Maissen: Shades of Grey [UPDATE 12/12, post 199]
Beale Knight
First Post
Babrack and Moving On
The Heroes awoke to find the town ankle deep in water. They exchanged embarresed glances. “So the cavern wasn’t as endless as we expected,” Aneirin said. “Town’s getting a good clean though,” Ren added.
As they slogged through the flooded streets, they were met with a galaxy of reactions. Some of the town’s folks were angry at this new problem, other laughed at the absurdity of it. A few threw out good natured comments about washing out the town, and how they could get water enough from the wells, they didn’t need it delivered by the mountain. Whatever the comment, there was one common aspect.
“They aren’t looking at us so reverently anymore,” Bessie said with a smile. “We’re people now, not icons.”
Ren laughed. “One big fat mistake’ll do that I guess.”
The Heroes met Jon at the gate and took a look at the situation from the top of the wall. “Well there’s nothing for it,” Aneirin said. “We can’t go back and open the valve up again. The controls are certainly deep under water.” He thought for a minute, looking the area over like a battlefield. “We’ll have to shunt it to the ditch, let it flow out to sea,” he said.
That full day was spent digging, extending the town’s partial defensive ditch to meet the ever flowing stream. To their credit, all four Heroes took their time with a shovel, which went a long way to stifling the grumbling that some of the town folks were still doing. Then at last the deed was done, and the water was flowing out to sea instead of into the town. There was still some grumbling about the clean up left to do, but most realized that the flood was proof positive that the temple was cleaned out (so to speak) and there would be no more raids from lizard men.
The next evening the town threw a huge feast for the Heroes. Virtually everyone in the town turned out to the freshly cleaned town square for the huge event, and most of them brought gifts, pressed flowers, little carvings, handfuls of spice, small steins of beer, and much, much more.
Then during a lull in the festivities, a man strode out to the town square, a war hammer slung over his shoulder. “I am Babrack. My wife and my child were killed during the raids this past week. You have avenged them, now I would serve you. I would go out with you when you leave tomorrow and serve you as a man-at-arms.”
The Heroes, shocked, looked at each other before turning back to the man before them. He was big certainly, and stood with a warrior’s stance, but they wondered if he really knew what he was offering to do.
“You ought to know that we may well never come back here,” Bessie said.
Babrack nodded. “There is nothing to hold me here. If I return or not, I am content.”
“We’re going off into the wild, and there’s probably going to be a lot of things out there that want to eat us,” Ren cautioned.
Again Babrack nodded. “I have faced things here recently that wanted to eat me. I do not fear facing others.”
Aneirin turned to Jon. “Can you vouch for his prowess?”
The new captain of the guard nodded. “He’s a strong fighter and knows how to handle his warhammer. I didn’t know he wanted to leave us though. I had him in mind for a sergeant.”
Babrack smiled. “There then. Will you have me as your companion?”
Ren and Bessie nodded. Aneirin said, “So long as you understand the risks, I welcome you.”
Beside them, Dumb Bear stood. “I test,” he said. The big elf dropped his flail and hide armor and flexed before Babrack.
The Town warrior looked from Dumb Bear to the other Heroes. They all smiled and nodded. “We all got to ask you stuff,” Ren said. “Now he wants to – but he doesn’t know the language so well.”
Bessie grinned. “So he’s asking in the universal.”
Babrack sighed. He dropped his warhammer and stripped his leathers off. Dumb Bear led the way to a space in the square free of food and revelers, where he and Babrack faced off. Ren started counting as Dumb Bear charged. Babrack dodge the charge but his punch missed the elf. He tried to tackle Dumb Bear next, but the elf evaded the effort. The two went back and forth like that, each evading the others attempt to grapple for nearly a thirty count before Dumb Bear finally pinned Babrack. The elf then stood and nodded. “Good. Keep.”
That settled it. Groaning, Babrack rose and joined the three Maisseners and the elf for the rest of the feast. The next morning he met them at the square, fully armored and leading a mule. “My other contribution,” he said proudly. The new mount was immediately laden with the weighty tapestries looted from the temple, as well as the various supplies the Heroes had gathered for their trek. The red velvet, rug, and other two tapestries remained in town. Babrack rode Scout, the horse Ren had adopted from Hilltopple house, and the Heroes set up the mountain trail and off into the wild, their goal – the wizard city of UrZin.
Heading west, they were soon in the high foot hills of the great mountains. That afternoon, with the drake temple well behind them, they started seeing ruins. Tall columns and arches that certainly predated Maissen. Some were along the trail, some off it, but there was no indication of who built them or why. With no compelling reason to investigate, the Heroes carried on.
That night they heard deep, guttural growls from deep in the woods. They spent the night on double watches, letting Barbrack to sleep through, but never saw any sign of what animal made the noise. Not until the late the next morning.
Riding a little ahead, Ren saw the signs first. He halted and waved the others to him. “Tracks,” he said when they were close enough to hear. “Big ones.”
“They look like a cat,” Bessie said, “but they’re too large for even the biggest of them.”
“Dragonne?” Aneirin asked. “We know the lair in these mountains.”
Ren shuddered. “Maybe. But I hope if it is one, we see it from as far away as we saw the last one.”
Hyper alert for monsters now, the party set off again. They saw no more evidence of monsters, but that afternoon Ren spotted something more unexpected. He came to a stop and stared, unsure if he should trust his eyes.
“What is it?” Bessie asked as she rode up.
Ren pointed to the north. “There. Tell if you don’t see a castle.”
The druid followed his point to a spit extending onto a small lake, and nodded, as did Aneirin and Babrack.
“It is a castle,” Aneirin said. “Part of one anyway. There’s the keep, a set of towers, and they’ve got a few walls up. Probably a ruin.” A moment later he added. “We should go take a closer look.”
Bessie nodded. “It may have something to do with those ruins we passed yesterday.”
Ren studied the distance. “Shouldn’t take a couple hours to get to it. Might as well. At least they’ll give us shelter for the night once we get there.”
They left the trail and rode toward the incomplete castle. As they got closer sounds of activity reached their ears.
“That’s construction!” Aneirin said, excitement in his voice.
“Amazing,” Ren said. “Who’d build a castle out in the middle of nowhere?”
As the afternoon began to wane, the Heroes found a path leading around the lake. Riding openly and slowly on it, the were soon noticed by the castle inhabitants. Pikes appeared along the walls and where a gate house was under construction.
“Fast with the weapons,” Bessie said.
Ren nodded. “They’ve got reason to be, they do,” he said, pointing over to the right. “Look at the ground over there. A line of stomped down ground.”
Bessie gasped at the tell-tale sign. “Chakta! Less than a half mile from the keep. No wonder then.”
They continued to round the lake and soon rode up the spit toward the keep. Pikemen piled out of the incomplete castle and formed up in three rows where the spit opened up. Halfway down the spit, Aneirin called for the Maisseners to halt. “Better to show them we’re not hostile.”
A short, wide-shouldered man stepped forward from the ranks of pikemen. “State your name and you intentions,” he shouted.
“We are travelers from Maissen,” Bessie yelled back.
Before she could say more, the sergeant repeated her last word. “Maissen? Approach, but slowly if you please.” He turned and said something the Maisseners couldn’t hear, then one of the pikemen dashed back to the castle. The sergeant barked an order and the pikemen relaxed their stance, but still kept their hands on their pikes.
The sergeant walked up and met the Heroes at the end of the spit. “My lord will certainly want to speak with you,” he said, eyes going up and down each in turn. He looked about to speak when the pikemen behind him parted. A tall man with a full dark beard rushed up. “Are you Heroes of Maissen,” he asked.
“Indeed,” Bessie said. She introduced the others, and each showed their badge in turn.
The lord of the castle smiled and produced a similar badge. “I an Ungri,” he said, “and you are welcome in my keep.”
Unrgi was true to his word, making the Heroes welcome in all ways. Their mounts were tended to and a dinner was prepared. Through the pleasant evening they all exchanged stories, and like everyone else who heard it, Ungri was fascinated by Aneirin’s tale. Ungri explained that he had been a hero, and then spend many years as an agent of the church, a path he recommended. Eventually though he decided to try his hand in forging a settlement, and so here he was. All had gone well for him, he generally ignored the communalists of the Town the new Heroes had just left, signed a non-aggression pact with the wizards of UrZin (who had otherwise generally ignored him), and tried without success to befriend a Maissen sorcerer that had started his own keep further west, close UrZin. The most excitement he’d had recently was the Chakta. “Seven years with no sign of them, and days ago a hoard moved through,” he said.
His countrymen told him of the traitorous actions of the redbreasts, and got an unexpected bit of information. “In red, you say? That would be the work of Cocrus the Red.” Ungri went on to explain the Cocrus was one of an ever expanding list of Maissenian wizards, one not to be trusted, and one tolerated by the Council for delicate political reasons. Political talk dominated the rest of the evening. Angri explained why he sees the nature of the Maissen government as the best way of governing under the circumstances, that while survival is not so much an issue, Maissen is still a society under threat. That to him justified the secrecy regarding the wider world, the outlawing of wizards on the one hand while sheltering them on the other, the use of “heroes”, and keeping the average citizen within the bounds of the country. To the newer Heroes, Ren especially, it was all unconvincing.
Ungri was most helpful informing them of the geography that awaited them to the west. The mountain trail was the safest, “keep to the stone and the giants will not bother you,” he said. Ungri explained that there was a pact between the giants and dwarves, and should the former cross into the mountains there would be war. The ruins the party had seen were markers of ancient entries into the dwarf tunnels under the mountain. There were three entries on the northern face of the mountains, though they had all fallen into disuse.
“There’s still one that’s still used from time to time,” Bessie said, briefly telling of the party’s aborted plans to travel north under the mountain.
The next morning Ungri presented them with a sealed scroll, a letter to his mother in Ballos, and asked if the New Heroes would deliver it. THey happily agreed and waved off his offer of payment. As they left, Ungri gave them a final word of advise, “Make for the Temple of the Crow, it is a fine place to shelter for the night.”
Clouds were already gathering as the Heroes left Angri’s keep. By the time they made it back to the mountain trail it was overcast, and heavy rain soon began to fall. The rain apparently drove any threats to shelter, for they had the trail and day to ourselves.
Almost.
Around what they estimated to be noon Bessie called out, “There. Look up.”
The others looked up in time to spot a shadowy figure in the sky. It flew like it didn’t really know how, and growled the same guttural growl the party had heard two nights earlier.
“What is that?” Aneirin asked.
“Too far,” Dumb Bear said. “Clouds make seeing hard.”
“Probably a good thing,” Ren said. “Maybe it can’t see us either, and if it IS a dragonne that’s a good thing for sure.”
“Think we’ll be lucky enough to not see it again?” Bessie asked.
Aneirin snorted. “Us? We’ve been lucky for too many days in a row now.”
Next: Unlucky at the Temple of the Crow
Soon: Sorcerer’s Keep ; UrZin
The Heroes awoke to find the town ankle deep in water. They exchanged embarresed glances. “So the cavern wasn’t as endless as we expected,” Aneirin said. “Town’s getting a good clean though,” Ren added.
As they slogged through the flooded streets, they were met with a galaxy of reactions. Some of the town’s folks were angry at this new problem, other laughed at the absurdity of it. A few threw out good natured comments about washing out the town, and how they could get water enough from the wells, they didn’t need it delivered by the mountain. Whatever the comment, there was one common aspect.
“They aren’t looking at us so reverently anymore,” Bessie said with a smile. “We’re people now, not icons.”
Ren laughed. “One big fat mistake’ll do that I guess.”
The Heroes met Jon at the gate and took a look at the situation from the top of the wall. “Well there’s nothing for it,” Aneirin said. “We can’t go back and open the valve up again. The controls are certainly deep under water.” He thought for a minute, looking the area over like a battlefield. “We’ll have to shunt it to the ditch, let it flow out to sea,” he said.
That full day was spent digging, extending the town’s partial defensive ditch to meet the ever flowing stream. To their credit, all four Heroes took their time with a shovel, which went a long way to stifling the grumbling that some of the town folks were still doing. Then at last the deed was done, and the water was flowing out to sea instead of into the town. There was still some grumbling about the clean up left to do, but most realized that the flood was proof positive that the temple was cleaned out (so to speak) and there would be no more raids from lizard men.
The next evening the town threw a huge feast for the Heroes. Virtually everyone in the town turned out to the freshly cleaned town square for the huge event, and most of them brought gifts, pressed flowers, little carvings, handfuls of spice, small steins of beer, and much, much more.
Then during a lull in the festivities, a man strode out to the town square, a war hammer slung over his shoulder. “I am Babrack. My wife and my child were killed during the raids this past week. You have avenged them, now I would serve you. I would go out with you when you leave tomorrow and serve you as a man-at-arms.”
The Heroes, shocked, looked at each other before turning back to the man before them. He was big certainly, and stood with a warrior’s stance, but they wondered if he really knew what he was offering to do.
“You ought to know that we may well never come back here,” Bessie said.
Babrack nodded. “There is nothing to hold me here. If I return or not, I am content.”
“We’re going off into the wild, and there’s probably going to be a lot of things out there that want to eat us,” Ren cautioned.
Again Babrack nodded. “I have faced things here recently that wanted to eat me. I do not fear facing others.”
Aneirin turned to Jon. “Can you vouch for his prowess?”
The new captain of the guard nodded. “He’s a strong fighter and knows how to handle his warhammer. I didn’t know he wanted to leave us though. I had him in mind for a sergeant.”
Babrack smiled. “There then. Will you have me as your companion?”
Ren and Bessie nodded. Aneirin said, “So long as you understand the risks, I welcome you.”
Beside them, Dumb Bear stood. “I test,” he said. The big elf dropped his flail and hide armor and flexed before Babrack.
The Town warrior looked from Dumb Bear to the other Heroes. They all smiled and nodded. “We all got to ask you stuff,” Ren said. “Now he wants to – but he doesn’t know the language so well.”
Bessie grinned. “So he’s asking in the universal.”
Babrack sighed. He dropped his warhammer and stripped his leathers off. Dumb Bear led the way to a space in the square free of food and revelers, where he and Babrack faced off. Ren started counting as Dumb Bear charged. Babrack dodge the charge but his punch missed the elf. He tried to tackle Dumb Bear next, but the elf evaded the effort. The two went back and forth like that, each evading the others attempt to grapple for nearly a thirty count before Dumb Bear finally pinned Babrack. The elf then stood and nodded. “Good. Keep.”
That settled it. Groaning, Babrack rose and joined the three Maisseners and the elf for the rest of the feast. The next morning he met them at the square, fully armored and leading a mule. “My other contribution,” he said proudly. The new mount was immediately laden with the weighty tapestries looted from the temple, as well as the various supplies the Heroes had gathered for their trek. The red velvet, rug, and other two tapestries remained in town. Babrack rode Scout, the horse Ren had adopted from Hilltopple house, and the Heroes set up the mountain trail and off into the wild, their goal – the wizard city of UrZin.
Heading west, they were soon in the high foot hills of the great mountains. That afternoon, with the drake temple well behind them, they started seeing ruins. Tall columns and arches that certainly predated Maissen. Some were along the trail, some off it, but there was no indication of who built them or why. With no compelling reason to investigate, the Heroes carried on.
That night they heard deep, guttural growls from deep in the woods. They spent the night on double watches, letting Barbrack to sleep through, but never saw any sign of what animal made the noise. Not until the late the next morning.
Riding a little ahead, Ren saw the signs first. He halted and waved the others to him. “Tracks,” he said when they were close enough to hear. “Big ones.”
“They look like a cat,” Bessie said, “but they’re too large for even the biggest of them.”
“Dragonne?” Aneirin asked. “We know the lair in these mountains.”
Ren shuddered. “Maybe. But I hope if it is one, we see it from as far away as we saw the last one.”
Hyper alert for monsters now, the party set off again. They saw no more evidence of monsters, but that afternoon Ren spotted something more unexpected. He came to a stop and stared, unsure if he should trust his eyes.
“What is it?” Bessie asked as she rode up.
Ren pointed to the north. “There. Tell if you don’t see a castle.”
The druid followed his point to a spit extending onto a small lake, and nodded, as did Aneirin and Babrack.
“It is a castle,” Aneirin said. “Part of one anyway. There’s the keep, a set of towers, and they’ve got a few walls up. Probably a ruin.” A moment later he added. “We should go take a closer look.”
Bessie nodded. “It may have something to do with those ruins we passed yesterday.”
Ren studied the distance. “Shouldn’t take a couple hours to get to it. Might as well. At least they’ll give us shelter for the night once we get there.”
They left the trail and rode toward the incomplete castle. As they got closer sounds of activity reached their ears.
“That’s construction!” Aneirin said, excitement in his voice.
“Amazing,” Ren said. “Who’d build a castle out in the middle of nowhere?”
As the afternoon began to wane, the Heroes found a path leading around the lake. Riding openly and slowly on it, the were soon noticed by the castle inhabitants. Pikes appeared along the walls and where a gate house was under construction.
“Fast with the weapons,” Bessie said.
Ren nodded. “They’ve got reason to be, they do,” he said, pointing over to the right. “Look at the ground over there. A line of stomped down ground.”
Bessie gasped at the tell-tale sign. “Chakta! Less than a half mile from the keep. No wonder then.”
They continued to round the lake and soon rode up the spit toward the keep. Pikemen piled out of the incomplete castle and formed up in three rows where the spit opened up. Halfway down the spit, Aneirin called for the Maisseners to halt. “Better to show them we’re not hostile.”
A short, wide-shouldered man stepped forward from the ranks of pikemen. “State your name and you intentions,” he shouted.
“We are travelers from Maissen,” Bessie yelled back.
Before she could say more, the sergeant repeated her last word. “Maissen? Approach, but slowly if you please.” He turned and said something the Maisseners couldn’t hear, then one of the pikemen dashed back to the castle. The sergeant barked an order and the pikemen relaxed their stance, but still kept their hands on their pikes.
The sergeant walked up and met the Heroes at the end of the spit. “My lord will certainly want to speak with you,” he said, eyes going up and down each in turn. He looked about to speak when the pikemen behind him parted. A tall man with a full dark beard rushed up. “Are you Heroes of Maissen,” he asked.
“Indeed,” Bessie said. She introduced the others, and each showed their badge in turn.
The lord of the castle smiled and produced a similar badge. “I an Ungri,” he said, “and you are welcome in my keep.”
Unrgi was true to his word, making the Heroes welcome in all ways. Their mounts were tended to and a dinner was prepared. Through the pleasant evening they all exchanged stories, and like everyone else who heard it, Ungri was fascinated by Aneirin’s tale. Ungri explained that he had been a hero, and then spend many years as an agent of the church, a path he recommended. Eventually though he decided to try his hand in forging a settlement, and so here he was. All had gone well for him, he generally ignored the communalists of the Town the new Heroes had just left, signed a non-aggression pact with the wizards of UrZin (who had otherwise generally ignored him), and tried without success to befriend a Maissen sorcerer that had started his own keep further west, close UrZin. The most excitement he’d had recently was the Chakta. “Seven years with no sign of them, and days ago a hoard moved through,” he said.
His countrymen told him of the traitorous actions of the redbreasts, and got an unexpected bit of information. “In red, you say? That would be the work of Cocrus the Red.” Ungri went on to explain the Cocrus was one of an ever expanding list of Maissenian wizards, one not to be trusted, and one tolerated by the Council for delicate political reasons. Political talk dominated the rest of the evening. Angri explained why he sees the nature of the Maissen government as the best way of governing under the circumstances, that while survival is not so much an issue, Maissen is still a society under threat. That to him justified the secrecy regarding the wider world, the outlawing of wizards on the one hand while sheltering them on the other, the use of “heroes”, and keeping the average citizen within the bounds of the country. To the newer Heroes, Ren especially, it was all unconvincing.
Ungri was most helpful informing them of the geography that awaited them to the west. The mountain trail was the safest, “keep to the stone and the giants will not bother you,” he said. Ungri explained that there was a pact between the giants and dwarves, and should the former cross into the mountains there would be war. The ruins the party had seen were markers of ancient entries into the dwarf tunnels under the mountain. There were three entries on the northern face of the mountains, though they had all fallen into disuse.
“There’s still one that’s still used from time to time,” Bessie said, briefly telling of the party’s aborted plans to travel north under the mountain.
The next morning Ungri presented them with a sealed scroll, a letter to his mother in Ballos, and asked if the New Heroes would deliver it. THey happily agreed and waved off his offer of payment. As they left, Ungri gave them a final word of advise, “Make for the Temple of the Crow, it is a fine place to shelter for the night.”
Clouds were already gathering as the Heroes left Angri’s keep. By the time they made it back to the mountain trail it was overcast, and heavy rain soon began to fall. The rain apparently drove any threats to shelter, for they had the trail and day to ourselves.
Almost.
Around what they estimated to be noon Bessie called out, “There. Look up.”
The others looked up in time to spot a shadowy figure in the sky. It flew like it didn’t really know how, and growled the same guttural growl the party had heard two nights earlier.
“What is that?” Aneirin asked.
“Too far,” Dumb Bear said. “Clouds make seeing hard.”
“Probably a good thing,” Ren said. “Maybe it can’t see us either, and if it IS a dragonne that’s a good thing for sure.”
“Think we’ll be lucky enough to not see it again?” Bessie asked.
Aneirin snorted. “Us? We’ve been lucky for too many days in a row now.”
Next: Unlucky at the Temple of the Crow
Soon: Sorcerer’s Keep ; UrZin
Baron Opal
First Post
Still reading and enjoying.
By-the-by, I've receintly discovered that hunting spiders like apple juice. Be careful when you are about to throw away an apple core that's been laying around in the middle of the night.
By-the-by, I've receintly discovered that hunting spiders like apple juice. Be careful when you are about to throw away an apple core that's been laying around in the middle of the night.
Beale Knight
First Post
Baron Opal said:
Hmmm! That give me an idea for the campaign I'm running.
Beale Knight
First Post
Change of voice and style
Early on I mentioned I was thinking about posting slightly edited version of the campaign logs that had already been typed up once I got to the point in the campaign where I'd kept logs that were interesting to read. But with everyone's encouragement I decided to continue re-writing everything for the Story Hour.
As you can probably tell from the derth of updates lately, I'm having trouble keeping up with that. There's only so much time to type and the Story Hour was what kept suffering.
But I don't want to quit mid-tale. So I'm switching back to my old plan and will be posting slightly edited campaign session logs to the point where they run out. Then I'll work from my note to cover the last few sessions.
This way you all get to find out what happened, but the downside is the style change. It's much broader in scope, and uses the first person plural perspective. I hope you like it all anyway.
The upside is - updates will be much much more frequent, up to the point where I run out of session logs anyway. Then I'll probably to a faster recap, but we'll see.
So with out further ado, here comes the first session log style SH update.
Early on I mentioned I was thinking about posting slightly edited version of the campaign logs that had already been typed up once I got to the point in the campaign where I'd kept logs that were interesting to read. But with everyone's encouragement I decided to continue re-writing everything for the Story Hour.
As you can probably tell from the derth of updates lately, I'm having trouble keeping up with that. There's only so much time to type and the Story Hour was what kept suffering.
But I don't want to quit mid-tale. So I'm switching back to my old plan and will be posting slightly edited campaign session logs to the point where they run out. Then I'll work from my note to cover the last few sessions.
This way you all get to find out what happened, but the downside is the style change. It's much broader in scope, and uses the first person plural perspective. I hope you like it all anyway.
The upside is - updates will be much much more frequent, up to the point where I run out of session logs anyway. Then I'll probably to a faster recap, but we'll see.
So with out further ado, here comes the first session log style SH update.
Beale Knight
First Post
Session 10
Unlucky at the Temple of the Crow; Sorcerer’s Keep ; UrZin
Clouds were already gathering as we left Angri’s keep. By the time we made it back to the mountain trail it was overcast, and heavy rain soon began to fall. The rain apparently drove any threats to shelter, for we had the trail and day to ourselves. Almost.
Around what we estimated to be noon we saw a shadowy figure in the sky. It flew like it didn’t really know how, and growled the same guttural growl we had heard two nights earlier. It was too high and distant to see detail, but we decided that was a good thing. If it was a dragonne as we suspected, it probably couldn’t see us thanks to the rough weather.
It was late afternoon, we think, when the trail widened and the forest opened to a clearing. We could see a collection of ruined buildings up ahead there, and felt certain that they must be the shelter Angri had mentioned.
Aneirin’s scouting of the buildings confirmed them empty, and that they were all amply decorated with crow designs. This was indeed the Temple of the Crow, but whatever grand history it may have had, today it was four buildings and a well, all in horrific ruin. Still, there were walls and each building still had part of a roof. We crowded four horses, one war-lizard, a mule, and us into the largest of the buildings, and somehow managed to get each under a portion of roof. We made a fire and settled down for the night.
It was during the last watch when the attack came. Aneirin was on watch and he heard the thing land heavily on the roof, on the far end of the building from where we’d bedded down. He took a look through the massive hole and saw a winged shape. Then Dumb Bear’s horse screamed and collapsed. That naturally woke the rest of us and we opened our eyes to see the horse on the ground with two huge spikes - spikes the size of a man’s forearm! - sticking out from its side. There was a terrible wind and sparks spread from the fire. The battle was on!
Aneirin was already getting on his war horse and preparing for battle. Ren shot at the monster on the roof, driving it away. Bessie and Dumb Bear got to their feet and followed it outside.
The rain had stopped and in the moonlight we could see the monster more clearly. It was no dragonne. It was like nothing we had seen before. A huge feline body with dark fur, great, wide wings, a squat head, and a long tail that ended in a ball full of spikes. It was so absurd that it would have been laughable had it not been so deadly. It was a slow, clumsy flier, but it could fly and it could shoot those monster spikes to lethal effect.
Its new target was Aneirin and Avarshan. The monster launched spikes again, striking both horse and rider before it flew away. Bessie went to tend the wounded, Ren shot at the thing again, and Dumb Bear and Barbrack followed it, looking for some way to attack.
Our quick action was too much for the monster and it flew completely away, getting out of bowshot range quickly. We groaned in frustration, but we weren’t finished yet. Ren had a plan.
We dragged the horse carcass out to the open area between buildings and then took cover. Aneirin waited on Avarshan, lance ready. The rest of us were in various ruined buildings, waiting. At last, we heard wings.
The monster had returned. It landed clumsily at the carcass of the horse it had killed, sniffed it, sniffed the air, and then decided it was safe. It put its all too human looking face into the carcass and began to eat.
Aneirin charged. His shout prompted the rest of us and we went into action. Hitting the monster at full charge, Aneirin buried his lance and ripped it free. The beast screamed in pain as part of its shoulder fell to the ground. Ren and Bessie moved up and shot the monster with bow and crossbow. Dumb Bear charged. The elf ran full speed to the monster, ready to jump from the horse carcass to the monster’s back, but the thing was too fast. It met Dumb Bear in mid-leap with a powerful paw swipe that sent the elf hurdling backwards. This it followed up with a volley of tail spikes that knocked Dumb Bear unconscious.
We landed another round of blows on the monster and it retreated to the air. It made a clumsy flight over the Temple of Crow’s grounds, shooting tail spikes at which ever one of us caught its attention. Most of us were wounded by these things, but Ren and Bessie kept up the fire on it even as the thing flew higher and higher. It was making for the ridge, and if it made it there it would get away – again.
As it got close it was clear that our missiles were doing it grievous harm, and that escape was its only plan now that it had launched all its tail spikes. Aneirin, who had been holding and readying in case the monster landed again, took out his bow and joined in the missile fire. The three of us launched another volley into the beast and that finally did it.
With a yowl, the monster flapped its wings one final time and plummeted to the ground like a brick, almost landing right on top of Ren. We had done it! We had taken on a beast that would probably have harassed us night after night for days to come, probably killing more of our precious mounts. We had tricked it, chased it down, and brought it out of the sky. We were exhausted.
Dumb Bear was greatly wounded, but not in danger of dying. Bessie made us of two of the Healing scrolls to tend his wounds and he was soon as fit as ever. The rest of us would heal well enough in time. For his part Barbrack had obeyed orders and stayed with the mounts. He kept them calm and kept them from becoming a target, a service of value that can’t be underestimated.
Needless to say, we got to a late start on Day Thirty Three. Thankfully it was a quiet day of peaceful travel and no rain. It was also free of low, guttural growls from somewhere in the forest. On the evening of Day Thirty Four we came to a rise, which gave us a clear view to the north. There we saw the other keep Angri had mentioned. It was much too far to reach before nightfall, so we simply camped where we were.
The first business of Day Thirty Five was to pay a visit. This keep and its lands had clearly been established only recently. Not only were there no completely constructed buildings, but the lands were still heavily wooded, and the workers were living in tents pitched around the area. However, as we got closer we were treated to a most unusual method of construction.
Two men in robes were at the edge of the construction site, one sitting, one standing. As we rode up we saw the standing figure cast a spell and before our eyes a wall of stone appeared, perfectly in place. The caster looked winded and sat, and the other figure did the same. It was an amazing thing to see. This was the very thing that Petris, the “priest” in Vaunth-on-the-Lake, wanted the stones from the Valley of Drayne for – and how he had promised to construct better housing for the town’s poor. It was nice to see how it actually worked.
Our approach was finally noticed. One of the robed figures sped toward the shelter of the partially built keep, as did the workers. The other robed man took a different route. He flew into the sky.
We on the ground stared at he in the sky for several moments before we heard a whisper in our ears, “Drop the arms and approach.” We glanced at each other, confirming that we had indeed all heard it, and then choose Bessie to approach the man.
He was a haughty sorcerer named Kore, and he wanted nothing more than to have us move along. He acknowledged Bessie’s greeting and bid us to leave. He had no interest in trade or talk. In short, he was an ass. When asked about his neighbors he had little to say. Regarding the giants, all he said was, “the giants fear me.” Disgusted, we alerted him to the traitorous redbreasts and moved along.
Angri had said that Kore’s keep was virtually in the shadow of UrZin, so we decided to ride overland from this point. The rest of the day was peaceful woodland travel, but as night fell we were still a ways from the coast. We made our camp and tried to be hopeful about tomorrow's visit to the city of wizards.
Day Thirty Five began early. Barbrack was on last watch and heard the thing first. He shouted a warning to wake the rest of us, and that was just about the last thing he got to do in the battle that followed. We got on our feet to see a giant stomping toward us.
The giant was almost as tall as two men, even hunched over as it was. It had uprooted a full grown tree to use as a club, and before we could act it beat Barbrack senseless with it. Now it was our turn. Arneirin and Dumb Bear made use of their enchanted armor and were ready to fight. Ren moved around a tree and threw his spear at the giant, missing it horribly. Bessie made up the difference, scoring a critical hit with her crossbow.
Ren took another shot, distracting the giant as Dumb Bear, enraged for up close and personal fighting, charged. Aneirin circled around and flanked it. The giant was bleeding, but still had plenty of fight in him. He pounded Dumb Bear with the tree trunk club, but the elf landed a solid blow with his flail – and we all got a surprise.
When Dumb Bear’s flail connected with the giant’s skin there was a hiss from the weapon. Acid was flowing out of it! The giant staggered back, screaming as the acid ate into his belly, and then fell dead to the ground. For once though, none of us were looking at our vanquished foe. All eyes were on Dumb Bear and his flail. For his part, the elf was smiling so broadly we could see every one of his stained teeth. He was the happiest barbarian elf in the entire world.
The giant had a chain of crudely linked gold coins and a pair of dwarf skulls, one with three gold teeth, but nothing else of value. We took those, debating the merit of keeping the skulls before leaving them on the corpse and rolling it off the ridge. Bessie brought Barbrack back to consciousness, and he seemed to be getting some doubts about his decision to come with us. Ren retrieved his spear, certain it must bear a Chakta curse. It had missed its target every single time he’d tried to use it since killing that Chakta rider two days outside Miassen. We packed up and set back onto the trail.
It was almost noon when we broke out of the woods and onto the beach. A mile ahead we could see what could only be UrZin, city of wizards. It was an amazing sight.
The city was on an island nestled in a small bay. There was a central tower larger than the tallest tower of Castle Maissen, at least 200 feet high. Around it were six towers only slightly smaller, each one fully a mile from the central tower. Those six towers were connected by a wall of smooth ebony, taller and thicker than any we had ever seen. But the most awe inspiring of it all was the lightning.
Every few moments the sky above the city lit up as lightning flashed from the central tower to one of the five that surrounded it. We had been told about this, but the words were nothing to seeing it with our own eyes. To think that six weeks ago we hadn’t any idea this city existed – or could exist.
We made our way to the shore, as close to the little island, more of a rock outcrop really, as possible. There was no bridge and no obvious way to contact the city, and so we discussed various means to get their attention. The idea of an arrow with a note was rejected as too likely to be interpreted as an attack to be answered with (unquestionably lethal) force. So we ended up using our whistles from the dwarven spelunking kits.
After a few minutes we were greeted by a gull. Literally. It landed right beside us and, in a voice as clear as bright day, asked “What is your business?” We replied that we were travelers from Maissen and wished audience. Without acknowledging what we’d said the gull flew off and into the city. And we waited.
And we waited.
And we waited some more.
And we blew our whistle again.
And we waited.
And we watched the cold northern surf splash against the rocks.
And we waited.
And Dumb Bear took a nap.
And we waited.
And Aneiren threatened three times to ride off.
And we waited.
And we blew our whistles some more.
Finally even Ren and Bessie, the most enthusiastic about visiting the city, admitted we were being ignored. Ren wrote a note, “Peaceful Greetings from Maissen. Ren d’Hayson, Bessie Fisherman, Aneirin,” tied it to an arrow and stuck it into the ground. We at last turned to leave.
After less than five steps we heard a voice behind us.
“Tell Thraud he has our blessing.”
We turned to see a gaunt old man in a long robe.
“The blessing of who” we asked.
“Of UrZin”
Now that we had the attention of someone from city of wizards we began our questions. They bounced off the old man like rain off a duck. What they did here was wizardly business. It would take faaar too long to explain it, or how the lightning worked. We seemed mildly entertaining to this man, but he was quickly reaching the end of his patience. So we asked one of our big questions.
“What do you make of this?” we asked as Aneirin pulled out the gold idol.
THAT got a reaction. We had something that caught the old man off guard. And it knocked a little bit of the haughtiness out of him. We were suddenly worth talking to.
So much so that he invited us into the city. Dumb Bear refused to go, but the old man would not have us separated. With a word and gesture he compelled Scout, which Dumb Bear had been riding since the monster killed his horse, to move along with the rest of us.
We were led to an invisible bridge. An Invisible Bridge! We had spent hours waiting on the shore and never even thought to search for such a thing.
As we approached the ebony walls the old man made another gesture and a small opening appeared. He placed his hand in there and pushed and pulled the opening, enlarging it to the point where it could accommodate us all. We entered and were inside the wall itself. A troop of soldiers was waiting there, in case we decided to become suicidal and start trouble, and we were led down the “hall”. One interesting thing we noticed, the soldiers all seemed to be almost as old as our host.
We were asked about how we got our hands on the statue, and our tale of the drake temple and mechanus further impressed the old man. He told us that we had indeed done the right thing by “killing” the mechanus and flooding the egg hatchery.
Moments late we stopped at a nondescript part of the hall. Our host touched the wall and an opening appeared. As before he inserted his hand to expand it, but this one he only opened to the size of a large window.
Another old man faced us from the other side. We handed him the statue and he examined it thoroughly, asking us what we knew about it. Once again we told the tale, but this time we accented the telling by bringing out the tapestry we’d brought with us. This widened the eyes of both old men. The two of them engaged in a whispered conference and then turned to us.
“What is your price?” they asked.
We all glanced awkwardly at each other. Actually selling these things here had never advanced past an abstract possibility. Faced with the reality of having two things these people actually wanted we were at a loss for an answer.
“Could we confer privately for a few moments?” we asked.
They agreed and we stepped away. We pretended that they couldn’t hear every single hushed word we said and they pretended they weren’t listening. Nonetheless we took our time. Never again would we have the opportunity to name a price in a city full of wizards that could very possibly craft anything we could possibly ask for.
At last we presented our purposely outrageous list. For Aneirin – armor worthy of his father. For Ren – a legendry bow. For Bessie – a means to speak with anyone with a language and wisdom. For Dumb Bear – speed in battle. Additionally – a map of the world.
They considered and partially agreed, more so than we had reason to hope for. We would give them the idol, the tapestry, and individual accounts of our meeting with the mechanus. We agreed and were each paired with a scribe. When our tales were told and recorded, we were led out.
Dumb Bear had one final request. He held his flail to the old man, indicating that he wondered if our host knew anything about it. And he did. After a quick examination, the old man told us that Dumb Bear’s flail was the weapon of the Frost Giant King – and he wanted it back. We must be careful.
When we asked, he did confirm that there was a treaty between the giants and dwarves that prohibited the latter from coming onto the mountains, but that didn’t mean some giants didn’t go up there anyway. When we told him of our fight with the giant just this morning he nodded at the example. And told us that we had not faced a true giant, but one of their agents – an ogre. We must also be alert for trolls.
Finally we were outside again. Our host bid us goodbye, directed us to the invisible bridge, and told us a man would meet us on land with our goods. We were once again on solid land when a man stepped out from a tree (“I want to do that!” Bessie declared at the sight. “You will one day,” this old man answered). He opened a bundle and handed each of us something, naming it in turn.
For Aneirin an enchanted chain shirt of mithral. For Ren an enchanted composite short bow of quill make. For Bessie an amulet of all languages. For Dumb Bear a ring of deflection, that becomes invisible when worn.
We gratefully thanked the old man for delivering the goods (at least one us was not completely convinced we wouldn’t be betrayed) and turned to be on our way. He left us with one final thought. “Tell the council that UrZin is an excellent place for trade.”
Nodding, we agreed to tell them. Silently, we were thinking that it shouldn’t be so hard to get the attention of excellent places to trade.
Next: Wayden, Mawgs, and Ballog the Trollkin POST 173
Unlucky at the Temple of the Crow; Sorcerer’s Keep ; UrZin
Clouds were already gathering as we left Angri’s keep. By the time we made it back to the mountain trail it was overcast, and heavy rain soon began to fall. The rain apparently drove any threats to shelter, for we had the trail and day to ourselves. Almost.
Around what we estimated to be noon we saw a shadowy figure in the sky. It flew like it didn’t really know how, and growled the same guttural growl we had heard two nights earlier. It was too high and distant to see detail, but we decided that was a good thing. If it was a dragonne as we suspected, it probably couldn’t see us thanks to the rough weather.
It was late afternoon, we think, when the trail widened and the forest opened to a clearing. We could see a collection of ruined buildings up ahead there, and felt certain that they must be the shelter Angri had mentioned.
Aneirin’s scouting of the buildings confirmed them empty, and that they were all amply decorated with crow designs. This was indeed the Temple of the Crow, but whatever grand history it may have had, today it was four buildings and a well, all in horrific ruin. Still, there were walls and each building still had part of a roof. We crowded four horses, one war-lizard, a mule, and us into the largest of the buildings, and somehow managed to get each under a portion of roof. We made a fire and settled down for the night.
It was during the last watch when the attack came. Aneirin was on watch and he heard the thing land heavily on the roof, on the far end of the building from where we’d bedded down. He took a look through the massive hole and saw a winged shape. Then Dumb Bear’s horse screamed and collapsed. That naturally woke the rest of us and we opened our eyes to see the horse on the ground with two huge spikes - spikes the size of a man’s forearm! - sticking out from its side. There was a terrible wind and sparks spread from the fire. The battle was on!
Aneirin was already getting on his war horse and preparing for battle. Ren shot at the monster on the roof, driving it away. Bessie and Dumb Bear got to their feet and followed it outside.
The rain had stopped and in the moonlight we could see the monster more clearly. It was no dragonne. It was like nothing we had seen before. A huge feline body with dark fur, great, wide wings, a squat head, and a long tail that ended in a ball full of spikes. It was so absurd that it would have been laughable had it not been so deadly. It was a slow, clumsy flier, but it could fly and it could shoot those monster spikes to lethal effect.
Its new target was Aneirin and Avarshan. The monster launched spikes again, striking both horse and rider before it flew away. Bessie went to tend the wounded, Ren shot at the thing again, and Dumb Bear and Barbrack followed it, looking for some way to attack.
Our quick action was too much for the monster and it flew completely away, getting out of bowshot range quickly. We groaned in frustration, but we weren’t finished yet. Ren had a plan.
We dragged the horse carcass out to the open area between buildings and then took cover. Aneirin waited on Avarshan, lance ready. The rest of us were in various ruined buildings, waiting. At last, we heard wings.
The monster had returned. It landed clumsily at the carcass of the horse it had killed, sniffed it, sniffed the air, and then decided it was safe. It put its all too human looking face into the carcass and began to eat.
Aneirin charged. His shout prompted the rest of us and we went into action. Hitting the monster at full charge, Aneirin buried his lance and ripped it free. The beast screamed in pain as part of its shoulder fell to the ground. Ren and Bessie moved up and shot the monster with bow and crossbow. Dumb Bear charged. The elf ran full speed to the monster, ready to jump from the horse carcass to the monster’s back, but the thing was too fast. It met Dumb Bear in mid-leap with a powerful paw swipe that sent the elf hurdling backwards. This it followed up with a volley of tail spikes that knocked Dumb Bear unconscious.
We landed another round of blows on the monster and it retreated to the air. It made a clumsy flight over the Temple of Crow’s grounds, shooting tail spikes at which ever one of us caught its attention. Most of us were wounded by these things, but Ren and Bessie kept up the fire on it even as the thing flew higher and higher. It was making for the ridge, and if it made it there it would get away – again.
As it got close it was clear that our missiles were doing it grievous harm, and that escape was its only plan now that it had launched all its tail spikes. Aneirin, who had been holding and readying in case the monster landed again, took out his bow and joined in the missile fire. The three of us launched another volley into the beast and that finally did it.
With a yowl, the monster flapped its wings one final time and plummeted to the ground like a brick, almost landing right on top of Ren. We had done it! We had taken on a beast that would probably have harassed us night after night for days to come, probably killing more of our precious mounts. We had tricked it, chased it down, and brought it out of the sky. We were exhausted.
Dumb Bear was greatly wounded, but not in danger of dying. Bessie made us of two of the Healing scrolls to tend his wounds and he was soon as fit as ever. The rest of us would heal well enough in time. For his part Barbrack had obeyed orders and stayed with the mounts. He kept them calm and kept them from becoming a target, a service of value that can’t be underestimated.
Needless to say, we got to a late start on Day Thirty Three. Thankfully it was a quiet day of peaceful travel and no rain. It was also free of low, guttural growls from somewhere in the forest. On the evening of Day Thirty Four we came to a rise, which gave us a clear view to the north. There we saw the other keep Angri had mentioned. It was much too far to reach before nightfall, so we simply camped where we were.
The first business of Day Thirty Five was to pay a visit. This keep and its lands had clearly been established only recently. Not only were there no completely constructed buildings, but the lands were still heavily wooded, and the workers were living in tents pitched around the area. However, as we got closer we were treated to a most unusual method of construction.
Two men in robes were at the edge of the construction site, one sitting, one standing. As we rode up we saw the standing figure cast a spell and before our eyes a wall of stone appeared, perfectly in place. The caster looked winded and sat, and the other figure did the same. It was an amazing thing to see. This was the very thing that Petris, the “priest” in Vaunth-on-the-Lake, wanted the stones from the Valley of Drayne for – and how he had promised to construct better housing for the town’s poor. It was nice to see how it actually worked.
Our approach was finally noticed. One of the robed figures sped toward the shelter of the partially built keep, as did the workers. The other robed man took a different route. He flew into the sky.
We on the ground stared at he in the sky for several moments before we heard a whisper in our ears, “Drop the arms and approach.” We glanced at each other, confirming that we had indeed all heard it, and then choose Bessie to approach the man.
He was a haughty sorcerer named Kore, and he wanted nothing more than to have us move along. He acknowledged Bessie’s greeting and bid us to leave. He had no interest in trade or talk. In short, he was an ass. When asked about his neighbors he had little to say. Regarding the giants, all he said was, “the giants fear me.” Disgusted, we alerted him to the traitorous redbreasts and moved along.
Angri had said that Kore’s keep was virtually in the shadow of UrZin, so we decided to ride overland from this point. The rest of the day was peaceful woodland travel, but as night fell we were still a ways from the coast. We made our camp and tried to be hopeful about tomorrow's visit to the city of wizards.
Day Thirty Five began early. Barbrack was on last watch and heard the thing first. He shouted a warning to wake the rest of us, and that was just about the last thing he got to do in the battle that followed. We got on our feet to see a giant stomping toward us.
The giant was almost as tall as two men, even hunched over as it was. It had uprooted a full grown tree to use as a club, and before we could act it beat Barbrack senseless with it. Now it was our turn. Arneirin and Dumb Bear made use of their enchanted armor and were ready to fight. Ren moved around a tree and threw his spear at the giant, missing it horribly. Bessie made up the difference, scoring a critical hit with her crossbow.
Ren took another shot, distracting the giant as Dumb Bear, enraged for up close and personal fighting, charged. Aneirin circled around and flanked it. The giant was bleeding, but still had plenty of fight in him. He pounded Dumb Bear with the tree trunk club, but the elf landed a solid blow with his flail – and we all got a surprise.
When Dumb Bear’s flail connected with the giant’s skin there was a hiss from the weapon. Acid was flowing out of it! The giant staggered back, screaming as the acid ate into his belly, and then fell dead to the ground. For once though, none of us were looking at our vanquished foe. All eyes were on Dumb Bear and his flail. For his part, the elf was smiling so broadly we could see every one of his stained teeth. He was the happiest barbarian elf in the entire world.
The giant had a chain of crudely linked gold coins and a pair of dwarf skulls, one with three gold teeth, but nothing else of value. We took those, debating the merit of keeping the skulls before leaving them on the corpse and rolling it off the ridge. Bessie brought Barbrack back to consciousness, and he seemed to be getting some doubts about his decision to come with us. Ren retrieved his spear, certain it must bear a Chakta curse. It had missed its target every single time he’d tried to use it since killing that Chakta rider two days outside Miassen. We packed up and set back onto the trail.
It was almost noon when we broke out of the woods and onto the beach. A mile ahead we could see what could only be UrZin, city of wizards. It was an amazing sight.
The city was on an island nestled in a small bay. There was a central tower larger than the tallest tower of Castle Maissen, at least 200 feet high. Around it were six towers only slightly smaller, each one fully a mile from the central tower. Those six towers were connected by a wall of smooth ebony, taller and thicker than any we had ever seen. But the most awe inspiring of it all was the lightning.
Every few moments the sky above the city lit up as lightning flashed from the central tower to one of the five that surrounded it. We had been told about this, but the words were nothing to seeing it with our own eyes. To think that six weeks ago we hadn’t any idea this city existed – or could exist.
We made our way to the shore, as close to the little island, more of a rock outcrop really, as possible. There was no bridge and no obvious way to contact the city, and so we discussed various means to get their attention. The idea of an arrow with a note was rejected as too likely to be interpreted as an attack to be answered with (unquestionably lethal) force. So we ended up using our whistles from the dwarven spelunking kits.
After a few minutes we were greeted by a gull. Literally. It landed right beside us and, in a voice as clear as bright day, asked “What is your business?” We replied that we were travelers from Maissen and wished audience. Without acknowledging what we’d said the gull flew off and into the city. And we waited.
And we waited.
And we waited some more.
And we blew our whistle again.
And we waited.
And we watched the cold northern surf splash against the rocks.
And we waited.
And Dumb Bear took a nap.
And we waited.
And Aneiren threatened three times to ride off.
And we waited.
And we blew our whistles some more.
Finally even Ren and Bessie, the most enthusiastic about visiting the city, admitted we were being ignored. Ren wrote a note, “Peaceful Greetings from Maissen. Ren d’Hayson, Bessie Fisherman, Aneirin,” tied it to an arrow and stuck it into the ground. We at last turned to leave.
After less than five steps we heard a voice behind us.
“Tell Thraud he has our blessing.”
We turned to see a gaunt old man in a long robe.
“The blessing of who” we asked.
“Of UrZin”
Now that we had the attention of someone from city of wizards we began our questions. They bounced off the old man like rain off a duck. What they did here was wizardly business. It would take faaar too long to explain it, or how the lightning worked. We seemed mildly entertaining to this man, but he was quickly reaching the end of his patience. So we asked one of our big questions.
“What do you make of this?” we asked as Aneirin pulled out the gold idol.
THAT got a reaction. We had something that caught the old man off guard. And it knocked a little bit of the haughtiness out of him. We were suddenly worth talking to.
So much so that he invited us into the city. Dumb Bear refused to go, but the old man would not have us separated. With a word and gesture he compelled Scout, which Dumb Bear had been riding since the monster killed his horse, to move along with the rest of us.
We were led to an invisible bridge. An Invisible Bridge! We had spent hours waiting on the shore and never even thought to search for such a thing.
As we approached the ebony walls the old man made another gesture and a small opening appeared. He placed his hand in there and pushed and pulled the opening, enlarging it to the point where it could accommodate us all. We entered and were inside the wall itself. A troop of soldiers was waiting there, in case we decided to become suicidal and start trouble, and we were led down the “hall”. One interesting thing we noticed, the soldiers all seemed to be almost as old as our host.
We were asked about how we got our hands on the statue, and our tale of the drake temple and mechanus further impressed the old man. He told us that we had indeed done the right thing by “killing” the mechanus and flooding the egg hatchery.
Moments late we stopped at a nondescript part of the hall. Our host touched the wall and an opening appeared. As before he inserted his hand to expand it, but this one he only opened to the size of a large window.
Another old man faced us from the other side. We handed him the statue and he examined it thoroughly, asking us what we knew about it. Once again we told the tale, but this time we accented the telling by bringing out the tapestry we’d brought with us. This widened the eyes of both old men. The two of them engaged in a whispered conference and then turned to us.
“What is your price?” they asked.
We all glanced awkwardly at each other. Actually selling these things here had never advanced past an abstract possibility. Faced with the reality of having two things these people actually wanted we were at a loss for an answer.
“Could we confer privately for a few moments?” we asked.
They agreed and we stepped away. We pretended that they couldn’t hear every single hushed word we said and they pretended they weren’t listening. Nonetheless we took our time. Never again would we have the opportunity to name a price in a city full of wizards that could very possibly craft anything we could possibly ask for.
At last we presented our purposely outrageous list. For Aneirin – armor worthy of his father. For Ren – a legendry bow. For Bessie – a means to speak with anyone with a language and wisdom. For Dumb Bear – speed in battle. Additionally – a map of the world.
They considered and partially agreed, more so than we had reason to hope for. We would give them the idol, the tapestry, and individual accounts of our meeting with the mechanus. We agreed and were each paired with a scribe. When our tales were told and recorded, we were led out.
Dumb Bear had one final request. He held his flail to the old man, indicating that he wondered if our host knew anything about it. And he did. After a quick examination, the old man told us that Dumb Bear’s flail was the weapon of the Frost Giant King – and he wanted it back. We must be careful.
When we asked, he did confirm that there was a treaty between the giants and dwarves that prohibited the latter from coming onto the mountains, but that didn’t mean some giants didn’t go up there anyway. When we told him of our fight with the giant just this morning he nodded at the example. And told us that we had not faced a true giant, but one of their agents – an ogre. We must also be alert for trolls.
Finally we were outside again. Our host bid us goodbye, directed us to the invisible bridge, and told us a man would meet us on land with our goods. We were once again on solid land when a man stepped out from a tree (“I want to do that!” Bessie declared at the sight. “You will one day,” this old man answered). He opened a bundle and handed each of us something, naming it in turn.
For Aneirin an enchanted chain shirt of mithral. For Ren an enchanted composite short bow of quill make. For Bessie an amulet of all languages. For Dumb Bear a ring of deflection, that becomes invisible when worn.
We gratefully thanked the old man for delivering the goods (at least one us was not completely convinced we wouldn’t be betrayed) and turned to be on our way. He left us with one final thought. “Tell the council that UrZin is an excellent place for trade.”
Nodding, we agreed to tell them. Silently, we were thinking that it shouldn’t be so hard to get the attention of excellent places to trade.
Next: Wayden, Mawgs, and Ballog the Trollkin POST 173
Last edited:
OaxacanWarrior
First Post
The new format is not bad and I'd much rather have more updates than a polished story anyway. I liked the city of wizards, by the way.
Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
Yep. New format is just fine.
And that city of wizards sounded really cool.
-z
And that city of wizards sounded really cool.
-z
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