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Adventures in Eberron> Chapter 32 posted 08-08-05>
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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2436176" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>An Ambush at the Long Night, Chapter 23</strong></p><p></p><p>Pook and Ivor toiled hour after hour within the crowded common room. The Long Night's Rest is full for the first time in decades. A odd crowd of men arrived with the fifth bell and attached themselves to the bar. The changelings managed to be at just the right place when the cook was looking for extra help. They are playing the part of sisters, farm girls from Wroat. The patrons can't get enough of their company. Despite their bright eyes and sultry lips, they are not happy. These men are scary. They are dressed like natives, but they talk and grope like soldiers. Pook overheard them talking, they are looking for a blond half-elf with a harp carved like a bow. They say that they already have his bodyguard. It took a lot to pretend that everything was alright, her smile never wavered.</p><p></p><p> “Eva quit flirting and get them dishes!” Pook snapped, playing the shrew.</p><p></p><p> “Coming!” Ivor replied while sucking her teeth and rolling her eyes. Her new friend copped a feel as she hurried away.</p><p></p><p> The girls disappeared into the kitchen. The cook tossed another tray of food at them and sent them right back out. Ivor had just enough time to tell Pook about the wizard with the wandering hands. It is really the last thing they need. Wizards don't travel with soldiers unless they are marching under Breland's flag. Watch Mages have to wear badges, civilian wizards wear robes and act like they are important. Ivor put on her best smile and delivered a steaming bowl of soup to her new friend. Pook made her rounds through the tables refilling tankards and clearing away dishes. She doesn't know how they are doing it, but she is pretty sure none of them are as drunk as they pretend to be.</p><p></p><p> The cook rang the bell again. Pook hurried to the kitchen. Moments later the cook hollered for Eve to pick up her orders too. The wizard, a dashing young man with an eye for the ladies slipped a silver piece into her bust just so she would hurry back. It is a miracle she hasn't cut him yet.</p><p></p><p> “Hey what's with the crowd?” Theodyl asked as he strolled in to the common room. The men stood up virtually as one. The bard did not hesitate to start running.</p><p></p><p> As the men scrambled to give chase, the wizard knocked over his own table. A pair of soft female hands dragged him into the kitchen. Eve tickled his chin with a stiletto and slipped his silver coin into his mouth before they gagged him. The real Theodyl bonded his hands with copper wire. The cook is snoring softly in the linen closet. The soldiers will have a good time sparring with Javelin. The bard disguised him with an illusion. The war-forged martial artist promised not to break any of them. Theodyl is just glad Javelin didn't knock him out before he could explain everything.</p><p></p><p> As soon as the wizard was blindfolded, the three of them carried their captive to the basement. From there they made their way to the sewers and to a conveniently hidden door. Argus and Pennelocles are gathering more of Paragon's friends. By then they should have all the information they need.</p><p></p><p> “Listen well,” Theodyl whispered into the wizard's ear, “I am missing a friend, will you tell me where he is?” The man shook his head violently. Theodyl whacked his left hand with a wooden mallet. “How's about now?” The man shook even more violently, though it was still a no. “If you don't reconsider, I will break your hands and boil them in oil. After that, I will cut out your tongue and heal the wound so that it can never be restored. I learned how to deal with wizards during the war. Think about it.”</p><p></p><p> Pook interrupted Theodyl just then, she pulled him away and made enough noise to convince the wizard they were arguing. Ivor put the man's lights out with a sap as soon as it was obvious that he was trying to listen in. An eternity later, a splash of water brought the man back to consciousness. Eve, looking like she's taken a beating, ripped off his blindfold and attempted to free the wizard while blubbering incoherently.</p><p></p><p> “He's gone mad!” she cried as she struggled to undo the mass of knots holding the wizard. “He thinks that you are trying to kill him!” The wizard started to struggle in earnest. Eve made sure to press her chest into his face as she undid his gag from the front. She then started to undo the wire binding his broken hand. His eyes rested warmly over her, the rose scented oil is having it's effect.</p><p></p><p> “Ish okay,” he said to her, “Iesh goths frendth ath hosh kanidth.” The silver coin had an extra coating of some concoction from the cooks kitchen. They saw the cook using it to soothe his rotten teeth. The man's tongue is numbed. “helpsh me iesh helpsh!”</p><p></p><p> “Where can we go? He is dangerous!” She started to cry. The man's eyes softened. He wiped her tears and used his shirt to clean her face. He told her everything.</p><p></p><p> Ivor led her new friend up to the streets and then promptly lost him in the teeming crowds. Theodyl and Pook met her in an alleyway. They dodged three different watch patrols on the way back to the inn. Theodyl ended up taking the girls through his secret tunnels. All hell is breaking loose, he can find other secrets to keep. The changelings were very impressed, they never found any secret doors while rummaging though his things. The bard decided to mage lock his next living space.</p><p></p><p> Javelin led the men on a merry chase. Only the hardiest of them managed to catch up. By then the illusion Theodyl had cast had worn off. The men came at him like war-forged. They fought hard, like veterans. Javelin was bleeding from several deep wounds by the time he made his escape. He kept one of their blades, it bears the Royal Shield of Breland. He was fighting Elite Hussars. Paragon and his friend are in lots of trouble.</p><p></p><p> An expeditious messenger caught up with Theodyl as he crossed one of the markets in the lower levels. It looked like a cross between an eagle and a cat. Pook and Ivor nearly stabbed the poor creature before Theodyl recognized Loffiir's sigil on the scroll it carried. The draconic script vanished as soon as his eyes read it.</p><p></p><p><em>“Young one, thy request pleases the Elders. Thou shalt meet tomorrow at noon within the Sharn Trade House, Room 6. Please, keep a civil tongue, and be on time.”</em></p><p></p><p> “Please extend my gratitude to thine master.” Theodyl addressed the creature.</p><p></p><p> The rest of the trip came without interruptions. They found Patter and Siff in a low level flat tending to one another. It never occurred to Theodyl that the two were so domestic. The small shrine to the Traveler was less of a surprise. As they moved they argued about how to rescue Paragon and even if he needed rescuing at all. When they reached the warehouse that served as the meeting hall for Paragon's club, there was more trouble. At least one hundred angry war-forged were strapping up for war.</p><p></p><p> “We need to have a good talk before you say anything.” Pyrus waved Theodyl down. “The lads are ready to burn down the city, Paragon has quite a following.”</p><p></p><p> “That is not a good idea.” Theodyl said, feeling a chill down his spine.</p><p></p><p> “No it isn't,” Javelin cut in as he jogged in holding a sword in his hand, “The Hussars are hunting you.”</p><p></p><p> “Hag spit,” Theodyl cursed. “I didn't get out fast enough.”</p><p></p><p> The warehouse full of warriors waited patiently while Theodyl, Javelin, and Pyrus sat and discussed their options. An army of angry war-forged is just the thing to scare the hell out of the city. It can't happen, there are enough problems with war-forged in general. The jump from Elite Soldiers to Civilians was troublesome from the start. Two out of ten don't make it. Some join the first military organization they can find, others just kill any fool that gets in their way. The worse ones seem to lead perfectly normal lives until they crack. No, the lads will have to find another way.</p><p></p><p> “Paragon is being held in a Cannith property just below the High Quarter. The man we interviewed was to deliver me to a man named Caras.” Theodyl told his friends. “It was a depot during the war. I must have walked past the place hundreds of times in the last few years. There is a tavern called Lucy's Basement right next to it.”</p><p></p><p> “I know Lucy's. I've met with clients at their booths.” Pyrus stated. “It is run by House Cannith. The barkeep is an unmarked cousin, but very loyal.”</p><p></p><p> “I will take some of the scouts to examine the property.” Javelin volunteered. “Be ready for when I return.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2436176, member: 17151"] [b]An Ambush at the Long Night, Chapter 23[/b] Pook and Ivor toiled hour after hour within the crowded common room. The Long Night's Rest is full for the first time in decades. A odd crowd of men arrived with the fifth bell and attached themselves to the bar. The changelings managed to be at just the right place when the cook was looking for extra help. They are playing the part of sisters, farm girls from Wroat. The patrons can't get enough of their company. Despite their bright eyes and sultry lips, they are not happy. These men are scary. They are dressed like natives, but they talk and grope like soldiers. Pook overheard them talking, they are looking for a blond half-elf with a harp carved like a bow. They say that they already have his bodyguard. It took a lot to pretend that everything was alright, her smile never wavered. “Eva quit flirting and get them dishes!” Pook snapped, playing the shrew. “Coming!” Ivor replied while sucking her teeth and rolling her eyes. Her new friend copped a feel as she hurried away. The girls disappeared into the kitchen. The cook tossed another tray of food at them and sent them right back out. Ivor had just enough time to tell Pook about the wizard with the wandering hands. It is really the last thing they need. Wizards don't travel with soldiers unless they are marching under Breland's flag. Watch Mages have to wear badges, civilian wizards wear robes and act like they are important. Ivor put on her best smile and delivered a steaming bowl of soup to her new friend. Pook made her rounds through the tables refilling tankards and clearing away dishes. She doesn't know how they are doing it, but she is pretty sure none of them are as drunk as they pretend to be. The cook rang the bell again. Pook hurried to the kitchen. Moments later the cook hollered for Eve to pick up her orders too. The wizard, a dashing young man with an eye for the ladies slipped a silver piece into her bust just so she would hurry back. It is a miracle she hasn't cut him yet. “Hey what's with the crowd?” Theodyl asked as he strolled in to the common room. The men stood up virtually as one. The bard did not hesitate to start running. As the men scrambled to give chase, the wizard knocked over his own table. A pair of soft female hands dragged him into the kitchen. Eve tickled his chin with a stiletto and slipped his silver coin into his mouth before they gagged him. The real Theodyl bonded his hands with copper wire. The cook is snoring softly in the linen closet. The soldiers will have a good time sparring with Javelin. The bard disguised him with an illusion. The war-forged martial artist promised not to break any of them. Theodyl is just glad Javelin didn't knock him out before he could explain everything. As soon as the wizard was blindfolded, the three of them carried their captive to the basement. From there they made their way to the sewers and to a conveniently hidden door. Argus and Pennelocles are gathering more of Paragon's friends. By then they should have all the information they need. “Listen well,” Theodyl whispered into the wizard's ear, “I am missing a friend, will you tell me where he is?” The man shook his head violently. Theodyl whacked his left hand with a wooden mallet. “How's about now?” The man shook even more violently, though it was still a no. “If you don't reconsider, I will break your hands and boil them in oil. After that, I will cut out your tongue and heal the wound so that it can never be restored. I learned how to deal with wizards during the war. Think about it.” Pook interrupted Theodyl just then, she pulled him away and made enough noise to convince the wizard they were arguing. Ivor put the man's lights out with a sap as soon as it was obvious that he was trying to listen in. An eternity later, a splash of water brought the man back to consciousness. Eve, looking like she's taken a beating, ripped off his blindfold and attempted to free the wizard while blubbering incoherently. “He's gone mad!” she cried as she struggled to undo the mass of knots holding the wizard. “He thinks that you are trying to kill him!” The wizard started to struggle in earnest. Eve made sure to press her chest into his face as she undid his gag from the front. She then started to undo the wire binding his broken hand. His eyes rested warmly over her, the rose scented oil is having it's effect. “Ish okay,” he said to her, “Iesh goths frendth ath hosh kanidth.” The silver coin had an extra coating of some concoction from the cooks kitchen. They saw the cook using it to soothe his rotten teeth. The man's tongue is numbed. “helpsh me iesh helpsh!” “Where can we go? He is dangerous!” She started to cry. The man's eyes softened. He wiped her tears and used his shirt to clean her face. He told her everything. Ivor led her new friend up to the streets and then promptly lost him in the teeming crowds. Theodyl and Pook met her in an alleyway. They dodged three different watch patrols on the way back to the inn. Theodyl ended up taking the girls through his secret tunnels. All hell is breaking loose, he can find other secrets to keep. The changelings were very impressed, they never found any secret doors while rummaging though his things. The bard decided to mage lock his next living space. Javelin led the men on a merry chase. Only the hardiest of them managed to catch up. By then the illusion Theodyl had cast had worn off. The men came at him like war-forged. They fought hard, like veterans. Javelin was bleeding from several deep wounds by the time he made his escape. He kept one of their blades, it bears the Royal Shield of Breland. He was fighting Elite Hussars. Paragon and his friend are in lots of trouble. An expeditious messenger caught up with Theodyl as he crossed one of the markets in the lower levels. It looked like a cross between an eagle and a cat. Pook and Ivor nearly stabbed the poor creature before Theodyl recognized Loffiir's sigil on the scroll it carried. The draconic script vanished as soon as his eyes read it. [I]“Young one, thy request pleases the Elders. Thou shalt meet tomorrow at noon within the Sharn Trade House, Room 6. Please, keep a civil tongue, and be on time.”[/I] “Please extend my gratitude to thine master.” Theodyl addressed the creature. The rest of the trip came without interruptions. They found Patter and Siff in a low level flat tending to one another. It never occurred to Theodyl that the two were so domestic. The small shrine to the Traveler was less of a surprise. As they moved they argued about how to rescue Paragon and even if he needed rescuing at all. When they reached the warehouse that served as the meeting hall for Paragon's club, there was more trouble. At least one hundred angry war-forged were strapping up for war. “We need to have a good talk before you say anything.” Pyrus waved Theodyl down. “The lads are ready to burn down the city, Paragon has quite a following.” “That is not a good idea.” Theodyl said, feeling a chill down his spine. “No it isn't,” Javelin cut in as he jogged in holding a sword in his hand, “The Hussars are hunting you.” “Hag spit,” Theodyl cursed. “I didn't get out fast enough.” The warehouse full of warriors waited patiently while Theodyl, Javelin, and Pyrus sat and discussed their options. An army of angry war-forged is just the thing to scare the hell out of the city. It can't happen, there are enough problems with war-forged in general. The jump from Elite Soldiers to Civilians was troublesome from the start. Two out of ten don't make it. Some join the first military organization they can find, others just kill any fool that gets in their way. The worse ones seem to lead perfectly normal lives until they crack. No, the lads will have to find another way. “Paragon is being held in a Cannith property just below the High Quarter. The man we interviewed was to deliver me to a man named Caras.” Theodyl told his friends. “It was a depot during the war. I must have walked past the place hundreds of times in the last few years. There is a tavern called Lucy's Basement right next to it.” “I know Lucy's. I've met with clients at their booths.” Pyrus stated. “It is run by House Cannith. The barkeep is an unmarked cousin, but very loyal.” “I will take some of the scouts to examine the property.” Javelin volunteered. “Be ready for when I return.” [/QUOTE]
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