Uprising
Once the former castaways, who had, at Arioch’s suggestion, taken to calling themselves the Glorious Bastards, informed Ishirou of their decision to join the Aspis Consortium, they had been immediately contacted by Dargan Etters, the expedition’s leader. He was charismatic, but made it clear that the undertaking to find Saventh-Yi was purely a business venture, and he was going to insure its success no matter the cost. The expedition was going to be ready to depart Eleder within the week, and all of the preparations were being made in a warehouse in the New Haliad district. The following day, as the group was making its way towards the warehouse to oversee the proceedings, they were startled to hear screams and shouts coming from about a block away. Moments later, a panicked mob came tearing around the corner and down the street, fearfully pushing past the companions.
“Run!” one terrified citizen shouted as he past.
“What’s happening?” Jack asked.
“It’s the Freemen!” the man shouted. “They’ve let loose rabid dogs in the streets! Run!”
A pack of half-a-dozen slavering curs came bounding and howling behind the fleeing crowd, taking down one unfortunate fat man and tearing his throat out before bounding forward. The Bastards stood their ground, and as the first dog leaped for Gorak, the big barbarian cut it cleanly in half with a slash of his massive sword. Agnar, standing a few paces back, growled a prayer to his dark god, and a small, concentrated thunderclap sent the pack flying, leaving several sprawled, stunned on the ground. Nessalin picked off one still on its feet by channeling an acidic cantrip through his scimitar. Zavasta cleaned up the remaining mongrels by lobbing an unsubtle bomb into their midst, setting them all ablaze, and ending their lives in agony.
“Who are these Freeman that man mentioned?” Nessalin asked.
“Freed slaves,” Agnar replied. “I’ve heard about them in my dealings with the locals. They try to stir up the Mwangi against foreigners, merchants and others they believe stand behind the slave trade. Ingrates! They should be thankful for their own freedom, and leave well-enough alone.”
“Do you smell that?” Jack asked abruptly. “Smoke.”
“There,” Gorak grunted, pointing towards a greasy, black column rising several blocks away.
“Isn’t that near our warehouse?” Lyrissa asked.
“Hells!” Arioch snapped. “Come on!”
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When the Bastards reached the row of warehouses, they saw that indeed it was theirs that was already in flames. Two hooded Mwangi men stood nearby with lit torches in their hands. When they saw the companions, they shouted in their native tongues and dropped their torches as they pulled shortbows from their backs. Gorak growled low in his throat, horns sprouting from his brow as he started forward. The two Freemen loosed arrows, and both took the barbarian in his left thigh. Gorak snarled, but kept going, dragging his injured leg behind him. As he closed, the Freemen dropped their bows and pulled cudgels from their belts. They circled the half-orc warily, and then both darted forward, clubbing the barbarian once in the head, and once across his shoulders. Gorak howled like a feral animal, and electricity crackled around his horns. Lowering his head, he charged one of the thugs, tossing the man several feet back, sparks spitting from the man’s wounds. The second man struck Gorak again, but the barbarian shrugged off the blow, stalking forward to finish off his victim. As the wounded Freeman started to rise, Gorak impaled him to the ground with his sword. He then whirled towards his second assailant, only to find Nessalin already there. The magus slashed with his scimitar, and electricity surged through it as it struck, electrocuting the thug as it simultaneously opened his belly.
Arioch quickly opened a summoning circle, and an elemental formed of water erupted from it. At the summoner’s direction, the creature leaped for the roof of the warehouse, extinguishing the flames before they could do further damage. As he watched the creature work, a warehouse worker rushed up to Arioch.
“Sir!” he shouted, gasping for air. “It was the Freeman!”
“We know,” the summoner said tersely.
“Yes, but they’ve taken the Tian man!”
“Ishirou?” Arioch snapped. “How? Where?”
“The Freeman have taken over the South Arcadian Whaling Company!” the worker said. “Their leader, a man named Umagro, is calling for the slaughter of all foreigners, and the overthrow of the government! That’s where they took your friend!”
Arioch turned angrily to his companions.
“The elemental can finish up here,” he said. “We’ve got some insurgents to kill.”
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The South Arcadian Whaling Company was easily located at the end of Whalebone Lane by the pungent stench that surrounded it. It was a large complex of whitewashed stone and brick, walled on all sides, including the beachfront. When the Bastards arrived, a large crowd had already gathered outside the complex, staring up at the roof of the main building. Thirty feet above, a man stood on the rooftop. He was Mwangi, and his face was decorated with fierce tribal war paint. He held another man, barely conscious, in front of him, a wicked-looking kukri at the second man’s throat. Arioch could tell immediately that the hostage was Ishirou.
“Fight back!” the Freeman exhorted the crowd below. “Take back your freedom from the colonial oppressors! They have brought the foreigners here to make slaves of us all! We will kill them first, starting with this one!”
The spectators, mostly Mwangi workers, but with a handful of Sargavans among them, murmured a mixture of approval and dismay.
“We’ve got to work quickly,” Arioch said quietly to his companions. “Jack, you stay with me. The rest of you try to find another way into this place. Be unobtrusive. I don’t want this crowd to turn into a rioting mob.”
“If they do, then they’ll burn with the rest of them!” Zavasta snarled.
“I would prefer that be our last resort,” Arioch replied. “Now go!”
As the group split up, Arioch and Jack made their way around the seaward wall of the compound, out of the direct view of most of the crowd. There, the summoner opened a small circle, admitting a crackling elemental composed of pure lightning into the material world. As Jack watched in amazement, Arioch spoke to the elemental in its own unintelligible tongue. The creature pulsed once, then ascended towards the rooftop as Arioch began another summoning.
Gorak led the others around the front of the complex, where they found a single door leading into what was probably an office for the company. Unfortunately, the door was locked. That didn’t deter the big barbarian. Lowering his shoulder, Gorak smashed into the door, knocking it from its hinges. Two Mwangi Freeman stood startled on the other side, but as the half-orc rushed in, they quickly regained their composure and drew clubs from their belts. To their credit, they held their ground in the face of the hulking barbarian, pummeling him repeatedly as he tried to bring his greatsword to bear in the cramped office space.
“Fire in the hole!” Gorak heard Zavasta shout, and he instinctively flattened against a wall.
A moment later, a hissing bomb landed between the Freeman and exploded, showering them both with liquid fire.
Arioch’s elemental rose silently above the edge of the roof behind Umagro. The Freeman leader was still preaching to his audience when he heard a sudden rush of air and smelled ozone. As he began to turn, the elemental bowled into him, knocking Ishirou from his grasp. The semi-conscious rogue stumbled two paces, and them toppled over the edge, plummeting towards the ground below. The crowd gasped, but at the last instant before Ishirou smashed into the paving stones, he abruptly began to float slowly the last few feet. He settled softly to the ground, but before he lost consciousness completely, his blurry vision found Arioch standing behind the onlookers.
Back on the rooftop, Umagro was enraged. He roared inarticulately, his teeth elongating into fangs. As the elemental spun back towards him, the Freeman leaped at it like a savage beast, hacking and slashing with his kukris, while biting and tearing with his teeth. Within seconds, the elemental winked out of existence, banished back to its home plane. Umagro raised his face towards the sky and howled his fury. He never saw the second elemental, this one made of air, rise quietly to the roof behind him and deposit Jack gently upon the shingles. Jack swallowed once, his pulse pounding as he watched the murderous Freeman, waiting for just the right moment. As Umagro began to turn towards him, the rogue realized it was then or never. Shouting his own battle-cry, Jack rushed across the roof, closing the distance to Umagro. He hit the big man at a full charge, and to his own amazement, managed to take Umagro off his feet and send him tumbling over the edge of the roof towards the courtyard of the compound.
“I did it!” Jack crowed. “I really did it!”
Suddenly, a whistling hiss split the air, and the rogue felt a searing pain in his leg. He looked down and saw an arrow protruding from his thigh. When he looked up again, he saw on the roof of another building across the compound a Freeman sniper. The man was even then knocking another arrow. Jack threw himself flat, and quickly scuttled back behind the peak of the roof. He spotted a hatch several feet away, and he crawled over to it, and lifted it slowly and quietly. He found himself looking down into the interior of a large building with one side, the one facing the courtyard, completely open. At the front of the area, huge winches hung from the ceiling, rigged to oversized wooden blocks dangling hooks and straps. Toward the back, directly below him, a metal and wood grid bisected the building, acting as a second floor. Atop the grid, a series of long, trough-shaped vats lined the back wall. Below the grid stood three tremendous cast-iron boilers. A ladder led down to the grid from the trap door, and standing at the bottom of it were three more Freeman. Jack cursed softly to himself, and eased the trap door closed again.
As the two thugs in the office struggled to extinguish the flames that clung to their cloaks, Gorak finally managed to skewer one of them with his massive sword. Behind him, Nessalin darted into the room and quickly finished off the other. The pair then opened another door on the far side of the office, and found themselves in the courtyard. To their amazement, Umagro was already there, hauling himself to his feet, bruised and bloodied, but still with nothing but feral fury in his eyes. Above them, they saw the miniature whirlwind of Arioch’s air elemental streak across the yard towards another building on the far side. Once there, it bowled into a Mwangi bowman, sending the man screaming off the roof to his death on the rocky beach below. Gorak barely noticed. He lowered his head, snorting, as horns grew from his brow. With a snarl, he charged across the courtyard towards Umagro. He hit the Freeman full on, but Umagro was ready this time. He took the blow, but held his ground and threw the big half-orc back. His kukri flashing, he rushed the barbarian, forcing him backwards into the flensing house.
The broad, cobbled courtyard was surrounded by buildings. On the side facing the beach, a wide ramp led down to the shore through a gated arch. Wedged into the passage lay the bloody carcass of a tremendous whale. The carcass was bound with thick cables that led to a crank hoist at the top of the ramp. The entire complex reeked of burnt fat and slaughter. When Agnar entered the courtyard from the office, he smiled.
“Ah, this smells like home!” he sighed.
He looked longingly at the massive corpse of the whale.
“If only…,” he shook his head. “Still, all is not lost.”
He gestured towards the body of one of the dead Freeman.
“Rise!” he commanded.
The flesh dissolved from the man’s bones as his skeleton clambered to its feet. At that moment, another Freeman insurgent dashed into the courtyard from the far side. When he saw the animated corpse of his former companion, he was horrified. He was jarred out of his shock a moment later, however, when the skeleton slashed him with the same club it had wielded in life. The Freeman rocked back, but then gripped his own club more tightly and smashed it into the skeleton’s skull, which promptly shattered.
Agnar shrugged.
“Oh well,” he said. “I’m sure there will be more.”
As Umagro continued to drive Gorak deeper into the flensing house, Nessalin dashed across the courtyard to his friend’s aid. When he entered the building, however, the men on the scaffolding above suddenly upended a barrel of whale oil, drenching both Gorak and the magus. Just then, Zavasta entered the courtyard and saw the target-rich environment in the flensing house. He grinned evilly as he ignited one of his bomb and cocked his arm back to throw.
“No!!” Nessalin cried, but it was too late.
Zavasta let his bomb fly, and it scored a direct hit to Umagro. Unfortunately, the splash from the explosion set the spilled oil ablaze, and within moments, Umagro, Gorak, Nessalin, and the three Freeman above them all found their clothing in flames.
Lyrissa wasn’t far behind Zavasta, and when she saw the chaos in the flensing house, she just shook her head in exasperation. Her attention was redirected quickly, however, as the Freeman still in the courtyard charged towards her and Agnar. The bardess shouted an ululating battle cry as she met the charge, her fervor inspiring her companions around her, filing them with renewed confidence. Lyrissa speared the Freeman on the point of her blade, and then spun away, disemboweling him in the process.
Jack watched the mayhem below through the trapdoor and realized that if he was going to make his move, it had to be then. Taking a deep breath, he threw the door open and leaped through. He dropped thirty feet, directly to the ground level, only his natural athleticism preventing him from breaking any bones. Still, he landed hard on his back, forcing the breath out of him for a moment. His weapons were in his hands, however, and he was directly at Umagro’s feet. The Freeman leader was still preoccupied with putting himself out, so he never saw the attack coming. Jack thrust his rapier upwards, straight through Umagro’s back. The Freeman roared in pain and fury, but then Gorak hit him head-on, his horns lowered and driving into the big man’s belly. As Umagro fell backwards, Nessalin rushed in, his scimitar sizzling with electricity. The blow was telling and fatal. Umagro died with his clothes still on fire.
When the other Freeman saw their leader fall, their resolve faltered. They broke off the fight and fled the compound, disappearing into the crowd gathered outside. The Bastards were injured and fatigued, or else they wouldn’t have let their assailants escape with their lives. They tended their wounds as well as Ishirou’s. The older man was still alive, though only barely. He didn’t recall much of what had happened, only being ambushed at the warehouse. Among Umagro’s gear,however, Jack found a folded note. It was addressed to the Freeman leader, and insinuated that the Aspis Consortium was funding the expedition into the Mwangi interior in order to increase the slave trade in Sargava. There was no signature, just a symbol crudely drawn at the bottom…the Glyph of the Open Road. When Ishirou had recovered, he also found a small scrap of parchment hidden in his own pocket. On it was written a single sentence: “Who’s hungry now, bitches?”
“Gelik!” Agnar snarled.
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“So you think it was the Pathfinders?” Dargan Etters asked. “Well, that makes sense. I’m a little envious I didn’t think of the idea first. Still, a scrawled glyph isn’t enough evidence to go to the authorities with. It just means we need to speed up preparations and get things moving a little ahead of schedule. It also means that you need to grow eyes in the back of your heads. If the Pathfinders have balls enough to try something like this, then there’s no telling what the Red Mantis or the Free Captains might try. There’s one more thing you need to take care of before you set out. You’ll be needing a seasoned guide on the road. There’s a priest of Gozreh named Nkechi. The locals call him the Tempest. He’s supposed to be the most knowledgeable man in these parts about the dangers of the Mwangi Expanse, plus he’s known and respected among the indigenous. He’s something of a hermit. He lives in a cave a few miles north of here, in the cliffs called the Pallid Bluffs. I suggest you seek him out and see what it will take to secure his services. Barring that, then he needs to be eliminated. We don’t want to give our rivals any advantage.”
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The jagged seaside cliffs of pale limestone towered over the rocky shore. Gulls wove overhead in the updraft, while from below rose the deafening echoes of the rolling surf as it beat against the rocks. The cliff face of the Pallid Bluffs looked to be at least three-hundred feet in height, and the beach below was narrow, never more than twenty-feet wide at any point. Though the waters were shallow, the rock and sand beneath the surface made for uneasy footing, and the pounding surf produced a strong undertow. As the Bastards made their way along the inhospitable shoreline, the water beside them began to churn even more violently. A pair of enormous crabs, each the size of a pony, crawled out of the surf and began scuttling towards the companions. Though the animals appeared fierce with their snapping claws, they were no match for Gorak and Nessalin, who dispatched them easily, and then shoved their bodies back into the ocean.
A bit further down the shore, the group came upon a horn made from a conch shell tethered to the rock wall. High above, a cave mouth could just be seen from the ground, its entrance covered with gates of woven bamboo and palm leaf. Lyrissa stepped forward and winded the horn. Several minutes passed before a dark-skinned man appeared upon the high, narrow ledge before the cave. Dressed in nothing but a loincloth, his wild, knotted hair whipped about in the wind. Shouting above the crashing surf, he called down.
“Who are you, and for what purpose do you seek me?”
“We seek to hire your services!” Lyrissa called up over the howling wind. “We are part of an expedition into the deep Mwangi, and we need an experienced guide!”
“Indeed you do, if the only solution you’ve found to dealing with the local fauna is to kill them!” the man snapped. “Still, wait there. I’ll be down.”
The old man climbed like a giant spider down the cliff face, sure-footed and confidant. Within a couple of minutes, he stood on the beach before the companions.
“So, off into the wilds are you?” the old man snorted. “In truth, I am skeptical of your abilities. At best you seem to me blissful incompetents. I doubt you even capable of finding your way back to town, much less through the jungle. But Gozreh may have different ideas, and it may serve his purpose for me to accompany you. I am willing to accept your proposal if you first prove yourselves by completing two simple tests, one of wind and one of water. Of course, you may decline, but I must add that if you fear performing Gozreh’s simple tasks, there is no way you will survive the jungle.”
Arioch glanced around at his companions, and he could see that immediately that Agnar and Zavasta would have no qualms about killing the man now. If it came down to it, he would do the same, but it would be best for all involved if they could get the priest’s cooperation.
“Very well,” the summoner agreed. “What are these tasks?”
The challenge of water is hardly difficult,” Nkechi said. “Mostly, it is a test of patience and fortitude. Gozreh requires that you retrieve for him a single black pearl. Head north a bit, out by the crags of the cape. Those shores are filled with oyster beds, and such pearls are not uncommon to those who know where to look. The task of wind is simple as well. All Gozreh requires is a simple, complete feather from a humble stormbird. One such magnificent creature, named Chirok, lives but a day’s walk east. There, at the end of the peninsula, you’ll spot a lone promontory known as Gozreh’s Crest. The bird nests at the top of the cliff. Return when you have a feather. “
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The Bastards chose the water task first, since the oyster beds were closer than Gozreh’s Crest. As they traveled up the coast, they came upon a village of indigenous pearl divers. They were friendly, and offered the companions advice on how to dive for pearls. They warned about the strong currents off shore, and of the sharp edges of the oyster shells and coral. They were even willing to barter some of their diving equipment, such as sandbag weights and diving floats. When the group reached the point along the shore adjacent to the oyster beds, Gorak, Jack and Nessalin volunteered to go out. Since they had no boat, and none of them were great swimmers, Agnar cast a prayer on the three of them that allowed them to temporarily breathe water. Then, the trio roped themselves loosely together so that they would not get separated by the current, and then strung together several more lengths of rope to tether them back to those on shore. When all of the preparations were made, the three waded out into the surf and vanished beneath the surface. The oyster beds lay some sixty-feet down, about one-hundred feet off shore. Once the companions reached the beds, they set about the tedious task of prying up and opening the oysters. They found many mundane pearls, and even the occasional black one, but none where of the quality Nkechi had specified. After several minutes of searching, something caught Gorak’s eye. The barbarian looked up and blinked several times. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. A beautiful woman floated languidly several yards away from him. As his gaze met hers, she smiled at him and beckoned to him. The oyster in his hand slipped, forgotten, to the sea floor as he walked towards her, drawn by her overwhelming allure. When he reached her, she reached down and slowly untied the rope around his waist. Then she leaned in closer and placed her lips to his.
Nessalin felt the rope go slack, and he looked up, searching for Gorak. What he saw shocked and horrified him. Gorak was trapped in the embrace of some sort of horse-headed creature who’s body seemed to be made out of seaweed. As Nessalin watched, the thing continued choking the life out of the barbarian. The magus called to Jack, his voice audible due to his ability to breathe water, and then he began moving as quickly as he could towards Gorak and his attacker. When he reached them, he quickly retied the rope around the barbarian, then cast a spell that imbued his scimitar with electricity. The blade sparked and hissed in the water, and when he swung it at the creature, it screamed as the steel channeled electricity into its flesh. It reached out and slammed one arm into the side of Nessalin’s head. He reeled, but managed to infuse his sword with lightning once more. He struck again, and the sea creature shrieked and darted off into the depths. To Nessalin’s dismay, however, Gorak began swimming after it. The magus hauled on the rope, but it was useless. Gorak was easily twice as strong as he, and he found himself being dragged along behind.
Back on shore, the others felt the rope go taught in a series of quick jerks.
“Grab it!” Arioch shouted. “Pull!”
He, Agnar, Zavasta and Lyrissa hauled for all they were worth, yet still they were pulled inexorably into the water. Arioch quickly opened a circle, and two water elementals came through. At his command, they seized the rope as well and pulled. With their assistance, the companions were gradually able to pull the rope in. When Gorak finally breached the surface, Arioch was stunned to see him struggling mightily with Jack and Nessalin.
“He’s bewitched!” Nessalin shouted. “Help me!”
Agnar released the rope and chanted a prayer. Power emanated from him and washed over Gorak. Immediately, the barbarian calmed.
“Let go of me!” he snarled. “What are you doing?”
“The spell is only temporary,” Agnar said. “Once it wears off, the enchantment will take hold again.”
“Gorak, listen!” Nessalin snapped. “You were under the spell of some creature. It tried to kill you out there! Now, you have to be still and cooperate. We’re going to have to tie you up for your own good until we can get you back to town. Do you understand?”
Gorak didn’t really, but he trusted Nessalin. He nodded once. He walked to shore and allowed himself to be bound and restrained.
“What about the pearl?” Arioch asked.
“We didn’t find one,” Nessalin replied.
“Speak for yourself!” Jack smiled as he held up a perfect black pearl.