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Story Hour
"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
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<blockquote data-quote="el-remmen" data-source="post: 3368129" data-attributes="member: 11"><p><strong>Session #1: “A Party at Sluetelot” (part 1 of 3)</strong> (1)</p><p></p><p><em>As the drunken haze that was mistaken for a corona of glory about the sigils of their Houses faded away with morning, word came of the great disaster in the <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/City+of+the+Spices" target="_blank">City of the Spices</a>. All the people of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Thricia" target="_blank">Thricia</a> were united in their horror and sympathy at the event, and it seemed a poor time for these minor houses to announce the creation of their adventuring charter, and their quest for riches and notoriety…. But not one of the Houses wanted to be the first to suggest delaying or canceling the agreement, but what was to be an event worthy of a great banquet and ostentatious party became humbler and humbler, and fewer people could be expected to take part for fear of appearing disrespectful.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Most people see what is now being called “<a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Agon%27s+Cold+Revenge" target="_blank">the God-king’s Cold Revenge</a>” as an ill-omen of a bad time coming, but in her great speech from the steps of the High Temple of Isis, the <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Margrave" target="_blank">Margrave</a> said that Thricia was to go on as it always had. So when she heard of the charter, she openly encouraged it in court and declared she would be sending “the young sons and daughters of Thricia a gift to aid them”. As Lord Paullion Tenbrook V was present at court when this was announced, he felt the need to send a gift as well, and the small, but tasteful banquet in honor of the charter’s official signing will be held in private suites in the inn locally known as ‘Death & Taxes’ in the town of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Sluetelot" target="_blank">Sluetelot</a> on the 9th of Sek, also known as <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Holiday+-+Day+of+Honors" target="_blank">Anhur’s Day of Honors</a>.</em></p><p></p><p>The mid-spring warmth of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Ra%27s+Glory" target="_blank">Ra’s Glory</a>, washed over the town of Sluetelot in golden waves, distorting the distant glare of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Captured+Sea" target="_blank">the Captured Sea</a> to the west. Markos Ackers was saddened to step off the sloop, as it reminded him of what might have been a happier times – Happy then, but not always happy to think of now. Of average height and very slender build, he flicked his cloak off and immediately a servant took it from him.</p><p></p><p>“The page will bring your horse to the stables,” his father said as he returned from the Harbormaster’s office. “Stabling has been arranged for everyone in the charter.” Jansen turned to the tall young man with the reddish-blond hair, and bright red cassock. The cassock was woven with golden threads that held tiny gems in place in an intricate brocade about the shoulders and chest. He had sharp features and hazel eyes. About his neck was a golden solar disk emblazoned with an ankh. “Laarus, perhaps if you need a horse as well, you can inquire about purchasing or borrowing one there later.”</p><p></p><p>The young priest nodded to his uncle, and then the three began to walk into town. Markos and Laarus looked up at the great walls and towers of Havesting with awe. They could see tiny figures scrambling around siege engines, and atop the balustrade of a great sea wall that reached out into the harbor to reach the shrine of Tefnut, and divide the port into two large areas. Everywhere was the cry of men and gulls, and the cracking of the wind and the creaking of ships. In his forties and well-traveled due to his working for House Raymer’s nascent mercantile business, Jansen Ackers was less impressed. He had brown curly hair worn to the shoulders, in Thrician style. If he and his son had the same complexion, it was only because Markos was weathered a soft-brown by his years at sea, making his yellow hair seem even brighter.</p><p></p><p>Sluetelot was a big town, and growing still. It was a collection of white and blue houses, many with tin roofs, but some had roofs of blue slate. A white stone wall surrounded what locals called <em>Old Town</em>, and where the town had grown beyond the wall, was called “<em>New Sluetelot</em>”. They had to walk through the harbor fortress itself, where Jansen’s credentials, and the respect given a priest of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Ra" target="_blank">Ra</a> got them through the lines of the many visitors waiting to be allowed into the town very quickly. </p><p></p><p>They were reminded of the peace knot law ordinance in effect in Sluetelot, but no one bothered to check their weapons. The main thoroughfare out of the fortress led right to the middle of town, where the Death & Taxes Inn and the luncheon in honor of the signing of Charter of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Schiereiland" target="_blank">Schiereiland</a> would take place. </p><p></p><p>“Father, I am still confused as to why this is such a small affair,” Markos asked Jansen. “I mean, after the tragedy of the City of the Spices, would not a great party in honor of this charter raise morale? Especially, if one believes that it shall really be for the benefit of the people of Thricia, that is…”</p><p></p><p>“Well, that Margrave gave her blessing… What more can be asked for?” Laarus interjected.</p><p></p><p>“A great banquet might have been nice,” Jansen replied. “But I think it is better to come in quietly and later be noticed, than to be announced only to disappoint.”</p><p></p><p>Laarus nodded in agreement.</p><p></p><p>“I just hope we can use this charter as an opportunity to actually help people, and not just some political ploy,” Markos said.</p><p></p><p>“The margrave has ever stood to defend the people against the tyranny of Thricia’s nobles,” Jansen smiled with his obvious sarcasm. He opened his fine vest, and undid a button of his silk shirt, as the walk in the sun was beginning to make him sweat. “If she has given her approval, it is because she believes it will be helpful to Thricia in some way.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, I am sure she has her reasons, even if they are not readily apparent,” Markos replied, as they came into view of the inn.</p><p></p><p>Death & Taxes was situated at the corner to the entrance to what was called “the Great Meeting Well Plaza”, or sometimes “central Market”, as nearly everyday merchants hawked their wears all about the great marble lipped well in the plaza’s center. The inn was a two-story building, with ivy growing up one side and over most of the sloped roof. There was a garden in front with wooden benches that faced the overgrown and unkempt yard of a cottage across the way.</p><p></p><p>Laarus made out the spire of a temple of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Isis" target="_blank">Isis</a> across the plaza as they came around the inn to enter its common room. Within the dim interior, they found the proprietor hastily directing others to clean, as he wiped the bar himself. It seemed the place had been quite lively the night before, and though it was afternoon, the aftermath was still being taken care of.</p><p></p><p>The obsequious innkeeper, Barton Digits, greeted them effusively, and led them up to the second floor where the entrances to two suites across the narrow lacquer-paneled hall from each other were open. A hand-painted sign next to the door on the left had an arrow pointing towards it. It said, “<em>Schiereiland Charter Luncheon”</em>. </p><p></p><p>Bleys Winter was prompt as he always was. Seventeen stone and four inches over six feet, he cut an impressive figure in his dark purple watch-mage’s robes filigreed in silver, which he in an unusual style, more like a travel cloak than robes. The collar of a crimson shirt stuck out from beneath his studded leather armor. Bleys had long dark locks; dark eyes and was clean-shaven. He nodded to his father’s words, but his eyes were following the woman who had greeted them upon arrival to the posh suite. She was Euleria Finch, and now she was greeting three newcomers Bleys did not recognize. Bleys’ father, Callum Winter, stood no less straight for being nearly four inches shorter than his son. He looked much like Bleys, but with twenty years on his face.</p><p></p><p>“Welcome. You do us honor,” Euleria said to Markos, Laarus and Jansen as they walked in. She was tall for a woman, with freckled olive skin, and a build like an awkward teenage boy. She wore trousers, a shirt and vest much as a man might, if this were not Thricia, where robes and even kilts are the habit. Her short dark hair did not do much to feminize her, but she had wide and welcoming smile, and looked each noble in the eye with respectful acknowledgement. She explained that not all the other guests and signers of the charter had arrived yet, and directed them to the opulent spread of food on one table. Beside it on another smaller table, amid plates and bowls, was a small cask of ale, and several bottles of wine. A wench was present to serve the food, and was perplexed by Markos’ attempt to serve himself and the apology that followed it.</p><p></p><p>There were other guests already present and arriving. A tall man of significant girth eating from a plate filled with cheese, fruit and bread, and slurping wine from a glass he was resting on a small end table. He had long curly locks, and a round youthful face with very red cheeks. He wore a floppy burgundy beret, and a lyre resting on a chair nearby. He appeared to be in his forties. An obvious Librarian of Thoth walked in, perhaps in his late twenties. He dragged his left leg a bit, and had a portion of his head shaved to reveal where an old black scar told of near fatal wound. He nodded awkwardly to Euleria Finch and sat in a corner to write in a journal he carried, along with a wooden folder tied with ribbons and holding scrolls of some kind.</p><p></p><p>------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>“It’s always so damn hot!” Agamemnon Briareus swore. He dabbed at beads of sweat on his balding head with a kerchief, and cursed again, as he flicked at the heavy brocaded woolen coat he wore. “Ra’s damned Tenbrooks and their damn weather! No wonder they are always at each others throats down here. It is too hot for men or beasts!” He was burly man of no great height, but his width gave anyone walking past him pause. Though his hairline was receding, the middle-aged man has long locks of blond hair and rugged good looks.</p><p></p><p>“I am sure the people of Sluetelot are used to the climate,” Timotheus replied. Agamemnon glared at his nephew, and Telémakhos risked a surreptitious look of warning to his cousin, being more aware of his father’s ill-tempers. Timotheus smiled broadly, uncaring. He wore a blue kilt, a brown leather vest, and a white tunic with blue piping. Copper gleamed on his left wrist in the form of the stylized broken manacle of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Nephthys" target="_blank">Nephthys</a>. His reddish-blond hair cut short and his square jaw was clean-shaven, keeping him youthful despite his soldier’s gait and tall broad frame. He wore a saber at his side.</p><p></p><p>At Death & Taxes, Barton Digits’ voice quavered with fear in the presence of Agamemnon Briarius. He led the three nobles to the suite and Euleria Finch immediately came over from where she spoke to corpulent man with the lyre to introduce herself.</p><p></p><p>“Ra’s damn it,” Agamemnon swore under his breath. “Who invited the gimp?” Telémakhos looked up and saw his lame older brother closing his book and standing, walking over with his ever-present difficulty to greet them. Telie felt the red flash of guilt on his face that he always felt when around his brother, since the time of the accident that left him so afflicted. He adjusted his pristine white toga, with its red sash and gold chain, and patted at the perfect golden curls that framed his almost girlish face, looking down uncomfortably as he shook his brother Nikephorus’ hand. Agamemnon barely grunted his greeting, but Timotheus greeted his cousin with genuine warmth, asking after his health. As Telémakhos’ looked up his eyesight trailed to notice a woman standing near the back of the suite. She was nearly as tall as Telie, who was no giant among men, and had long dark hair, alabaster skin, large blue eyes and an ample bosom. She had a beauty that would be hard to forget, and while Telémakhos knew her to be Lavinia Vanderboren, he was having a harder time remembering if they had ever shared a liaison. She was the daughter of sometime business associates of his family, but if he recalled correctly, her parents had both died only a few months before.</p><p></p><p>Euleria explained what the agenda for the luncheon was, and how they were waiting for the arrival of one more of the charter’s prospective members. Timotheus upset the serving wench by serving himself, and Sir Agamemnon immediately ordered the girl to hand him a flagon of wine. Telémakhos considered approaching the woman in the back of the fine suite, but there were more arrivals.</p><p></p><p>A short glabrous priest of Ra arrived in a maroon cassock with a broad golden torc about his neck. He was Dracius of Ra, a former mentor of the young priest Laarus Raymer, and he went over to greet one of his favorite students. A man of undeterminable age came in, he was certainly among the oldest in the room, but his face still seemed young despite his pug nose and droopy eyes; Blond was growing in at the roots of his long dyed black hair. He wore a woolen green kilt and a white shirt of lighter fabric, with a golden vest. A man, perhaps in his late thirties, of medium build and with the short dark hair, curled beard and olive complexion of a <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Herman-lander" target="_blank">Herman-Lander</a> entered. He wore brown woolen trousers, and light navy blue coat over a cream colored shirt. A middle-aged woman, most of her youthful beauty gone to replaced by a distinguished visage that was no less attractive, walked into the suite. She wore the long black traditional habit of a <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Priestesses+of+Isis" target="_blank">priestess of Isis</a> with its silver colored front and collar. Among her long dark brown locks were thin braids ending in bright beads. About her neck was a silver holy symbol; an ankh resting in the curve of crescent moon. She was Leisel of Isis.</p><p></p><p>Soon after, a young woman dressed in scale mail and carrying a spear arrived. She was tall, with short dark hair, and dark eyes. She wore a holy symbol of silver in the shape of a small stylized spear about her neck. It had an ankh etched on it. She was accompanied by a man who had a similar serious countenance, but his dark hair was thinning and he was much older. He too wore armor, and had the obvious stature of a knight. This was confirmed when Euleria welcomed him as Sir Lionel Ostrander, and shook his daughter, Victoria’s hand as well.</p><p></p><p>So finally, everyone was there. Euleria coughed to get everyone’s attention and called the would-be signers up to the front of the room. She began to speak.</p><p></p><p>“We are honored on this day to take part in and witness the signing of the historical adventuring charter by the young sons and daughters of Thricia, for their own benefit, that of their houses, and that of the people of Thricia. In honor of this charter, the Margrave has sent a gift. She has hired me and paid in advance for a year of my services as steward for the group. Whatever is needed, whatever logistics… I shall do my best to acquire, achieve and serve. I will book passage, inquire for lodging, arrange interviews and grant whatever aid in planning and execution you may need of me. And when you are abroad on explorations and quests, I shall look after your interests more locally. When the year is over, you may review my efforts and decide at that time whether you would like to keep me on in a role as steward, and pay my usual salary.”</p><p></p><p>She paused and smiled, and looked at Victoria, Telémakhos, Timotheus, Markos, Bleys and Laarus in turn.</p><p></p><p>“In addition, other Houses have sent generous gifts,” she continued. “<a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Tenbrook" target="_blank">House Tenbrook</a> have paid that this and the suite across the hall be at your service for seven months. This includes meals and drink served here. However, anything purchased in the common room downstairs must be paid for as normal. From <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Barhyte" target="_blank">House Barhyte</a>, notable and honorable liege of both <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Ostrander" target="_blank">House Ostrander</a> and <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Briareus" target="_blank">House Briareus</a>, you have free stabling and care of your horses for an equal time while here in Sluetelot. <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Curen" target="_blank">House Curen</a>, the liege of <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Raymer" target="_blank">House Raymer</a>, has arranged discounted prices for courses and training at the University of Thricia in Moon City, if it is availed of within three years.”</p><p></p><p>There was polite applause, and Telémakhos raised his mug to the man with the dyed hair and droopy eyes. He recognized him as Joezyn Barhyte, uncle of the head of that house, and an influential man in mercantile industry.</p><p></p><p>Nikephorus stepped forwards slowly and pulled from his folder two long sheaves of parchment. Upon them in a clear and elegant hand were the words of the charter. Euleria took them from the priest with a bow, and laid one copy on a table, and held up the other. As no one volunteered to read it aloud when she asked, she did the honors.</p><p>----</p><p></p><p><strong><span style="font-size: 15px">The Schiereiland Adventuring Charter</span></strong></p><p></p><p>We, the undersigned, as duly designated representatives of our most noble Houses, do join ourselves in solidarity of arms and fraternity of spirit in service of the common good. In doing so, we knowingly and with sober intent assume the duties of Noble Adventurers under the auspices of the Crown of Thricia, with all rights and responsibilities legally appertaining thereunto. We do solemnly swear in the names of the gods, our most noble Houses, and Her Majesty, the Margrave Katherine Pepper, to adhere to the following principles:</p><ol> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To obey the laws and uphold the values of the Crown of Thricia;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To place the interests of the Crown, as embodied in our most <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Thrician+Noble+Houses" target="_blank">noble Houses</a>, above all personal interests;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To battle the enemies of the Crown and of the people wheresoever we may encounter them;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To hold true to one another in the face of peril;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To bring glory without loss of integrity to ourselves and our Houses;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To behave in public with such decorum as befits nobles of Thricia;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To grant all members of our company an equal voice in determining our path and number, irrespective of wealth or status, except where outlined differently in this document;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To follow the wisdom of our people and culture and always have among our number a representative of the <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Academy+of+Wizardry" target="_blank">Academy of Wizardry</a> as a full and equal member;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ol"> To divide all spoils by a number equal to the number of members of our company plus one, with the extra share being divided by the founding Houses of this charter, Ostrander, Briareus and Raymer. Additional payments to these Houses are otherwise left to agreements reached with their members to be paid out of their personal share;</li> </ol><p>We call upon Isis to guard us from harm, Ra to light our way, Anhur to guide our blades, Fallon to show us compassion, and Nephthys to grant us courage. May Thoth bear witness to this document, and may He inscribe our names in his Book of Truth.</p><p></p><p><em>Signed this day, the 9th of Sek, in the year 637 M.Y.,</em></p><p></p><p>----</p><p></p><p>She placed the copy she read from on the table, and Nikephorus of Thoth placed a small bottle of ink and a quill beside it. Laarus of Ra did not hesitate and was the first to sign both copies, with Bleys the Aubergine right behind him. Victoria of Anhur signed next, but Timotheus looked at the paper again before signing, and though Telémakhos signed right off, the observant might have noticed the slight quiver of his hands. Markos Ackers seemed to be in no rush, and everyone else had signed and stepped away from the table when he came over and signed both copies with a quiet sigh.</p><p></p><p>“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Charter of Schiereiland!” Euleria Finch gestured broadly to the six young nobles, and this time the applause was more enthusiastic. Glasses and mugs were raised and toasts were given to honor them.</p><p></p><p><em>to be continued. . .</em></p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p><strong>Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>(1) The first session of the “Second Son of a Second Son” campaign was played on Sunday, January 21, 2007.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="el-remmen, post: 3368129, member: 11"] [b]Session #1: “A Party at Sluetelot” (part 1 of 3)[/b] (1) [I]As the drunken haze that was mistaken for a corona of glory about the sigils of their Houses faded away with morning, word came of the great disaster in the [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/City+of+the+Spices]City of the Spices[/url]. All the people of [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Thricia]Thricia[/url] were united in their horror and sympathy at the event, and it seemed a poor time for these minor houses to announce the creation of their adventuring charter, and their quest for riches and notoriety…. But not one of the Houses wanted to be the first to suggest delaying or canceling the agreement, but what was to be an event worthy of a great banquet and ostentatious party became humbler and humbler, and fewer people could be expected to take part for fear of appearing disrespectful. Most people see what is now being called “[url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Agon%27s+Cold+Revenge]the God-king’s Cold Revenge[/url]” as an ill-omen of a bad time coming, but in her great speech from the steps of the High Temple of Isis, the [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Margrave]Margrave[/url] said that Thricia was to go on as it always had. So when she heard of the charter, she openly encouraged it in court and declared she would be sending “the young sons and daughters of Thricia a gift to aid them”. As Lord Paullion Tenbrook V was present at court when this was announced, he felt the need to send a gift as well, and the small, but tasteful banquet in honor of the charter’s official signing will be held in private suites in the inn locally known as ‘Death & Taxes’ in the town of [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Sluetelot]Sluetelot[/url] on the 9th of Sek, also known as [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Holiday+-+Day+of+Honors]Anhur’s Day of Honors[/url].[/I] The mid-spring warmth of [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Ra%27s+Glory]Ra’s Glory[/url], washed over the town of Sluetelot in golden waves, distorting the distant glare of [url= http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Captured+Sea]the Captured Sea[/url] to the west. Markos Ackers was saddened to step off the sloop, as it reminded him of what might have been a happier times – Happy then, but not always happy to think of now. Of average height and very slender build, he flicked his cloak off and immediately a servant took it from him. “The page will bring your horse to the stables,” his father said as he returned from the Harbormaster’s office. “Stabling has been arranged for everyone in the charter.” Jansen turned to the tall young man with the reddish-blond hair, and bright red cassock. The cassock was woven with golden threads that held tiny gems in place in an intricate brocade about the shoulders and chest. He had sharp features and hazel eyes. About his neck was a golden solar disk emblazoned with an ankh. “Laarus, perhaps if you need a horse as well, you can inquire about purchasing or borrowing one there later.” The young priest nodded to his uncle, and then the three began to walk into town. Markos and Laarus looked up at the great walls and towers of Havesting with awe. They could see tiny figures scrambling around siege engines, and atop the balustrade of a great sea wall that reached out into the harbor to reach the shrine of Tefnut, and divide the port into two large areas. Everywhere was the cry of men and gulls, and the cracking of the wind and the creaking of ships. In his forties and well-traveled due to his working for House Raymer’s nascent mercantile business, Jansen Ackers was less impressed. He had brown curly hair worn to the shoulders, in Thrician style. If he and his son had the same complexion, it was only because Markos was weathered a soft-brown by his years at sea, making his yellow hair seem even brighter. Sluetelot was a big town, and growing still. It was a collection of white and blue houses, many with tin roofs, but some had roofs of blue slate. A white stone wall surrounded what locals called [I]Old Town[/I], and where the town had grown beyond the wall, was called “[I]New Sluetelot[/I]”. They had to walk through the harbor fortress itself, where Jansen’s credentials, and the respect given a priest of [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Ra]Ra[/url] got them through the lines of the many visitors waiting to be allowed into the town very quickly. They were reminded of the peace knot law ordinance in effect in Sluetelot, but no one bothered to check their weapons. The main thoroughfare out of the fortress led right to the middle of town, where the Death & Taxes Inn and the luncheon in honor of the signing of Charter of [url= http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Schiereiland]Schiereiland[/url] would take place. “Father, I am still confused as to why this is such a small affair,” Markos asked Jansen. “I mean, after the tragedy of the City of the Spices, would not a great party in honor of this charter raise morale? Especially, if one believes that it shall really be for the benefit of the people of Thricia, that is…” “Well, that Margrave gave her blessing… What more can be asked for?” Laarus interjected. “A great banquet might have been nice,” Jansen replied. “But I think it is better to come in quietly and later be noticed, than to be announced only to disappoint.” Laarus nodded in agreement. “I just hope we can use this charter as an opportunity to actually help people, and not just some political ploy,” Markos said. “The margrave has ever stood to defend the people against the tyranny of Thricia’s nobles,” Jansen smiled with his obvious sarcasm. He opened his fine vest, and undid a button of his silk shirt, as the walk in the sun was beginning to make him sweat. “If she has given her approval, it is because she believes it will be helpful to Thricia in some way.” “Yes, I am sure she has her reasons, even if they are not readily apparent,” Markos replied, as they came into view of the inn. Death & Taxes was situated at the corner to the entrance to what was called “the Great Meeting Well Plaza”, or sometimes “central Market”, as nearly everyday merchants hawked their wears all about the great marble lipped well in the plaza’s center. The inn was a two-story building, with ivy growing up one side and over most of the sloped roof. There was a garden in front with wooden benches that faced the overgrown and unkempt yard of a cottage across the way. Laarus made out the spire of a temple of [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Isis]Isis[/url] across the plaza as they came around the inn to enter its common room. Within the dim interior, they found the proprietor hastily directing others to clean, as he wiped the bar himself. It seemed the place had been quite lively the night before, and though it was afternoon, the aftermath was still being taken care of. The obsequious innkeeper, Barton Digits, greeted them effusively, and led them up to the second floor where the entrances to two suites across the narrow lacquer-paneled hall from each other were open. A hand-painted sign next to the door on the left had an arrow pointing towards it. It said, “[I]Schiereiland Charter Luncheon”[/I]. Bleys Winter was prompt as he always was. Seventeen stone and four inches over six feet, he cut an impressive figure in his dark purple watch-mage’s robes filigreed in silver, which he in an unusual style, more like a travel cloak than robes. The collar of a crimson shirt stuck out from beneath his studded leather armor. Bleys had long dark locks; dark eyes and was clean-shaven. He nodded to his father’s words, but his eyes were following the woman who had greeted them upon arrival to the posh suite. She was Euleria Finch, and now she was greeting three newcomers Bleys did not recognize. Bleys’ father, Callum Winter, stood no less straight for being nearly four inches shorter than his son. He looked much like Bleys, but with twenty years on his face. “Welcome. You do us honor,” Euleria said to Markos, Laarus and Jansen as they walked in. She was tall for a woman, with freckled olive skin, and a build like an awkward teenage boy. She wore trousers, a shirt and vest much as a man might, if this were not Thricia, where robes and even kilts are the habit. Her short dark hair did not do much to feminize her, but she had wide and welcoming smile, and looked each noble in the eye with respectful acknowledgement. She explained that not all the other guests and signers of the charter had arrived yet, and directed them to the opulent spread of food on one table. Beside it on another smaller table, amid plates and bowls, was a small cask of ale, and several bottles of wine. A wench was present to serve the food, and was perplexed by Markos’ attempt to serve himself and the apology that followed it. There were other guests already present and arriving. A tall man of significant girth eating from a plate filled with cheese, fruit and bread, and slurping wine from a glass he was resting on a small end table. He had long curly locks, and a round youthful face with very red cheeks. He wore a floppy burgundy beret, and a lyre resting on a chair nearby. He appeared to be in his forties. An obvious Librarian of Thoth walked in, perhaps in his late twenties. He dragged his left leg a bit, and had a portion of his head shaved to reveal where an old black scar told of near fatal wound. He nodded awkwardly to Euleria Finch and sat in a corner to write in a journal he carried, along with a wooden folder tied with ribbons and holding scrolls of some kind. ------------------------------------ “It’s always so damn hot!” Agamemnon Briareus swore. He dabbed at beads of sweat on his balding head with a kerchief, and cursed again, as he flicked at the heavy brocaded woolen coat he wore. “Ra’s damned Tenbrooks and their damn weather! No wonder they are always at each others throats down here. It is too hot for men or beasts!” He was burly man of no great height, but his width gave anyone walking past him pause. Though his hairline was receding, the middle-aged man has long locks of blond hair and rugged good looks. “I am sure the people of Sluetelot are used to the climate,” Timotheus replied. Agamemnon glared at his nephew, and Telémakhos risked a surreptitious look of warning to his cousin, being more aware of his father’s ill-tempers. Timotheus smiled broadly, uncaring. He wore a blue kilt, a brown leather vest, and a white tunic with blue piping. Copper gleamed on his left wrist in the form of the stylized broken manacle of [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Nephthys]Nephthys[/url]. His reddish-blond hair cut short and his square jaw was clean-shaven, keeping him youthful despite his soldier’s gait and tall broad frame. He wore a saber at his side. At Death & Taxes, Barton Digits’ voice quavered with fear in the presence of Agamemnon Briarius. He led the three nobles to the suite and Euleria Finch immediately came over from where she spoke to corpulent man with the lyre to introduce herself. “Ra’s damn it,” Agamemnon swore under his breath. “Who invited the gimp?” Telémakhos looked up and saw his lame older brother closing his book and standing, walking over with his ever-present difficulty to greet them. Telie felt the red flash of guilt on his face that he always felt when around his brother, since the time of the accident that left him so afflicted. He adjusted his pristine white toga, with its red sash and gold chain, and patted at the perfect golden curls that framed his almost girlish face, looking down uncomfortably as he shook his brother Nikephorus’ hand. Agamemnon barely grunted his greeting, but Timotheus greeted his cousin with genuine warmth, asking after his health. As Telémakhos’ looked up his eyesight trailed to notice a woman standing near the back of the suite. She was nearly as tall as Telie, who was no giant among men, and had long dark hair, alabaster skin, large blue eyes and an ample bosom. She had a beauty that would be hard to forget, and while Telémakhos knew her to be Lavinia Vanderboren, he was having a harder time remembering if they had ever shared a liaison. She was the daughter of sometime business associates of his family, but if he recalled correctly, her parents had both died only a few months before. Euleria explained what the agenda for the luncheon was, and how they were waiting for the arrival of one more of the charter’s prospective members. Timotheus upset the serving wench by serving himself, and Sir Agamemnon immediately ordered the girl to hand him a flagon of wine. Telémakhos considered approaching the woman in the back of the fine suite, but there were more arrivals. A short glabrous priest of Ra arrived in a maroon cassock with a broad golden torc about his neck. He was Dracius of Ra, a former mentor of the young priest Laarus Raymer, and he went over to greet one of his favorite students. A man of undeterminable age came in, he was certainly among the oldest in the room, but his face still seemed young despite his pug nose and droopy eyes; Blond was growing in at the roots of his long dyed black hair. He wore a woolen green kilt and a white shirt of lighter fabric, with a golden vest. A man, perhaps in his late thirties, of medium build and with the short dark hair, curled beard and olive complexion of a [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Herman-lander]Herman-Lander[/url] entered. He wore brown woolen trousers, and light navy blue coat over a cream colored shirt. A middle-aged woman, most of her youthful beauty gone to replaced by a distinguished visage that was no less attractive, walked into the suite. She wore the long black traditional habit of a [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Priestesses+of+Isis]priestess of Isis[/url] with its silver colored front and collar. Among her long dark brown locks were thin braids ending in bright beads. About her neck was a silver holy symbol; an ankh resting in the curve of crescent moon. She was Leisel of Isis. Soon after, a young woman dressed in scale mail and carrying a spear arrived. She was tall, with short dark hair, and dark eyes. She wore a holy symbol of silver in the shape of a small stylized spear about her neck. It had an ankh etched on it. She was accompanied by a man who had a similar serious countenance, but his dark hair was thinning and he was much older. He too wore armor, and had the obvious stature of a knight. This was confirmed when Euleria welcomed him as Sir Lionel Ostrander, and shook his daughter, Victoria’s hand as well. So finally, everyone was there. Euleria coughed to get everyone’s attention and called the would-be signers up to the front of the room. She began to speak. “We are honored on this day to take part in and witness the signing of the historical adventuring charter by the young sons and daughters of Thricia, for their own benefit, that of their houses, and that of the people of Thricia. In honor of this charter, the Margrave has sent a gift. She has hired me and paid in advance for a year of my services as steward for the group. Whatever is needed, whatever logistics… I shall do my best to acquire, achieve and serve. I will book passage, inquire for lodging, arrange interviews and grant whatever aid in planning and execution you may need of me. And when you are abroad on explorations and quests, I shall look after your interests more locally. When the year is over, you may review my efforts and decide at that time whether you would like to keep me on in a role as steward, and pay my usual salary.” She paused and smiled, and looked at Victoria, Telémakhos, Timotheus, Markos, Bleys and Laarus in turn. “In addition, other Houses have sent generous gifts,” she continued. “[url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Tenbrook]House Tenbrook[/url] have paid that this and the suite across the hall be at your service for seven months. This includes meals and drink served here. However, anything purchased in the common room downstairs must be paid for as normal. From [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Barhyte]House Barhyte[/url], notable and honorable liege of both [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Ostrander]House Ostrander[/url] and [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Briareus]House Briareus[/url], you have free stabling and care of your horses for an equal time while here in Sluetelot. [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Curen]House Curen[/url], the liege of [url= http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/House+Raymer]House Raymer[/url], has arranged discounted prices for courses and training at the University of Thricia in Moon City, if it is availed of within three years.” There was polite applause, and Telémakhos raised his mug to the man with the dyed hair and droopy eyes. He recognized him as Joezyn Barhyte, uncle of the head of that house, and an influential man in mercantile industry. Nikephorus stepped forwards slowly and pulled from his folder two long sheaves of parchment. Upon them in a clear and elegant hand were the words of the charter. Euleria took them from the priest with a bow, and laid one copy on a table, and held up the other. As no one volunteered to read it aloud when she asked, she did the honors. ---- [b][size=4]The Schiereiland Adventuring Charter[/size][/b] We, the undersigned, as duly designated representatives of our most noble Houses, do join ourselves in solidarity of arms and fraternity of spirit in service of the common good. In doing so, we knowingly and with sober intent assume the duties of Noble Adventurers under the auspices of the Crown of Thricia, with all rights and responsibilities legally appertaining thereunto. We do solemnly swear in the names of the gods, our most noble Houses, and Her Majesty, the Margrave Katherine Pepper, to adhere to the following principles: [list=1] [*] To obey the laws and uphold the values of the Crown of Thricia; [*] To place the interests of the Crown, as embodied in our most [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Thrician+Noble+Houses]noble Houses[/url], above all personal interests; [*] To battle the enemies of the Crown and of the people wheresoever we may encounter them; [*] To hold true to one another in the face of peril; [*] To bring glory without loss of integrity to ourselves and our Houses; [*] To behave in public with such decorum as befits nobles of Thricia; [*] To grant all members of our company an equal voice in determining our path and number, irrespective of wealth or status, except where outlined differently in this document; [*] To follow the wisdom of our people and culture and always have among our number a representative of the [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Academy+of+Wizardry]Academy of Wizardry[/url] as a full and equal member; [*] To divide all spoils by a number equal to the number of members of our company plus one, with the extra share being divided by the founding Houses of this charter, Ostrander, Briareus and Raymer. Additional payments to these Houses are otherwise left to agreements reached with their members to be paid out of their personal share; [/list] We call upon Isis to guard us from harm, Ra to light our way, Anhur to guide our blades, Fallon to show us compassion, and Nephthys to grant us courage. May Thoth bear witness to this document, and may He inscribe our names in his Book of Truth. [I]Signed this day, the 9th of Sek, in the year 637 M.Y.,[/I] ---- She placed the copy she read from on the table, and Nikephorus of Thoth placed a small bottle of ink and a quill beside it. Laarus of Ra did not hesitate and was the first to sign both copies, with Bleys the Aubergine right behind him. Victoria of Anhur signed next, but Timotheus looked at the paper again before signing, and though Telémakhos signed right off, the observant might have noticed the slight quiver of his hands. Markos Ackers seemed to be in no rush, and everyone else had signed and stepped away from the table when he came over and signed both copies with a quiet sigh. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Charter of Schiereiland!” Euleria Finch gestured broadly to the six young nobles, and this time the applause was more enthusiastic. Glasses and mugs were raised and toasts were given to honor them. [i]to be continued. . .[/i] ------------------------------------------------------------------ [b]Notes:[/b] (1) The first session of the “Second Son of a Second Son” campaign was played on Sunday, January 21, 2007. [/QUOTE]
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"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
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