Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="el-remmen" data-source="post: 4667102" data-attributes="member: 11"><p><strong>Session #31 – “The Darkness of the Deep Mire” (part 1 of 2)</strong> [sup]1[/sup]</p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 18px">Osilem, the 24th of Syet – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)</span></p><p></p><p>The nippy autumn morning found Markos Ackers going between different companions to talk about his horse. Having procured a wagon in which to move the prisoners and wounded to the Tarchon Steads, the Signers combed the estate for all weapons and other contraband to bring along as well at Bleys’s request. Markos was amazed that his newly purchased warhorse was so well trained and was worried that using it in combat might be cruel. It had been injured in the previous day’s combat against MacHaven’s men.</p><p></p><p>Bleys was blunt and continued working as he replied. “A horse is a tool like any other, and a warhorse is named such because it is a tool for war. It is a sturdy animal. It shall take time to heal, but it shall. And if it should take such a wound that it would not recover, then it will be put out of its misery and replaced, such is the way with horses…”</p><p></p><p>Unsatisfied, Markos approached his cousin, but Laarus was also short with him, refusing to call on Ra to heal the horse. “It will heal on its own,” the young priest said.</p><p></p><p>Finally Markos went to Victoria Ostrander. “My cousin doesn’t think my horse is worthy of his god’s attentions.”</p><p></p><p>“Did it do anything unworthy?” Victoria asked with a rare smile.</p><p></p><p>“No, just the opposite. It fought… uh, bravely, I guess you’d say, even when beset by dogs. I feel bad that it was wounded for our purposes…” Markos explained. “I am used to being at sea, and not having to deal with animals as mounts…”</p><p></p><p>“And you’ve grown attached to it…” Victoria was still smiling.</p><p></p><p>“No! I just feel for its pain as a living creature is all,” Markos protested. “And I am fascinated with how well it has been trained… It even listens to me who has little experience with such beasts. I was hoping you’d have more empathy and compassion than Bleys or Laarus.”</p><p></p><p>“The horse has served you well and thus has served us all well,” Victoria said, and she walked over to the stable and called to her god, closing the horse’s wounds.</p><p></p><p>“Hey, boss!” Timotheus called to Bleys about an hour later when two oxen were hitched to the wagon, and the prisoners were being moved into it. “We bringing this stuff, too?” He pointed at some farm tools.</p><p></p><p>“He is <em>NOT</em> the boss!” Markos barked.</p><p></p><p>“Actually, did we not vote Bleys the party leader some time ago?” Victoria said. Tim nodded his agreement. [sup]2[/sup]</p><p></p><p>“I don’t remember ever agreeing to that!” Markos pouted. The argument continued when Telémahkos came over and mocked the small mage for his tantrum, but Bleys never commented.</p><p></p><p>“If he doesn’t like you calling the watch-mage ‘Boss’, call him ‘chief’ instead,” Tavius grinned to Timotheus.</p><p></p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>It took about an hour longer to reach the Tarchon Steads with the loaded wagon that it had for them to reach the Vanderboren property from there the night before.</p><p></p><p>“Hail! Did you find what you were looking for?” Baxter Morningfire called when he greeted them on the road into the Tarchon property. He wore a floppy wide-brimmed leather hat and dull brown overalls. </p><p></p><p>“We found MacHaven’s Brood!” Timotheus called back with a grin as he gestured into the wagon.</p><p></p><p>“Really?” The steward said, running over with a couple of his workers to look in the wagon.</p><p></p><p>“Some of them, anyway,” Victoria said.</p><p></p><p>“The master of the steads has arrived before dawn,” Baxter said smiling. “Let us take your horses and lock up these prisoners and I will have someone feed you while Sir Valerius is informed. I am sure he will want to discuss this with you…”</p><p></p><p>“And us with him…” Bleys replied.</p><p></p><p>Sir Valerius Euthymius Tarchon greeted them warmly. He was a tall handsome man with long brown hair, and a well-kempt beard and no mustache (in the Swann style). He came to them as they ate at some benches in a hall not unlike that they had slept in the night before in the Vanderboren Stead longhouse. Tavius of Bog End excused himself.</p><p></p><p>“So these are the infamous Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland,” he said with a half-smile, clapping his large calloused hands. </p><p></p><p>“We call ourselves the Scions of Thricia,” Telémahkos said. Timotheus coughed his disagreement, but Bleys went into an explanation of what had happened at the Vanderboren Stead before the usual bickering could erupt before their noble host. Timotheus quickly got into the spirit of it, interjecting descriptions of the battle when appropriate. Telémahkos went on to explain about the connection between the bandits, the lizardfolk and whoever was sending the plagues of locusts.</p><p></p><p>Valerius nodded his understanding. “My son told me of your group soon after he and Sir Quintus returned from New Harbinger after you aided him during that… misunderstanding with the Gold Straw Lizardfolk,” he said. “I must admit I was surprised when I heard they had become hostile, as I was led to believe that you…” He looked to Bleys. “…were brokering some kind of alliance with them and young Lord Swann… I have just recently returned from seeking out my son in the bog, hoping beyond hope that he might still be among the living… But nothing turned up…”</p><p></p><p>“How goes the fight against the lizardfolk?” Bleys asked.</p><p></p><p>“Strangely…” Valerius said. “They fight, but they are not aggressive, and often flee… Sir Septimias Benedict Swann insists that they are to be chased down and destroyed…”</p><p></p><p>“Sir… There is a tragedy going on in that bog…” Markos said.</p><p></p><p>“And we also fear there may be a tragedy here in Moraes Heng,” Telémahkos interjected. “We fear that people may come to think Lavinia Vanderboren is somehow involved with MacHaven…”</p><p></p><p>“I doubt it…” Valerius dismissed the notion. “I know the girl and her parents… She is likely being taken advantage of now that her parents are gone…”</p><p></p><p>Sir Valerius Euthymius Tarchon agreed to bring the prisoners to Gullmoor, and to have their horses transported there as well. He also said that after talking to the Viceroy he planned to return to the Crossroads Bog and continue to seek out his son, but that he would also try speaking to Thricius of Anhur in hopes of rethinking the assault on the lizardfolk.</p><p></p><p>“Leaving now?” Valerius said when the discussion and meal were over.</p><p></p><p>“I see no reason to delay,” Timotheus replied.</p><p></p><p>“I concur,” said Bleys.</p><p></p><p>“May <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Isis" target="_blank">Isis</a> guide you,” Sir Valerius said.</p><p></p><p>Stashing some of their heavier gear with their horses, they repacked the packhorse’s saddle and Tavius’s pony and brought those with them. Their lanky guide began to bring them northeast to the pass that would bring them down to the shadow of Moraes Heng and then around to the deep mire of the Glitcheegumme Swamp.</p><p></p><p>Tavius led them on a damp trail that was flanked on one side by thick foliage drooping in the cold and showing signs of having been damaged by frost, and on the other side the muddy red cliff wall of the plateau they had come down from. As they marched the topic of the group’s name came up again. Timotheus hated the name ‘Scions of Thricia,’</p><p></p><p>“Well, ‘Sons of Thricia’ excludes Victoria,” Telémahkos said.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t care,” said Victoria.</p><p></p><p>“I abhor ‘Sons’” said Bleys.</p><p></p><p>“Then let’s go back to ‘Signers’ until we come up with something better,” Timotheus suggested.</p><p></p><p>“I <em>hate</em> ‘Signers’ most of all,” Markos complained, and the bickering took off again.</p><p></p><p>Annoyed with their argumentativeness, Tavius eventually turned to them with a serious face and said, “There can be dangers in this swamp. We all need to be quiet now…” The young nobles acquiesced.</p><p></p><p> By noontime, the weather was much warmer, and the water swirled in warm eddies and currents around and beside them. In some places, the ambient light was dusky because of the overhang of trees.</p><p> Finally they came to deep shining green patch of water beyond which were a bunch of islands of myriad sizes, each cloistered with thick brush and drooping willows. </p><p></p><p>“It is always warm in this part of the swamp all winter long,” Tavius explained. “And in the summer it is unbearable…”</p><p></p><p>“What causes this warmth?” asked Markos. The guide just shrugged his shoulders.</p><p></p><p>They were forced to wade across the murky water, Tavius in the lead drawing the pony, which basically swam most of the way, and Bleys behind drawing the packhorse, which also struggled and kicked at the deepest parts. The water never reached past chest height for the tallest of the Signers, but Markos, Laarus and Victoria had to hold their heads up in several places to keep their mouths away from the pungent water. The area they approached was darker, and they could head the croaks of frogs and toads and the chittering of many insects. It was a long way to wade and all told they were in that deep water for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Halfway along, Timotheus noticed some movement in the water far off to their left, something sliding off one of the islands and plopping into the water. He warned the others who did their best to quicken their pace; causing Markos to lose his balance and splash face first into the water. Telémahkos and Tavius laughed. When Tavius finally led them up to drier land (for there was no truly <em>dry</em> land around here at all), they stopped to check themselves and the animals for leeches.</p><p></p><p>From there the guide brought them over several small islands broken up by babbling brooks and streams, most only a few feet apart, but occasionally they had to wade thigh deep in the green muck again. It was nearly two hours later when they heard the horrid singing echoing over the trees.</p><p></p><p>”That’s the old man…” Tavius said.</p><p></p><p>“That’s some set of pipes on that hermit!” Timotheus smiled.</p><p></p><p>“That’s Markos’ future we’re listening to,” Telémahkos jabbed. Markos scowled.</p><p></p><p>Leaving the mounts behind they quietly moved ahead to look at the clearing beyond. There was a small shack built with what was obviously local wood and patchwork roof of thatch and sticks. It had a small raised porch and a worn wooden door, painted a faded red. About sixty feet in front of it was a rickety dock that stretched out into deep murky water, and tied to it was a large rowboat. Between the house and the dock was a metal tub with handles next to a stump, and inside the tub was a skinny old man with a big jutting jaw covered in white fuzz except for a blue-black mole under his lip. He was scrubbing his back vigorously in time to his song as suds splashed over the side. The muddy patch of grass the tub was in was dotted with large mushrooms nearly eighteen inches high, about six in all.</p><p></p><p>“<em>Oh! I love your fishy beets! And your great big woman teats! When I get out my fishing keets I get hooked on your fishy beets!</em> His common was accented strangely, like a foreigner of some kind, and his singing warbled and broke like the dying call of the <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Emus" target="_blank">emus</a> of the <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/UKSF" target="_blank">UKSF</a>.</p><p></p><p>After a brief disagreement about who should approach him first, “<em>Not</em> Tim,” Telémahkos had said, emphatically, upsetting his cousin, Telémahkos and Laarus stepped out of the brush and called, “Hello!”</p><p></p><p>“What?!” The old man sat up in his tub. “Finally found me ‘eh?” He jumped out of the basin, suds flying off his pruned naked body, and he made for the shack. As he reached the door he turned around and shook a fist. “Go back to <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Haffar%27s+Port" target="_blank">Haffar’s Port</a>, ya bastids!” The door slammed shut and as they approached they could hear a heavy bar slide into place behind it. A narrow window high up on the front wall few open and the old man pointed a heavy crossbow through the vent. “I knew you’d find me eventually, but I ain’t going without a fight!”</p><p></p><p>“Sir, I am not sure who you think we are, but we certainly did not come here to harm you,” Telémahkos tried to explain.</p><p></p><p>“That’s just what assassins would say!” the man spat back.</p><p></p><p>“I should have gone, I’m a people person…” Timotheus complained.</p><p></p><p>“Naw, that’s just old man Katan, <em>crazy</em>,” Tavius grinned. But Timotheus stood, brushed himself off and walked boldly towards the shack. As old man Katan noticed him he trained the crossbow on him, as Telémahkos continued to explain how they were looking for the old shrine of Apshai in the swamp, and Laarus questioned the man as to who it is from Haffar’s Port that he was so afraid of.</p><p></p><p>“Tell the big man to get back!” Katan growled. “If he tries to bust down the door he’s getting a bolt in the eye!”</p><p></p><p>“We mean no harm,” Timotheus said with his hands in the air, as Telémahkos scowled at him for coming forward. “I liked that song you were singing about the fishy bits…”</p><p></p><p>“So you were spying on me, too? Eh? But still couldn’t the drop on old Katan… It’s been 30 years and I still got it!” The old man laughed. “Just how many of you Red Lantern assassins are there?”</p><p></p><p>Laarus looked to Telémahkos, who snarled when he saw Timotheus look at him, too.</p><p></p><p>“We are not members of the Red Lantern Gang,” Laarus said. “But there are eight of us in total.”</p><p></p><p>“Look!” Markos said to Bleys, Victoria, Tymon and Tavius, while Telémahkos, Timotheus and Laarus turned because they thought they heard something squeak behind them. </p><p></p><p>The mushrooms were moving.[sup]3[/sup]</p><p></p><p>“Ya dang varmints!” Katan bellowed, noticing the strange creatures moving around the tub. They had nubby feet that detached from the ground, narrow, nearly useless arms and big-eyed faces beneath their mushroom-cap heads. They were white and gray, with little patches if red-brown and blue on their caps. They cooed to each other cutely in high-pitched voices.</p><p></p><p>“Bleys! Markos! Mushroom people!” Telémahkos called to his companions who were still hiding. Seeing as there was no reason to continue to do so, the two wizards came forward with Victoria behind them.</p><p></p><p>“Gods dang ‘em! They’re stealing my clothes again!” Katan complained. </p><p></p><p>“Shall we help you get them back?” Timotheus asked with a wide grin.</p><p></p><p>“How do I know you’re not assassins?” Katan asked back.</p><p></p><p>“Because if we were we would have assassinated you by now,” Bleys said. “I am Bleys the Aubergine, watch-mage of the Academy, not a cutthroat assassin…”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, we would not have called out to you,” Telémahkos said. “We would have merely snuck up and killed you in the tub or waited until you went to sleep…”</p><p></p><p>“Maybe you were just trying to make sure you had the right man…” Katan reasoned.</p><p></p><p>“When have you ever known the Red Lanterns to be concerned about who they kill?” Telémahkos asked.</p><p></p><p>”Good point, sonny!” Katan said. “I’ll come out, but if you try anything funny, I swear to <a href="http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Horus" target="_blank">Horus</a>, I will take at least one of you with me!”</p><p></p><p>“Understood.”</p><p></p><p>“Dangnabit! They <em>did</em> take my clothes!” Katan swore, and he threw open the door and went running out to the tub. The little mushroom creatures let out a string of giggles as they hopped down towards the dock clutching Katan’s pants and shirt.</p><p></p><p>“Hey, Laarus! You might want to go arrest them, they’re thieves” Telémahkos said to the priest, mocking.</p><p></p><p>“What are they?” Markos asked, as the creatures tossed the clothes into the muddy water on the bank, forcing Katan to climb down and retrieve them, grumbling about how he’d have to wash them again.</p><p></p><p>“Hells if I know!” Katan said. “They showed up not too long ago, and always bothering me with their singing and tricks… I hate ‘em!”</p><p></p><p>“Are they edible?” Victoria asked. “I wonder what they’d taste like?”</p><p></p><p>“You don’t eat creature like that!” Timotheus protested, but then he stopped short and rubbed his chin. “Though perhaps sautéed in butter? No, no, no! Forget I said that! You can’t eat creatures like this, they are obviously intelligent…”</p><p></p><p>“Well, compared to you…” Markos winked.</p><p></p><p>”Shut up, little man! I’m smart enough!” Timotheus growled, but Markos had already moved on, slowly approaching one of the mushroom creatures with a copper coin, trying to catch the light with it, before placing it on the ground in front of it.</p><p></p><p>“Meep!” The creature turned and hopped away.</p><p></p><p>“Hmm, you know what? I think they think I’m stupid…” Markos said.</p><p></p><p>“Do you think they really so smart to figure that out so quickly?” Telémahkos asked with a laugh.</p><p></p><p>“So what you people disturbing my solitude for?” Katan asked. “I don’t get many… scratch that… <em>any</em> visitors out here…”</p><p></p><p>Once again Telémahkos explained how they were looking for the old hidden shrine of Apshai deeper in the swamp. “Do you know it?”</p><p></p><p>“I might…” Katan replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gots to get dressed…” He walked into his shack.</p><p></p><p>As Telémahkos, Bleys, and Laarus stood by one side of the shack, the priest wondering aloud what it was Katan was hiding. There were hundreds of chicken scratch marks on the side of the shack counting off days and days of Katan’s life here in this isolated place. Meanwhile, Victoria, Timotheus and Markos were over by the dock, continuing to watch the mushroom creatures with great interest. They meeped and peeped and danced and rolled, looking at the party like shy children or enthusiastic dogs. One even let Victoria pick it up and look right into its face. It cooed pleasantly.</p><p></p><p>As she put it back down, the militant cocked her head. “Do you hear that?” But before anyone else could pinpoint it the little mushroom creatures began to sing. It was a lilting impression of old man Katan’s own singing, but with a bizarre inhuman weaving harmony that was actually not unpleasant despite its strangeness. </p><p></p><p>“Shut up out there, ya lousy varmints!” Katan yelled from inside the shack.</p><p></p><p>“They’re trying to drown out the noise,” Victoria said.</p><p></p><p>“What noise?” asked Timotheus.</p><p></p><p>“What was that buzzing?” Telémahkos was asking simultaneously, noticing that Bleys too was looking around for its source. </p><p></p><p>In less than a moment it became clear. Telémahkos flinched as he saw something black come swooping in towards his face, buzzing loudly. He swatted at it ineffectually, but the thing’s proboscis bit down deep into his neck. It was huge mosquito, nearly a foot in length and it was sucking blood out of Telémahkos at an astonishing rate, latched onto him He tried to pull it off, but its grip was too tight, so he scrambled to draw a dagger. </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, as Bleys began the incantation of a spell, another came swooping in to bite on to Laarus’s back, while a second went for Telémahkos, but missed as he dodged wildly.[sup]4[/sup]</p><p></p><p>“Tim! Over there!” Victoria said, drawing her own dagger and charging in that direction when she saw the commotion. Another mosquito darted out of the brush and grabbed hold of her arm and began to draw blood from her as well. Yet another was buzzing around her.</p><p></p><p> Telémahkos moaned as he swerved wildly and stabbed at the creature, but his desire to not stab himself made him simultaneously over cautious, and the thing kept drinking.</p><p></p><p><em>…to be continued…</em></p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------------------------</p><p><strong>Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>[sup]1[/sup] This session was played on Saturday, May 24, 2008 in Maplewood, New Jersey.</p><p></p><p>[sup]2[/sup] This vote occurred back in Session #15. Amazingly, Markos voted for Bleys to take on leadership.</p><p></p><p>[sup]3[/sup] This scenario was taken from the adventure <em>Old Man Katan and the Mushroom Band</em> by Ted James Thomas Zuvich from Dungeon Magazine, Issue #41, May 1993.</p><p></p><p>[sup]4[/sup] Telémahkos used his dodge feat against that one and it missed by one.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="el-remmen, post: 4667102, member: 11"] [b]Session #31 – “The Darkness of the Deep Mire” (part 1 of 2)[/b] [sup]1[/sup] [size=5]Osilem, the 24th of Syet – 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)[/size] The nippy autumn morning found Markos Ackers going between different companions to talk about his horse. Having procured a wagon in which to move the prisoners and wounded to the Tarchon Steads, the Signers combed the estate for all weapons and other contraband to bring along as well at Bleys’s request. Markos was amazed that his newly purchased warhorse was so well trained and was worried that using it in combat might be cruel. It had been injured in the previous day’s combat against MacHaven’s men. Bleys was blunt and continued working as he replied. “A horse is a tool like any other, and a warhorse is named such because it is a tool for war. It is a sturdy animal. It shall take time to heal, but it shall. And if it should take such a wound that it would not recover, then it will be put out of its misery and replaced, such is the way with horses…” Unsatisfied, Markos approached his cousin, but Laarus was also short with him, refusing to call on Ra to heal the horse. “It will heal on its own,” the young priest said. Finally Markos went to Victoria Ostrander. “My cousin doesn’t think my horse is worthy of his god’s attentions.” “Did it do anything unworthy?” Victoria asked with a rare smile. “No, just the opposite. It fought… uh, bravely, I guess you’d say, even when beset by dogs. I feel bad that it was wounded for our purposes…” Markos explained. “I am used to being at sea, and not having to deal with animals as mounts…” “And you’ve grown attached to it…” Victoria was still smiling. “No! I just feel for its pain as a living creature is all,” Markos protested. “And I am fascinated with how well it has been trained… It even listens to me who has little experience with such beasts. I was hoping you’d have more empathy and compassion than Bleys or Laarus.” “The horse has served you well and thus has served us all well,” Victoria said, and she walked over to the stable and called to her god, closing the horse’s wounds. “Hey, boss!” Timotheus called to Bleys about an hour later when two oxen were hitched to the wagon, and the prisoners were being moved into it. “We bringing this stuff, too?” He pointed at some farm tools. “He is [I]NOT[/I] the boss!” Markos barked. “Actually, did we not vote Bleys the party leader some time ago?” Victoria said. Tim nodded his agreement. [sup]2[/sup] “I don’t remember ever agreeing to that!” Markos pouted. The argument continued when Telémahkos came over and mocked the small mage for his tantrum, but Bleys never commented. “If he doesn’t like you calling the watch-mage ‘Boss’, call him ‘chief’ instead,” Tavius grinned to Timotheus. --------------------------------------------- It took about an hour longer to reach the Tarchon Steads with the loaded wagon that it had for them to reach the Vanderboren property from there the night before. “Hail! Did you find what you were looking for?” Baxter Morningfire called when he greeted them on the road into the Tarchon property. He wore a floppy wide-brimmed leather hat and dull brown overalls. “We found MacHaven’s Brood!” Timotheus called back with a grin as he gestured into the wagon. “Really?” The steward said, running over with a couple of his workers to look in the wagon. “Some of them, anyway,” Victoria said. “The master of the steads has arrived before dawn,” Baxter said smiling. “Let us take your horses and lock up these prisoners and I will have someone feed you while Sir Valerius is informed. I am sure he will want to discuss this with you…” “And us with him…” Bleys replied. Sir Valerius Euthymius Tarchon greeted them warmly. He was a tall handsome man with long brown hair, and a well-kempt beard and no mustache (in the Swann style). He came to them as they ate at some benches in a hall not unlike that they had slept in the night before in the Vanderboren Stead longhouse. Tavius of Bog End excused himself. “So these are the infamous Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland,” he said with a half-smile, clapping his large calloused hands. “We call ourselves the Scions of Thricia,” Telémahkos said. Timotheus coughed his disagreement, but Bleys went into an explanation of what had happened at the Vanderboren Stead before the usual bickering could erupt before their noble host. Timotheus quickly got into the spirit of it, interjecting descriptions of the battle when appropriate. Telémahkos went on to explain about the connection between the bandits, the lizardfolk and whoever was sending the plagues of locusts. Valerius nodded his understanding. “My son told me of your group soon after he and Sir Quintus returned from New Harbinger after you aided him during that… misunderstanding with the Gold Straw Lizardfolk,” he said. “I must admit I was surprised when I heard they had become hostile, as I was led to believe that you…” He looked to Bleys. “…were brokering some kind of alliance with them and young Lord Swann… I have just recently returned from seeking out my son in the bog, hoping beyond hope that he might still be among the living… But nothing turned up…” “How goes the fight against the lizardfolk?” Bleys asked. “Strangely…” Valerius said. “They fight, but they are not aggressive, and often flee… Sir Septimias Benedict Swann insists that they are to be chased down and destroyed…” “Sir… There is a tragedy going on in that bog…” Markos said. “And we also fear there may be a tragedy here in Moraes Heng,” Telémahkos interjected. “We fear that people may come to think Lavinia Vanderboren is somehow involved with MacHaven…” “I doubt it…” Valerius dismissed the notion. “I know the girl and her parents… She is likely being taken advantage of now that her parents are gone…” Sir Valerius Euthymius Tarchon agreed to bring the prisoners to Gullmoor, and to have their horses transported there as well. He also said that after talking to the Viceroy he planned to return to the Crossroads Bog and continue to seek out his son, but that he would also try speaking to Thricius of Anhur in hopes of rethinking the assault on the lizardfolk. “Leaving now?” Valerius said when the discussion and meal were over. “I see no reason to delay,” Timotheus replied. “I concur,” said Bleys. “May [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Isis]Isis[/url] guide you,” Sir Valerius said. Stashing some of their heavier gear with their horses, they repacked the packhorse’s saddle and Tavius’s pony and brought those with them. Their lanky guide began to bring them northeast to the pass that would bring them down to the shadow of Moraes Heng and then around to the deep mire of the Glitcheegumme Swamp. Tavius led them on a damp trail that was flanked on one side by thick foliage drooping in the cold and showing signs of having been damaged by frost, and on the other side the muddy red cliff wall of the plateau they had come down from. As they marched the topic of the group’s name came up again. Timotheus hated the name ‘Scions of Thricia,’ “Well, ‘Sons of Thricia’ excludes Victoria,” Telémahkos said. “I don’t care,” said Victoria. “I abhor ‘Sons’” said Bleys. “Then let’s go back to ‘Signers’ until we come up with something better,” Timotheus suggested. “I [I]hate[/I] ‘Signers’ most of all,” Markos complained, and the bickering took off again. Annoyed with their argumentativeness, Tavius eventually turned to them with a serious face and said, “There can be dangers in this swamp. We all need to be quiet now…” The young nobles acquiesced. By noontime, the weather was much warmer, and the water swirled in warm eddies and currents around and beside them. In some places, the ambient light was dusky because of the overhang of trees. Finally they came to deep shining green patch of water beyond which were a bunch of islands of myriad sizes, each cloistered with thick brush and drooping willows. “It is always warm in this part of the swamp all winter long,” Tavius explained. “And in the summer it is unbearable…” “What causes this warmth?” asked Markos. The guide just shrugged his shoulders. They were forced to wade across the murky water, Tavius in the lead drawing the pony, which basically swam most of the way, and Bleys behind drawing the packhorse, which also struggled and kicked at the deepest parts. The water never reached past chest height for the tallest of the Signers, but Markos, Laarus and Victoria had to hold their heads up in several places to keep their mouths away from the pungent water. The area they approached was darker, and they could head the croaks of frogs and toads and the chittering of many insects. It was a long way to wade and all told they were in that deep water for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Halfway along, Timotheus noticed some movement in the water far off to their left, something sliding off one of the islands and plopping into the water. He warned the others who did their best to quicken their pace; causing Markos to lose his balance and splash face first into the water. Telémahkos and Tavius laughed. When Tavius finally led them up to drier land (for there was no truly [I]dry[/I] land around here at all), they stopped to check themselves and the animals for leeches. From there the guide brought them over several small islands broken up by babbling brooks and streams, most only a few feet apart, but occasionally they had to wade thigh deep in the green muck again. It was nearly two hours later when they heard the horrid singing echoing over the trees. ”That’s the old man…” Tavius said. “That’s some set of pipes on that hermit!” Timotheus smiled. “That’s Markos’ future we’re listening to,” Telémahkos jabbed. Markos scowled. Leaving the mounts behind they quietly moved ahead to look at the clearing beyond. There was a small shack built with what was obviously local wood and patchwork roof of thatch and sticks. It had a small raised porch and a worn wooden door, painted a faded red. About sixty feet in front of it was a rickety dock that stretched out into deep murky water, and tied to it was a large rowboat. Between the house and the dock was a metal tub with handles next to a stump, and inside the tub was a skinny old man with a big jutting jaw covered in white fuzz except for a blue-black mole under his lip. He was scrubbing his back vigorously in time to his song as suds splashed over the side. The muddy patch of grass the tub was in was dotted with large mushrooms nearly eighteen inches high, about six in all. “[I]Oh! I love your fishy beets! And your great big woman teats! When I get out my fishing keets I get hooked on your fishy beets![/I] His common was accented strangely, like a foreigner of some kind, and his singing warbled and broke like the dying call of the [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Emus]emus[/url] of the [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/UKSF]UKSF[/url]. After a brief disagreement about who should approach him first, “[I]Not[/I] Tim,” Telémahkos had said, emphatically, upsetting his cousin, Telémahkos and Laarus stepped out of the brush and called, “Hello!” “What?!” The old man sat up in his tub. “Finally found me ‘eh?” He jumped out of the basin, suds flying off his pruned naked body, and he made for the shack. As he reached the door he turned around and shook a fist. “Go back to [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Haffar%27s+Port]Haffar’s Port[/url], ya bastids!” The door slammed shut and as they approached they could hear a heavy bar slide into place behind it. A narrow window high up on the front wall few open and the old man pointed a heavy crossbow through the vent. “I knew you’d find me eventually, but I ain’t going without a fight!” “Sir, I am not sure who you think we are, but we certainly did not come here to harm you,” Telémahkos tried to explain. “That’s just what assassins would say!” the man spat back. “I should have gone, I’m a people person…” Timotheus complained. “Naw, that’s just old man Katan, [I]crazy[/I],” Tavius grinned. But Timotheus stood, brushed himself off and walked boldly towards the shack. As old man Katan noticed him he trained the crossbow on him, as Telémahkos continued to explain how they were looking for the old shrine of Apshai in the swamp, and Laarus questioned the man as to who it is from Haffar’s Port that he was so afraid of. “Tell the big man to get back!” Katan growled. “If he tries to bust down the door he’s getting a bolt in the eye!” “We mean no harm,” Timotheus said with his hands in the air, as Telémahkos scowled at him for coming forward. “I liked that song you were singing about the fishy bits…” “So you were spying on me, too? Eh? But still couldn’t the drop on old Katan… It’s been 30 years and I still got it!” The old man laughed. “Just how many of you Red Lantern assassins are there?” Laarus looked to Telémahkos, who snarled when he saw Timotheus look at him, too. “We are not members of the Red Lantern Gang,” Laarus said. “But there are eight of us in total.” “Look!” Markos said to Bleys, Victoria, Tymon and Tavius, while Telémahkos, Timotheus and Laarus turned because they thought they heard something squeak behind them. The mushrooms were moving.[sup]3[/sup] “Ya dang varmints!” Katan bellowed, noticing the strange creatures moving around the tub. They had nubby feet that detached from the ground, narrow, nearly useless arms and big-eyed faces beneath their mushroom-cap heads. They were white and gray, with little patches if red-brown and blue on their caps. They cooed to each other cutely in high-pitched voices. “Bleys! Markos! Mushroom people!” Telémahkos called to his companions who were still hiding. Seeing as there was no reason to continue to do so, the two wizards came forward with Victoria behind them. “Gods dang ‘em! They’re stealing my clothes again!” Katan complained. “Shall we help you get them back?” Timotheus asked with a wide grin. “How do I know you’re not assassins?” Katan asked back. “Because if we were we would have assassinated you by now,” Bleys said. “I am Bleys the Aubergine, watch-mage of the Academy, not a cutthroat assassin…” “Yes, we would not have called out to you,” Telémahkos said. “We would have merely snuck up and killed you in the tub or waited until you went to sleep…” “Maybe you were just trying to make sure you had the right man…” Katan reasoned. “When have you ever known the Red Lanterns to be concerned about who they kill?” Telémahkos asked. ”Good point, sonny!” Katan said. “I’ll come out, but if you try anything funny, I swear to [url=http://aquerra.wikispaces.com/Horus]Horus[/url], I will take at least one of you with me!” “Understood.” “Dangnabit! They [I]did[/I] take my clothes!” Katan swore, and he threw open the door and went running out to the tub. The little mushroom creatures let out a string of giggles as they hopped down towards the dock clutching Katan’s pants and shirt. “Hey, Laarus! You might want to go arrest them, they’re thieves” Telémahkos said to the priest, mocking. “What are they?” Markos asked, as the creatures tossed the clothes into the muddy water on the bank, forcing Katan to climb down and retrieve them, grumbling about how he’d have to wash them again. “Hells if I know!” Katan said. “They showed up not too long ago, and always bothering me with their singing and tricks… I hate ‘em!” “Are they edible?” Victoria asked. “I wonder what they’d taste like?” “You don’t eat creature like that!” Timotheus protested, but then he stopped short and rubbed his chin. “Though perhaps sautéed in butter? No, no, no! Forget I said that! You can’t eat creatures like this, they are obviously intelligent…” “Well, compared to you…” Markos winked. ”Shut up, little man! I’m smart enough!” Timotheus growled, but Markos had already moved on, slowly approaching one of the mushroom creatures with a copper coin, trying to catch the light with it, before placing it on the ground in front of it. “Meep!” The creature turned and hopped away. “Hmm, you know what? I think they think I’m stupid…” Markos said. “Do you think they really so smart to figure that out so quickly?” Telémahkos asked with a laugh. “So what you people disturbing my solitude for?” Katan asked. “I don’t get many… scratch that… [I]any[/I] visitors out here…” Once again Telémahkos explained how they were looking for the old hidden shrine of Apshai deeper in the swamp. “Do you know it?” “I might…” Katan replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gots to get dressed…” He walked into his shack. As Telémahkos, Bleys, and Laarus stood by one side of the shack, the priest wondering aloud what it was Katan was hiding. There were hundreds of chicken scratch marks on the side of the shack counting off days and days of Katan’s life here in this isolated place. Meanwhile, Victoria, Timotheus and Markos were over by the dock, continuing to watch the mushroom creatures with great interest. They meeped and peeped and danced and rolled, looking at the party like shy children or enthusiastic dogs. One even let Victoria pick it up and look right into its face. It cooed pleasantly. As she put it back down, the militant cocked her head. “Do you hear that?” But before anyone else could pinpoint it the little mushroom creatures began to sing. It was a lilting impression of old man Katan’s own singing, but with a bizarre inhuman weaving harmony that was actually not unpleasant despite its strangeness. “Shut up out there, ya lousy varmints!” Katan yelled from inside the shack. “They’re trying to drown out the noise,” Victoria said. “What noise?” asked Timotheus. “What was that buzzing?” Telémahkos was asking simultaneously, noticing that Bleys too was looking around for its source. In less than a moment it became clear. Telémahkos flinched as he saw something black come swooping in towards his face, buzzing loudly. He swatted at it ineffectually, but the thing’s proboscis bit down deep into his neck. It was huge mosquito, nearly a foot in length and it was sucking blood out of Telémahkos at an astonishing rate, latched onto him He tried to pull it off, but its grip was too tight, so he scrambled to draw a dagger. Meanwhile, as Bleys began the incantation of a spell, another came swooping in to bite on to Laarus’s back, while a second went for Telémahkos, but missed as he dodged wildly.[sup]4[/sup] “Tim! Over there!” Victoria said, drawing her own dagger and charging in that direction when she saw the commotion. Another mosquito darted out of the brush and grabbed hold of her arm and began to draw blood from her as well. Yet another was buzzing around her. Telémahkos moaned as he swerved wildly and stabbed at the creature, but his desire to not stab himself made him simultaneously over cautious, and the thing kept drinking. [I]…to be continued…[/I] -------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Notes:[/b] [sup]1[/sup] This session was played on Saturday, May 24, 2008 in Maplewood, New Jersey. [sup]2[/sup] This vote occurred back in Session #15. Amazingly, Markos voted for Bleys to take on leadership. [sup]3[/sup] This scenario was taken from the adventure [I]Old Man Katan and the Mushroom Band[/I] by Ted James Thomas Zuvich from Dungeon Magazine, Issue #41, May 1993. [sup]4[/sup] Telémahkos used his dodge feat against that one and it missed by one. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
Top