drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour

[drnuncheon]

Session Six Teaser

Well, we didn't play on Friday - Di'Fier's player had a date. But we made up for it Saturday, with an 8 hour megasession split into two parts: first, the annual Wizard's Guild dinner, and second, a funeral for fallen Guardsmen.

Anyway, look for a post (or more probably two) sometime during the week. Hear Di'Fier tell his partner, "Remember, we can't just ask everyone if they're the necromancer." See Dru ask, "So, how is papa doing?" at the Guild banquet. And lest you think it's all fine food and talking, our heros prove that you don't need to be a cleric to kick undead butt.

Next week, our heros try to track down some stolen documents, investigate an extremely bloody murder, and meet Brother Egil again, who wants them to look into something for him...

It'll be a mystery-solving, butt-kicking extravaganza! Don't miss it!

J, not saying which butts will be kicked

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Six, Part One: Lunch with the Guards

(I'm going to do a bit of experimentation with the story format this time, to see how it works out. Let me know what you think!)

Captain Donnach of the Freeport City Watch sat in his chair, staring miserably at the stack of papers in front of him. There was a time, he thought, when the only thing I had to worry about was finding a warm, safe spot out of the wind. He picked up the paper on top and grimaced - the healer's report on the injured guardsmen. 3 down for at least a week, he sighed inwardly. One dead and one not expected to last the night. Add that to Tas, and Kiva...

The door swung open and a pair of figures limped in: bruised and battered. Without waiting for permission, they collapsed into the chairs in front of his desks. Donnach didn't even need to look up to know that this was not going to be something he wanted to hear. "Dru. Di'Fier." He leveled a glance at them. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Dru leaned back in her chair as Di'Fier took the lead. The captain let the explanation wash over him all but unheard as he studied the pair. I used to be like that, he thought. Charging off to do my own 'investigations', getting into far more trouble than I could handle... Something the young man said brought him out of his reverie. "What's that? Did you say zombies? Where?" He pulled the map of the island from his side table and dropped it on top of the paperwork he was avoiding.

Di'Fier studied it for a moment, then put his finger down. "About here," he said, and Donnach made another mark. "Why? What's going on?"

That's right, they've been suspended for a week, Donnach thought. Clearing his throat, the captain pulled the map away and tapped the pile of papers. "We've been having a lot of problems with the undead lately. Zombies and skeletons just wandering into the town, as if they're looking for something...and attacking whoever they see. A nest of ghouls somewhere near the graveyard as well." The captain watched the two of them exchange glances. So help me gods, if I find out they had anything to do with this... He could feel the throbbing in his temple that signaled the onset of another headache. There was something else they wanted...oh yes, medical leave. He studied the pair with a jaundiced eye. They look like hell, he thought. Worse than usual. "All right. Get your badges. You're back on duty after the funeral service in two days. And send Hogni in with that willowbark tea of his." Donnach rubbed at his forehead. It was going to be a very long week. He didn't even hear them stumble out the door.

"Migraines again, Captain?" Hogni said, holding a steaming mug in his knobby hand. "How come you always get them after Dru and Di'Fier show up to talk to you?"


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Two days later, Dru and Di'Fier sat in the common room of the Brass Orchid, enjoying their breakfast - and their last day of medical leave. Dru toyed with her fork, enjoying the fact that she could once again spin it across her fingers without dropping it - the priest's miracle had removed all trace of the imp's venom. Di'Fier reached for his mug with ink-stained fingers - he must have been scribing scrolls again.

"So Kiva comes up to the room with breakfast, and looks at me horrified, and says, 'The innkeeper winked at me!'" Dru finished. "Anyway, he's looking for a new place."

"I don't blame him," her partner said. "Not after what happened." He paused to finish the last bite of his steak and eggs, and then spoke up again. "The Wizard's Guild dinner is this afternoon, and then the funeral afterwards."

"At least I won't have to change," Dru muttered, already not relishing the idea of spending an afternoon with the Wizard's Guild of Freeport. Maybe someone will attack us and we'll be too busy to go, the thought wistfully. "I think we should go look for that greaseball pimp."

"Tovin? The one who was beating that girl?"

"Yeah."

Di'Fier shrugged, dropped a few coins on the table, and the pair set off to find trouble. Their fruitless search led them all through the Dock Quarter and up to the gates to the Old City - site of the Rusty Lantern, where they stopped in for a drink.

The Rusty Lantern was a guardsman's bar - every city has one, usually in a small, out of the way street where there isn't a lot of trouble. Run by a retired guardsman, the Lantern was one of the few places a guard could go to relax and not be expected to break up a fight or arrest a miscreant every few minutes.

A loud voice called out as they entered, "Hey, they're alive!" The massive arm of Sergeant Hallfred gripped Di'Fier on the shoulder, and the young guardsman could feel his bones grind together under the massive grip.

"Yeah, which of you lost money on that?" asked Dru dryly. 3 or 4 tentative hands raised, to much laughter among the more experienced guardsmen. A few moments later and it was business as usual, with Dru and Di'Fier sitting at a table and telling the rest of them what they'd been up to in the last week.

"I'll tell you, it's like the city's gone mad," said Antone, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know what I caught someone stealing the other day? Vanilla beans! I guess there's some kind of shortage or something."

"And then there's all of these undead problems," Di'Fier agreed. Looking at his partner, he mused aloud: "I wonder if there's some connection with that temple we found? There were those skeletons there..."

"That temple?" Hallfred asked. "Hah. You know who got the job of cleaning it out? Verlaine's Guards." He said the word like it tasted of offal. Verlaine's Guard were more despised by the Watch than any other group in the city. Loyal only to Councillor Verlaine, a threat to the Watch's job security, and thanks to Verlaine's connections, able to get the assignments that the City Watch could only dream of.

Dru stared into her drink for a moment, then changed the subject. "Any of you guys know an organization that uses a rose as its calling card?"

A general murmur went around the table, but nothing more. "Why do you want to know?" came Jaffar's hoarse whisper. The man couldn't do much more than whisper - he learned his lesson about the Freeport Noose the hard way.

"Someone got into my room," Dru said softly, "And decided to leave me a sign while he was there. And on the corpse of the guy that tried to kill me."

"Sounds like a real Romeo," Jaffar chuckled. "I see he knows the way to your heart is through a pile of bodies."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Let me know what you think of the story format! It'll definitely slow things down, so unless people are just wild about it I might go back to the old way - or maybe I'll save story posts for times when there's a huge amount of interaction, like the Guild Dinner in the next part. Feedback is always appreciated.

There's two more posts coming for this session, and sometime this week I need to write another review or two...anyway I hope to be caught up by the time we play on Friday.

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Six, Part Two: Dinner with the Wizards

The standard equipment issued to members of the Freeport City Watch includes:

• Armor, Leather (1)
• Sword, Short (1)
• Truncheon (1)
• Lantern, Oil, Shuttered (1)
• Medallion, Freeport City Watch (1)
• Chain, Medallion (1)
• Uniform, Dress, Wool (1)

Dru

Dru tugged at the high collar of her City Watch dress uniform and grimaced. The wool was scratchy and too hot, it bound in all the wrong places, and she had to wear the gods-damned Noose with it. All because Di'Fier had gone and dragged her to this Wizard's Guild dinner. Bunch of addle-headed academics swapping potion recipes, no doubt. And it's not even at the right time for dinner, she thought sourly. Even for people on a normal schedule.

The little gnome leading their group to the reception area pushed the doors open with a grunt of effort, and bellowed out: "Maga Eleanor and husband, Watch-Sergeant Di'Fier and guest!"

...and I don't even rate an introduction since I'm not a mage. It's going to be a long day.

The other guests were clustered in their tiny knots of conversation around the hall - some took notice of the newcomers, others did not. A portly man in expensive robes of red and black velvet glanced at the swords that the Watch-Sergeants wore, and his face soured briefly before he ostentatiously turned his back and continued his conversation with another mage.

Di'Fier leaned closer to his partner. "Remember, we can't just ask everyone if they're the necromancer."

Dru bit back a grin and snagged an hors d'oeuvre as it floated past in the wake of an apprentice, shanghaied into serving as a waiter. Out of long habit she scanned the place, taking note of the people present and who they were talking to.

Across the room, an aged man - but still hale and hearty - was talking with a woman and her son. The woman was middle-aged and trying to keep ahold of her beauty, the son in perhaps his twenties and obviously bored. Still, from the respect and deference that everyone treated the old man with, she could make a fair guess that he was High Wizard Tarmon.

Slightly closer, a black-clad elf with ruffs of lace at throat and cuffs spoke with an auburn-bearded dwarf. Dru's eye fell on the rapier at the elf's hip and she felt an eyebrow rise in surprise - she'd thought she and Di'Fier would be the only ones with blades here, and that only because they were part of the Watch's dress uniform.

Across the hall, near a sideboard arrayed with wine and sweetmeats, a burly dark-skinned man argued with a petite older woman, her hair shot through with gray. She was obviously not taking the matter as seriously as he, and her attitude only inflamed the man more. Circling about them and attempting to put in a few words of his own was Di'Fier's uncle Fenwyck. Oh, perfect, Dru grumbled to herself. Even as she watched he detached himself and began weaving towards them. The flush on his cheeks indicated that the glass of wine he held was not the first he'd had that night.

Fortunately, the other pair coming towards them was altogether more pleasant - if more unusual. Andolyn and her husband Gendrew made their way through the clusters of magi towards them. "Di'Fier, Dru, hello!" called Gendrew, the delight showing on his face.

"Hello, Gendrew," Di'Fier responded. "Did you make another edible golem for the dinner?"

The man seemed a bit crestfallen. "No, there wasn't time to experiment with the recipe. But next year...I've got an idea for a wonderful pie..."

Dru watched as Di'Fier was swept off into a conversation with his parents about the bizarre construct they had fought in Gendrew's basement, and turned instead to look for something to drink. Reaching for a glass of wine, her fingers encountered another hand.

"My apologies," the black-clad elf smiled, releasing the wineglass into Dru's grasp. "I will wait until the waiter has refreshed his tray." He locked gazes with the Watch-sergeant for a moment, then bowed slightly. "My name is Gothos Ebonrazor," he began.

Behind him, the dwarf snickered.

Gothos shot him a dirty look. "...and this is my friend, Garto."

The dwarf grunted a greeting, hooking his thumbs in his belt and surveying the rest of the crowd.

Something made Dru introduce herself with her full name. "I am Drusillia Naïlo," she told him, and saw his eyes widen a bit with surprise. "I'm not a wizard," she felt it necessary to add. "I'd much rather kill things."

Gothos recovered himself well. "Of course. My companion and I are adventurers. We've been exploring the Serpent Isles for some time now."

Adventurers? Dru thought, with a bit of disappointment. But they seemed so normal. "Oh really?" she asked dryly. "Have you found anything?"

"As a matter of fact, we have," said the elf smugly. "Did you know the Serpent's Teeth used to be inhabited by a race of snake-creatures?"

Every hackle on Dru's neck stood on end.

"They're long extinct, of course," the elf-mage continued, "but we found an abandoned temple on the other side of the isle that we cleared part of."

Extinct, eh? Shows what you know. Dru forbore from commenting, though, instead introducing the pair to Di'Fier, who had managed to break away from his family.


Di'Fier

Thank the gods I was able to break away from that, the young Watchman thought to himself. If I have to listen to Uncle Fenwyck's "give up this guard nonsense" speech one more time I think I'll snap. He made his way over to his partner and the strange pair talking to her.

Gothos Ebonrazor? That's a false name if I ever heard one. I wonder why the dwarf keeps snickering. Glancing around, he saw one of the guests from the mainland - the young man who'd been talking with High Wizard Tarmon - was now earnestly conversing with a thin but sweaty man. Kenzil, he thought to himself. Rumored to be involved with the Blue Lantern Gang...although nobody's ever found proof. Kenzil's former conversational companion, the velvet-robed man in red and black, was sweeping towards them, a sneer on his face.

"Ah, Garto," the man said, the expression on his face belying the pleasantry of his words. "I see your taste in companions is...admirable."

The dwarf guffawed. "Yer just jealous 'cos any one of them could whup yer ****."

"A true wizard," the man sniffed, "needs no crutches." He cast a disdainful look at the sword hanging at Di'Fier's hip.

Di'Fier looked him over. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure," he said coolly.

"I am Eligaard," the man began, "magus of the third rank." The word magus was nearly drowned out by Garto's offering of "pompous windbag".

"Watch-sergeant Di'Fier."

"Oh. The prodigal."

"You've been speaking to my uncle."

"He is a wise man."

Dru turned to Gothos. "Isn't it amusing when someone half your age tries to come across as so superior?"

Eligaard sputtered, and flushed red. He ground out, "As Garto can tell you, age is not necessarily an indicator of power." With that, he spun on his heel and left.

"He has a power problem, doesn't he?" Dru observed.

"He's an ****hole," Garto confirmed.

"And these," came a new voice, "are some of our newer members." The High Wizard had led his guest to their little group. Scurrying along behind the pair was Uncle Fenwyck - although there was perhaps more weaving than scurrying. "Garto is not only a capable wizard but also an expert in linguistics...Li-ah, Gothos is a recent arrival, and this is Watch-sergeant Di'Fier and..." he looked at Dru, puzzled. "...guest," he finished.

"Yes, Di'Fier's a guardsman," Fenwyck offered. "He'd be quite a capable mage if he abandoned all of this running about with a sword. Runs in the family, if I do say so myself. His grandfather - my father - was High Wizard for..."

Ignoring Fenwyck's babbling completely, the blonde laid a hand on Di'Fier's arm and looked at him with her deep green eyes. "I'm sure your adventures as a guard are absolutely fascinating. You must share them with me sometime."

The gnome pushed the doors open again. "High Wizard Emeritus Volund!"

Grandfather! Di'Fier thought, and joined the mass of people moving to greet the ancient and respected wizard.


Dru

The elf sighed as Di'Fier moved away. One more person who doesn't approve of the path Di'Fier has taken, she thought to herself. And one more person who looks at me as a symbol of that path. She made her way across the room to the sideboard, where Di'Fier's father was loading a plate with hors d'ouevres. He shot her a pitying look, and for a moment there was mutual understanding between the two.

"Alust, magus of the third circle...Ivellimor, magus of the second circle...Quarion, magus of the first circle." The gnome's voice echoed in Dru's ear, and the names in her mind.

All three worked for her father.


-----
Phew. This is exhausting. Still more to go, since I cut off before the end of dinner. I may drop back to log mode for normal sessions, and reserve story mode for the heavy-roleplaying ones like the Guild dinner - and the interludes, of course.

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Six, Part Three: Dinner with the Wizards, Continued

Dru

Dru's eyes flashed around the room. If I try anything, someones bound to notice, she thought. Then again, if they try anything someone's bound to notice. She took a casual step closer to the sideboard, shielding herself from their direct line-of-sight behind Di'Fier's father.

The retired Watchman looked at her, flicked his eyes the other way, and turned to more completely block her from their view. "Trouble?" he asked.

Dru gave a curt nod, watching as the three moved over to greet Ebonrazor. I might have known. Not only an adventurer, but mixed up with them... She glanced around the rest of the room. Di'Fier was still cornered by that Elsa woman, no help to be had there. The woman's son and the sweaty fellow - strange, they'd disappeared. Everyone else she knew was in the knot surrounding the High Wizard Emeritus.

Movement caught the corner of her eye. Gothos was gesturing towards her, and her father's pet mages turned to lock their eyes on her. Too late, she thought. Best bull through it. She let her gaze sweep over them, not lingering, as if she didn't find them worthy of her attention. Meanwhile, she reviewed what she knew.

Quarion. He'd attached himself to the organization long after she left her father's fold, but he was of little account. It looked like he'd decided to toady up to Alust in the hopes that the elf was "going somewhere".

Ivellimor. A pity, really - he ought to know better. He was always in it for the excitement and the money, instead of the elven superiority her father preached.

Alust. Undoubtedly the leader of the trio, if only because Quarion was too spineless and Ivellimor too disinterested. He'd like to think he'd make a good leader, but the only reason he was really tolerated was his magic.

The elves turned away from Gothos and conferred among themselves. Interesting. Maybe he's not a part of it after all...

Her study was interrupted by the ponderous opening of the great doors into the dining hall. The panting gnome caught his breath and then called out, "Magi and guests, dinner is served!" Then he scampered out of the way as the knots of wizards and their guests and relations began to move en masse towards the tables.


Di'Fier

Di'Fier guided his partner to the table. They wouldn't be seated at the High Table, not being officers - although the rest of his family was. The rest of the seats were arranged by rank. He found himself seated next to the dwarf, Garto. On Garto's other side was the pompous Eligaard. A recipe for trouble, he thought, based on how much they seem to like each other.

The other side of the table was lined with elves. Alust, Ivellimor, Gothos, and Quarion. The black-clad elf took a look at the arrangements and then reached out and plucked Quarion's card from it's place, switching it with his own. The young elf's cry of protest dwindled at this unexpected social promotion, and Gothos sat down across from Dru. What is he up to?

The gnome clambered into the tall seat at the head of the table, and finally Di'Fier was able to place him - Glenfield, Tarmon's apprentice. The gnome carefully set an ancient and withered looking toad on the table by his plate. As the High Wizard's apprentice, he was given the honor of the head seat at one of the lower tables, expected to act as host - and to care for his master's familiar.

Ampiel? Di'Fier sent a wave of questioning over the link he shared to his raven.

*tasty* was the reply.

Maybe it's better that I don't know, the young Watch-Sergeant reflected.

The first course was a fish soup, served at room temperature. "It's cold," grumbled Garto.

Smoothly, Eligaard suggested, "Perhaps you should send it back."

"Good idea." The dwarf waved an apprentice over. "Take this back and heat it up." The boy was too flustered to object, and so the first hint Garto had of his faux pas was the snickering of Alust and his companions.

"I think it's supposed to be served cold," observed Dru."

Di'Fier leaned over to the dwarf. "When it comes back, tell me if it's any better."

The dwarf reddened above his beard and turned to glare at Eligaard. The mage, unconcerned, kept sipping his own dish.

Di'Fier whispered to his partner, "I hope that when they bring the bread out, they don't bring any knives..."

Following the soup was some sort of stuffed mushroom in sauce. As it was brought out, Di'Fier caught Garto winking at his elven friend. Then the dwarf turned to Di'Fier. "So, what do you think of this 'Milton's Folly', eh? If they'd had dwarves working on it, it'd be done already, and under budget to boot!"

It was almost enough to distract Di'Fier from the subtle gesture that Gothos made under the cover of the table. As he opened his mouth to reply, the plate that was being set in front of Eligaard suddenly upended itself, spilling mushroom, cheese, and cream down the front of the wizard's rich velvet robes.

"You clumsy oaf!" the mage bellowed, springing to his feet and advancing on the terrified apprentice.

Garto grinned at his elven friend.

From the high table, Tarmon's voice carried clearly across the room. "What is going on down there?"

It stopped Eligaard in his tracks, and the mage turned and bowed. "My apologies, High Wizard. There was an...accident with a stuffed mushroom. I am certain," he gritted, with a glance at Garto, "that it will not happen again." He resumed his seat.

"...so there we were, surrounded by assassins, with six crossbows levelled at us, and we were still in the jongeleur's costumes. I pull my knife, and then Di'Fier tells them to stand down, that they are all under arrest. It went downhill after that."

Gothos chuckled warily, as if he weren't sure whether he believed the story - or whether he wanted to. "And is that where you got the scar?"

"No, that was a different time altogether. We were investigating a guy running illegal games of za'this on his boat..."

Alust leaned back in his chair, and asked Di'Fier from across the table, "So tell me, Watchman, do your studies of swordplay leave you any time to learn to, say, detect magic?"

"Oh," Di'Fier replied diffidently. "I use scrolls for that."

The exchange caught Dru's attention, though, for she leaned over and studied the elf in the center. "Ivellimor. I see you're slumming."

He grinned, brushing silver-gold hair away from his face. "No more than you."

"I'd rather walk with a human than with pond scum," Dru replied, glancing at Alust. "So...how is papa doing?"

The leader of the trio waved his hand diffidently. "Still on his superiority kick. If he put his mind to making money, he'd be doing better for himself."


Dru

Dru studied Alust's flunkies for their reactions. It's a dangerous game you're playing, Alust. I'll bet you have no idea just how dangerous. Tensin Naïlo did not take insurrection or insubordination lightly - a fact she knew all too well.

As the fish was served, Gothos leaned across the table. "I notice our guest from the mainland seemed very interested in your partner."

"I noticed that too," said Dru and Di'Fier, near simultaneously.

"I'd watch yourself," Gothos said softly. "Baron Dragosani passed away under some rather unusual circumstances. It's fortunate that he had a son to succeed him."

The rest of the dinner passed more or less without event. Garto and Eligaard confined themselves to verbal jabs, Di'Fier ate quietly, her father's men conversed among themselves, and Gothos listened to more tales of her exploits since becoming a guard. When the dinner began to break up for brandy and cigars, she caught her partner's eye.

"Time to go."

Di'Fier nodded. "Yes, you must excuse us. We have a funeral to attend."

"Hardly surprising," sniffed Eligaard, "in those who choose to live by the blade."

Dru's fist clenched involuntarily, but she restrained her anger. Later. Wait until he's done something illegal, and then you can take him down. She spun on her heel without a word, and the two Watch-Sergeants strode from the hall side-by-side.

Next: Dessert with the Dead!

 

[DiFier]

mmm dessert. luckily while Dr. N has called that section dessert with the dead it has nothing to do with fighting food. not that I didn't enjoy the 'Something's Cooking' adventure, it was a lot of fun just too many edible constructs might get cheesy (oh man!) while there isn't much dessert (at least for us) there is lots of dead.

We unfortunatlly began rolling very poorly. I think the dice were peeved when we didn't use them for the first half of the session.

Di'fier

 

[drnuncheon]

...guilty look...

I don't know when the next update will be - tomorrow night I'm gaming online, Wednesday night is Enterprise, Thursday night will be an Escaflowne marathon (assuming Amazon delivers in time), and Friday is the next session. Hmmm.

Well, I'll give a teaser. In upcoming episodes we will see:

• when not to have a contract dispute
• Dru: "The quality of thugs in this city is going downhill."
• Di'Fier: "Did he resemble a snake in any way?"
• the untimely death of a guardsman
• the reappearance of the rose
  
  and most amazing of all...
  
• Dru and Di'Fier show restraint!

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Six, Part Four: Dessert With the Dead

Dru

Dru and Di'Fier stood in ranks with the other Watchmen, assembled at the graveside. A thin grey rain fell from the sky, wetting their hair and running down the outside of their oiled cloaks.

Next to Dru, Kiva sighed. Quietly, to himself: "I've been here too much lately."

At the gates to the cemetary, the pipes began to play. The honor guard advanced, carrying the two boxes of unfinished pine. Dru fought to keep the sneer from her lips as she saw who was in the honor guard - the guards who kept their noses clean, and never upset anyone important. If you don't bring any true justice to the city, she thought sourly, we might let you carry your coworker's coffin.

The priest of the merchant god - a fat old man - began to intone the words of the funeral service - words the two Watch-Sergeants had heard far too often. But something seemed wrong. Dru could feel it - her partner was on alert, and his eyes were not closed in prayer, but searching out into the dim mist.

And then, a hand closed around her ankle.


Di'Fier

The ceremony exploded into chaos. All around and among the guardsman, skeletal hands clawed their way from the muck to lash out at the living. Di'Fier spoke a word of power, feeling the arcane forces tighten into a protective net around his body. His hand went to the new weapon that hung from his belt - a heavy mace. Once again, foresight paid off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dru dumping a vial onto the hand that held her - it turned black and began to smoke before shattering violently. The other guards were panicking, struggling to free their blades and back away from an enemy that surrounded and intermingled with them - and above it all, the high pitched fearfulness of the priest: "This was not in the contract!"

"Captain, behind you!" he heard Dru shout.

"Form up!" cried Captain Donnach, trying to rally his men. "Riot formation! Move, guards! NOW!"

Di'Fier sent his mace smashing through the ribcage of one of the creatures, sending its broken pieces to the ground. From out of the mist, he saw the source of the movement he noticed earlier: bounding out of the mist came slavering, bestial man-shapes, dead grey skin pulled tight over muscle and bone...and an umistakable sense of hunger. They smashed into the forming guard formation, and Dru and the Captain were barely able to turn aside their blows. Meanwhile, the priest was proving that the walking dead care nothing for money - no matter how fervently he presented the golden medallion before him, the skeletons continued their inexorable advance.


Dru

Dru's blade turned on the ghoul. At least here's something with flesh to wound! But the undead thing ducked under her thrust, came up inside her guard, and its teeth found her shoulder, and blood flowed.

Beside her, the captain suffered the same fate - and as his limbs began to stiffen, she remembered that humans did not share the same immunity to the touch of the creature as she did. Or at least, most didn't - Jaffar somehow managed to fight on despite the claw-rakes along his side.

The melee swirled around her as guards hacked and bashed at skeletons, their blades doing little to the fleshless creatures. Where's Di'Fier? she thought wildly, parrying a claw-stroke from the ghoul and executing a riposte that sank deep into its shoulder.


Di'Fier

The mud splashed around his feet as Di'Fier charged across the cemetary-become-battleground. His eyes were fixed on the bloody-fingered skeleton that was even now lashing out again at Kiva. Oh, no you don't! We just got him patched up! he thought, his feet sliding in the muck as he tried to plant a massive swing on the skeleton. His blow did not land, and the slip left him open for the skeleton to turn its tender attentions to him - clawing even through the mage armor that protected him.

The guardsman brought the mace around on the backswing, and this time he did not miss. The skeleton crumpled into a pile of unattached bones, its skull shattered like a bottle in a dockside barfight. Around him, the guards began to rally as their desperate repeated blows finally began to take effect - one skeleton dropped, and another staggered drunkenly on with a shattered hip. "Kive, get out of here," he said, and the bleeding guardsman nodded, heading for the nearest source of cover - the freshly dug grave. Di'Fier hoped his action wasn't going to turn out to be symbolic.

In the momentary lull, Di'Fier looked up to see the ghouls reaping the guards like wheat, paralyzed bodies falling in their wake. The mace fell to the mud of the field, and he draw his sword. His left hand twisted into an arcane sigil, and he spoke another word of power, feeling strength and power flood through his veins. Grimly, he raised the bastard sword with both hands.


Dru

There's no time for this, Dru thought, glancing over to where the exhausted, bleeding guards tried to fend off their undead attackers. Stepping around the ghoul, she struck again, her blade finding purchase in its greasy flesh. Again and again its claws lashed out, opening red furrows on Dru's body, but her elven blood let her fight on.

Across the battlefield, she could see that not all of her companions were so lucky. Jaffar was down, poor Hogni was down, half the honor guard was paralyzed...If we don't turn this around soon, we're not getting out of here. Her blade took the ghoul through its open mouth, piercing its palate and thrusting up into the brain. She kicked the corpse off of her blade and headed for the captain. She could see the priest scatter from her path, diving into one of the open graves as if that would hide him from her when she was done. Useless b-st-rd.

Now she could see Di'Fier again, charging across the battlefield towards the ghouls. He leapt over the open grave, but a poor landing made his blow miss. When will he learn to leave the acrobatics to an elf? she thought, and rejoined the fray herself.


Kiva

Kiva barely had time to dive out of the way as the corpulent merchant-priest threw himself into the open grave. "Hey! Watch out!"

The priest huddled in the corner in terror. "Protect me...you must protect me...this isn't in the contract...burial service, not fighting undead...please..."

The guardsman sagged against the earthen wall. Useless b-st-rd, he thought, unknowingly mimicing Dru's own thoughts on the matter. Then a smile came to his lips.

"All right, I'll protect you," he said. "But I'm too badly wounded right now. You've got to heal me."

The priest battled with every tenet of his faith. "But...the cost..."

"...is more than paid by my services in keeping you alive, right?"

Fearfully, the priest nodded, and as he touched Kiva a golden radiance spread over the guardsman, restoring him to health.

Kiva grinned. "Thanks." Movign forward, he planted one foot on the fat priest's head, using it to boost him out of the grave. As he drew his sword, he could har the man's plaintive cry behind him: "You promised you'd protect me!"

"I am!" he shouted back. "Now just stay there and shut up!"


Di'Fier

The power surged in the warrior-mage's body as his blade bit deep into the ghoul's flesh. Around him, the last of the skeletons were finally falling to the concerted efforts of the remaining guardsmen - even Kiva had returned to the fray. The ghoul hissed as he raised his sword, and then as one it and its last remaining partner turned and fled into the night. Di'Fier's sword stroke bit through it as it ran, hurtling it to the mud, where it lay still.

The mud around Di'Fier was thick with the blood of his fellow guardsmen. He thrust the blade into the ground to hold it and knelt by the nearest, pulling one of the vials of healing elixir from his belt and pouring it down the guard's throat. The man coughed, and color returned to his face as the magic worked its way through his body.

Nearby, Jaffar had received the same treatment from Dru, and was sitting up weakly. Di'Fier moved to Captain Donnach and knelt beside him. The man was rigid, but blood still oozed from his wounds, and Di'Fier could feel a pulse. "You'll be all right in a few minutes, Captain," he said. "This will wear off in a little while." He propped the captain's head on a rolled-up cloak to make the man as comfortable as possible in the wet mud and rain, and went to look for his partner.


Dru

The mud soaked through the knees of Dru's breeches as she knelt by the small, still form. The remnants of the useless healing elixir were still visible on the poor man's lips, but she had not been fast enough. Goodbye, Hogni, she thought. I guess the captain will need to find something else for his migraines. She reached out and closed the guardsman's eyes, setting his head back down onto the ground. Then she stood, and walked into the rain to find her partner.

Hell of a way to come back to the job.


Notes

Dru and Di'fier each gained a level after this. Details are in the Rogue's Gallery. I've got a two session backlog to write up, so look for more Dru and Di'Fier soon!

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Seven: Reptiles and Royal Jelly

DM Note: Assigning the Blame - The following writeups will contain spoilers for Green Ronin's Terror in Freeport and "Thirds of Purloined Vellum" from Dungeon #88. Details have been changed to protect the guilty. Any other plotlines running through the narrative are my own fault.



Di'Fier

The wild-haired halfling stood behind Dru and Di'fier, clasping and unclasping his hands. "You will come back if you have more questions, yes? So few people want to know about the walking dead..." The pair looked at each other, then gave the old man matching sickly grins and nods.

"My head feels like it's had a tanglefoot bag stuffed inside it," the elven Watch-sergeant complained as they made their escape from the sage's house.

"Well," her lanky human partner said, "they did say he was eccentric. And he certainly knew what he was talking about. This information ought to help out the guards if these undead problems continue. Maybe we can get a bulk discount on holy water."

"All right. While you go talk to the captain, I need to see Spruce. I need him to do a little research for me." Dru seemed nervous, eyes roaming, searching out rooftops and shadowed alleyways.

Di'Fier frowned. "Is it about that rose you found?" His partner just nodded. "All right. I'll meet you at the Rusty Lantern before duty."


Dru

It feels almost strange to be back on patrol, the elf thought to herself. Maybe we should get suspended again - we got a lot more done that week. Still, it's good to have the badge and the Watch backing again. Her reverie was interrupted by the ringing of steel on steel. A fight, and not a small one. She shot a quick grin at her partner and drew her blade, even as Di'Fier summoned the ghostly protective force of his mage armor. As one, the pair charged forward.

What they saw was a clearly unequal fight - a trio of ruffians surrounding a burly scimitar-weilding warrior - obviously a bodyguard - and his charge, a slight older man struggling to draw his dagger despite the encumbrance of the large satchel slung over his shoulder. The bodyguard was making a valiant effort to hold off the thugs, but they had him distracted from the new threat - a group of three more ruffians emerging from an alley and heading towards the pair!

Dru's feet flew over the cobblestones. "Beware, behind you!" she shouted to the merchant, but her warning alerted her target as well, who spun and parried her initial thrust, then counterattacked. Only her long years of practice allowed her to defect the short blade that slashed out at her throat. Only moments behind her, Di'Fier charged in to meet a foe that was ready for him - ready enough to block the warrior-mage's massive blade, at least.

Meanwhile, one of the new attackers slid along the alley wall, blade in hand. With a startled yelp the merchant turned to confront him, but the older man's reflexes were not as fast as the Freeport thug's, and the man's blade sank deep into the merchant's gut, dropping him to the stony street. The man's bodyguard roared in anger, but the press of attackers kept him on the defensive. Working together, the thugs flanked him, trading opportunities to open deep wounds in the man's flesh. A dagger spun from one of the attackers towards Dru, but the magic of her buckler allowed her to swat it from the air like an annoying insect.

In the press of bodies, Dru could barely see what was happening to the merchant. Her blade found purchase in flesh, somewhere, as she lashed out around her. Then, from the crowd, she heard a voice: "We've got it! Come on!" followed by running feet. Like a harbor mist on a windy day, the crowd of attackers began to disperse in all directions, some leaving trails of blood to mark their passage. Only the pair engaged in tormenting the bodyguard remained - if one broke, the man would be quick to finish off the other.

Dru growled and spun, reaching into her belt pouch as she ran after the thief with the satchel. She could hear Di'Fier behind her fumbling with his bow, and then her fingers found what they were looking for - a glass vial containing an elixir of invisibility. Without stopping, she pulled the stopper with her teeth and gulped the liquid down as she ran. An arrow whistled past her but missed the running thief.

Dru gritted her teeth and pushed herself to run faster, to keep the thief in sight. Her rapier was clenched in her hand as she leaned into her run, throwing caution to the wind. She was gaining on him. The terrified thief looked behind him at the sound of footsteps, but saw nobody, and ran all the faster for it. But not fast enough.

The thief pitched forward, sliding off of Dru's blade before she could even come to a stop. The satchel flew from his hand, sailing a few feet away before impacting with a disturbing sound of shattering crockery. That did not sound good, Dru thought to herself, retrieving the leather bag. I hope it wasn't too important. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she ducked around the corner to return to the fray from the other side.


Di'Fier

Di'Fier pulled his blade free of the thug just as the man's companion sank his dagger deep into the bodyguard's side. Seeing that his friend was down, the man spun and dashed away at top speed. Di'Fier set his sword down and knelt by the dying man's side. "Hang on," he said. Was that a flicker of understanding in the eyes? His hand finally found the vial of healing potion, and he flicked the stopper from its mouth, pouring it into the man's throat. Seems I'm doing this a lot lately, the young Watchman thought to himself as the man started to revive. I'd better see to the merchant, too...

As he thought that, Dru came around the corner bearing the satchel. She squatted by the merchant. "Drink this." The merchant stared up at her, uncomprehending until she pressed the potion vial on him. "He dropped it. I heard something break." The elf sighed. "The quality of thugs in this city is going downhill." Helping the merchant and his bodyguard to their feet, the pair escorted them to the Black Rose, a nearby inn.

"So, what were they after?" Di'Fier asked the man - Kathkallan, he had called himself - after they were seated around one of the Rose's more secluded tables.

In response, the merchant opened his satchel, and sighed. "It seems one of my jars broke..." Looking back at them, he said, "This satchel represents my entire fortune - jars of a substance called royal jelly. Have you heard of it?" The Watchmen indicated that they had not. "Well, it is made by giant bees...they feed it to certain young bees to make then into queens."

Dru nodded sagely. "I can see where that would sell well."

"Actually, I had signed a contract with a cosmeticist...well...maybe that is not the best place to start," the merchant wavered. "I was retracing the steps of my journeyman, Galliad, when I was attacked. He's vanished, and he's taken my contacts with him."

Di'Fier shook his head. "Wait...what contracts?"

"I had negotiated an exclusive contract with Arrasti cosmetics to buy these jars - the first product of my hives. They were to pay me..." he lowered his voice. "Four thousand pieces of gold." The shock on the Watchmen's face only deepened when he added: "Per jar. But without the contract, he has me - he won't give me anywhere near that price, and I have no way to enforce it. But if I sell to someone else, he can produce his own copy of contract and not only will I lose the sale and be fined, but he will be able to buy it from the city for a pittance." The merchant set the satchel down carefully at his feet. "Then there was the other contract, as well."

"Other contract?" Di'Fier asked. How much worse could this get?

"For vanilla beans. I bought an option to purchase them for a hundred pieces of gold per pound some time ago."

The guardsmen looked at each other. Vanilla beans? Again? The merchant had already continued.

"...now selling for more than twice that, so you can see that I would stand to lose a great deal without that contract." The merchant sighed. "I must ask you to help me. Find my journeyman and recover the contracts, please!"

"We'll do what we can, sir," Di'Fier assured him as the Watchmen took their leave.


Dru

Dru walked the streets quietly next to her partner, mulling over the merchant's plight. Someone has to have those contracts, she thought, and I'll just bet it's whoever hired those thugs. I wonder if the assistant ran off with them?

Out of the darkness ahead came another bobbing lantern. Dru's elven eyes were able to pick out the two watchmen who accompanied it long before any of the others could see each other.

"Kliege, Davos," she greeted them, and enjoyed seeing them start with surprise. "Anything exciting?"

Davos, always the loquacious one, grunted. His partner was more forthcoming. "Not a lot," he said, pulling out a hand-rolled cigarette and lighting it from his lantern's flame. "Find any dead bodies? We had one."

"Oh yeah?" asked Di'Fier. "Not a young guy by any chance, short hair, from out of town?"

"Nah, old lady. This girl was with her, she talked real funny - just says back what you say to her. Like an echo."

Dru nodded. "We met her. Did she seem like she was grieving?"

"...she seemed scared." There was a long moment of silence, then the other Watchman gave a shrug. "We took her down to the station, gave her some soup, tried to get her to talk for a while, then we let her go." He pinched out his smoke and saved the dog-end for later. As he turned to go, he paused. "So who's this stiff you were askin' about?"

"A missing journeyman," Di'Fier said. "First time in the city, he up and vanished. His master's looking for him."

Davos snorted. "Check the brothels." He and Kliege shared a chuckle, and walked back into the night.

Dru turned to her partner. "So...you want to go to a whorehouse, Di'Fier?"


Di'Fier

"That's the last one on our beat," Di'Fier sighed as he and Dru exited the Jolly Roger, "And none of them have seen this missing journeyman."

"It's about time to end our shift anyway," said his partner. "Lets head back to headquarters and check in. The Captain's probably got a new reason to yell at us."

A walk of only a few minutes brought them through the deserted, rain-slick streets to the Watch headquarters. As soon as they entered, they were hailed by the desk sergeant. "Someone's waitin' for you two. He's in the back."

"What now?" asked Di'Fier as they headed to the waiting room. "We didn't upset anyone...you don't suppose it's Kathkallan, do you?"

"No idea," said Dru, pushing the door open. "It could be...Brother Egil?!"

Indeed, the blonde priest of the God of Knowledge was seated in the room, a worried expression on his face - a face which lit up as Dru and Di'Fier entered the room. "We don't get that reaction much," muttered Di'fier.

"Dru, Di'Fier! I'm so glad I found you." The priest reached forward to clasp each of their hands in both of his own. "I must speak with you...about the matter in which you aided me a short time ago. Is there a place where we can talk privately?"

Di'Fier nudged the door closed with his foot, and sat down. "Here's fine, nobody will bother us."

"Very well." The cleric took a deep breath, and then his words came rushing out like a wave. "It is Lucius, again - or rather, it was Lucius that led to me discovering what I did. He has had much trouble readjusting - first the possession, then the kidnapping...I am sure you understand. Lately, he has been getting worse - even going so far as to have fainting spells as he works at his desk." The cleric sank back into his chair and looked around the room as if to reassure himself that nobody was listening in.

"Whenever he has a spell," Egil continued, "one of is takes him home. Last night it was my turn. I put him to bed and sat down to rest a moment. I must have fallen asleep, but suddenly I was wide awake. I opened my eyes, carefully, and in the darkness I could see movement."

Dru and Di'Fier leaned forward to catch the priest's next words.

"The shape was not human. I could smell it as well - it smelled like..." Egil paused, reaching for the words. "...like water on rocks. Like a cave. Or a serpent."

The Watchmen exchanged glances as Egil went on. "It searched the room, looking through Lucious' drawers, examining his books. I had no idea what it could possibly want - our order takes a vow of poverty, so Lucius had nothing to steal. Finally, it seemed to find what it wanted - a scroll of some sort, which it hid in its cape as it left. I haven't been able to tell Lucius about it at all - I fear it would only worsen his condition - but I knew that you two must be told."

Egil took another deep, shaky breath. "I do not believe that the Council is truly cleaning out those caverns. Milos was able to convince our entire order that he was human - who knows how many other shapes he may have taken, or how many more of these snake-men are in the city today? My friends, please, I beg of you: find out what is going on at the temple, uncover what these snake-men want in Freeport."

Di'Fier nodded. "We will, Egil. I've heard that Verlaine's men are guarding the temple now..."

"That is so," Egil confirmed. "I have been by myself to see the site, and they were there. Three of them. I also made some inquiries around town, and tracked down a place where Milos took a room. It is in the Marquis Moon, in the Old City. He called himself 'Devlin' when he rented it. Perhaps there will be something there..."

Dru nodded. "We'll check it out first thing tomorrow morning," she promised as she and Di'Fier rose from their seats. Dryly, she added: "Maybe we can even get suspended again." The elf chuckled at Egil's wince, and led him out the door.


Next time: Missing Persons and Missing Hearts
Dru and Di'Fier conduct a pair of investigations: one official and one not - but the discovery of a body with a missing heart throws a new twist into their searches.

 

[Thorntangle]

Now I have to come up with a trademark version of "Great update". Horacio owns that and Tsunami has a lock on "Woah"

Fantastic Update! ™

I'm really getting to like the idea of a city-based adventure. I guess it's because of the seemingly endless scenarios and a firm established base of operations that's never far from the action, shops, training, etc. Everything all in one place.

A few questions - Are you planning to expand beyond Freeport when more source material is released or stay in Freeport indefinitely?
Are D & D planning on updating their arms/armor or are they bound forever by the city watch's standard issue equipment?

 

[drnuncheon]

I'm really getting to like the idea of a city-based adventure. I guess it's because of the seemingly endless scenarios and a firm established base of operations that's never far from the action, shops, training, etc. Everything all in one place.

Absolutely! This is my first time running a city campaign, and I'm happy that it's going this well. (It's also really my first extended 3e campaign - I had run some short adventures online and had an abortive attempt at one with some other folks earlier.) I think it's a nice break from the usual to see the other side of things.

I'm not sure how much it comes across, but Dru is very contemptuous of adventurers - they come into town, they cause all kinds of trouble, they think the laws don't apply to them...

A few questions - Are you planning to expand beyond Freeport when more source material is released or stay in Freeport indefinitely?

Well, although I'm currently waiting with bated breath for Freeport: City of Adventure I don't think Green Ronin is going to be expanding the world too much - I think they want everyoen to put the city into their own world. As for leaving Freeport, well, let's just say that it's a possibility in the future, and the seeds have already been planted.

Are D & D planning on updating their arms/armor or are they bound forever by the city watch's standard issue equipment?

If you look closely, you'll note that neither of them actually use the standard issue weapons (beyond the truncheon, at least) - Di'Fier's got a bastard sword and Dru uses a rapier & buckler. I think part of the reason they haven't upgraded is the fact that they've been kept relatively poor - for adventurers anyway. For guardsmen, they're quite well off! So much of their money goes into buying healing potions...I know Dru is buying up her Use Magic Device, so I rather expect that she will be searching for someone to make her a cure wand at some point.

With regards to armor, Di'Fier in particular is loathe to go any heavier - he's quite frightened of the spell falure chances. When he starts getting Spellsword levels I expect that will change. They hardly need it, though - between their magical protections (Di'Fier's mage armor and ring of protection +2 and Dru's buckler +1 of arrow deflection) and their high Dex scores, they've got ACs of around 18.

I fully expect them to upgrade their weapons first, to make up for their lousy to-hit rolls.

J