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The Blackgate Chronicles (Updated 11/15/21)
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<blockquote data-quote="Hjorimir" data-source="post: 8441476" data-attributes="member: 5745"><p><strong>The Blackgate Chronicles</strong></p><p><strong>Session 1, Part 2 – The Offering</strong></p><p><strong>Fireday, 6th Gozran, 817</strong></p><p></p><p>Halloran poked at the fire with a stick, sending a small spattering of embers into the chill, morning air. A light rain had begun during the early hours of the morning and the sky overhead looked like it wouldn’t be letting up any time soon. The cleric approved. Storms were the province of Röth, his god, and the showers brought the Northman comfort. His companions, however, didn’t seem to share his sentiments as they huddled close to the hissing flames, seeking its warmth.</p><p></p><p>“Lemarc, are you sure that this Cult of the Cardinal Moon aren’t connected to this map we’re looking for?” Thawn started, breaking the morning silence.</p><p></p><p>The thief shrugged. “I don’t see how really. I purchased from a reputable informant through my contact in Skarn,” Lemarc explained.</p><p></p><p>“Reputable.” T’bidi let the word hang in the air.</p><p></p><p>Halloran snorted.</p><p></p><p>“Okay, maybe reputable is a bit of a stretch,” Lemarc admitted. “Still, the lead should be good. I can’t explain how this might have drawn the interest from our red-robed friends. What I do know is that there’s a man called Bushar in the village of Black Hollow and he bears a map that is said to lead to a great treasure. We still like treasure, right?”</p><p></p><p>Thawn looked at him flatly.</p><p></p><p>“All I’m saying is that we’ve come this far, so let’s see where it takes us.”</p><p></p><p>“It takes us east,” Thawn said as he stood up. “Let’s be on about it.”</p><p></p><p>~</p><p></p><p>It was past noon when they came across the tracks. The ranger squatted to get a closer look while the others waited a few paces back so as to not foul the trail.</p><p></p><p>“What do you see, Thawn?” Rhynn asked.</p><p></p><p>Thawn held up a hand and continued to walk a slow circle as he considered what he was seeing. He looked up and shook his head. <em>The rain isn’t helping.</em></p><p></p><p>Lemarc started to say something snide, but T’bidi held up a hand, cutting him off. “Thawn?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, as best I can tell, we’ve got three people who are being pursued by a group of five,” he explained.</p><p></p><p>“Not a fair fight,” Halloran added.</p><p></p><p>“Not sure it’s a fight at all,” Thawn replied. “The three fleeing were wearing soft boots. A poor person’s boot. These five, however, these are heavy of heel. A soldier’s trapping.”</p><p></p><p>“All are warriors in the north,” the cleric added.</p><p></p><p>“We’re not in the north,” Rhynn said still thinking about her own encounter with being chased – and captured – just the day prior.</p><p></p><p>The Northman lowered his eyes in understanding. “Then we follow.”</p><p></p><p>The others nodded.</p><p></p><p>~</p><p></p><p>It was late in the day and the sky still cried. The group stood before a large tree from which hung two men. Farmers by the look of them. Each was hanging upside down and had been opened from navel to neck, allowing their innards to spill out upon the ground.</p><p></p><p>T’bidi waved some flies from her face and advanced for a closer look. “Can you tell how long they’ve been dead?”</p><p></p><p>The shepherd frowned. “Let me take a look,” he replied and started a careful examination.</p><p></p><p>T’bidi considered the ranger. <em>This isn’t a tracker’s task, but that of a physician. He seems almost comfortable with the gore. </em>Her dark eyes fell to the empty scabbard that Thawn always wore. <em>There’s a story there…but perhaps one for a different time.</em></p><p></p><p>Thawn shook his head and pointed. “They stirred the entrails. Almost like some kind of ceremony.”</p><p></p><p>“They were being read,” Rhynn said. “A divination.”</p><p></p><p>Halloran spat. “That’s what goats are for. Not men.”</p><p></p><p>“But there are only two here,” Lemarc said. “I thought there were three.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ll look,” Thawn replied.</p><p></p><p>“Wait,” Halloran commanded as he walked up to the ranger and placed a large, calloused palm upon the old man’s forehead. “Röth <em>guide</em> this hunter. Let his trail be true.” A distant peel of thunder was heard.</p><p></p><p>Thawn found the trail in short order. “Here!” he said pointing. “One escaped. From the look of these other tracks, the five then spread out looking for him.”</p><p></p><p>“We may save one yet,” Rhynn added.</p><p></p><p>“Maybe,” T’bidi said as she laid her hand upon the wizard’s shoulder and gave a small squeeze. “Maybe.”</p><p></p><p>~</p><p></p><p>Night was coming fast, and the ranger had paused to look at something.</p><p></p><p>“What is it?” Lemarc asked.</p><p></p><p>“The tracks…” Thawn said darkly. “No longer a run, but a staggering limp. One way or another, we’re close.” Without further explanation, the ranger continued following at a jog through the cold rain.</p><p></p><p>~</p><p></p><p>Shortly thereafter, they found him. The old man lay face down in the mud and grass. Shepherd Thawn turned him over carefully. The old man lived, but it would not be for much longer. His breath was ragged, his fingers gnarled, and his eyes rolled upward.</p><p></p><p>“Please,” he begged. “Do not sacrifice me!”</p><p></p><p>“Rest, friend,” Thawn said. “We are not your enemies. Who are you?”</p><p></p><p>“Mercy of the gods!” the dying man answered before coughing a spot of blood.</p><p></p><p>Lemarc kneeled and propped the old man up upon one of his knees to settle him as the others gathered around.</p><p></p><p>“My name is Pran,” the old man said. “Please, help my family! They are near! Save them before they are found. To the east is a creek, follow it left and you’ll find their camp.”</p><p></p><p>“Halloran, can you help him?” Rhynn asked.</p><p></p><p>The cleric looked down upon the man and shook his sadly. “Röth’s blessing heals the wounds of battle. This one is spent. He will sing with his ancestors soon.”</p><p></p><p>Lemarc tried to give Pran a snort of whisky, “Here, to ease your way,” but the old man pushed the flask aside.</p><p></p><p>“Take these things. I offer them to you. Save my family!” he begged. The old man fumbled at his belt. A belt that held a sturdy handaxe and small pouch. “Please…” he began, but fell into a fit of coughing, his mouth filled with blood.</p><p></p><p>Pran passed with a lingering sigh.</p><p></p><p>Thawn closed Pran’s lifeless eyes that stared up into the rain and placed a coin upon each. “For the boatman.”</p><p></p><p>After a moment of silence, Lemarc spoke up. “This is no poor man’s axe. It’s of sturdy make,” he said offering it up to the cleric. *</p><p></p><p>“Better than anything I carry,” Halloran said taking the axe to turn it over in his hands.</p><p></p><p>“It should go to his family,” T’bidi stated.</p><p></p><p>The Northman nodded. “Yes, but after it tastes the blood of those who wronged him.”</p><p></p><p>“Look here,” the thief added. “A jet of some value and a key…and no simple key at that. This is intricate and made of steel.”</p><p></p><p>“Who was this man?” T’bidi asked. “These are not the trappings of a simple farmer.”</p><p></p><p>“He was somebody’s son. He was somebody’s husband. He was somebody’s father. He was somebody’s grandfather,” Halloran said. The creak of leather could be heard under his white knuckles as he grasped the axe tightly.</p><p></p><p>T’bidi stepped to the side and used the butt of her spear to draw a stylized likeness of Pran in the mud. She then lit a small fire near it. “To keep him warm in the cold embrace of death,” she explained.</p><p></p><p>The others turned and watched her ceremony in silence as she continued by pouring some water from her skin and laying out some of her rations upon the image. She then placed his belongings, the axe at his hip, the jet in his hand, and the key upon his heart. She then stood and spoke words in her native language before cutting the palm of her hand with the tip of her spear and let her blood run into the drawing. <em>I know not who you were in life but know that the spirit of a living warrior will protect you in death. </em>She then walked away and began to gather her belongings.</p><p></p><p>Lemarc waited a moment before bending down to recover the belongings. Halloran raised an eye as the thief stuffed the axe into his belt. “I’ll make sure it drinks its fill,” he said to the cleric. **</p><p></p><p>~</p><p></p><p>It was well into night by the time the party found the eastern creek that Pran had told them about.</p><p></p><p>“We turn left to find the camp,” Rhynn said eagerly.</p><p></p><p>Thawn nodded as he looked about as his companions. In the light of his torch, he could see that each breathed heavily. “We need rest,” he said.</p><p></p><p>Lemarc nodded, “Agreed.”</p><p></p><p>“No, we should press on to the camp!” Rhynn said. “We need to save Pran’s family!”</p><p></p><p>“There’s time enough to rest after battle,” Halloran added as he stepped up beside the wizard.</p><p></p><p>The four of them looked to T’bidi in unison.</p><p></p><p>“T’bidi,” Rhynn said, “You’re the deciding vote.” The plea in her voice obvious.</p><p></p><p>T’bidi frowned as she looked between the two groups of her companions. She slowly shook her head and let loose a long sigh. “I say we rest.”</p><p></p><p>A tear slipped from Rhynn’s eye…lost in the rain.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Hjorimir, post: 8441476, member: 5745"] [B]The Blackgate Chronicles Session 1, Part 2 – The Offering Fireday, 6th Gozran, 817[/B] Halloran poked at the fire with a stick, sending a small spattering of embers into the chill, morning air. A light rain had begun during the early hours of the morning and the sky overhead looked like it wouldn’t be letting up any time soon. The cleric approved. Storms were the province of Röth, his god, and the showers brought the Northman comfort. His companions, however, didn’t seem to share his sentiments as they huddled close to the hissing flames, seeking its warmth. “Lemarc, are you sure that this Cult of the Cardinal Moon aren’t connected to this map we’re looking for?” Thawn started, breaking the morning silence. The thief shrugged. “I don’t see how really. I purchased from a reputable informant through my contact in Skarn,” Lemarc explained. “Reputable.” T’bidi let the word hang in the air. Halloran snorted. “Okay, maybe reputable is a bit of a stretch,” Lemarc admitted. “Still, the lead should be good. I can’t explain how this might have drawn the interest from our red-robed friends. What I do know is that there’s a man called Bushar in the village of Black Hollow and he bears a map that is said to lead to a great treasure. We still like treasure, right?” Thawn looked at him flatly. “All I’m saying is that we’ve come this far, so let’s see where it takes us.” “It takes us east,” Thawn said as he stood up. “Let’s be on about it.” ~ It was past noon when they came across the tracks. The ranger squatted to get a closer look while the others waited a few paces back so as to not foul the trail. “What do you see, Thawn?” Rhynn asked. Thawn held up a hand and continued to walk a slow circle as he considered what he was seeing. He looked up and shook his head. [I]The rain isn’t helping.[/I] Lemarc started to say something snide, but T’bidi held up a hand, cutting him off. “Thawn?” “Well, as best I can tell, we’ve got three people who are being pursued by a group of five,” he explained. “Not a fair fight,” Halloran added. “Not sure it’s a fight at all,” Thawn replied. “The three fleeing were wearing soft boots. A poor person’s boot. These five, however, these are heavy of heel. A soldier’s trapping.” “All are warriors in the north,” the cleric added. “We’re not in the north,” Rhynn said still thinking about her own encounter with being chased – and captured – just the day prior. The Northman lowered his eyes in understanding. “Then we follow.” The others nodded. ~ It was late in the day and the sky still cried. The group stood before a large tree from which hung two men. Farmers by the look of them. Each was hanging upside down and had been opened from navel to neck, allowing their innards to spill out upon the ground. T’bidi waved some flies from her face and advanced for a closer look. “Can you tell how long they’ve been dead?” The shepherd frowned. “Let me take a look,” he replied and started a careful examination. T’bidi considered the ranger. [I]This isn’t a tracker’s task, but that of a physician. He seems almost comfortable with the gore. [/I]Her dark eyes fell to the empty scabbard that Thawn always wore. [I]There’s a story there…but perhaps one for a different time.[/I] Thawn shook his head and pointed. “They stirred the entrails. Almost like some kind of ceremony.” “They were being read,” Rhynn said. “A divination.” Halloran spat. “That’s what goats are for. Not men.” “But there are only two here,” Lemarc said. “I thought there were three.” “I’ll look,” Thawn replied. “Wait,” Halloran commanded as he walked up to the ranger and placed a large, calloused palm upon the old man’s forehead. “Röth [I]guide[/I] this hunter. Let his trail be true.” A distant peel of thunder was heard. Thawn found the trail in short order. “Here!” he said pointing. “One escaped. From the look of these other tracks, the five then spread out looking for him.” “We may save one yet,” Rhynn added. “Maybe,” T’bidi said as she laid her hand upon the wizard’s shoulder and gave a small squeeze. “Maybe.” ~ Night was coming fast, and the ranger had paused to look at something. “What is it?” Lemarc asked. “The tracks…” Thawn said darkly. “No longer a run, but a staggering limp. One way or another, we’re close.” Without further explanation, the ranger continued following at a jog through the cold rain. ~ Shortly thereafter, they found him. The old man lay face down in the mud and grass. Shepherd Thawn turned him over carefully. The old man lived, but it would not be for much longer. His breath was ragged, his fingers gnarled, and his eyes rolled upward. “Please,” he begged. “Do not sacrifice me!” “Rest, friend,” Thawn said. “We are not your enemies. Who are you?” “Mercy of the gods!” the dying man answered before coughing a spot of blood. Lemarc kneeled and propped the old man up upon one of his knees to settle him as the others gathered around. “My name is Pran,” the old man said. “Please, help my family! They are near! Save them before they are found. To the east is a creek, follow it left and you’ll find their camp.” “Halloran, can you help him?” Rhynn asked. The cleric looked down upon the man and shook his sadly. “Röth’s blessing heals the wounds of battle. This one is spent. He will sing with his ancestors soon.” Lemarc tried to give Pran a snort of whisky, “Here, to ease your way,” but the old man pushed the flask aside. “Take these things. I offer them to you. Save my family!” he begged. The old man fumbled at his belt. A belt that held a sturdy handaxe and small pouch. “Please…” he began, but fell into a fit of coughing, his mouth filled with blood. Pran passed with a lingering sigh. Thawn closed Pran’s lifeless eyes that stared up into the rain and placed a coin upon each. “For the boatman.” After a moment of silence, Lemarc spoke up. “This is no poor man’s axe. It’s of sturdy make,” he said offering it up to the cleric. * “Better than anything I carry,” Halloran said taking the axe to turn it over in his hands. “It should go to his family,” T’bidi stated. The Northman nodded. “Yes, but after it tastes the blood of those who wronged him.” “Look here,” the thief added. “A jet of some value and a key…and no simple key at that. This is intricate and made of steel.” “Who was this man?” T’bidi asked. “These are not the trappings of a simple farmer.” “He was somebody’s son. He was somebody’s husband. He was somebody’s father. He was somebody’s grandfather,” Halloran said. The creak of leather could be heard under his white knuckles as he grasped the axe tightly. T’bidi stepped to the side and used the butt of her spear to draw a stylized likeness of Pran in the mud. She then lit a small fire near it. “To keep him warm in the cold embrace of death,” she explained. The others turned and watched her ceremony in silence as she continued by pouring some water from her skin and laying out some of her rations upon the image. She then placed his belongings, the axe at his hip, the jet in his hand, and the key upon his heart. She then stood and spoke words in her native language before cutting the palm of her hand with the tip of her spear and let her blood run into the drawing. [I]I know not who you were in life but know that the spirit of a living warrior will protect you in death. [/I]She then walked away and began to gather her belongings. Lemarc waited a moment before bending down to recover the belongings. Halloran raised an eye as the thief stuffed the axe into his belt. “I’ll make sure it drinks its fill,” he said to the cleric. ** ~ It was well into night by the time the party found the eastern creek that Pran had told them about. “We turn left to find the camp,” Rhynn said eagerly. Thawn nodded as he looked about as his companions. In the light of his torch, he could see that each breathed heavily. “We need rest,” he said. Lemarc nodded, “Agreed.” “No, we should press on to the camp!” Rhynn said. “We need to save Pran’s family!” “There’s time enough to rest after battle,” Halloran added as he stepped up beside the wizard. The four of them looked to T’bidi in unison. “T’bidi,” Rhynn said, “You’re the deciding vote.” The plea in her voice obvious. T’bidi frowned as she looked between the two groups of her companions. She slowly shook her head and let loose a long sigh. “I say we rest.” A tear slipped from Rhynn’s eye…lost in the rain. [/QUOTE]
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