the Lady of Spring. Her tears of joy bring the rains, which restore all things to health. Spring is the time of plantings and beginnings. Journeys commence in Spring, and children are conceived. Her world is a world of love.

Alirria’s domains are Good, Water, Healing, Plant, Animal, and Travel. Spring is her time of strength.

EHKT (ect)

Ehkt is a boisterous warrior, never resting, never shirking, like a fire, always growing in any and all directions he can. He is the Champion of Summer. Ehkt seeks all challenges, physical or mental, and demands that they be conquered. His days are days of war and learning. Summer is a time to take on adversity and to be all that you are capable of, for good or for ill.

Ehkt’s domains are Chaos, Fire, Sun, War, and Knowledge. Summer is his time of strength.

Lira is a member of the Questors, an order that sees Ehkt as the God of Challenges. Questors constantly seek new obstacles to test themselves. There is no quest, no dare, no stunt that a devout Questor will not attempt.

SEDELLUS (SEH-deh-lus)

Sedellus is a creeping, hiding figure, crouched and lurking, the Mistress of Autumn, the Wind of Change, the Whisper of Death. Things wither at her touch. When her chill breath blows, leaves fall, animals flee, cities topple. Some folk are ruined by her cruel whimsy. Some are blessed. Some are merely ignored. Which it will be, she does not tell. Autumn is the time of death, a time of upheaval, a time of change for weal or woe. And the Mistress cares not which.

Sedellus’s domains are Evil, Air, Luck, Trickery, and Destruction. The Autumn is her time of strength.

Most members of the party and the general population worship all four in equal degrees. However, there are many sects devoted to specific aspects of each God. For example, The Lady’s Handmaidens worship Alirria as the goddess of love, while Nature’s Tenders focus on her as the goddess of nature. Some join these sects because their vocations demand it. Some join because their personalities draw them towards one god or one aspect. But even those, like Anvil, who have dedicated their lives to one specific part of the divine order, acknowledge the presence and power of the other three.

There is very seldom in-fighting between religious sects. Like the blind men and the elephant, each interpretation is correct, if not wholly complete.

Between them, the gods govern every aspect of the world. But there is one exception: arcane magic.