Greenfield
Adventurer
This was the tale of a short side trip in our adventures. The next scheduled DM wasn't quite ready, and it was Halloween time, so this is what happened...
*******
"Excuse me,", asked the young lad in the bright red shirt, "I'm told that Vicomus Nedel is staying here?"
"I'm here.", answered Nedel, beckoning the boy over to the companions' table.
"Ah, excellent.", said the boy with a smile. "I bear a message from your father.", he explained, holding up a folded packet of parchment.
"How did he know I was here?", asked the Sorcerer.
"He didn't.", the boy laughed. "He sent messages with many of the travelers, hoping one of our troops would find you." And without waiting for a reply, or even a bit of silver, he dashed away with the abandon that only children seem to have.
Nedel opened the package and found two letters inside. "The first is from my father, wondering why I haven't returned from the Olympics. He's worried." Nedel continued to read the rest, apparently private matters. He glanced at the second note, as well, then folded them both away, to be replied to later.
"Well, I think we have to reconsider our plans to spend the winter here.", Penn said, raising an uncomfortable subject. "Our bill at the inn is paid through the end of the week, courtesy of our sponsor. After that we're on our own, and frankly speaking I can't afford to live here for that long. It's a nice city, but it's expensive. Besides, I did promise that Seeburn would be leaving town."
"Can't afford to stay?", Apellenea asked in surprise. "We just got paid, how can you be that hard off?"
"Well, we did hire a certain sage to research the book.", the Half-Satyr began. "She has to be paid. Then there's a young lady who helped us find the book. I promised her payment as well, a fair dowry. So I'm planning on working the harvest festival over the next few days, to raise some traveling money, then perhaps heading south. Or north. Maybe east."
"Okay, we get the picture. There's an angry father or boyfriend after you."
"Not yet, but I'm hoping.", the Bard laughed.
***
The harvest festival was an annual event, a time for both business and pleasure, as farmers and merchants haggled over grain prices and people helped crush grapes to make the winter wines.
Recent news had the farmers grumbling, for though their harvests had been a bit thin, they'd expected the shortage to raise prices. Instead word had arrived that a Roman emissary had secured an arrangement with Egypt, and that grain would be imported from there.
Still, the city commons were festooned with pennants and the sound of music and the aromas of good food promised fun and frolic for all.
At one end the caravan wagons of the Gypsies were pulled into a half circle, cupping an open area where girls danced on stage, jugglers played with fire, fortunes were told and curiously strong drink could be had.
Cassius decided to try and see what his future would hold, so he visited the small tent where an old woman sat behind a table, cards and rune-stones ready at hand.
"How much does it cost?", he asked, keeping his hand on his purse, for he knew the reputation of these people.
"You pay whatever you think it's worth.", the woman countered, as if money were of no importance. "I will take no gold though. Cross my palm with silver only, for the moon metal is long the friend of the Gypsy."
Cassius smiled, catching the old woman's meaning. She wasn't worried about gold, she just didn't want coppers. The silver coin rang as it bounced on the table, and he took his place.
"What would you know, the past, the present or the future?", she asked, "for all can be known."
"Tell me of my present, what's going on right now?"
She drew a handful of stones from the bowl and cast them onto the table.
"You are a man with enemies.", she began, indicating two of the stones. "Two men are angry with you, but they do not work together." She made a show of examining the remaining stones before she spoke again. "You also have friends, one of whom is not known to you, and they work to protect you.", she declared, indicating three more of the runes. "You should avoid sea travel, for on a ship there is no way to avoid these enemies." She paused and considered carefully before adding, "Avoid sea travel for the next four moons, and you will avoid this trouble."
She swept up the stones and returned them to the painted bowl, then sat up with an air of finality. The reading was finished.
Just outside the tent flap, Marcus smiled to himself. Cassius was a soldier and dressed like one. Anyone could tell he had enemies. The fact that he was still alive meant that he had friends, and nobody should travel by sea during the winter storm season. Yet the woman had carried it off well, and the southern warrior left the tent satisfied with what he had learned.
Marcus decided to enter the tent himself..
"I know that the gods give no predictions these days.", he said, tapping his own holy symbol for emphasis. "How can you see what the gods cannot?"
"I ask no gods, friend.", the woman cackled, flashing a gap-toothed grin. "The runes and the cards ask the fates, and your life was mapped in your palm long before the gods went silent. Sit, and I'll show you."
A handful of silver coins sang as they bounced on the table, and the woman smiled, leaving them where they lay. She reached for her cards, shuffling them with practiced ease.
"Cut the cards, please.", she instructed, nudging the deck towards Marcus.
He did, and she spread the lower half before him. "Those who seek to find the future must first find themselves.", she said, instructing him to draw a card.
He drew the Knave of Staves, and she swept up the rest of the cards and began to deal.
The first card she turned up was Death, but she quickly assured him that this meant change, not necessarily actual death, though she looked troubled.
Backing that card came the Moon, which made her frown. "Serious events will happen before the next full moon.", she said, still worried.
"That's tomorrow night.", Marcus pointed out.
"Yes, so you must act quickly if you are to prevail." Then she reached to the other side of the spread and turned up a card there. It was the Knave of Swords, backed by Destruction. "You have an adversary, a rival who seeks chaos and destruction. A man who is your equal in many ways."
She turned more cards. "You know him, you've met him, but the destruction he seeks is not yours."
More cards were exposed, and she continued. "You have both traveled by sea to reach this place, and he is close to you, closer than you think."
She sat back, all the cards in her pattern now turned up. "The cards don't tell me who prevails, but the conflict is nigh, and you had best move with both haste and care."
Marcus, to his surprise, found that he believed what the woman was saying.
***
Seeburn leaned against a tree, sipping his beer. He had two small casks of the brew loaded onto his mule, but he planned to make the current one last.
Not far away the lights of the festival set the evening sky aglow, but he made no move to join the festivities. The last thing he needed was to draw the ire of a magistrate.
"Friend?", asked a boy in a colorful shirt. "You are a companion of Vicomus Nedel? I saw you with him this morning."
Seeburn recognized the message runner and nodded pleasantly, but made no effort to rise.
"If you want to join the festival, you could keep your beast with ours.", the boy offered. "I'm on guard tonight, and a friend of Nedel's is a friend of ours."
"Thanks, but what I need right now is to use those bushes over there.", he explained, as he felt nature's call. He rose, drained the last dregs from his tankard, handed the mule's reins to the lad and set off.
Several minutes later he was stretching his legs, walking the perimeter of the Gypsy camp, when he saw something disturbing. A foot protruded from underneath a wagon skirt. A foot that had blood on it, and that didn't move.
He looked around, then headed back to the paddock where he had left the boy. His mule was there, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Fretting, he headed towards the stage, looking for someone to tell.
Another Gypsy boy came between the wagons, headed for those same bushes Seeburn had used earlier, and the highlander called to him.
"Here's a silver piece.", he began, which instantly got the boy's attention. "I need you to go to the stage and tell the Satyr there that he's needed here. I found a body."
"A body?", the boy asked in confusion.
"A dead body.", Seeburn emphasized. "I can't be involved, the magistrate will have my head if he even sees me."
Seeburn lead the boy to his discovery, and the lad lifted the canvas skirting to see. He paled, and fled to deliver the message as requested. Then he ran around the outside of the camp, headed for the tent at the far end.
*******
"Excuse me,", asked the young lad in the bright red shirt, "I'm told that Vicomus Nedel is staying here?"
"I'm here.", answered Nedel, beckoning the boy over to the companions' table.
"Ah, excellent.", said the boy with a smile. "I bear a message from your father.", he explained, holding up a folded packet of parchment.
"How did he know I was here?", asked the Sorcerer.
"He didn't.", the boy laughed. "He sent messages with many of the travelers, hoping one of our troops would find you." And without waiting for a reply, or even a bit of silver, he dashed away with the abandon that only children seem to have.
Nedel opened the package and found two letters inside. "The first is from my father, wondering why I haven't returned from the Olympics. He's worried." Nedel continued to read the rest, apparently private matters. He glanced at the second note, as well, then folded them both away, to be replied to later.
"Well, I think we have to reconsider our plans to spend the winter here.", Penn said, raising an uncomfortable subject. "Our bill at the inn is paid through the end of the week, courtesy of our sponsor. After that we're on our own, and frankly speaking I can't afford to live here for that long. It's a nice city, but it's expensive. Besides, I did promise that Seeburn would be leaving town."
"Can't afford to stay?", Apellenea asked in surprise. "We just got paid, how can you be that hard off?"
"Well, we did hire a certain sage to research the book.", the Half-Satyr began. "She has to be paid. Then there's a young lady who helped us find the book. I promised her payment as well, a fair dowry. So I'm planning on working the harvest festival over the next few days, to raise some traveling money, then perhaps heading south. Or north. Maybe east."
"Okay, we get the picture. There's an angry father or boyfriend after you."
"Not yet, but I'm hoping.", the Bard laughed.
***
The harvest festival was an annual event, a time for both business and pleasure, as farmers and merchants haggled over grain prices and people helped crush grapes to make the winter wines.
Recent news had the farmers grumbling, for though their harvests had been a bit thin, they'd expected the shortage to raise prices. Instead word had arrived that a Roman emissary had secured an arrangement with Egypt, and that grain would be imported from there.
Still, the city commons were festooned with pennants and the sound of music and the aromas of good food promised fun and frolic for all.
At one end the caravan wagons of the Gypsies were pulled into a half circle, cupping an open area where girls danced on stage, jugglers played with fire, fortunes were told and curiously strong drink could be had.
Cassius decided to try and see what his future would hold, so he visited the small tent where an old woman sat behind a table, cards and rune-stones ready at hand.
"How much does it cost?", he asked, keeping his hand on his purse, for he knew the reputation of these people.
"You pay whatever you think it's worth.", the woman countered, as if money were of no importance. "I will take no gold though. Cross my palm with silver only, for the moon metal is long the friend of the Gypsy."
Cassius smiled, catching the old woman's meaning. She wasn't worried about gold, she just didn't want coppers. The silver coin rang as it bounced on the table, and he took his place.
"What would you know, the past, the present or the future?", she asked, "for all can be known."
"Tell me of my present, what's going on right now?"
She drew a handful of stones from the bowl and cast them onto the table.
"You are a man with enemies.", she began, indicating two of the stones. "Two men are angry with you, but they do not work together." She made a show of examining the remaining stones before she spoke again. "You also have friends, one of whom is not known to you, and they work to protect you.", she declared, indicating three more of the runes. "You should avoid sea travel, for on a ship there is no way to avoid these enemies." She paused and considered carefully before adding, "Avoid sea travel for the next four moons, and you will avoid this trouble."
She swept up the stones and returned them to the painted bowl, then sat up with an air of finality. The reading was finished.
Just outside the tent flap, Marcus smiled to himself. Cassius was a soldier and dressed like one. Anyone could tell he had enemies. The fact that he was still alive meant that he had friends, and nobody should travel by sea during the winter storm season. Yet the woman had carried it off well, and the southern warrior left the tent satisfied with what he had learned.
Marcus decided to enter the tent himself..
"I know that the gods give no predictions these days.", he said, tapping his own holy symbol for emphasis. "How can you see what the gods cannot?"
"I ask no gods, friend.", the woman cackled, flashing a gap-toothed grin. "The runes and the cards ask the fates, and your life was mapped in your palm long before the gods went silent. Sit, and I'll show you."
A handful of silver coins sang as they bounced on the table, and the woman smiled, leaving them where they lay. She reached for her cards, shuffling them with practiced ease.
"Cut the cards, please.", she instructed, nudging the deck towards Marcus.
He did, and she spread the lower half before him. "Those who seek to find the future must first find themselves.", she said, instructing him to draw a card.
He drew the Knave of Staves, and she swept up the rest of the cards and began to deal.
The first card she turned up was Death, but she quickly assured him that this meant change, not necessarily actual death, though she looked troubled.
Backing that card came the Moon, which made her frown. "Serious events will happen before the next full moon.", she said, still worried.
"That's tomorrow night.", Marcus pointed out.
"Yes, so you must act quickly if you are to prevail." Then she reached to the other side of the spread and turned up a card there. It was the Knave of Swords, backed by Destruction. "You have an adversary, a rival who seeks chaos and destruction. A man who is your equal in many ways."
She turned more cards. "You know him, you've met him, but the destruction he seeks is not yours."
More cards were exposed, and she continued. "You have both traveled by sea to reach this place, and he is close to you, closer than you think."
She sat back, all the cards in her pattern now turned up. "The cards don't tell me who prevails, but the conflict is nigh, and you had best move with both haste and care."
Marcus, to his surprise, found that he believed what the woman was saying.
***
Seeburn leaned against a tree, sipping his beer. He had two small casks of the brew loaded onto his mule, but he planned to make the current one last.
Not far away the lights of the festival set the evening sky aglow, but he made no move to join the festivities. The last thing he needed was to draw the ire of a magistrate.
"Friend?", asked a boy in a colorful shirt. "You are a companion of Vicomus Nedel? I saw you with him this morning."
Seeburn recognized the message runner and nodded pleasantly, but made no effort to rise.
"If you want to join the festival, you could keep your beast with ours.", the boy offered. "I'm on guard tonight, and a friend of Nedel's is a friend of ours."
"Thanks, but what I need right now is to use those bushes over there.", he explained, as he felt nature's call. He rose, drained the last dregs from his tankard, handed the mule's reins to the lad and set off.
Several minutes later he was stretching his legs, walking the perimeter of the Gypsy camp, when he saw something disturbing. A foot protruded from underneath a wagon skirt. A foot that had blood on it, and that didn't move.
He looked around, then headed back to the paddock where he had left the boy. His mule was there, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Fretting, he headed towards the stage, looking for someone to tell.
Another Gypsy boy came between the wagons, headed for those same bushes Seeburn had used earlier, and the highlander called to him.
"Here's a silver piece.", he began, which instantly got the boy's attention. "I need you to go to the stage and tell the Satyr there that he's needed here. I found a body."
"A body?", the boy asked in confusion.
"A dead body.", Seeburn emphasized. "I can't be involved, the magistrate will have my head if he even sees me."
Seeburn lead the boy to his discovery, and the lad lifted the canvas skirting to see. He paled, and fled to deliver the message as requested. Then he ran around the outside of the camp, headed for the tent at the far end.
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