Greenfield
Adventurer
This next adventure was run by yet another DM. The style may seem similar, but that's largely because the tale is being related by the same writer.
We are, however, back in time-synch, meaning about 500 a.d as opposed to the 1500 a.d. of the Florentine Affair story.
*******
There's an odd and empty smell to the pre-dawn hours. Somehow it carries the damp autumn chill within it, penetrating deeper than even a wintry blast.
The Florentine commons were still littered with the remains of the Festivale de Luna, including a few of the citizens who had simply found a place to curl up and sleep off the wine instead of going home. Tomorrow things would be cleaned up, the tents and pavilions struck and folded away until the next excuse for public excess.
The Gypsy camp was the exception, the quiet bustle as they packed the last few things. The animals had been fed and brushed down in preparation for the early departure, and their tents had been folded away within an hour of the festival's closing. They had an order to be gone before sunrise, and they'd had more than a little practice at departing by the dark of night.
Across the quiet stillness of the city commons there came a man in a shimmering white cloak that seemed almost to glow. His hood was drawn against the night's chill, and his stride was smooth and unhurried.
"I seek Comus Nedel and Marcus the Jovian.", he asked of the first person he encountered. The Gypsy grunted, gesturing towards the far side of the camp, then resumed his work.
The companions, also under orders to vacate, were slower to rise than their Gypsy counterparts, but then they had less to ready for the road. They were just finishing the last of their cold porridge when the traveler approached.
"Marcus the Jovian?", the man asked. "Comus Nedel?"
"Here.", called Marcus, waving the man over. "We've little to offer, friend, but what we have is yours."
The man neither bent nor sat in response to the invitation. Instead he drew out a sealed scroll. "Marcus, Priest of Jupiter, you are summoned to appear before the Senate in Rome. Nedel, Nic Comus of Transyl, your presence is also required. The summons is somewhat urgent, so please gather your company as quickly as possible.
"We'll be ready within the hour.", Nedel assured the man. "We may need to track down our Bard, and I'm not sure where Euphemia went, but..."
The man waved the Sorcerer to silence. "Your entourage is of course welcome, but you and the good Cleric are the only ones named. Still I am prepared. I'll have the horses here in an hour."
***
"So who's bed did you find him in?", Seeburn asked, half in jest, as they half dragged Penn into the camp.
"My own.", replied the Bard, still tugging his tunic into place. "Though I wasn't alone. You folk decided to sleep here, but my room at the Inn was paid for, and so much more inviting."
"And how much did that invitation cost you?", the Barbarian persisted in his joke.
Penn managed to look insulted. "I have never had to pay someone to share my bed.", he said stiffly. Then he broke down and laughed. "The lass and I shared a bottle of good wine, a few songs, a few jests, and a few hours of company. And as long as her husband doesn't find out, we'll share some good memories as well. So, all costs included, my last few Dinar, but well worth it."
Their guide appeared with a wagon for their gear and a string of horses.
He was taken somewhat aback when Euphemia approached him. "How am I supposed to climb that thing, with a ladder?"
"I'm sorry, young lady. I didn't know you were with them. You can ride in the wagon if you like.
The Halfling was about to unleash her sharp tongue on him once more, but halted, peering up at the face his white hood concealed from the taller folk.
"No problem, friend.", she said, displaying uncharacteristic good manners. "I'll toss my pack in back and ride with you. I'll drive the team, if you like."
"Thank you, it would help.", the man replied.
"Wha...?", came the half question from the others, but she waved them off.
"He's blind.", she whispered. "His eyes are bandaged, the wrappings marked with the Imperial seal."
The group pondered the significance of this as they packed and saddled up.
***
The route they took was an obscure one, using neither the river nor the more direct south road, but instead winding into the mountains before turning south. And though this path took them a day or two longer than the straight road would, none questioned it.
"Think of it this way.", Penn joked. "It's not as if you're in any hurry to stand before Senator Denius again."
Marcus agreed. He'd been avoiding his home city since Athens, knowing that he had made a powerful enemy in the Senator. None of their company would be safe from his wrath.
***
The city of Rome had seen better days. Repairs on the city walls were evident, and many of the building still showed scorch marks, reminders of the Vandal siege of the previous year.
Smoke stains were evident, and some of the homes were still in ruins. A different sort of pall seemed to lay over the people, as they eyed the strangers, and even each other, with a tinge of fear and suspicion.
Their guide escorted them to an inn in a poorer section of the city, far from the white marble avenues of the Senate, or the grand promenade to the Colluseum.
The inn was somewhat run down, and the furniture in the common room showed signs of frequent breakage and less frequent repair.
"Reminds me of home.", Cassius said, brushing a few rat droppings from the corner before taking a seat.
"You left home, didn't you?", asked Sylus.
"Exactly!", the dark warrior responded, happy someone got his point. Still, it warmed his heart to see the city of his ancient enemies laid so low. His only regret was that some of it was still standing.
The Innkeeper stayed behind his counter, fear of the armed companions evident on his face.
"Friend, a pitcher of your finest for my friends and I.", Penn called. "Or a bowl of good punch if it suits you."
"I thought you were broke.", Euphemia whispered quietly.
"My purse is a bit light.", the Half Satyr admitted. "But the Senate is paying for our stay, and I wouldn't insult them by allowing them to be poor hosts."
The Innkeeper brought a pitcher and some cups, but then retreated once more to the relative safety of his counter.
Penn tasted the wine and made a face. "I wouldn't inflict this on a scrawny roast.", he said. "Sour and thin, Vin Ordinair ." at best. Good host, wine is supposed to have a bouquet, not an odor. It's supposed to caress the pallet, not clutch at the throat."
"I'm sorry, traveler.", the man replied. "It's all I have right now. We haven't had a good pressing since the Vandals, and..."
"Say no more, friend, I understand. We'll make do until we can do better."
A few words sung in praise to the lord of the Vines, and the problem was corrected, at least for the pitcher’s worth at hand.
***
"Set watches? In town?", came the question.
"Everyone in this city is afraid of something.", Sylus observed. "They weren't just afraid of us, they were afraid of everything. I figure they know something we don't."
"Good point.", agreed Marcus. "And if Denius knows how to find us, then so does trouble."
So it was agreed: "When in Rome, do as the Romans do
We are, however, back in time-synch, meaning about 500 a.d as opposed to the 1500 a.d. of the Florentine Affair story.
*******
There's an odd and empty smell to the pre-dawn hours. Somehow it carries the damp autumn chill within it, penetrating deeper than even a wintry blast.
The Florentine commons were still littered with the remains of the Festivale de Luna, including a few of the citizens who had simply found a place to curl up and sleep off the wine instead of going home. Tomorrow things would be cleaned up, the tents and pavilions struck and folded away until the next excuse for public excess.
The Gypsy camp was the exception, the quiet bustle as they packed the last few things. The animals had been fed and brushed down in preparation for the early departure, and their tents had been folded away within an hour of the festival's closing. They had an order to be gone before sunrise, and they'd had more than a little practice at departing by the dark of night.
Across the quiet stillness of the city commons there came a man in a shimmering white cloak that seemed almost to glow. His hood was drawn against the night's chill, and his stride was smooth and unhurried.
"I seek Comus Nedel and Marcus the Jovian.", he asked of the first person he encountered. The Gypsy grunted, gesturing towards the far side of the camp, then resumed his work.
The companions, also under orders to vacate, were slower to rise than their Gypsy counterparts, but then they had less to ready for the road. They were just finishing the last of their cold porridge when the traveler approached.
"Marcus the Jovian?", the man asked. "Comus Nedel?"
"Here.", called Marcus, waving the man over. "We've little to offer, friend, but what we have is yours."
The man neither bent nor sat in response to the invitation. Instead he drew out a sealed scroll. "Marcus, Priest of Jupiter, you are summoned to appear before the Senate in Rome. Nedel, Nic Comus of Transyl, your presence is also required. The summons is somewhat urgent, so please gather your company as quickly as possible.
"We'll be ready within the hour.", Nedel assured the man. "We may need to track down our Bard, and I'm not sure where Euphemia went, but..."
The man waved the Sorcerer to silence. "Your entourage is of course welcome, but you and the good Cleric are the only ones named. Still I am prepared. I'll have the horses here in an hour."
***
"So who's bed did you find him in?", Seeburn asked, half in jest, as they half dragged Penn into the camp.
"My own.", replied the Bard, still tugging his tunic into place. "Though I wasn't alone. You folk decided to sleep here, but my room at the Inn was paid for, and so much more inviting."
"And how much did that invitation cost you?", the Barbarian persisted in his joke.
Penn managed to look insulted. "I have never had to pay someone to share my bed.", he said stiffly. Then he broke down and laughed. "The lass and I shared a bottle of good wine, a few songs, a few jests, and a few hours of company. And as long as her husband doesn't find out, we'll share some good memories as well. So, all costs included, my last few Dinar, but well worth it."
Their guide appeared with a wagon for their gear and a string of horses.
He was taken somewhat aback when Euphemia approached him. "How am I supposed to climb that thing, with a ladder?"
"I'm sorry, young lady. I didn't know you were with them. You can ride in the wagon if you like.
The Halfling was about to unleash her sharp tongue on him once more, but halted, peering up at the face his white hood concealed from the taller folk.
"No problem, friend.", she said, displaying uncharacteristic good manners. "I'll toss my pack in back and ride with you. I'll drive the team, if you like."
"Thank you, it would help.", the man replied.
"Wha...?", came the half question from the others, but she waved them off.
"He's blind.", she whispered. "His eyes are bandaged, the wrappings marked with the Imperial seal."
The group pondered the significance of this as they packed and saddled up.
***
The route they took was an obscure one, using neither the river nor the more direct south road, but instead winding into the mountains before turning south. And though this path took them a day or two longer than the straight road would, none questioned it.
"Think of it this way.", Penn joked. "It's not as if you're in any hurry to stand before Senator Denius again."
Marcus agreed. He'd been avoiding his home city since Athens, knowing that he had made a powerful enemy in the Senator. None of their company would be safe from his wrath.
***
The city of Rome had seen better days. Repairs on the city walls were evident, and many of the building still showed scorch marks, reminders of the Vandal siege of the previous year.
Smoke stains were evident, and some of the homes were still in ruins. A different sort of pall seemed to lay over the people, as they eyed the strangers, and even each other, with a tinge of fear and suspicion.
Their guide escorted them to an inn in a poorer section of the city, far from the white marble avenues of the Senate, or the grand promenade to the Colluseum.
The inn was somewhat run down, and the furniture in the common room showed signs of frequent breakage and less frequent repair.
"Reminds me of home.", Cassius said, brushing a few rat droppings from the corner before taking a seat.
"You left home, didn't you?", asked Sylus.
"Exactly!", the dark warrior responded, happy someone got his point. Still, it warmed his heart to see the city of his ancient enemies laid so low. His only regret was that some of it was still standing.
The Innkeeper stayed behind his counter, fear of the armed companions evident on his face.
"Friend, a pitcher of your finest for my friends and I.", Penn called. "Or a bowl of good punch if it suits you."
"I thought you were broke.", Euphemia whispered quietly.
"My purse is a bit light.", the Half Satyr admitted. "But the Senate is paying for our stay, and I wouldn't insult them by allowing them to be poor hosts."
The Innkeeper brought a pitcher and some cups, but then retreated once more to the relative safety of his counter.
Penn tasted the wine and made a face. "I wouldn't inflict this on a scrawny roast.", he said. "Sour and thin, Vin Ordinair ." at best. Good host, wine is supposed to have a bouquet, not an odor. It's supposed to caress the pallet, not clutch at the throat."
"I'm sorry, traveler.", the man replied. "It's all I have right now. We haven't had a good pressing since the Vandals, and..."
"Say no more, friend, I understand. We'll make do until we can do better."
A few words sung in praise to the lord of the Vines, and the problem was corrected, at least for the pitcher’s worth at hand.
***
"Set watches? In town?", came the question.
"Everyone in this city is afraid of something.", Sylus observed. "They weren't just afraid of us, they were afraid of everything. I figure they know something we don't."
"Good point.", agreed Marcus. "And if Denius knows how to find us, then so does trouble."
So it was agreed: "When in Rome, do as the Romans do
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