The Blackgate Chronicles
Session 2, Part 2 – Mud, Merchants, and Mysteries
Starday, 7th Gozran, 817
The party looked upon the heap of corpses that were strewn about the bloody rock that the demon had stood before. The sun hung low in the sky by the time they had made their way back to Pran’s campsite. Flies swarmed the bodies of his dead kin.
“I don’t understand,” T’bidi said. “How can these men have commanded such a creature?”
“Command isn’t the word I’d use,” Rhynn answered. “These men – the Night Queen’s Covenant – didn’t simply summon this demon with a spell. People were sacrificed to make that happen. An old, and foolish, ritual.”
“These people here?” T’bidi asked.
Rhynn looked upon the bodies and frowned. “Unfortunately, I
think it would have taken more lives than just these to summon such a creature. I can’t be sure as I didn’t even see it.” She shook her head. “No, I suspect that these people were sacrificed to the demon, the Night Queen, or both merely for the sake of sacrifice.”
Halloran spat. “Evil.” He said no more as no more needed to be said.
“Look here,” T’bidi said pointing. “A symbol scratched on the rock.”
Thawn moved close and examined it. “A stylized crown. This must be the Night Queen’s sigil.”
Halloran noticed that Lemarc was being unusually quiet as the thief stood apart from the others, a troubled look upon his face. The Northman walked over and placed a large, meaty hand upon his shoulder. “Lemarc?”
“Oh, hrmm,” Lemarc replied slowly. “I think…”
Everybody was now staring at the curly-haired rogue.
“I think we have a problem,” he said at last. “I heard the one man, the one who was…well, you know.” Lemarc made a stuffing gesture at his mouth. “Anyway, I heard him say that the demon was bound to show them to the key.”
“And?” T’bidi offered.
“I think it was this key,” Lemarc replied. “The one Pran gave us. I mean, I think the demon
knew we’d be here.”
Nobody said anything…
~
The next morning, the party worked together to bury Pran’s family, taking them away from the bloodstained rock and finding a nicer area that would get a bit of sunlight overlooking the nearby creek. Then, they headed back for the road that would take them to the village of Black Hollow.
~
The rain had let up by midday, but hours later, as the sun hung low in the western sky, the ground was still laden with puddles and muddy. Each huddled within their cloaks as they walked, hiding from the chill air.
Thawn was starting to look for a good place to camp when they happened upon a man who seemed to be chasing a draft horse through a muddy field. The man saw the party and came to a stop. His shoulders hung low and with a defeated voice he said, “If you’ve come to rob and murder me, please be on about it. I’m quite tired!”
Lemarc took a small step forward, “Don’t mind if I do.”
T’bidi looked at the thief.
He must be joking. She frowned.
He’s joking, right?
Thawn held up an open hand, stopping Lemarc, and said, “Indua's blessing be upon you, traveler.”
“Well then,” the man replied smiling, “are any of you good with horses? This one is giving me no end of trouble.”
Halloran nodded and strode out into the muddied field where he and the man were able to quickly wrangle the horse working together.
“I cannot thank you enough, friend,” the man said as he slopped through the mud towing the giant horse behind him. “There, my camp,” he continued as he gestured towards a wagon laden with goods near the side of the road. “Please, join me by my fire and let me feed you all. It’s the least I can do.”
The Northman nodded and waved at the others to also make their way to the wagon. A fire had already been started and, after taking care to secure his horse, the man directed all to make themselves comfortable. “Please, please, sit! Let me get you some spirits to push the chill from your bones while I make us a stew.”
He then fetched a bottle from his wagon and offered it around. “Brandy,” he said. “I am Rulgur, a traveling merchant.” The party took the time to introduce themselves in turn, each name drawing a smile and a nod from the heavyset merchant. He then turned and started working on dinner.
Later, as the stew burbled over the fire, he sat back and lit a pipe, looked once at his horse, and with a wink in his eye began to laugh.
“Rulgur,” Thawn said, “have you any news of the road ahead? Any dangers we should be aware of?”
Rulgur considered a moment as he stroked his mustache. “No, nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, there’s always danger of bandits, but nothing such as yourselves shouldn’t be able to handle or simple scare off.”
“Bandits,” T’bidi said. “And you travel alone?”
Rulgur sighed. “I do now, yes. I once had a good woman, but she left me…joined a cult.” Then his eyes perked up as he looked upon the party. “Say, you don’t happen to be in a cult or maybe are considering starting one, are you?”
Rhynn looked shocked. “A cult? What do you take us for?”
“Oh, I mean no offense,” Rulgur answered. “It’s just that cults are my best customers. Truth be told, I’m something of a cult merchant. I sell robes – I have all kinds and colors – as well as some of the most ornate masks you can find in bulk!”
The party was confused.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he continued. “You look far too reasonable to be in a cult, but I had to ask you understand. One can’t throw a rock without hitting a cult member in these parts lately. You got your sun-worshipping cults, your star-worshipping cults, your sea-worshipping cults – even in cities far from the ocean. I’ve seen it all.”
Lemarc chuckled.
“Heck,” Rulgur was just streaming words at this point. “I even seen me a cult that worshipped a bumpy rock, which I’m pretty sure was petrified cow dung. Imagine that, worshipping a rocky piece of crap!”
Halloran was nodding and laughing now, tears in his eyes.
Rulgur bellowed. “You can find a tree stump and start a cult for it. Good money in it too. Everybody hands over everything, you give them a robe and maybe a mask and you’re in business.”
Thawn frowned.
“Mind you, it was never my goal,” Rulgur explained to the ranger, seeing his reaction. “I wanted to sell costumes to the theaters of the world. I do so love the theatre. But the theater business has slowed over the years and what is a costume merchant to do?”
“Sell costumes to cultists?” the thief suggested.
“Exactly that!” Rulgur replied. “So, alas, I’m now in the cult supply business.”
Lemarc’s eyes perked up. “Hey, any interest in buying some used scimitars? Took them off some cultists a few days ago.”
“Show me what you have, friend,” Rulgur said. “And we’ll figure out how to strike a fair deal.”
The two conducted their business before everybody ate dinner. The party promised to look Rulgur up if they changed their minds about staring a cult of their own and continued on with the final leg of their journey to Black Hollow the following morning.
~
The next day, the party finally arrived at the village of Black Hollow. It wasn’t a large settlement by any stretch of the imagination. Besides an inn on the west edge of town and what looked to be the local lord’s longhouse to the east, the town was a collection of smallish, round huts. The more interesting aspect of the town was that it was built in something of a circle around a great depression in the ground that led down to what appeared to be a large, dark cave.
“Well,” Lemarc started, “I think we can guess where they got the name.”
T’bidi nodded and gestured towards the inn with her spear and set out in that direction with the others in tow.
A group of people were gathered at the front of the inn, mostly standing around a merchant’s wagon. Lemarc could hear the man atop the wagon hawking his wares which he had brought
all the way from the city of Skarn, which happened to be the closest, major city.
Thawn sidled up besides one of the men, a stern looking man with blond hair and said, “Hullo there,” which elicited a suspicious stare from the stranger.
Lemarc noted that as the merchant was haggling over the price on a small cask of pickles the man’s eyes lingered overly long upon himself.
Just as things were starting to feel slightly awkward, a man broke from the crowd and addressed the party. “Hoi, travelers!” he said cheerfully with a smile. He bore a bandage wrapped about his head to cover his right eye showing that he had been recently injured.
“I am Dricus and I am both proprietor and innkeeper of the Hollow’s Hole,” he explained with a slight bow and a sweep of the hand towards the inn’s front door. “You travelers look cold. Please, my fire is warm, my ale spiced, and soup bubbling. Won’t you come inside?”
T'bidi nodded and replied, “Yes, show us the way.”
With that the man scurried ahead of the party to make them welcome. As the party entered the Hollow’s Hole, Dricus was busily arranging chairs and benches near the common room’s hearth, where a warm fire crackled. He waved all of them over, tossed another log upon the fire, and pushed it with a poker to get it into place and stir the fire hotter.
As Rhynn stat down, he all but touched her feet and then gestured to the hearth. “Please, warm your feet by my fire. I’m sure you’re all chilled to the bone with the rains we’ve had. Make yourselves comfortable.”
“Thank you,” Rhynn said. She didn’t place her feet upon the heart, but she did scoot her chair a touch closer and leaned in trying to warm her nose which felt like ice.
“So, about that food and drink,” Dricus let the half-formed question hang in the air as the party settled themselves.
“Yes,” T’bidi said.
“Excellent!” he replied and quickly made his way into the kitchen excitedly.
“Business must be slow,” Halloran said while the man was gone.
“There was a foul mood in the crowd,” Thawn noted.
T’bidi nodded. “I saw it too. Why was that man staring at you like that?”
The ranger shrugged.
The door from the kitchen swung open as Dricus reappeared with a platter of mugs which he promptly distributed to the party. “Here you go!”
Lemarc dropped a few gold coins upon the platter and grabbed a mug, bringing a smile from the man.
“Dricus, who was that blond man outside?” the thief said. “The one with all of the…
personality.”
“Ah,” Dricus said, looking a touch uncomfortable. “Umm, I think you may be referring to Dengan.”
“Yes, Dengan,” Lemarc continued. “Who is he?”
Dricus looked uncomfortably at the windows and their open shudders at the front of the Hole. “I need to check on your soup. Please excuse me,” he said as he gave a quick bow and once again retreated to the kitchen.
“Something is going on,” Rhynn said. The others nodded.
Soon after, Dricus returned. This time his platter had a stack of bowls and large, clay pot, and a loaf of bread. He carried all of this to the hearth and placed the pot near the fire and proceeded to ladle soup into each of the bowls that he doled out to the party. He then tore off large chunks of crusty bread and distributed to each of them with a smile.
“We have two rooms,” he said. “Perhaps one for the womenfolk and one for the men?”
T’bidi replied, “How much?”
“Two gold,” he said with a waning smile. “I mean, that’s two gold each. So, four gold?”
“Are you asking us what the price should be?” T’bidi asked.
“No, no. That will be four gold for both of the rooms tonight.”
“So, about that man,” T’bidi said as she pulled the coins from her pouch and handed them over. “You were saying…”
Dricus snatched up the coins happily and again gave a nervous glance to the open windows. “Was I saying?”
Rhynn stood up and declared, “I’m cold.” She then walked to the front of the inn and closed the shudders to each of the front windows before picking up her chair and placing it firmly in front of the door to block it. She then sat down.
Dricus raised a hand to his bloodied bandage that covered his right eye. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
Thawn raised a calming hand. “Be at peace, friend,” he said. “We’re just new in town and have a few questions.”
“Oh!” the innkeeper looked relieved. “Surely about the dungeon then.”
“Dungeon?” Lemarc said.
Dricus looked confused. “I’m sorry, but you appear to be the adventuring sort.”
“Oh, we
are.”
“Right, of course,” he continued. “You’ll likely want to talk with Enarion ‘cross the way. He sells keys you can try on the dungeon’s door.”
“Keys?” Lemarc asked.
Dricus nodded. “Yes, of course. Many have heard of the dungeon and have come to plunder its depths, but nobody has been able to enter…at least not in my lifetime.”
Lemarc swooned at the idea of riches that must lie within. He was practically drooling.
Thawn shook his head at the thief and turned his attention back to their host. “Please tell us about this Dengan.”
Dricus brought a hand up to his bandage briefly.
“Did he hurt you?” the ranger asked.
Dricus was staring now at the blood upon his fingertips. “Umm, it was just a slight misunderstanding. It will sort itself out.”
“Bring me a bowl of clean water and a towel,” Halloran said.
“Of course,” and Dricus again retreated to the kitchen briefly and returned with the requested items.
The cleric took the bowl and towel and said, “Sit.”
“Umm,” he started to reply.
Halloran put a hand on the man’s shoulder and gently – yet firmly – guided him into a nearby chair. “Let me help you.” He removed the bandage and examined the wound.
He may well lose this eye. This is no small wound.
Halloran then held up a hand to the wound, muttered a quiet prayer to Röth under his breath, and warmth filled the wound and closed it. He then wrapped it in a new, clean bandage. “You may yet save that eye but keep it clean.”
Dricus nodded. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Now, tell us about your troubles,” the Northman said sternly.
“Well,” Dricus quickly glanced at the front of the inn once more to ensure they were alone. “You see, Dengan is something of…well, it’s hard to explain. He’s kind of like the eyes and ears for some men around here.
Rough men.”
“Rough men?” T’bidi asked.
“You know, if you’re looking for work and such, you really should speak with the thegn.” He nodded earnestly to drive the point quietly.
“The thegn?” Rhynn asked.
“Yes. You’ll find his longhouse on the east side of the village,” he replied, still nodding earnestly.
Lemarc touched his nose and nodded.
We understand, friend.
“Are you warm now?” Dricus asked Rhynn, gesturing at the closed shudders.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied and returned her chair to sit near the fire.
Dricus busied himself with reopening the shudders at the front. As he was doing so, Thawn looked quickly at an open window at the rear of the inn. “We were overheard,” he said in a hushed hiss.
Lemarc darted to the window in a rush. Peering out, he saw a ragged looking man hurrying away in a quick walk. He scrambled out the window in pursuit, which sent the man into a shuffling run. He hurried after the fleeing man who leapt into a large bush.
Lemarc stopped short of the bushes where the man was feebly attempting to hide. “You know I see you, right?” he said.
The man reached to his belt and produced a sharp…fork?
“You’re not going to hurt anybody with that,” Lemarc said and tossed the man one of his daggers.
The man quickly dropped his fork, scooped up the dagger, looked upon his fallen fork in horror, scooped that up too and returned it to his belt. “I…I know how to use this!” he threatened. “Pointy end in the other fella,” he explained.
“Well, you’re not wrong there,” the thief countered.
This isn’t going anywhere fast.
Lemarc shrugged, stepped forward, struck the man once on the top of his head with the pommel of his remaining dagger.
Going to need help moving him.
“Can I get some help out here?” the thief called back to the window…and out came Rhynn.
Lemarc furrowed his eyebrows.
Rhynn? Yep, here she comes.
[This is where the hijinks of D&D and poor rolls just take a story to a weird place. It’s one of the reasons I love the game so much. Thanks for the Deception check of 4, Kristen.]
Rhynn was walking towards where Lemarc stood near the downed man when she noticed a couple locals were watching her suspiciously.
Oh no! Think, Rhynn, think! I got it!
The wizard snapped her fingers pleased with her plan. She then walked in a wide, awkward circle, proclaimed loudly, “I’m a botanist!” and came to stop by a tree to feel up its bark. “Oooo, nice bark!” she added.
One of the watching villagers snorted.
“Go back,” Lemarc hissed at her. “Send somebody better at this!”
Rhynn nodded
slyly once before turning around and walking in an even more awkward, serpentine path so anybody nearby could see her before she returned to the front of the inn.
“Lemarc wants somebody better,” she said.
DM Commentary
Not a lot to offer on the rules front for this post. The second half of the session was what the table lovingly calls “JJing,” which means to drink Jamba Juice and just talk. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but there’s a story there. I’m sure many tables have such stories to tell.
Anyway, lots of JJing and lots of laughter. We ended a touch abruptly here as one of my players had a hard cutoff at 9 that night.
