Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 344
Loose Ends
While all of the pictures in Leantha’s book are intriguing to say the least, investigating the island depicted on the first page seems like a good place to start. But before that happens, the Company chooses to attend to a few loose ends and side projects.
The red-armored dream-warrior Octesian, apparently driven mad by his attempt to free the Adversary from his Far Realms prison, has long been prominent on Morningstar’s list of concerns. Deciding it’s time to start preparing for his arrival in earnest, she visits with Evenstar, and the two of them set out to recruit a 13-woman dream-warrior strike force. Sadly, some of the most promising students – most notably June, but also Maltha, Opaline, Eleanor, Onyx of Minok and some of Evenstar's best – were slain by Octesian in the Battle of Verdshane. Still, though, combat-training has proceeded well at many temples, and Morningstar is able to identify many promising candidates.
The most capable fighter is one of Evenstar's students, a tall, wiry woman named Scola. She is pure fighter – not overly pious, and utterly disdainful of church politics. She was present at the Battle of Verdshane, and that proved a catalyst to an almost fanatical desire to improve herself. In the waking world she'd be a formidable fighter, and she has a great facility to make subtle adjustments in Ava Dormo itself to give her tactical advantage.
Evenstar herself is a powerful cleric (though not in Morningstar’s league), and while old and feeble, she does not flinch or grow flustered in battle.
Evenstar also recommends a pair of paladin-sisters, Starbrook and Fautish. Fautish was present at Verdshane, and her sister Starbrook has been training hard since hearing the stories from that battle. She was very close to some of Octesian's victims.
Obsidia and Previa have been with Morningstar from the beginning – the former a cleric/warrior, and the latter a straight cleric (and excellent Chronicler, of course).
Talking to various priestesses from around the kingdom, Morningstar finds several competent Dreamwalker Shields to round out the force– Sable of Kallor, Leona and Raven from Minok, Belle from Hae Charagan and a young, feisty paladin from Kynder Hold named Gyre.
The 12th member of the team is Swan.
For the 13th, there are two likely choices. One is a Shield from Kallor named Corinne. She has always been suspicious of Morningstar, and against the whole notion of Daywalkers despite the various proclamations that have come down regarding them. She will join the team if asked, and is an excellent dream-fighter, but makes no secret of her hostility toward Morningstar. The other choice is a perfectly competent and loyal priestess from Tal Hae named Molly. She is clearly not the fighter that Corinne is, but is also guaranteed not to be a morale problem.
Morningstar chooses Corinne with almost no reservations.
/*/
Dranko checks in with Lucas Blackwell, the man who runs the day-to-day operations of the Undermen. Lucas delivers a thorough report. On the economic front, the news is mixed as usual. One the one hand, pressure from the White Sun Cartel is eroding some of the profit margins on the gem trade. On the other hand, the Undermen have landed an unexpected and lucrative contract with the Weavers' Guild in Trev Lyndyn. That group carefully guards a secret loom design that produces tough, luxuriant fabrics, and the Undermen are now the sole conduit of their goods into Charagan. Lucas speaks highly of the diplomat who arranged that contract, a savvy woman named Vanya Ashdown. She used some residual bad blood between the Weavers and the Cartel to win the deal on excellent terms, and the Undermen are already seeing some small profits from resale. According to Lucas, Vanya has traveled tirelessly through western Kivia since the Boundary came down, learning local politics and becoming an expert in Kivian relations.
In other news, Octavius Hightower, leader of the Starshine Players, came to Lucas four days ago with a strange report. Octavius and his bards have noticed some odd trends and occurrences in the past several weeks, and only recently has Hightower begun to wonder if any of them are related. Specifically:
- The weird fluctuations of luck have not gone unnoticed by the general population, though the phenomenon has been lessening of late. There is a strong rumor in some circles that the Goddess Corilayna has either died or abdicated her position.
- There have been a number of small earthquakes in various unrelated locations around the kingdom, none large enough to cause any serious damage.
- In the past two weeks, nine different people in nine different towns have been found dead in their beds, faces contorted in similar expressions of horror. Octavius doesn't see any connections among the victims, beyond their manner of death.
- The people of Sand's Edge have noticed a terrible smell blowing in from the Mouth of Nahalm, which has ignited renewed fears of Turtle Sickness.
- Twice in the same week, two different workers in the deep copper mines near Sentinel stabbed their wives to death, and went back to work the next day as if nothing had happened. They recall the slayings, but don't seem to understand the fuss. Both men had exhibited no previous criminal behaviors, but nonetheless are in custody and awaiting execution.
Finally, Lucas reports no success in finding King Farazil.
/*/
Dranko then accompanies Grey Wolf and Aravis on a journey to Djaw. Aravis is gravely concerned that Naslund has been left relatively undefended following the abdication of Drosh and the deadly incursion of Tarsos and Meledien. In Djaw the three hope to gain an audience with clerics of Myr Madar, Kivian God of Judgment, who has subsumed the portfolio of the God of Death. After an hour of fruitless wandering in the streets, with nary a sign of a temple to Myr Madar, they visit a shrine to Palamir, God of Loyalty, Duty and Honor. (The folk there are amazed to find one of their most famed paladins, Bostock the Blue, contentedly occupying Grey Wolf’s sword. Bostock gently declines their offers to house him in their temple.) When asked about the location of any temples to Myr Madar, the clerics of Palamir inform Aravis that there
aren’t any. By Myr Madar’s own divine mandate, there are no churches, shrines, priests or worshippers of that deity. Otherwise, goes the common wisdom, Myr Madar might be seen as showing favoritism.
“Great,” grumbles Dranko. “The new God of Death has an epic level rod up his…”
“Excuse me,” interrupts Grey Wolf, “but where is your donation box?”
Aravis proposes a plan B. Given his personal divine ties to Quarrol, Kivian God of nature and animals, he thinks perhaps he can get a message to Myr Madar that way. A sage in Djaw tells them that the largest shrine to Quarrol is a wooden fortress some thirty miles outside the town of Trev-Lyndyn. A couple of
teleports later and Aravis finds himself speaking to the High Priest of Quarrol, a bent and aged man leaning on a maple staff. The High Priest bows low before Aravis.
“What may we do for you, Holy One?”
“I need to get a message to Quarrol,” Aravis explains.
The old man looks puzzled. “You cannot simply talk with him yourself?”
“I don’t know,” Aravis admits. “I’ve never tried.” At his request, the High Priest takes him to an enormous tree with a small woodsy shrine built up around it. He sits and meditates, but though he does achieve a pleasing inner peace, he fails to manifest a direct line of communication to Quarrol. In the end he settles for explaining his dilemma to the High Priest, who casts
commune.
Is Myr Madar aware that Naslund is unprotected?
YES
Can He do something to help protect it?
HE CANNOT. ONLY DROSH CAN
So, that’s the end of that. For the meantime, at least, Viersk in on his own.
/*/
While Morningstar is recruiting dream-warriors, and Aravis, Dranko and Grey Wolf are trying to contact Myr Madar, Kibi and Ernie
teleport to the dwarven lands of Gurund. With Azhant slain, the ancient halls of Cloud Mountain now lie fallow and unguarded, waiting for new tenants who don’t mind a fixer-upper. It’s obvious to Kibi that the place once housed tens of thousands of dwarves, and together with the surrounding hills and woodlands, could probably serve as the home to entire dwarven population of Gurund.
The capital city of Gurund is still under the yoke of the Guild of Chains, with large and numerous Guild guardhouses and offices rising over the shorter buildings of the dwarves. Guild soldiers patrol the streets and their camps are everywhere. They are a constant physical presence, and the dwarves go quietly about their business, heads down, avoiding the humans entirely.
Years ago, after their first unpleasant encounter with the Guild of Chains, the Company had quietly left a large sum of gold with a dwarven elder named Athulf, someone they deemed a possible spark of rebellion. Kibi casts
veil upon himself and Ernie, making them look more like the locals in dress and features, before making discreet inquiries regarding Athulf’s whereabouts. It doesn’t take long before they are hustled off the streets by the locals, and then passed on through a chain of hands to a small nondescript building in a crowded residential neighborhood. Athulf sits at a low stone table, drinking a beer. Ernie thinks he looks even older and more careworn than at their last meeting. Kibi introduces himself, and briefly explains the nature of their errand. Athulf listens with frank skepticism.
“That’s an interesting story you have there, Kibilhathur Bimson,” he says when the tale is done. “But I’ve told you people before, I’m just a dwarf. I don’t want any trouble with anyone. Honestly.” He nods meaningfully toward the door.
Kibi has donned the party’s
cloak of diplomacy for the occasion. It whispers in his mind:
The Guild may suspect that Athulf is up to something. They may have tried this sort of trickery before to get Athulf to admit to fomenting rebellion.
“My story is true,” Kibi insists. “What must I do to convince you?”
Athulf rubs his chin. “Can you wait outside for about half an hour? I need to think this over. But let me clear about something, first. Whether or not your with the Guild of Chains, I
don’t want trouble. Understand me?”
Kibi nods. He and Ernie depart and wait on a stone bench outside the house. Dwarves bustle past on errands, seldom taking any note of the two of them. Ernie takes a short walk and notes that this particular house is unusually far from any particular Guild edifice or patrol route.
By and by the door opens, though Athulf doesn’t come out. They walk back inside and close the door. Athulf has been joined by a trio of burly dwarves, conspicuously armed with axes.
“So, Ernie,” says Athulf. “Describe who was with you the last time you were here?”
Ernie smiles. “You probably remember my friend the half-orc, with the foul body odor and no manners. And, the tall white-haired pale woman – who’s now the half-orc’s wife, by the way. There was a half-elven woman with dark fly-away hair. A dour looking guy with a sword who grumbled a lot. And me, of course.”
Athulf glances at one of his companions. “Ok, yeah,” he says. “And somebody in your group gave me something. Who was it, and what did they give me?”
“It was me,” says Ernie. “I gave you a big pile of money.”
Athulf turns to the dwarf next to him, who nods curtly. The other two exit the room.
“Okay, Ernie. Kibi. You told me that you had just defeated a dragon named Azhant who was residing in Cloud Mountain, which used to be a dwarven city, but now lies in ruins.”
“And we’re thinking maybe you could make it not so ruined, now that there’s a vacancy,” Ernie says.
“Is it big enough for the entire population of Gurund?”
Kibi nods. “If you include the surrounding areas, I think so.”
Athulf strokes his beard. “And what stops the Guild of Chains from enlisting the armies of the White Sun to get us back after we relocate?”
“Well, mountains, for one thing,” says Kibi. “There’s no good way for an army to approach. A small number of dwarves could easily defend the mountain passes from a much larger force.”
“Also,” says Ernie with a grin, “there would be ogres between them and you.”
“And how would we gather up a hundred thousand dwarves from all around Gurund without the Guild of Chains figuring out what we’re up to?”
“I admit, there are some transportation difficulties,” says Kibi. “But we can set up teleportation circles.”
Athulf’s head bobs up and down. He’s obviously intrigued, despite the logistical hurdles. “Ok, ok, but then we have the problem of the current population of dwarven slaves. Every slave is someone’s brother, or father, or cousin. Even if we could move everyone else to Cloud Mountain, the current slaveholders would start shipping us ears and fingers until we cracked and came back.”
“We could solve that,” says Ernie. “A
wish or
miracle could get every current dwarven slave to a teleportation circle, all at once.”
Athulf’s eyes go a bit wide at these assumptions of power, but they also fuel his enthusiasm. “With your help, I think this is workable. I didn’t waste your seed money, you know. We’ve been stockpiling weapons and armor. We also pay a decent chunk to diviners, so we know who to trust, and who might be a Guild stooge. We even ran some divinations on you while you were waiting outside. If you’re willing to help us again…”
Athulf asks for a few hours to assemble a team of engineers and stone-wrights, and for transportation to Cloud Mountain. He wants to check out the location himself, to make sure it’s a suitable new home for the dwarves of Gurund. When the group of dwarves is set to go, Kibi
teleports them to the base of Cloud Mountain, after which Ernie casts
wind walk upon them to allow easier scouting of the ruins. After a couple of hours wafting through the cracks and landslides of the shattered halls, the scout team is quite optimistic. They request more time to scout the surrounding regions; Kibi agrees to return in a week to ferry them back to Gurund.
Two days later, the Company has again gathered in the Greenhouse to discuss their plans. Dranko puts his feet up on the table, lights up a blacktallow, and breathes out smoke that curls into the words
Kibi is a genius. The dwarf smirks.
In light of Octavius Hightower’s report, and still considering the Book of Leantha, there are now several possibilities for the Company’s next move. They could:
- investigate the various persons found dead in their beds (though the party is unanimous in their opinion that Octesian is to blame).
- travel to Sand’s Edge and look into the bad smell blowing in off the sand. (Dranko is certain that one of the Ventifact Colossi has died.)
- look into the baffling murders at the Sentinel copper mines
- seek out the Sharshun’s hidden fortress in the Greatwood, to wrest the Watcher’s Kiss away from Darkeye.
- visit the mysterious island, long protected by dint of being in the Uncrossable Sea, shown on the first page of Leantha’s tome.
They decide to decide after breakfast.
…to be continued…
