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KidCthulhu's Scarred Land story hour
- Thread starter Piratecat
- Start date
Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Fulcan said:
The group is currently in transition. We've just lost two players (Deke and Kenyan) who moved out of the area. We have three new players joining the group (Kira, Terri and Caerwyn) two of whom haven't moved into the area yet, but are due here soon.
I believe KidC created this futurama to bide time until everyone is settled. Then we should pick up where we left off.
Chef
ps-Did I mention what a kick this is to play? What a thrill for a low-level character to get a taste of her potential!
Last edited:
Blood Jester
First Post
Iron Chef BBQ said:
That's it, I'm marrying Kira!
And Terri is due for a stern talking to...
Wheee!
Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
It's the end of the World as we know it (run of 09-09-03)
“All day long we have fought in twilight. All sense of time has been lost. Minutes stretch into hours, perhaps into days, and still they come. All around us explosions, cries, death. I am weary beyond all time. What brought the world to this? Was there some simple mistake made by some unimportant fool on a sunny day years ago? Could the misstep of one have led to this day, or was it the countless missteps of many over eons? Why do I feel like it’s all my fault?” Marja’s great and graceful form is fatigued to exhaustion. Even in the midst of all the noise and chaos she feels that it would be so easy just to lie down and sleep. “Just make it stop,” she thinks as torn wings slowly lower her to the ground, “I’m so tired.”
The hoards of Titan spawn have swept across the battlefield, swept across, over and around this weary, rag-tag band of friends. From the air Marja could see the hopelessness of the fight. The Titans were winning. Even the Calastian priests, so late to realize their folly in aiding the Titans, so late to join the battle, were all dead. In selfless heroics, the priests had drawn the demons to them, and at the last moment, when the swarm was at its thickest, they had destroyed themselves in magical blasts that took hundreds of lives, and now none were left. Marja had spotted but few remaining warriors from the races of the gods, and most were being crushed under the never-ending onslaught. “Many still hold their own,” Marja sends over the mind link, but no one really believes her.
Before them stands a giant spider as large as a two-story building. Each of its two black shiny eyes is as big as a dwarf, as big as one dwarf in particular who pushes his way to face the creature. Borin hurls a bead of force over 50 feet right into one of those eyes. They all duck. The explosion is barely audible over the roar of the battlefield. When they look back, the spider hasn’t moved. The bead had no effect on the massive creature.
A low, deep growling voice begins to chant. For the last time that day, the voice of the wolf calls into the hot wind, calling on what nature is left alive around him. Fang summons a swarm. From every direction around the spider ants, flies, wasps, fleas and maggots converge and attack.
Terri, visible for a brief moment, raises her hands to call a flame strike into being. The spark begins to form in her hands when suddenly it turns into a swarm of angry beads. Once again magic has gone awry. Everyone ducks to avoid the terrible glowing lights. One flies into Caerwyn’s pack. An explosion pushes him forward, but he manages to keep his feet. “What was it?” Terri calls. “Nothing of import,” answers Caerwyn stoically. How could he explain it anyway. They were knitting needles. He’d had them for almost all his life. He had only recently become aware of their true magic. Oh well, no sense crying over spilt milk.
“I’m going in,” Kira shouts over the mind link. “Oh, and I see 10 hags on its back. Thought you’d want to know.” She’s invisible so no one can gage her progress until suddenly the spider turns its head. Seven voices send out a warning, “It can see you.” But Kira already knows. She’s seen too much today to be ruffled by the crushing mouth of a giant spider. She stabs her dagger deep into its eye. The others can’t see Kira, but they can see the slash that appears.
Kel runs through his list of available spells, but realizing that two out of every three spells cast today seem to go bad, he opts for charging. He raises his great sword and lunges at the creature’s face despite its 15-foot reach. Before the creature can react, Kel has sliced completely through a mandible and is standing there gasping for breath and covered with ichor.
The spider lunges forward and bites Kel, then it pulls itself up onto all 8 legs and hurls itself onto the ground, on top of Kel. A tremor like an earthquake ripples through the ground. Fang is knocked prone. He begins to whimper as a wave of dust, dirt and body parts echo outward from the shock waves.
Marja hastes the group with a sigh of relief that the spell works and rises back into the air while Lucre rushes to Kel, still trapped under the body of the spider. Lucre opens a dimension door and pulls Kel to the rear of the spider.
Kalina turns three of the swarming wasps into giant vermin, but their colossal stingers seem to have no effect on the beast who ignores them completely. It turns and makes eye contact with Fang, Kira, Caerwyn and Marja. They all feel their hearts seize up in their chests. In the moment before they feel unconsciousness approaching they gasp for breath. Their hearts begin to beat once more. All, except Kira. Her presence over the mind link ceases. They can’t see her, but they know she is dead. The last to join their little band was the first to fall.
From the top of the spider two cones of rainbow-colored spray (prismatic) shoot toward Kel and Lucre. Kel sees the vision of a shimmering archway open up before him. He feels himself being drawn into a world of metal and flame. Huge creatures crack fiery whips as burned and destroyed people in chains trudge in endless drear. “No!” Kel screams. Through strength that he thought had left him hours ago, he holds himself back from the horrible vision. Lucre sees no such horror, but is badly burned with acid.
Kalina, Marja and Terri are suddenly falling – upwards! They crash 70 feet into the air and right themselves, upside down. Marja speaks the word, Kazmira, and her magic carpet unfurls from her pack. She instructs it to wait for Terri while she flies off toward the hags. Terri runs upside down to the edge of the reversed gravity area and jumps nimbly onto the carpet while Kalina turns herself into a wrack dragon and flies toward the hags spewing hot tar.
Another hag sends a shock wave across the group. Borin is knocked to the ground. Slowly he manages to pull himself to his feet, blood pouring from his ears. Poor Fang faired far worse. He is stunned and unable to move (for 7 rounds). Caerwyn manages to withstand the force. He activates his Boots of Zoom and flies toward a hag and manages to get off one small attack.
Kel opens his cubic gateway. It opens to a shining, beautiful, orderly world with happy people striding around with great purpose. One hag gets sucked in. He watches her scream and writhe with pain as she turns to ash before she even reaches the ground of this other world. Kel has barely a moment to grin as he feels something wet on his back. The spider shot an enormous web. Lucre was able to avoid it by pushing his body into the hairy, putrid side of the spider, but Kel, caught concentrating on his gateway, finds himself hopelessly stuck. In the front the spider claws at Caerwyn and jumps backwards in an attempt to crush Kel and Lucre. Again Lucre holds his breath and scrambles partway up the side of the beast, but Kel is helpless as the creature lands on top of him.
Lucre manifests Kel onto the spider’s back by whacking what he can see of Kel’s feet, then he attacks swinging his cousin’s great axe with force. The creature dodges his devastating critical, but gets hit in Lucre’s next three whirlwind attacks.
By now the flying carpet is hovering over the hags. Terri pulls her dagger, Twee, and hanging off the edge of the carpet upside-down, she stabs a hag in the shoulder. “Too bad she saw me coming,” she laughs.
Four of the witches begin to cast again. Caerwyn and Terri manage to disrupt two spells, but the other two send out black circles of chill that grip everyone’s heart with the cold hand of death. No one dies, but all are left with the feeling of what lies ahead.
Suddenly chain lightening bolts spring from the hands of three more hags. Kalina takes one full in the chest, and Caerwyn takes the other two. The bolts ricochet between Kalina, Terri, Kel, Marja, Caerwyn and Lucre. The area crackles with the sound of electricity. The air smells of ozone, and everyone is lit with an eerie blue light. When the display ceases Marja is standing unscathed. Her dragon heritage has made her immune to electricity. The others are staggering, but everyone is still standing.
Caerwyn drops to his knees and sends up a fervent (as always) prayer to Corean asking for healing for himself. He doesn’t heal as much as he thought he would, and he doesn’t feel as strong a connection to his god. “He’s just busy,” thinks the unshakable paladin. He steps in and swings, hitting one hag four times. She drops to one knee holding her viscera inside her body with her bloodied hands.
Borin uses his helmet of teleport to appear on top of the spider and goes into a terrifying rage. All the hags are instantly frightened by the sight of the dwarf foaming at the mouth. “That’s our boy!” exclaims Marja. “It was worth the wait,” Kalina answers. The hags try to run, but are caught up in attacks. One dies and the others scurry away from the battlefield. Borin now turns to the spider and attacks it 5 times with a dire flail. A loud crack echoes over the battle chaos as the creature’s back breaks.
There is a moment of semi-calm. “Where’s Kira?” Lucre can see her. He hops down off of the dead spider and picks her small waif-like body up in his arms. Kel prepares for a true resurrection. His magic healing starts to break apart into motes of light. It’s not going to work. With all the resolution he has left he grabs at the lights, forces them back together and shoves them into Kira’s mouth. Kira opens her eyes, but Kel is drained. He can feel down deep inside himself and knows that he has nothing left. Corean will send no more healing through Kel’s hands.
The first words out of Kira’s mouth are not what they expected. “Holy crap! What is that?” All heads turn to follow her gaze. Something is cresting the horizon. It looks like a leg, but to be visible at this distance it must be enormous. It makes the legs of the dead spider lying beside them look like a normal spider next to a man. The appendage is swirling in blues and greens. It’s made of water, churning and roiling. It steps down, and even from this distance they can hear the sound. Rays of blue light spread out from the footstep and wash over the battlefield.
All magic is gone. Every magic item suddenly loses its luster. The spell casters and healers are powerless. Marja feels empty to the bottom of her soul. Still allowing herself a moment for reflection she remembers back to her youth when she fought against her magic with alcohol and sleep depravation. Now she feels a loss as great and as sudden as when she had heard her father’s bardic song wafting over the first strike of the battle, and just as abruptly, she heard it cease. Slow hot tears run silently down her cheeks.
Caerwyn waves his now ordinary sword before him, taking a step toward the colossus in the distance. “We have no need of paltry side-show tricks. Let us show them how Heroes fight.”
Now another leg steps across the horizon sending a wave of searing heat. The smell of burning flesh and singeing reaches their nostrils. Another leg – this one heaves and sickens as boils erupt across the land. Another leg – tentacles arise, snakes entwine. Another leg – covered in mouths. Great holes open up in the ground, and they can hear the sound of the earth chewing. Then another leg, and another and another until the spider of the Titans is completely visible on the horizon. Its eight legs meet in the middle, not of a body, but of a maelstrom!
Our intrepid band of adventures scans the battlefield around them. No one is left standing, no one but them. They are the only survivors to witness the end of the world.
With each step the creature covers dozens of miles, and soon the dim sun is blocked out completely as the full force of Titan might stands above them. A face appears in the maelstrom, laughing. “You should have stopped me,” it taunts in a voice that is vaguely familiar. “Maybe this time you will remember.” Whose voice is that? Cosette?
The end could not have taken more than a second, but Marja saw and noted it all. Borin, Kira, Lucre, Kel, Terri, Kalina and Fang, Caerwyn, and herself, not one at a time, but all together slip into the long sleep that is death. Just as they lose unconsciousness a tiny voice whispers over the mind link, “I’m so sorry.”
Flash!
*****************************************************
Terri’s body jerks to attention. Her convulsion alerts the man in whose pocket her hand had been reaching. “Hey, boy! What do you think you’re doing?” He grabs her, but she slips away and darts into the crowd. Back at the Temple of Enkili she drops to her knees at the main altar. What does this mean?
Kira is on her hands and knees on the floor in a tiny room in Vesh. A picture of her dead husband, the blueprints to a government building and a dagger are on the floor in front of her. She is sweating and shaking, and for a brief moment the horror of her vision overrides her anger. She scrambles back against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chin as she rocks quietly back and forth, crying.
Caerwyn’s head bolts upright from where he must have dozed off over his knitting. “A vision from most holy Corean!” he exclaims as he falls to his knees, the knitting needles still between his clutched hands. “Thank you!”
“What is up with you guys,” Deke scampers around the group looking agitated. Kenyan too is staring at the others. “You’ve been twitching and moaning for the past 5 minutes. We thought you were possessed by a demon or something. I was just about to kill you all. Luckily Brother Niall stopped me.” Deke tries to make a joke, but they can all see that he was really worried.
“I’ve been fighting bad dreams all my friggin’ life,” Marja sighs. She shudders to shake the vision away, but knows that those images will be with her until death. That thought causes another shudder. “Come on, Deke,” she says, mounting her horse and pulling the filcher up behind her. “Let’s head back to Treadle. Buy me a pitcher of ale and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“A pitcher or two would suit me just fine,” echoes Borin. He grabs his horse and is almost shocked to see the female elven hands that take the reins. Lucre stares up at Marja thinking that she’s about as tall mounted as she was in the vision, but doesn’t say anything about it. “Who were those other people, do you suppose?” Although Hooffall wasn’t a part of their vision, they all silently agree that getting away from it would somehow distance them from the grim glimpse of the future that only strong drink would pry from their lips.
Kel declines the journey. His soul is best put at ease through industry, helping Brother Niall begin to clean up the shrine. He promises to meet up with them in three days and gives a sullen wave as the others gallop away. If they hurry, they can reach Treadle by nightfall.
“All day long we have fought in twilight. All sense of time has been lost. Minutes stretch into hours, perhaps into days, and still they come. All around us explosions, cries, death. I am weary beyond all time. What brought the world to this? Was there some simple mistake made by some unimportant fool on a sunny day years ago? Could the misstep of one have led to this day, or was it the countless missteps of many over eons? Why do I feel like it’s all my fault?” Marja’s great and graceful form is fatigued to exhaustion. Even in the midst of all the noise and chaos she feels that it would be so easy just to lie down and sleep. “Just make it stop,” she thinks as torn wings slowly lower her to the ground, “I’m so tired.”
The hoards of Titan spawn have swept across the battlefield, swept across, over and around this weary, rag-tag band of friends. From the air Marja could see the hopelessness of the fight. The Titans were winning. Even the Calastian priests, so late to realize their folly in aiding the Titans, so late to join the battle, were all dead. In selfless heroics, the priests had drawn the demons to them, and at the last moment, when the swarm was at its thickest, they had destroyed themselves in magical blasts that took hundreds of lives, and now none were left. Marja had spotted but few remaining warriors from the races of the gods, and most were being crushed under the never-ending onslaught. “Many still hold their own,” Marja sends over the mind link, but no one really believes her.
Before them stands a giant spider as large as a two-story building. Each of its two black shiny eyes is as big as a dwarf, as big as one dwarf in particular who pushes his way to face the creature. Borin hurls a bead of force over 50 feet right into one of those eyes. They all duck. The explosion is barely audible over the roar of the battlefield. When they look back, the spider hasn’t moved. The bead had no effect on the massive creature.
A low, deep growling voice begins to chant. For the last time that day, the voice of the wolf calls into the hot wind, calling on what nature is left alive around him. Fang summons a swarm. From every direction around the spider ants, flies, wasps, fleas and maggots converge and attack.
Terri, visible for a brief moment, raises her hands to call a flame strike into being. The spark begins to form in her hands when suddenly it turns into a swarm of angry beads. Once again magic has gone awry. Everyone ducks to avoid the terrible glowing lights. One flies into Caerwyn’s pack. An explosion pushes him forward, but he manages to keep his feet. “What was it?” Terri calls. “Nothing of import,” answers Caerwyn stoically. How could he explain it anyway. They were knitting needles. He’d had them for almost all his life. He had only recently become aware of their true magic. Oh well, no sense crying over spilt milk.
“I’m going in,” Kira shouts over the mind link. “Oh, and I see 10 hags on its back. Thought you’d want to know.” She’s invisible so no one can gage her progress until suddenly the spider turns its head. Seven voices send out a warning, “It can see you.” But Kira already knows. She’s seen too much today to be ruffled by the crushing mouth of a giant spider. She stabs her dagger deep into its eye. The others can’t see Kira, but they can see the slash that appears.
Kel runs through his list of available spells, but realizing that two out of every three spells cast today seem to go bad, he opts for charging. He raises his great sword and lunges at the creature’s face despite its 15-foot reach. Before the creature can react, Kel has sliced completely through a mandible and is standing there gasping for breath and covered with ichor.
The spider lunges forward and bites Kel, then it pulls itself up onto all 8 legs and hurls itself onto the ground, on top of Kel. A tremor like an earthquake ripples through the ground. Fang is knocked prone. He begins to whimper as a wave of dust, dirt and body parts echo outward from the shock waves.
Marja hastes the group with a sigh of relief that the spell works and rises back into the air while Lucre rushes to Kel, still trapped under the body of the spider. Lucre opens a dimension door and pulls Kel to the rear of the spider.
Kalina turns three of the swarming wasps into giant vermin, but their colossal stingers seem to have no effect on the beast who ignores them completely. It turns and makes eye contact with Fang, Kira, Caerwyn and Marja. They all feel their hearts seize up in their chests. In the moment before they feel unconsciousness approaching they gasp for breath. Their hearts begin to beat once more. All, except Kira. Her presence over the mind link ceases. They can’t see her, but they know she is dead. The last to join their little band was the first to fall.
From the top of the spider two cones of rainbow-colored spray (prismatic) shoot toward Kel and Lucre. Kel sees the vision of a shimmering archway open up before him. He feels himself being drawn into a world of metal and flame. Huge creatures crack fiery whips as burned and destroyed people in chains trudge in endless drear. “No!” Kel screams. Through strength that he thought had left him hours ago, he holds himself back from the horrible vision. Lucre sees no such horror, but is badly burned with acid.
Kalina, Marja and Terri are suddenly falling – upwards! They crash 70 feet into the air and right themselves, upside down. Marja speaks the word, Kazmira, and her magic carpet unfurls from her pack. She instructs it to wait for Terri while she flies off toward the hags. Terri runs upside down to the edge of the reversed gravity area and jumps nimbly onto the carpet while Kalina turns herself into a wrack dragon and flies toward the hags spewing hot tar.
Another hag sends a shock wave across the group. Borin is knocked to the ground. Slowly he manages to pull himself to his feet, blood pouring from his ears. Poor Fang faired far worse. He is stunned and unable to move (for 7 rounds). Caerwyn manages to withstand the force. He activates his Boots of Zoom and flies toward a hag and manages to get off one small attack.
Kel opens his cubic gateway. It opens to a shining, beautiful, orderly world with happy people striding around with great purpose. One hag gets sucked in. He watches her scream and writhe with pain as she turns to ash before she even reaches the ground of this other world. Kel has barely a moment to grin as he feels something wet on his back. The spider shot an enormous web. Lucre was able to avoid it by pushing his body into the hairy, putrid side of the spider, but Kel, caught concentrating on his gateway, finds himself hopelessly stuck. In the front the spider claws at Caerwyn and jumps backwards in an attempt to crush Kel and Lucre. Again Lucre holds his breath and scrambles partway up the side of the beast, but Kel is helpless as the creature lands on top of him.
Lucre manifests Kel onto the spider’s back by whacking what he can see of Kel’s feet, then he attacks swinging his cousin’s great axe with force. The creature dodges his devastating critical, but gets hit in Lucre’s next three whirlwind attacks.
By now the flying carpet is hovering over the hags. Terri pulls her dagger, Twee, and hanging off the edge of the carpet upside-down, she stabs a hag in the shoulder. “Too bad she saw me coming,” she laughs.
Four of the witches begin to cast again. Caerwyn and Terri manage to disrupt two spells, but the other two send out black circles of chill that grip everyone’s heart with the cold hand of death. No one dies, but all are left with the feeling of what lies ahead.
Suddenly chain lightening bolts spring from the hands of three more hags. Kalina takes one full in the chest, and Caerwyn takes the other two. The bolts ricochet between Kalina, Terri, Kel, Marja, Caerwyn and Lucre. The area crackles with the sound of electricity. The air smells of ozone, and everyone is lit with an eerie blue light. When the display ceases Marja is standing unscathed. Her dragon heritage has made her immune to electricity. The others are staggering, but everyone is still standing.
Caerwyn drops to his knees and sends up a fervent (as always) prayer to Corean asking for healing for himself. He doesn’t heal as much as he thought he would, and he doesn’t feel as strong a connection to his god. “He’s just busy,” thinks the unshakable paladin. He steps in and swings, hitting one hag four times. She drops to one knee holding her viscera inside her body with her bloodied hands.
Borin uses his helmet of teleport to appear on top of the spider and goes into a terrifying rage. All the hags are instantly frightened by the sight of the dwarf foaming at the mouth. “That’s our boy!” exclaims Marja. “It was worth the wait,” Kalina answers. The hags try to run, but are caught up in attacks. One dies and the others scurry away from the battlefield. Borin now turns to the spider and attacks it 5 times with a dire flail. A loud crack echoes over the battle chaos as the creature’s back breaks.
There is a moment of semi-calm. “Where’s Kira?” Lucre can see her. He hops down off of the dead spider and picks her small waif-like body up in his arms. Kel prepares for a true resurrection. His magic healing starts to break apart into motes of light. It’s not going to work. With all the resolution he has left he grabs at the lights, forces them back together and shoves them into Kira’s mouth. Kira opens her eyes, but Kel is drained. He can feel down deep inside himself and knows that he has nothing left. Corean will send no more healing through Kel’s hands.
The first words out of Kira’s mouth are not what they expected. “Holy crap! What is that?” All heads turn to follow her gaze. Something is cresting the horizon. It looks like a leg, but to be visible at this distance it must be enormous. It makes the legs of the dead spider lying beside them look like a normal spider next to a man. The appendage is swirling in blues and greens. It’s made of water, churning and roiling. It steps down, and even from this distance they can hear the sound. Rays of blue light spread out from the footstep and wash over the battlefield.
All magic is gone. Every magic item suddenly loses its luster. The spell casters and healers are powerless. Marja feels empty to the bottom of her soul. Still allowing herself a moment for reflection she remembers back to her youth when she fought against her magic with alcohol and sleep depravation. Now she feels a loss as great and as sudden as when she had heard her father’s bardic song wafting over the first strike of the battle, and just as abruptly, she heard it cease. Slow hot tears run silently down her cheeks.
Caerwyn waves his now ordinary sword before him, taking a step toward the colossus in the distance. “We have no need of paltry side-show tricks. Let us show them how Heroes fight.”
Now another leg steps across the horizon sending a wave of searing heat. The smell of burning flesh and singeing reaches their nostrils. Another leg – this one heaves and sickens as boils erupt across the land. Another leg – tentacles arise, snakes entwine. Another leg – covered in mouths. Great holes open up in the ground, and they can hear the sound of the earth chewing. Then another leg, and another and another until the spider of the Titans is completely visible on the horizon. Its eight legs meet in the middle, not of a body, but of a maelstrom!
Our intrepid band of adventures scans the battlefield around them. No one is left standing, no one but them. They are the only survivors to witness the end of the world.
With each step the creature covers dozens of miles, and soon the dim sun is blocked out completely as the full force of Titan might stands above them. A face appears in the maelstrom, laughing. “You should have stopped me,” it taunts in a voice that is vaguely familiar. “Maybe this time you will remember.” Whose voice is that? Cosette?
The end could not have taken more than a second, but Marja saw and noted it all. Borin, Kira, Lucre, Kel, Terri, Kalina and Fang, Caerwyn, and herself, not one at a time, but all together slip into the long sleep that is death. Just as they lose unconsciousness a tiny voice whispers over the mind link, “I’m so sorry.”
Flash!
*****************************************************
Terri’s body jerks to attention. Her convulsion alerts the man in whose pocket her hand had been reaching. “Hey, boy! What do you think you’re doing?” He grabs her, but she slips away and darts into the crowd. Back at the Temple of Enkili she drops to her knees at the main altar. What does this mean?
Kira is on her hands and knees on the floor in a tiny room in Vesh. A picture of her dead husband, the blueprints to a government building and a dagger are on the floor in front of her. She is sweating and shaking, and for a brief moment the horror of her vision overrides her anger. She scrambles back against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chin as she rocks quietly back and forth, crying.
Caerwyn’s head bolts upright from where he must have dozed off over his knitting. “A vision from most holy Corean!” he exclaims as he falls to his knees, the knitting needles still between his clutched hands. “Thank you!”
“What is up with you guys,” Deke scampers around the group looking agitated. Kenyan too is staring at the others. “You’ve been twitching and moaning for the past 5 minutes. We thought you were possessed by a demon or something. I was just about to kill you all. Luckily Brother Niall stopped me.” Deke tries to make a joke, but they can all see that he was really worried.
“I’ve been fighting bad dreams all my friggin’ life,” Marja sighs. She shudders to shake the vision away, but knows that those images will be with her until death. That thought causes another shudder. “Come on, Deke,” she says, mounting her horse and pulling the filcher up behind her. “Let’s head back to Treadle. Buy me a pitcher of ale and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“A pitcher or two would suit me just fine,” echoes Borin. He grabs his horse and is almost shocked to see the female elven hands that take the reins. Lucre stares up at Marja thinking that she’s about as tall mounted as she was in the vision, but doesn’t say anything about it. “Who were those other people, do you suppose?” Although Hooffall wasn’t a part of their vision, they all silently agree that getting away from it would somehow distance them from the grim glimpse of the future that only strong drink would pry from their lips.
Kel declines the journey. His soul is best put at ease through industry, helping Brother Niall begin to clean up the shrine. He promises to meet up with them in three days and gives a sullen wave as the others gallop away. If they hurry, they can reach Treadle by nightfall.
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Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Kira Wakes Up
When Kira's vision focuses once again on the here and now, it is almost a
dissapointment. There in the battle, you were doing good. Even if you
failed, you were doing something. Not like right now, pestering and
beleaguring officials, and now breaking and entering. Losing at fighting evil
is different than failing to get an answer. And it's got to be better than
getting your ass pinched by yet one more fat guard captain or flunkey and
told "You go on home now, pretty little thing, and don't you worry your head
about your man. Girl like you'll find a new one right 'nuff." Kira sighs,
palms her picks, checks the dark cloth covering her hair, and concentrates
on the task at hand.
----------------------------------------------------
The break-in was a success, and not a success. You didn't get caught, which
is always to the positive, but neither did you find anything new. Even here
in Vesh. Especially here in Vesh, no one seems to care about a small but
steady trickle of guardsmen going to their deaths in Stonefell. And no one
seems to think there's anything unusual about the burns, the frozen limbs,
and the bodies that seem to be suffering from both at the same time. The
young Duke certainly didn't think it was more than a titan spawn attack. He
dispatched more guards. Which in turn made more widows like you.
But you have heard some rumors. There's supposed to be some newcomers in
town, working for some Lord or other, who take impossible jobs. Apparently
they take all the crazy missions no one else will touch. The bartender you
spoke to said they were willing to shed blood to answer tough questions, and
weren't afraid to step on toes. Actually, what he said was "They'll run
over toes, and never know they were there."
You have the address, tucked away next to the scrap of fabric they found in
Thomas' hand when they returned him to you. The fragment with the strange
markings on it. Until yesterday, until that dream, vision, whatever, you
couldn't identify the half figure embroidered there. Now it seems as clear
as Thomas' blue, blue eyes. It's a spider. The same one that flashed
before your eyes as you died.
When Kira's vision focuses once again on the here and now, it is almost a
dissapointment. There in the battle, you were doing good. Even if you
failed, you were doing something. Not like right now, pestering and
beleaguring officials, and now breaking and entering. Losing at fighting evil
is different than failing to get an answer. And it's got to be better than
getting your ass pinched by yet one more fat guard captain or flunkey and
told "You go on home now, pretty little thing, and don't you worry your head
about your man. Girl like you'll find a new one right 'nuff." Kira sighs,
palms her picks, checks the dark cloth covering her hair, and concentrates
on the task at hand.
----------------------------------------------------
The break-in was a success, and not a success. You didn't get caught, which
is always to the positive, but neither did you find anything new. Even here
in Vesh. Especially here in Vesh, no one seems to care about a small but
steady trickle of guardsmen going to their deaths in Stonefell. And no one
seems to think there's anything unusual about the burns, the frozen limbs,
and the bodies that seem to be suffering from both at the same time. The
young Duke certainly didn't think it was more than a titan spawn attack. He
dispatched more guards. Which in turn made more widows like you.
But you have heard some rumors. There's supposed to be some newcomers in
town, working for some Lord or other, who take impossible jobs. Apparently
they take all the crazy missions no one else will touch. The bartender you
spoke to said they were willing to shed blood to answer tough questions, and
weren't afraid to step on toes. Actually, what he said was "They'll run
over toes, and never know they were there."
You have the address, tucked away next to the scrap of fabric they found in
Thomas' hand when they returned him to you. The fragment with the strange
markings on it. Until yesterday, until that dream, vision, whatever, you
couldn't identify the half figure embroidered there. Now it seems as clear
as Thomas' blue, blue eyes. It's a spider. The same one that flashed
before your eyes as you died.
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Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Terri Heals a Filcher
Prayer, or at least several hours of it, brings Terri no relief. With bent
shoulders she trudges her way home through the dingy streets. She avoids
the pickpockets and cut-purses with the same unconscious competent grace
with which she dodges the chamber pots being emptied from third story
windows.
Her ears pick up an unusual noise, coming from down Knocktwice Alley. Not a
whisper, not a scrape of dagger, or even the muffled thud of a blow. Not
even the whimper of the mugging victim. More of a squeak. And the sheer
novelty of it causes her to turn and look.
There, huddled against the ubiquitous pile of rubble, is a furry bundle. A
filcher, Terri realizes. It's shaking badly, and is lying in a pool of what
looks like its own vomit. Terri has always liked filchers. Their sense of
mischief and love of play make them one of the few joyous creature in her
part of town. And so she steps closer. The filcher opens one bleary,
bloodshot eye, and looks at her. It's tiny, almost human hand extends a
scrap of paper to her.
Drawn on the paper, in a crude hand, is a crowned filcher, and a picture of
a house. Terri recognizes the design as looking like the warehouses in the
Merchant District, although she doesn't know the house shown. The tiny
filcher, a female, Terri realizes, reaches for her hand, and then doubles
over in a spasm of pain.
Neutralize Poison, that's the trick, Terri thinks, as she focuses her mind
on the prayer. Not even sure if the blessing will work on a non-human, she
feels Enkili's will move through her. And the little filcher takes a
shuddering, disbelieving breath, and then breathes freely.
After a moment, the young filcher stands, and takes Terri's hand. Waving
the scrap of paper in front of her, the creature tugs Terri's hand, and
begins to lead her through the streets. "What the hell." thinks Terri, "I'm
off to see the King of the Filchers."
Prayer, or at least several hours of it, brings Terri no relief. With bent
shoulders she trudges her way home through the dingy streets. She avoids
the pickpockets and cut-purses with the same unconscious competent grace
with which she dodges the chamber pots being emptied from third story
windows.
Her ears pick up an unusual noise, coming from down Knocktwice Alley. Not a
whisper, not a scrape of dagger, or even the muffled thud of a blow. Not
even the whimper of the mugging victim. More of a squeak. And the sheer
novelty of it causes her to turn and look.
There, huddled against the ubiquitous pile of rubble, is a furry bundle. A
filcher, Terri realizes. It's shaking badly, and is lying in a pool of what
looks like its own vomit. Terri has always liked filchers. Their sense of
mischief and love of play make them one of the few joyous creature in her
part of town. And so she steps closer. The filcher opens one bleary,
bloodshot eye, and looks at her. It's tiny, almost human hand extends a
scrap of paper to her.
Drawn on the paper, in a crude hand, is a crowned filcher, and a picture of
a house. Terri recognizes the design as looking like the warehouses in the
Merchant District, although she doesn't know the house shown. The tiny
filcher, a female, Terri realizes, reaches for her hand, and then doubles
over in a spasm of pain.
Neutralize Poison, that's the trick, Terri thinks, as she focuses her mind
on the prayer. Not even sure if the blessing will work on a non-human, she
feels Enkili's will move through her. And the little filcher takes a
shuddering, disbelieving breath, and then breathes freely.
After a moment, the young filcher stands, and takes Terri's hand. Waving
the scrap of paper in front of her, the creature tugs Terri's hand, and
begins to lead her through the streets. "What the hell." thinks Terri, "I'm
off to see the King of the Filchers."
Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Caerwyn Considers the Future
Knitting isn't helping. For perhaps the first time in his life, the
repetitious, soothing motion and the productive click-clack of the needles
is not soothing his mind.
Caerwyn thinks about his vision, and the people he saw in it. The enormous
dragon woman, the raving dwarf, the shapeshifter, the titan-touched. Their
names are not unknown to him. Naxos had mentioned this group to him over
sherry one day after a Paladin's Guild meeting. He spoke of the barbarian,
the flirt, the taciturn elf, the hostile fighter, the absent minded mage and
the monkey. He said they were chaotic, but well intentioned.
Naxos, in Caerwyn's opinion, is a little, er, rigid. A sense of humor, and
Maddy's ability to see the good in everyone would make him a better man.
Chaos in his companions doesn't worry Caerwyn so long as they have honor,
discipline and a desire to do and be good.
But the people he saw in his vision. They trouble him. Especially the
dragon woman and the titan-touched. Can such creatures, such beings, be
trusted? They fought for the side of the godly races in his vision, but
then, so did the Calastians. Are these to be his companions?
As his surrogate grandmother Maddy once said, what will be, will be.
Caerwyn turns his mind back to the purl pattern, and seeks the comfort of
Corean in the pattern, and the soothing grace of Madriel in the creation of
the wooly socks. The children at the orphanage need socks, not the troubles
of a fourth son. Caerwyn knits.
Knitting isn't helping. For perhaps the first time in his life, the
repetitious, soothing motion and the productive click-clack of the needles
is not soothing his mind.
Caerwyn thinks about his vision, and the people he saw in it. The enormous
dragon woman, the raving dwarf, the shapeshifter, the titan-touched. Their
names are not unknown to him. Naxos had mentioned this group to him over
sherry one day after a Paladin's Guild meeting. He spoke of the barbarian,
the flirt, the taciturn elf, the hostile fighter, the absent minded mage and
the monkey. He said they were chaotic, but well intentioned.
Naxos, in Caerwyn's opinion, is a little, er, rigid. A sense of humor, and
Maddy's ability to see the good in everyone would make him a better man.
Chaos in his companions doesn't worry Caerwyn so long as they have honor,
discipline and a desire to do and be good.
But the people he saw in his vision. They trouble him. Especially the
dragon woman and the titan-touched. Can such creatures, such beings, be
trusted? They fought for the side of the godly races in his vision, but
then, so did the Calastians. Are these to be his companions?
As his surrogate grandmother Maddy once said, what will be, will be.
Caerwyn turns his mind back to the purl pattern, and seeks the comfort of
Corean in the pattern, and the soothing grace of Madriel in the creation of
the wooly socks. The children at the orphanage need socks, not the troubles
of a fourth son. Caerwyn knits.
Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Kenyan's Farewell
Kenyon's player, who has already moved away from the area, was asked if Kenyon had anything to say about his departure from adventuring life. His reply was so funny, it had to be shared
----------------------------
"Well, my hearty companions!!, and Luker. This is where I must leave you and deny you the pleasure of my company, and the wisdom of my Leadership!! Please shed not a tear, I know this is a most heinous thing that I do, but the wind calls me and I must pay heed. Though you journey onward together, into lands unknown to most (except for me) I will always have mine ear to the wind, following your every move, I shall, in very subtle ways, be watching over you my friends. You have learned some small form of my expert battle tactics, the very same maneuvers that my Grandfather, the great titanspawn fighter himself, General Kenyan C. Bolton taught me. He told me a tale, whose truth I do not doubt for one instant, of a desperate fight against an entire army of titan spawn led by none other than the last great titan warlord Toped the terrible!! Well, was my Grandfather afraid? Yes, he was terrified, but he knew what had to be done. He gathered a small company of his best men, brave and battle hardened to the man, and led them forth on a charge to end the war once and for all!! Against Immense odds he used the brilliant flanking tactics that he invented himself, to route the enemy!! During the last minutes of the battle my Grandfather met his steel with that of the great Titan Warlord himself, they fought to a stalemate, neither giving quarter to the other! But his army defeated, the titan had nothing to do but retreat and concede victory to my grandfather. This, my friends, this is the legacy with which I leave you, remember well what I have taught you and you will live long, glorious and righteous Lives!! I know you may worry that my own spectacular feats may outshadow yours, but remember we fight not for glory, but for freedom against those that would take it from us!! Godspeed my children, may my Grandfathers spirit usher you to triumph!!!!"
*Salutes, turns smartly on his heals and strolls confidently into the crowd, acknowledging those who notice him*
Kenyon's player, who has already moved away from the area, was asked if Kenyon had anything to say about his departure from adventuring life. His reply was so funny, it had to be shared
----------------------------
"Well, my hearty companions!!, and Luker. This is where I must leave you and deny you the pleasure of my company, and the wisdom of my Leadership!! Please shed not a tear, I know this is a most heinous thing that I do, but the wind calls me and I must pay heed. Though you journey onward together, into lands unknown to most (except for me) I will always have mine ear to the wind, following your every move, I shall, in very subtle ways, be watching over you my friends. You have learned some small form of my expert battle tactics, the very same maneuvers that my Grandfather, the great titanspawn fighter himself, General Kenyan C. Bolton taught me. He told me a tale, whose truth I do not doubt for one instant, of a desperate fight against an entire army of titan spawn led by none other than the last great titan warlord Toped the terrible!! Well, was my Grandfather afraid? Yes, he was terrified, but he knew what had to be done. He gathered a small company of his best men, brave and battle hardened to the man, and led them forth on a charge to end the war once and for all!! Against Immense odds he used the brilliant flanking tactics that he invented himself, to route the enemy!! During the last minutes of the battle my Grandfather met his steel with that of the great Titan Warlord himself, they fought to a stalemate, neither giving quarter to the other! But his army defeated, the titan had nothing to do but retreat and concede victory to my grandfather. This, my friends, this is the legacy with which I leave you, remember well what I have taught you and you will live long, glorious and righteous Lives!! I know you may worry that my own spectacular feats may outshadow yours, but remember we fight not for glory, but for freedom against those that would take it from us!! Godspeed my children, may my Grandfathers spirit usher you to triumph!!!!"
*Salutes, turns smartly on his heals and strolls confidently into the crowd, acknowledging those who notice him*
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Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Meeting for the first time, again (run of 09-16-03, pt 1)
Back in Hooffall, Deke quickly loots every body and amasses the findings in small, organized piles. They decide to lay claim to any wealth found on the bodies of travelers, all other wealth will remain with the shrine to aid in the rebuilding. Brother Niall presents Kel with a cygnet ring that allows him to cast bless three times each day and a long sword named Mercy that allows the wielder to lay on hands once a day. They leave Kelly and Brother Niall to a night of prayer and manage to be safely ensconced in the tavern in Treadle by nightfall. Deke and Kenyan are relentless in their probing questions, but the others find it hard to concentrate. Slowly, after a hearty meal and several pitchers of ale, the story of their collective vision is retold. Who sent the vision is a mystery, but the lesson is clear: They made a big mistake when they let Lady Cosette Slaint slip through their grasp. That serpent-woman was collecting pieces of the body of Mormo with the intent of performing some sort of restoration ritual. If their vision proved true, she would succeed.
Before leaving Treadle the next morning they stop in to visit the aunt of the Brightwing sisters. Without much detail, they let her know that Hooffall had been taken over by a vampire, and her nieces’ deaths had been at his hands, but he was now destroyed and Hooffall restored.
Kel meets up with the others before noon, and they travel back to Vesh silently, but without incident.
Back in Vesh, Borin stops off at the Temple of Enkili to check in. The others head for home. They return to find an unobtrusive woman hiding in the back yard. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed her if not for the chittering filcher holding her hand.
Deke runs right up to them, “That another poisoned one?” he askes. The boyish woman in drab clothing hands Deke the paper with drawings of a filcher wearing a hat and the warehouse. “Hey, my business card.”
“Since when do you have business cards?” Marja wants to know. She frowns at the paper. “Have you been spreading these all over town?”
Kalina is staring intently at the woman, eyeing her brown cropped hair, brown eyes and olive skin. “Do I know you?” She asks tentatively. The question catches Marja’s attention who also looks the woman up and down. “You’re Terri,” she says.
“Yup,” the woman replies, “Who are you?”
“I’m Marja.”
“You’ve changed.”
“You mean I haven’t changed yet.” At this point Theo comes scurrying out of the house.
“I wasn’t expecting you today! Nothing’s prepared! I don’t even have groceries.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Marja soothes. “Just bring us out some ale. Can you whip up something simple for dinner? We’re hungry, but we’ll be satisfied with anything.” The tiny hafling darts back into the kitchen and reappears with mugs and pitchers of ale. Then they pull benches and chairs out into the yard and sit down to talk in the cool evening air. Lucre steals quietly up stairs to his room.
As the sun begins to set, and the air turns chill, Borin returns from the temple, and the group moves inside to warmth and dinner. Kenyan eats quickly and leaves for the pubs. He’s sure that with his new material he should be able to pick up a few permanent gigs. Deke and the little filcher, whom he says is called Kre Kre head out back to screech in filcher-tongue.
Marja realizes that Lucre hasn’t been with them all evening. She goes upstairs, but his door is closed. She knocks tentatively. Lucre hollers that he’ll be down in a minute, and Marja gives him his privacy.
When he finally wanders down stairs, he is wearing long sleeves, and he’s shivering. Although he denies that anything is wrong, Marja pushes until he finally shows the group his neck where he was gripped by the vampirette. He has large pulsating blue bruises. “I feel like I have a blockade between my mind and body,” he explains. “I think I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying,” buts in Terri. She’s pretty sure that a restoration will cure him, and she and Borin recommend that he come to the Temple of Enkili in the morning. Marja suggests that Lucre might prefer the Temple of Goran, and Lucre agrees to this.
Late in the evening Borin spots a head peeking in the window. “Hey you!” A bewildered, but pretty young woman steps inside. “I almost walked right by,” she says. “Too much monkey noise.”
“You’re Kira,” Borin remarks. “Terri’s here too. Sit down.” He closes the door and the shutters. Kira is skeptical until she steps into the light and recognizes Kalina and Lucre. “But you weren’t in the vision,” she points to Borin. “Yah, I was. I’m the other dwarf.”
Explanations on Borin’s elvish appearance always take longer than one might think. Questions from everyone pepper Marja, but she stays pretty tight-lipped about what might cause such a dramatic change in her appearance. As quickly as possible the group fills Terri and Kira in on their adventures with Lady Cossette Slaint and her plot to resurrect Mormo. All this conversation happens over a lovely egg dish whipped up quickly by Theo and finishes with Theo’s presentation of what he calls “cloud,” a snowy pudding with raspberry sauce.
Kira shows the group the little scrap of paper she found in her dead husband’s hands. Several patrols have been killed at Stonefell Duchy at the base of the Keldar Mountains. She hasn’t been able to get any satisfaction from anyone in Vesh. “The bartender at the Stuttering Monkey told me about you. He said you might help me. I didn’t realize that I already knew you.”
They decide they need to see Beltray tonight even though it is already ten o’clock. Borin, Marja, Kalina and Kel wander out in the lovely evening air and head toward his home. There is a long wait at the door, and the butler arrives in his dressing gown. “Has his lordship retired for the evening?” asks Marja. “No, madam, he is in the library as usual,” he answers in his typically disdainful attitude. Marja has to specifically ask to see Beltray before the butler steps aside and lets them in.
They quickly, but carefully tell him all the events of the last several weeks. He is astounded and occasionally leaps up to check through reference books commenting, “Oh my!” and “I’ve never seen…” and “How fascinating.”
They present him with the book of secret societies that they collected from the Hooffall library. He is enthralled, and they realize that they should have saved this book for the end because they have a great deal of trouble regaining his attention. He finally puts the book on his desk and sits across the room, but his eyes and attentions wander over to it frequently.
Finally, they get around to the point. Does he have another mission for them? When he tells them he has nothing at present, they explain Kira’s story and Cossette’s. They want to investigate Stonefell and then spend their time finding Cossette and putting an end to her plan once and for all.
Lord Beltray agrees, but then falters with his next words. Clearly he has some sort of bad news. “You see,” he stammers. “The Vigil Council, in their infinite wisdom, and infinite distrust, would like to put another Vigil among you.” He looks embarrassed. “I have every faith in you all, of course,” he almost blurts the words.
“Would the new recruit happen to be Caerwyn Ap Bunholm?” asks Marja. Beltray looks shocked. She reminds him again about their communal vision. “He was in it, too,” she explains.
“And two others,” Boran adds. “We’d like them to join the group if it’s ok with you.” They then tell Beltray that Deke and Kenyan would like to go their own paths. The vigil life just doesn’t suit a filcher and a bard. Beltray goes to his cabinet and picks up a silver globe. He runs his fingers over its surface. Borin feels a tingle on his arm where his invisible tattoo is. “No,” murmurs Beltray. His fingers move along the sphere. “Ah, there’s something monkeyish.” He finds Kenyan’s spot as well. “Their tattoos have been removed. Bring the others here in the morning, and we’ll talk more about this.”
Back at the warehouse they ask Terri and Kira to join them in the morning. Terri shrugs, “Sure. I’ll meet your hermetic boss.” Kira is less convinced that they aren’t wasting time. “I thought I was leading this group to Stonefell!”
“Leading?” Marja arches one eyebrow. “Meow,” whispers Kalina in her ear. “Whatever,” Marja says as she turns to go up stairs. “If you’re in, you’re in at Beltray’s in the morning.”
They get up early and take Lucre to the Temple of Goran. A dwarven cleric taps Lucre’s neck with tiny silver hammers while he chants. With each tap the vibrations travel through Lucre’s body, and his energy returns. Suddenly, he feels sick and throws up negative energy bile. Fully restored, he sends a prayer of thanks to Goran.
Borin insists on paying the cleric for his cousin. Lucre is grateful and tells the cleric, “He is a proper dwarf, a block of adamantite with a mithral center.” “She looks a little elfy to me,” the cleric grumbles and leaves them at the door.
Everyone shows up right on time at Lord Beltray’s home in the morning. They are again led into the library by a more appropriately dressed butler. A tall, wiry man who is seated in a straight-backed chair immediately rises to attention. He is wearing a velvet doublet and silk shirt. He wears no jewelry, but his boots, bracers and other equipment is expensive, polished and highly adorned.
Borin introduces Kira and Terri to Lord Beltray, and before Beltray can turn to introduce the young man, Borin nods curtly. “Caerwyn, hello.” Beltray is flustered that the group seems to know the paladin. Caerwyn raises one eyebrow, studying Borin. “Do I know you, madam?”
“It’s Borin, Caerwyn,” answers Lucre striding forward to shake his hand. Caerwyn is confused. He of course remembers Borin as a dward, not an elf, but he is more concerned about being touched by the one with the blood-taint. He openly detects evil. Lucre is taken aback by the rudeness. Marja develops an instant dislike for this pompous twit who’s been sent to spy on them. She knows that in the vision he was a trustworthy companion and even a friend, but in her typical way, she disregards all that. Now she knows how Xenia must have felt when she first met Naxos. They all sit down, Caerwyn last of all. Periodically, Marja rises to straighten her trousers or pout tea each time seeing if Caerwyn will rise also, as his breeding would require. He doesn’t and each time asks if she requires assistance. Drat! He knows she’s trying to make fun of him.
They talk briefly of the vision informing Caerwyn of their encounter with Cossette. “Surely the vision was a warning not a prophecy,” Caerwyn concludes, “for the Champion will not fail.” A memory flashes through Marja’s mind, “Let us show them how Heroes fight.” She remembered being inspired by his faith and bravery then. She pouts silently. “I’m still not going to like you,” she thinks.
Kira tells Beltray and Caerwyn of her troubles. Her husband died in the service of the Duke of Stonefell. Someone seems to be hiding something. She’s spoken to a few bookies who acknowledge that money has been passing to the commanders of the guards who, it seems, in return do not question the many deaths of their men.
Beltray agrees to their taking up Kira’s quest. He pulls out a map of Stonefell. The Duke there is middle-aged, in his 40s. His father died not many years before at the age of 87. The current Duke is spoiled and prone to expensive habits. His mother died when he was very young. His father’s second wife was indulgent and soft on him. Otherwise, Beltray doesn’t know much. He’s quite scandalized that a royal might be hiding something sinister, or would be so unaware of his own duchy that misdeeds could happen under his own nose. He feels strongly that they should uncover what is going on and follow it to its highest source.
That afternoon Marja and Kalina take Terri and Kira to the salon. It takes a lot of convincing to get Terri to go in. Finally, they allow her to sneak around back and climb in through a window. While Terri and Kira are getting their Vigil tattoos, Marja and Kalina indulge in more mundane pampering. Afterwards Terri and Kira go each to their own place to pack and prepare. Kalina takes Fang out of town to a nearby wood to make a shrine to Denev and pray. Marja travels through the bazaars to a small, but upscale clothing merchant and purchases a fine dress and jewelry. “You never know if someone will need to make an appearance at court, and I’m sure as hell not letting Caerwyn go alone.”
Meanwhile, the men practice sparring at the warehouse. Lucre challenges Caerwyn to a race “to the best of our abilities.” Caerwyn agrees, and since Lucre didn’t specifically mention a foot race, quickly summons his steed. “You did say to the best of our abilities, didn’t you?”
They decide on the end mark and set Deke and Theo up to watch. The two line up, and Borin stands between them calling out, “On your mark. Get ready. Go!” In a flash Lucre is gone. Caerwyn spurs his horse. In an equally deft and quick move, Borin spins and grabs Caerwyn’s horse by the tail as it flashes past. His dwarven strength pulls the horse almost to a stop before Caerwyn swings around and pushes him away.
Still Caerwyn wins by a nose, but he is outraged. “You cheated!” he shouts at Borin. “I dunno,” answers Borin. “You said to the best of your abilities, and one of a dwarf’s strengths is the ability to call on his clan in times of need.”
“Don’t be a sore winner,” chastises Deke, and that ends the conversation.
The next morning they set off on horseback on the well-traveled road to Stonefell’s main town, Riva. As they near the Keldar Mountains, Caerwyn, Borin and Kel hear a struggle 100 yards ahead. “To arms!” shouts Caerwyn and charges forward.
“Is he going to say crap like that all the time?” Marja asks Kel, “because it’s pretty annoying.” “It won’t be so annoying when his quick calls to action save your life,” Kel answers wisely as he also spurs his horse forward. Marja sighs. “I still don’t have to like him,” she mutters under her breath.
Back in Hooffall, Deke quickly loots every body and amasses the findings in small, organized piles. They decide to lay claim to any wealth found on the bodies of travelers, all other wealth will remain with the shrine to aid in the rebuilding. Brother Niall presents Kel with a cygnet ring that allows him to cast bless three times each day and a long sword named Mercy that allows the wielder to lay on hands once a day. They leave Kelly and Brother Niall to a night of prayer and manage to be safely ensconced in the tavern in Treadle by nightfall. Deke and Kenyan are relentless in their probing questions, but the others find it hard to concentrate. Slowly, after a hearty meal and several pitchers of ale, the story of their collective vision is retold. Who sent the vision is a mystery, but the lesson is clear: They made a big mistake when they let Lady Cosette Slaint slip through their grasp. That serpent-woman was collecting pieces of the body of Mormo with the intent of performing some sort of restoration ritual. If their vision proved true, she would succeed.
Before leaving Treadle the next morning they stop in to visit the aunt of the Brightwing sisters. Without much detail, they let her know that Hooffall had been taken over by a vampire, and her nieces’ deaths had been at his hands, but he was now destroyed and Hooffall restored.
Kel meets up with the others before noon, and they travel back to Vesh silently, but without incident.
Back in Vesh, Borin stops off at the Temple of Enkili to check in. The others head for home. They return to find an unobtrusive woman hiding in the back yard. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed her if not for the chittering filcher holding her hand.
Deke runs right up to them, “That another poisoned one?” he askes. The boyish woman in drab clothing hands Deke the paper with drawings of a filcher wearing a hat and the warehouse. “Hey, my business card.”
“Since when do you have business cards?” Marja wants to know. She frowns at the paper. “Have you been spreading these all over town?”
Kalina is staring intently at the woman, eyeing her brown cropped hair, brown eyes and olive skin. “Do I know you?” She asks tentatively. The question catches Marja’s attention who also looks the woman up and down. “You’re Terri,” she says.
“Yup,” the woman replies, “Who are you?”
“I’m Marja.”
“You’ve changed.”
“You mean I haven’t changed yet.” At this point Theo comes scurrying out of the house.
“I wasn’t expecting you today! Nothing’s prepared! I don’t even have groceries.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Marja soothes. “Just bring us out some ale. Can you whip up something simple for dinner? We’re hungry, but we’ll be satisfied with anything.” The tiny hafling darts back into the kitchen and reappears with mugs and pitchers of ale. Then they pull benches and chairs out into the yard and sit down to talk in the cool evening air. Lucre steals quietly up stairs to his room.
As the sun begins to set, and the air turns chill, Borin returns from the temple, and the group moves inside to warmth and dinner. Kenyan eats quickly and leaves for the pubs. He’s sure that with his new material he should be able to pick up a few permanent gigs. Deke and the little filcher, whom he says is called Kre Kre head out back to screech in filcher-tongue.
Marja realizes that Lucre hasn’t been with them all evening. She goes upstairs, but his door is closed. She knocks tentatively. Lucre hollers that he’ll be down in a minute, and Marja gives him his privacy.
When he finally wanders down stairs, he is wearing long sleeves, and he’s shivering. Although he denies that anything is wrong, Marja pushes until he finally shows the group his neck where he was gripped by the vampirette. He has large pulsating blue bruises. “I feel like I have a blockade between my mind and body,” he explains. “I think I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying,” buts in Terri. She’s pretty sure that a restoration will cure him, and she and Borin recommend that he come to the Temple of Enkili in the morning. Marja suggests that Lucre might prefer the Temple of Goran, and Lucre agrees to this.
Late in the evening Borin spots a head peeking in the window. “Hey you!” A bewildered, but pretty young woman steps inside. “I almost walked right by,” she says. “Too much monkey noise.”
“You’re Kira,” Borin remarks. “Terri’s here too. Sit down.” He closes the door and the shutters. Kira is skeptical until she steps into the light and recognizes Kalina and Lucre. “But you weren’t in the vision,” she points to Borin. “Yah, I was. I’m the other dwarf.”
Explanations on Borin’s elvish appearance always take longer than one might think. Questions from everyone pepper Marja, but she stays pretty tight-lipped about what might cause such a dramatic change in her appearance. As quickly as possible the group fills Terri and Kira in on their adventures with Lady Cossette Slaint and her plot to resurrect Mormo. All this conversation happens over a lovely egg dish whipped up quickly by Theo and finishes with Theo’s presentation of what he calls “cloud,” a snowy pudding with raspberry sauce.
Kira shows the group the little scrap of paper she found in her dead husband’s hands. Several patrols have been killed at Stonefell Duchy at the base of the Keldar Mountains. She hasn’t been able to get any satisfaction from anyone in Vesh. “The bartender at the Stuttering Monkey told me about you. He said you might help me. I didn’t realize that I already knew you.”
They decide they need to see Beltray tonight even though it is already ten o’clock. Borin, Marja, Kalina and Kel wander out in the lovely evening air and head toward his home. There is a long wait at the door, and the butler arrives in his dressing gown. “Has his lordship retired for the evening?” asks Marja. “No, madam, he is in the library as usual,” he answers in his typically disdainful attitude. Marja has to specifically ask to see Beltray before the butler steps aside and lets them in.
They quickly, but carefully tell him all the events of the last several weeks. He is astounded and occasionally leaps up to check through reference books commenting, “Oh my!” and “I’ve never seen…” and “How fascinating.”
They present him with the book of secret societies that they collected from the Hooffall library. He is enthralled, and they realize that they should have saved this book for the end because they have a great deal of trouble regaining his attention. He finally puts the book on his desk and sits across the room, but his eyes and attentions wander over to it frequently.
Finally, they get around to the point. Does he have another mission for them? When he tells them he has nothing at present, they explain Kira’s story and Cossette’s. They want to investigate Stonefell and then spend their time finding Cossette and putting an end to her plan once and for all.
Lord Beltray agrees, but then falters with his next words. Clearly he has some sort of bad news. “You see,” he stammers. “The Vigil Council, in their infinite wisdom, and infinite distrust, would like to put another Vigil among you.” He looks embarrassed. “I have every faith in you all, of course,” he almost blurts the words.
“Would the new recruit happen to be Caerwyn Ap Bunholm?” asks Marja. Beltray looks shocked. She reminds him again about their communal vision. “He was in it, too,” she explains.
“And two others,” Boran adds. “We’d like them to join the group if it’s ok with you.” They then tell Beltray that Deke and Kenyan would like to go their own paths. The vigil life just doesn’t suit a filcher and a bard. Beltray goes to his cabinet and picks up a silver globe. He runs his fingers over its surface. Borin feels a tingle on his arm where his invisible tattoo is. “No,” murmurs Beltray. His fingers move along the sphere. “Ah, there’s something monkeyish.” He finds Kenyan’s spot as well. “Their tattoos have been removed. Bring the others here in the morning, and we’ll talk more about this.”
Back at the warehouse they ask Terri and Kira to join them in the morning. Terri shrugs, “Sure. I’ll meet your hermetic boss.” Kira is less convinced that they aren’t wasting time. “I thought I was leading this group to Stonefell!”
“Leading?” Marja arches one eyebrow. “Meow,” whispers Kalina in her ear. “Whatever,” Marja says as she turns to go up stairs. “If you’re in, you’re in at Beltray’s in the morning.”
They get up early and take Lucre to the Temple of Goran. A dwarven cleric taps Lucre’s neck with tiny silver hammers while he chants. With each tap the vibrations travel through Lucre’s body, and his energy returns. Suddenly, he feels sick and throws up negative energy bile. Fully restored, he sends a prayer of thanks to Goran.
Borin insists on paying the cleric for his cousin. Lucre is grateful and tells the cleric, “He is a proper dwarf, a block of adamantite with a mithral center.” “She looks a little elfy to me,” the cleric grumbles and leaves them at the door.
Everyone shows up right on time at Lord Beltray’s home in the morning. They are again led into the library by a more appropriately dressed butler. A tall, wiry man who is seated in a straight-backed chair immediately rises to attention. He is wearing a velvet doublet and silk shirt. He wears no jewelry, but his boots, bracers and other equipment is expensive, polished and highly adorned.
Borin introduces Kira and Terri to Lord Beltray, and before Beltray can turn to introduce the young man, Borin nods curtly. “Caerwyn, hello.” Beltray is flustered that the group seems to know the paladin. Caerwyn raises one eyebrow, studying Borin. “Do I know you, madam?”
“It’s Borin, Caerwyn,” answers Lucre striding forward to shake his hand. Caerwyn is confused. He of course remembers Borin as a dward, not an elf, but he is more concerned about being touched by the one with the blood-taint. He openly detects evil. Lucre is taken aback by the rudeness. Marja develops an instant dislike for this pompous twit who’s been sent to spy on them. She knows that in the vision he was a trustworthy companion and even a friend, but in her typical way, she disregards all that. Now she knows how Xenia must have felt when she first met Naxos. They all sit down, Caerwyn last of all. Periodically, Marja rises to straighten her trousers or pout tea each time seeing if Caerwyn will rise also, as his breeding would require. He doesn’t and each time asks if she requires assistance. Drat! He knows she’s trying to make fun of him.
They talk briefly of the vision informing Caerwyn of their encounter with Cossette. “Surely the vision was a warning not a prophecy,” Caerwyn concludes, “for the Champion will not fail.” A memory flashes through Marja’s mind, “Let us show them how Heroes fight.” She remembered being inspired by his faith and bravery then. She pouts silently. “I’m still not going to like you,” she thinks.
Kira tells Beltray and Caerwyn of her troubles. Her husband died in the service of the Duke of Stonefell. Someone seems to be hiding something. She’s spoken to a few bookies who acknowledge that money has been passing to the commanders of the guards who, it seems, in return do not question the many deaths of their men.
Beltray agrees to their taking up Kira’s quest. He pulls out a map of Stonefell. The Duke there is middle-aged, in his 40s. His father died not many years before at the age of 87. The current Duke is spoiled and prone to expensive habits. His mother died when he was very young. His father’s second wife was indulgent and soft on him. Otherwise, Beltray doesn’t know much. He’s quite scandalized that a royal might be hiding something sinister, or would be so unaware of his own duchy that misdeeds could happen under his own nose. He feels strongly that they should uncover what is going on and follow it to its highest source.
That afternoon Marja and Kalina take Terri and Kira to the salon. It takes a lot of convincing to get Terri to go in. Finally, they allow her to sneak around back and climb in through a window. While Terri and Kira are getting their Vigil tattoos, Marja and Kalina indulge in more mundane pampering. Afterwards Terri and Kira go each to their own place to pack and prepare. Kalina takes Fang out of town to a nearby wood to make a shrine to Denev and pray. Marja travels through the bazaars to a small, but upscale clothing merchant and purchases a fine dress and jewelry. “You never know if someone will need to make an appearance at court, and I’m sure as hell not letting Caerwyn go alone.”
Meanwhile, the men practice sparring at the warehouse. Lucre challenges Caerwyn to a race “to the best of our abilities.” Caerwyn agrees, and since Lucre didn’t specifically mention a foot race, quickly summons his steed. “You did say to the best of our abilities, didn’t you?”
They decide on the end mark and set Deke and Theo up to watch. The two line up, and Borin stands between them calling out, “On your mark. Get ready. Go!” In a flash Lucre is gone. Caerwyn spurs his horse. In an equally deft and quick move, Borin spins and grabs Caerwyn’s horse by the tail as it flashes past. His dwarven strength pulls the horse almost to a stop before Caerwyn swings around and pushes him away.
Still Caerwyn wins by a nose, but he is outraged. “You cheated!” he shouts at Borin. “I dunno,” answers Borin. “You said to the best of your abilities, and one of a dwarf’s strengths is the ability to call on his clan in times of need.”
“Don’t be a sore winner,” chastises Deke, and that ends the conversation.
The next morning they set off on horseback on the well-traveled road to Stonefell’s main town, Riva. As they near the Keldar Mountains, Caerwyn, Borin and Kel hear a struggle 100 yards ahead. “To arms!” shouts Caerwyn and charges forward.
“Is he going to say crap like that all the time?” Marja asks Kel, “because it’s pretty annoying.” “It won’t be so annoying when his quick calls to action save your life,” Kel answers wisely as he also spurs his horse forward. Marja sighs. “I still don’t have to like him,” she mutters under her breath.
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